#Aegon Targaryen x targaryen!Reader

[br0kenangel]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

The nursery was a whirlwind of noise as Aegon and Aemond, stood nose-to-nose, arguing fiercely. Their baby sister sat on a blanket nearby, her wide violet eyes watching them with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“She likes playing with me more!” Aegon insisted, his voice rising as he pointed toward their sister. “I’m the one who makes her laugh!”

“No, she likes me better!” Aemond shot back, crossing his arms defiantly. “I’m the one who reads to her!”

Their bickering continued, growing louder with each passing moment, neither of them noticing the soft patter of tiny footsteps approaching. Little Daeron toddled into the room, his big eyes full of innocence. He looked from Aegon to Aemond, then over to his sister, who was sitting quietly on her blanket, seemingly forgotten by her squabbling brothers.

Without making a sound, Daeron walked over to his sister, his steps wobbly but determined. He reached out with his small hands, and she, always delighted by her youngest brother, lifted her arms toward him. With surprising ease for his age, Daeron picked her up, wrapping his little arms around her as he balanced her on his hip.

The older boys were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice as Daeron carefully carried their sister out of the nursery, her giggles muffled as she snuggled against him. He navigated the corridors with surprising confidence, eventually finding his way to the garden, where the late afternoon sun bathed the roses in a warm, golden light.

Daeron gently set his sister down between the tall rose bushes, their vibrant blooms towering over her. She giggled again, reaching out to touch the soft petals of a nearby flower. Daeron watched her for a moment, a wide smile on his face, before carefully plucking a small rose. He held it delicately in his tiny hands, just as he had seen the maids do, and then leaned in to tuck it into her hair.

“There,” he said in his sweet voice, his words still slightly lisped. “Pretty.”

His sister beamed at him, her little hands clapping in delight as she reached up to touch the flower in her hair. Daeron’s smile widened, and he began to hum a tune—one of the lullabies he had heard their mother sing. His voice was soft and uncertain, but the simple melody seemed to enchant his sister, who watched him with adoration in her eyes.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon and Aemond’s argument had finally come to an abrupt halt when they realized their sister was nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?!” Aegon asked, his voice tinged with panic as he looked around the empty room.

Aemond’s face had gone pale, his one good eye wide with fear. “She’s gone!” he cried, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. “We lost her!”

The two brothers tore through the Red Keep in a frantic search, their hearts pounding in their chests. Servants were questioned, corridors were scoured, and they even checked behind the curtains in every room. But there was no sign of their sister.

Finally, they reached the garden, bursting through the door with wild, desperate energy. Aegon was ready to yell out for help, his voice rising in a cry that was sure to bring the whole Keep running, when he suddenly stopped short.

There, nestled between the rose bushes, was their baby sister, sitting comfortably in Daeron’s lap. The tiny boy was still humming his lullaby, his chubby fingers gently combing through her silver hair as she gazed up at him with adoration. And then, to the utter shock of Aegon and Aemond, she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Daeron’s lips, her expression filled with innocent affection.

Daeron giggled, delighted by the kiss, and wrapped his little arms around her in a tight hug. She responded by snuggling into his neck, hiding her face shyly as if to escape the world in the safety of her youngest brother’s embrace.

Aegon and Aemond stood frozen in place, their jaws dropping in unison. The jealousy that coursed through them was almost palpable, their earlier argument now seeming insignificant in the face of this new development.

“How did he—” Aegon started, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Aemond, still stunned, could only shake his head. “She kissed him,” he murmured, as if saying it aloud would make it any less unbelievable.

Daeron, completely aware of the turmoil he had caused, simply looked up at his older brothers with a straight face. “We playing,” he explained in his cold voice, as if he didn't wanted them here.

Finally, Aegon stepped forward, reaching out to take his sister from Daeron’s lap. “Come here,” he said softly, his voice gentler now as he lifted her into his arms. She looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes, and his heart melted all over again.

Aemond joined them, standing close as he reached out to stroke her hair, his earlier panic forgotten. “We were so worried about you,” he murmured, his voice filled with relief.

But their sister, still cuddled against Aegon’s chest, just giggled and reached back toward Daeron, making it clear she wanted to keep playing. Daeron, proud of his little adventure, stood up and toddled over to them, his smile as bright as the sun.

“She's mine,” he said, more sharp this time, and the two older boys couldn't help but be scared of his tone.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[quin-ns]

Knuckle Velvet (Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Aegon is desperate for the love of the sister he truly wants, even if he has to take it

Tags: (18+), cw: non-con, cw: sibling incest, targaryen!reader, dark themes, choking, fingering, unprotected sex (obvi, it’s hotd times), hair pulling kinda, forced orgasm, aegon is lowkey pathetic but also threatening

A/N: first aegon fic. I’d been wanting to write for him but with the new season and him getting hotter (maybe he looks the same and I just got more into him idk) I had to write him

HotD masterlist + main masterlist

Aegon’s head weighed heavy on your lap, but even as your legs began to grow numb, you let him be. Your fingers lightly carded through his silver hair in the way you knew he wanted.

“I like it when you take care of me,” your brother had told you many times. It had to be the truth, given how often he’d seek you out just to curl up next to you.

Sometimes he’d sit like this, his head in your lap like some kind of dog, wanting his hair stroked and your words of assurance. He could fall asleep like this, or let tears slip down his cheeks. Other times he’d crawl on top of you and take the love he was desperate for. He could kiss away your silent tears, or muffle your cries with his lips.

Either way, he kept returning to you, begging for your attention and affection.

It might’ve been amusing, how weak he could be to you, if he wasn’t so terrifying at the same time.

Tonight, as Aegon muttered about his most recent council meeting, you thought perhaps you’d be spared his touch tonight.

“I should have been wed to you,” he muttered, voice holding onto a bitterness he had yet to let go. “I can stand your company and I already spend more time in your bed. I’ve suffered enough cruelty in my life, being allowed to marry who I please should’ve been a mercy I was granted. It makes no difference to our line.”

You had had this conversation many times to the point you were beyond tired of speaking about it. Helaena was the eldest sister, it had made sense to your mother and grandsire to pair the two together. They couldn’t have known the resentment that would build in the king.

Helaena was the correct choice for queen. You would not have the stomach for it. Helaena had already given birth to two of his children. Aegon was occasionally amused by them, but it was your sister that doted on them. She was a good mother. You didn’t think you could bring yourself to be. You were grateful to the maesters who would bring you tea and turn a blind eye to Aegon’s doings. The rumors that would circulate him would not ruin his future the way they would you. You’d yet to marry and if word got out you lacked virtue, you may never. You didn’t want Aegon to get the satisfaction.

You suspected Aegon no longer laid with his wife, and she was fortunate for that. If he loved you as much as he claimed and still had to kiss bruises in the morning, you didn’t dare to imagine what he could’ve done to her. She had given him a son and a daughter, and perhaps that was enough for him.

Aegon sat up and you flinched, even as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. You wondered if he recognized how insulting it was to hear him whine about his responsibilities, to listen to him say he loved you and list off the things he wanted to give you, only for him to not lift a finger for either. Duties went ignored. His love remained violent. You were tired. So very, very tired.

A hand found your face, fingers pressing into the skin of your cheek. Aegon’s thumb dragged down your lips, pulling the bottom one apart from the top. His gaze pierced yours as he let your lip go in favor of letting his thumb tilt up your chin when you tried to look away.

“Do you love me?” Aegon pleaded.

He stared at your mouth, waiting for you to speak. Your lips remained pressed together. Tears spilled further down his pale cheeks. Aegon’s face twisted as something other than just begging shined through his eyes.

Your lack of response rewarded you with a hand around the throat. Then again, you could’ve said exactly what he desired and received the same. He enjoyed his power over you as you’d never been one to fight back. At least this way you could remain somewhat defiant.

Aegon kissed you like he was trying to bruise your lips. His kiss was all teeth and tongue, forcefully claiming you as he left his mark. Aegon took what he wanted and cared nothing for charm or patience.

Hands fell to your shoulders, gliding over them for only a second before they pressed. Your back hit the mattress with a gasp. Aegon’s teeth found your neck as he crawled on top of you. The weight was already crushing. With each button on your gown he undid, the faster your heart raced.

“You are beautiful, sister,” he said, sounding wrecked already as he admired your naked body. You believed he meant it, but it didn’t spare you. “If only you weren’t being so stubborn with your words.”

Aegon’s hand on your neck was no more welcome than the first time he’d gripped it, but at least you’d grown better at controlling your breathing.

He made himself comfortable between your legs. The hand on your neck remained firm, while the other disappeared inside you.

You hated how he knew to do this. To prepare you for him. Something you were certain he’d learned at a pleasure house. That was the last thing you wanted to feel. At least if it hurt you could remind yourself you did not want this. You did not want Aegon to touch you or kiss you or fuck you. But when a warmth began to form inside you and slick coated his skilled fingers, your mind would always begin to blur and doubt crept in, while a smirk would appear on his lips. It happened every time without fail and this was no exception.

“You’ll have to speak to me sometime,” Aegon goaded, fingers stroking your walls. He leaned down over you, his lips pressing to your ear as he whispered, “Perhaps it’ll be when you scream my name.”

When, not if. Arrogance was a most undesirable feature of your eldest brother.

You tried to shut your thighs when Aegon withdrew his hand, but a harsh slap to your skin reminded you of your place. You grit your teeth and close your eyes as the head of his cock pressed into you. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done this, but it took your breath every time when he slammed into the hilt.

“Look at me,” he grunted. You could feel air hit your face, knowing his face was above you.

You cracked your eyes open when he squeezed your neck. His eyes would’ve been beautiful if they didn’t have such a lifeless quality to them.

Your throat bobbed against his hand as you swallowed, but no words left you. The sole purpose was to frustrate him. Tomorrow you’d speak to him as usual, but tonight, like you did some nights, you wanted to make your resistance known, even if his cock was buried in you.

He kissed you when he began to move. The hand on your throat remained as his lips attached to yours. His other hand groped at you, running over your hips, your waist, your breasts—anything he could touch. He thrust into you with power, forcing your legs apart. All you could do was lie there and take it.

Aegon breathed heavily against your mouth as your body welcomed him. Your mind had no say in the matter. Your warm, wet walls clung to his cock as he fucked you hard. Your legs wrapped around him without your say and that really drove him mad with lust.

His hand finally left your neck as both rose to run through your hair. Aegon’s hands were rough as he held your face in place by your scalp. Your winces of pain went ignored as usual. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room and your face grew even more heated at the sound of your own slickness that joined. He parted from your lips to watch your face.

“I can see your pleasure, sister. Your body does not lie. Your face does not lie.”

You wanted to turn your head but you could not. You gripped the sheets as he pressed into you harder with each motion, letting you feel the thick length of him inside you even longer. Your legs began to shake as heat throbbed in your belly.

“Ae—” you cut yourself off, but it was too late.

You’d begun to give him the satisfaction of winning but had snatched it away. Aegon wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t.

His eyes looked wild as Aegon fisted your hair. “Say it,” he hissed. “Say anything.”

One would have mistaken his tone for anger, or something else, but you knew what it truly was. The desperation in his voice might’ve conjured pity if he wasn’t busy splitting you open on his cock. His thrusts picked up again and you felt your body beginning to tighten around him.

Your back arched off the bed as his harsh movements forced your legs further apart to make room for him. Aegon was growing frantic, chasing his desires with fervor.

One hand stayed in your hair while the other snaked between your bodies. A moan tore through you when the palm of his hand pressed to the top of your cunt. Another trick you were certain had been taught to him to find the most pleasure. Your hips bucked down against him, the need from your body for the pressure causing it to act on its own.

It was all so overwhelming, the word slipped from your lips before you could think to stop.

“Aegon!” you cried out. You didn’t even know what for. Surely for him to stop, but a blinding pleasure began to rattle you. Your legs locked around him, holding him deep inside you as your body quivered and clenched around him. You could barely breathe as the feeling of release wracked your entire being in a sudden instant.

Aegon cursed above you, his breaths coming out harsh. He gave quick, sharp thrusts, barely able to move with the grip of your legs. You felt his cock throb of you before he spilled inside of you with a deep moan. He shoved his hips forward, encasing himself in your body as he forced you to ride out your pleasure alongside him.

Finally, when your vision began to clear, you forced your legs to drop. You laid limp beneath him as Aegon collapsed on top of you. You shivered as his face pressed to your neck. You clenched your teeth as he nipped at your bruised neck. You even felt a tear stream down your cheek.

“You love me,” Aegon stated. It was not a question this time. He lifted his head, silver hair sticking to his forehead as his eyes searched yours. “You can deny it, or refuse to speak it, but you do.”

Whether he believed that or not, you couldn’t be certain. He spoke with conviction, but as you left him without a response, you noticed the familiar glint of sadness in his eyes as he fought back tears of his own.

With a quiver to his voice he added, “And I love you.”

As much as your body ached and your neck throbbed, deep down, you knew with certainty that he believed he did.

[venusbyline]

Envy ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 02, oct.

— pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x sister!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: breeding

— summary: After Jaehaerys' murder, Aegon needs a new heir. His sister-wife is incapacitated by grief and you are the perfect choice to carry the next king.

— word count: 3.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 2nd day, Targcest (older brother/younger sister), Targaryen!reader, dark!Aegon, breeding kink, dubcon, loss of virginity, degradation, blood, creampie, sexism, overstimulation, slapping, sadism, dom!Aegon, sub!reader, minor Helaegon, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n

— crossposting: AO3

We must to say that Aegon II being furious about the murder of his heir was an euphemism. He ordered all ratcatchers should be executed and he wasn’t worried at all about the negative impact this might have on his image as King. He didn't care if the commoners would consider him a cruel man or not, he wasn't worried if the Small Council or even his own mother would give him an unbearable lecture.

Seven Hells, Aegon was the King. He sat on The Iron Throne. He should have the right to decide how to deal or not with grieving for his son. His little boy. His heir. His Jaehaerys.

Aegon needed an heir. He needed someone who would be dignified of sitting on The Iron Throne. Someone who would be brave and strong like Jaehaerys could have been if he had lived long enough to be an adult. Someone who wouldn't be so fragile and stupid like Jaehaera would probably be over the years. Someone who would be a man.

He needed breed another boy and ensure his bloodline on the Throne. However, just one look inside the shared chamber was enough to see that Helaena couldn't stand it. Even with the candles already out, Aegon could see her disheveled hair and the way she was lying on the bed, curled up like a ball, her big eyes staring at the windows of the room. She wasn't sleeping, but she didn't look alive either.

At worst, Aegon could force her into the act. But he wasn't in the mood to be so cruel, at least not with Helaena, not like this anymore. Despite doesn't loving his sister-wife, Aegon knew she was suffering too. Maybe even more than him. She was traumatized and it was clear. Having sex with her in that state would be exceeding a limit that he already promised himself wouldn't happen again. Not with her.

The King sighed, closing the door and leaving Helaena alone for her sake. He walked aimlessly through the castle's hallways for more than five minutes, trying to think about any alternative to that whole mission.

When he saw one of Alicent's maids walking around with a pile of dresses in her hands, a slightly macabre idea crossed his mind. The young man held the woman by the arm, while staring at her scary face with a cold gaze. "Take my other sister to my special accommodation. Immediately. And don't you dare tell anyone about this, unless you want to end up hanging just like those bastards rat-catching."

Aemond's twin sister was a complicated little thing in Aegon's life. You were sweet and naive like Helaena, but unlike his sister-wife when they were forced to marry, the youngest girl cultivated real affection for Aegon. Even more than for her own twin.

"Brother?" You asked confused as soon as the maid left you into Aegon's forbidden room with a worried look. You didn't know much about that specific chamber, just that Aegon didn't allow anyone to enter there without his permission. You had also heard many whispers through the hallways that indicated sometimes Aegon brought his favorite courtesans there to get more pleasure, away from the chaos of the brothels on the Street of Silk.

Your eyes narrowed, analyzing the dimly lit place with a keen curiosity, until you finally heard your older brother's voice coming out of the shadows.

"Rytsas, my little dove. You look beautiful tonight." Aegon whispered with a hoarser voice than usual, lighting some candles that were nearby.

The girl blushed at the routine pet name, smiling softly at her brother. "Kirimvose, Your Grace." Then you watched Aegon's tired face and swallowed hard before speaking. "I want to express my profound condolences about Jaehaerys again..." The same speech he had heard most during those last hours filled Aegon's ears and he grimaced, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, knowing you were just being kind and genuine. His beautiful and sweet little sister...

"Enough. We won't talk about my son's death now." Aegon murmured, trying so hard not to sound too cold, and gestured to the large bed next to him. "Sit with me, my little dove. I need to talk to you..."

You furrowed, fidgeting with your fingers by a bit of agony. Things were really weird that night. When your mother's maid called you with some urgency saying that the King wanted to see you, you thought Aegon just wanted someone to talk about Jaehaerys's grief. You were one of the few people who seemed to understand his suffering and the weight the crown was bringing to his mind. But now, being inside Aegon's forbidden room didn't seem like very appropriate, especially when Aegon wasn't in his best mental state.

"Brother... I don't know if-" Aegon interrupted you with a shout.

"DON'T YOU DARE QUESTION MY ORDERS!"

Your violet eyes filled with tears as you nodded and moved to the mattress, sitting next to your dear brother. That wasn't normal. Aegon never yelled at you like you were a mediocre servant. You were his favorite person... "Look, darling, I didn't mean to yell at you..." Aegon began, sighing and caressing your cold fingers. "I just... I need your help, do you understand? I need you to listen very carefully and not interrupt me. No stupid questions until I finish explaining myself."

Aegon took his sister's silence as a good sign and took another deep breath, moving his free hand to your delicate face, his calloused thumb touching your soft skin.

"You know how much I love you, hāedar. You're my favorite sister and I would never want to cause you any harm..." He whispered, his fingers playing with one of your blonde curls. Aegon didn't have much opportunity to see his sister with her hair unbraided, as Alicent always insisted that her daughters just undo their hairstyles during bedtime. And here he was, biting his lip as he watched how beautiful you looked without those stupid hairpins. "I don't want to hurt you, little one... The thought of hurting you in any way doesn't make me proud. I would never want that..." Aegon moved close enough so that his mouth were close to your ear, one of his hands still touching your chin and the other one playing with her blonde strands. "But I guess you know me well enough to know that I will spare no effort in punishing you if you don't understand me or don't obey me."

Aegon noticed how his sister was shaking, sitting on the mattress and trying hard to keep her eyes on him, trying her best to pretend to be confident despite the situation. The realization of what you could face was starting to become clearer by the minute, and you didn't know how to feel. Angry? Hurt? Afraid? Horny?

"I need an heir, my little dove. I need a son to sit on the Iron Throne after my death in the future..." Aegon practically purred in his sister's ear, the fingers that was touching her chin starting to go down to her collarbone, quite exposed by her nightgown "I can't let my bloodline end."

"But Jaehaera..." The girl tried to argue, but Aegon pulled roughly a strand of her hair, forcing her head back and making her whining with surprise and pain.

"I told you not to interrupt me with stupid questions until I finish speaking. Are you deaf?" Aegon growled impatiently. "Only a mindless king would allow a woman, such a stupid, fragile and influenceable creature to be part of the line of succession and rule a kingdom."

You swallowed hard, his words reminding you of Rhaenyra, your half-sister who you barely got the chance to get close to before the war. "Jaehaera's just a little girl, a child."

Aegon snorted, rolling his eyes. "And in the future she will be as foolish and fearful as Helaena always was. A daughter will always follow the same fate as her mother. It's inevitable. You women are born premeditated to suffering and failure. There's no other path for all of you than the pain of never be good enough."

Not knowing what to do, the princess bit her soft, pink lips, each piece of the puzzle that fit together making it harder for her to reason. Aegon smirked, feeling horny at the sight of your thoughts working hard to understand the complexity of what he was about to ask.

"Helaena's incapacitated at the moment, perhaps forever. I can't sleep with her in that state, it would be cruel for both of us." His argument made you nod slowly. In fact, you really didn't want your older sister to submit herself to a carnal act under such conditions, especially during the mourning phase. "I need a dignified Lady to bear my heir. A fertile, pure girl, with platinum hair. No one will ever even know that the boy will not be a result of my marriage with our sister."

Aegon distanced himself for a few seconds, analyzing you over from top to bottom, admiring your satin nightgown. He moistened his slightly chapped mouth, the feeling of his body starting to react to the sight of you was very tempting. So beautiful to the point that he even forgot Jaehaerys for a while, as well as forgetting his obligations as King and the only true need to bring another heir.

"Have you had your first... Blood, right?" Aegon questioned, and his rosy cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you. He was embarrassed to ask about such a feminine subject, even though he knew it was necessary to know if you were able to bearing children for him. Otherwise it would all be a waste of time. At least that's what you thought.

"Yes, lēkia, I had. A few years ago I started to... Flowering."

The smirk on Aegon's face returned just as quickly as his hands began to touch the soft skin of your thighs, the calluses on his fingers making you sigh by a mixture of surprise and hesitation. "That's great, little dove. Now I need you to be a good girl for me."

Aegon dreamed about fucking the youngest princess so many times that it was impossible to count the number of promiscuous dreams on his own fingers. He always imagined what it would be like having his face buried between her legs. What it would be like eating her out as she trembled and came on his face. What it would be like seeing her gag as he fucked her throat hard until those beautiful, innocent eyes filled with tears.

Ever since you grew up, Aegon dreamed about defiling you. Corrupting you. Making you his. His property, someone no other man could touch unless they wanted their necks cut off. However, nothing in the entire world could compared to that intoxicating feeling of power, knowing he wouldn't only take your virginity, but also do something much more prestigious than that... He was making you the mother of his new heir. He was giving you the honor of carrying the next Targaryen King in your own womb, the one who would succeed him and sit on the Iron Throne in the future.

"F-fuck, hāedar... You're squeezing my cock so hard..." Aegon chuckled amidst the moans, holding his sister's legs on top of his shoulders so he was sure she was feeling every inch with each thrust.

You grabbed the bed sheets, the dim lighting in the room making it difficult for your vision to stay completely focused. All you could see through the unfamiliar haze of pleasure was Aegon's body moving fast as he held your legs up, his heavy hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs by an attempt to steady himself. Despite everything, you knew he was holding back from being too violent.

"A-Aegon..." You whimpered, throwing your head back and closing your eyes. "It feels so good..."

Another low mockery escaped Aegon's lips. "It feels good, doesn't it, little sister? I told you..." He smirked almost devilishly, now only using one hand to keep you in that position, the other pressing one of your breasts as you squirmed due his rough touch. "Seven hells... I can't wait to see your tasty breasts full of milk, very hefty..."

You couldn’t help but moan again at Aegon’s dirty words. The image he placed in your head, making you arouse as you pictured yourself carrying the next Targaryen King in your womb, your body molding itself to bring him into the world.

"Oh, did you like that?" It was Aegon's turn to moan, almost whimpered, when he felt your pussy reacting to what he said, your walls practically crushing him. "You spoiled little cunt... Are you enjoying picturing yourself carrying my heir? And perhaps even more children?"

When you didn't answer him immediately, due to your brain that was still trying to get used to the pleasure and discomfort that was being fucked for the first time, Aegon caught your attention with a slap on your face with considerable strength, to the point of his wedding ring causes a small cut on your warm cheek.

"ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!" Aegon ordered with a hoarse yell, stopping moving his hips, as a way of punishing you and at the same time attracting your attention to what he was saying.

"M-my apologies, My King!" Your pathetic whimper sounded like music to Aegon's ears, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a mischievous smile. "Yes, I am... I'm enjoying picturing myself like this..."

Your admission was all he needed to keep fucking you. But Aegon already seemed bored by the same position, turning you onto your stomach with agility, barely giving time for your brain to process what was happening until he had returned inside you, the chambers filling with your surprise moans as his cock fills you again.

“Shit, I could fuck you for hours…” Aegon gripped your hips tightly, your skin starting to feel sore. "I bet you always envied Helaena for that, didn't you, little sister? You always envied the fact that she's the queen consort and for the time being you're nothing special... Just a stupid little princess."

His provocation caused a pang in your heart. Well, in a way, that was true. You knew the heavy burden that Helaena had carried since she was a child because she was forced to marry the older brother. Sometimes you heard her venting about how happier she was before she was a queen... And now because Jaehaerys' murder, you were sure that being married to the King brought more harm than good. And yet, you envied her.

"You're right..." You admitted with a bit of tears in your eyes. It was a confession you wanted to keep secret until your death, but you knew it would be impossible. You felt how Aegon's cock was starting to throb inside your pussy. The sounds he made and the faster but more irregular lunges indicating how close to the limit he already was. If you didn't tell him the truth soon, you would probably get more slaps on the cheeks. Or worse. "I envied her... I still envy her..."

Aegon let out an almost guttural growl, his fingers moving to your scalp, where he pulled violently, forcing your head back and also arching your back. "I'm going to put an heir inside your hot little pussy, do you understand me, you fucking whore? I'm going to cum inside you until my seed starts dripping out because you will be so full. And you're going to take every drop, then you will thank me for getting you pregnant, do you understand?" He growled in your ear and started fucking you deeper.

There was no concrete response, your body was focused on shaking and writhing with the pleasure that abruptly hit you, but Aegon interpreted your orgasm and your silent and desperate moan as agreement, enjoying the feeling of your pussy squeezing him even more than before, spilling all of his essence inside you afterwards.

You remained unfocused, your vision blurred and your heart racing. A few minutes passed before Aegon withdrew, a gasp of pleasure escaping his lips at having the gift of witnessing your little hole dripping with his seed and a few drops of blood too, consequences of the loss of your innocence. He ran his finger over your center, ignoring the tremor in your legs and bringing the exotic flavors blend to his own tongue and tasting it.

"Are you alright, my little dove?" Aegon whispered with a soft voice, a contrast to his previous behavior. He watched you nod slowly, your lungs straining to bring your breathing to normal. Aegon smiled, laying down next to you and pulling your sweaty, shaking body to snuggle on top of his chest. “You did very well, little sister… You were so good for me. Such a good girl." He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "What's a good princess supposed to say after getting pregnant by the King?"

Your cheeks heated up as you processed his speech. "Thank you for breeding me, Your Grace." Your words came out breathless and tired, but Aegon's smile widened and his hands caressed your belly.

"You will look so pretty pregnant with my heir..." His lips touched your neck, giving you goosebumps. "My future heir, my legacy..."

You just nodded, about to close your eyes before he stopped the sleep you were about to fall into. "We will try this every night until we're sure you're pregnant."

"And what about Helaena?" You managed to question, confused about how your sister would react to all of this.

Aegon looked at the wall, considering some alternatives for a while. "Helaena won't be a problem for us. If everything goes well, in a few months I will be free to get married again." He said, staring at the tower closed window, both of you hearing the soft breath of the night wind. He cared about Helaena, even if he didn't show it, but perhaps that was better for everyone, especially her.

Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, your heart aching for the macabre meaning of what Aegon was promising to you.

"But what if... What if something goes wrong? What if I get pregnant with a girl?"

Aegon looked at your after hearing the whispered question. His gaze was cold, as if it could tear your entire soul apart. You expected curses or anything even more violent and brutal. However, Aegon surprised you when he ran his thumb over his tongue. You didn't understand why he did that, until you let out a low whimper when he pressed the cut on your cheek, the spit on his finger burning your newly bruised skin.

A faint but sinister and almost disgusting smirk appeared on the King's features. "My dear little sister, if you disgrace me by becoming pregnant with a girl instead of a worthy heir... You will suffer a far worse and more painful fate than poor Helaena." His voice was bittersweet, like a calm threat. Perhaps you were right to envy Helaena after all.

HOTD Edition - Masteslist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[vaokses]

How long this love can hold its breath

Series Masterlist / General Masterlist

Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: It has been years since your mother took you from King's Landing to join her in Dragonstone. Years since you and Aegon have seen one another. Years in which he has refused, time and time again, to marry, even as you tour Westeros meeting suitors in search of a husband of your choosing. That refusal can easily be undone with a few words: it was you she chose, Aegon.

Word Count: 3.1k 

Warnings: Alicent's abuse of Aegon. Alcohol/drunkenness. Mentions of sex/prostitution. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Arranged marriage stuff. Angst. Hurt and kind of no comfort for now.

Some AU/Setting stuff: Reader is a bastard of Daemyra (claimed by Laenor of course), firstborn child of Rhaenyra and heir to her mother's claim. She rides Vermithor. As you'll figure out thorugh this one shot, she and Aegon had a thing when she was still in King's Landing. How relevant or impactful that 'thing' was depends on who of the two you ask. I've stretched the timeline a bit. Rhaenyra spent a few years more in King's Landing (making Aegon around 16/7 when she leaves, and the Reader, the eldest of the Velaryons, around 14/5). Instead of six years in Dragonstone, the Blacks have spent around three there in this story. Viserys still lives (and is rotting slightly slower), Aegon and Helaena did not marry.

A/N: My first work in this fandom, so i'm a bit nervous. This is a bit of a prologue/alternate PoV for a series I have in the works, but I wanted to share it as a one shot since I think it also works as one. I hope you like this!

Title is from the quote "I've hoarded your name in my mouth for months. My throat is a beehive pitched in the river. Look! Look how long this love can hold its breath." - Sierra DeMulder

It feels as if he has just rested his head on his pillow when he hears the heavy doors being pushed open, and the familiar hurried steps of his mother as she enters his apartments. 

He isn’t sure why he bothers by now in telling the guards not to let her in, since she insists on overruling his orders whenever she wishes. 

Still half-asleep, Aegon reaches for the bedsheet covering his body, wary of any attempt she might make in her anger to pull it off him. Surprisingly, his mother stops a few steps away from the foot of the bed. 

Aegon feels her piercing gaze on him, and aware the choice is between caving and chasing after her, asking her what it is she wants; or waiting for the anger at his unwillingness to follow the unspoken command -and the thrown object, or the stinging hit, that comes after said anger-; he drags his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself further and asks,  

“What is it, mother?” 

“Where in the Father’s name were you? Three days, Aegon,” He winces at the reprimand. In his defense, he truly didn’t think they’d notice. Helaena would, perhaps, but she wouldn’t seek him out either way. “You were gone for three days.” 

“I wasn’t…far. I didn’t even leave King’s Landing.” 

She starts letting out a sigh, laced with disappointment and annoyance, but stops herself short, instead turning her back to him and pacing a few steps away. 

“I know where it is you go to…to satiate your vices, caring not for the shame it brings to your name and mine, behaving most unlike your station.” 

“Then why did you ask?” 

His mother won’t turn to look at him, her back turned to him and her hands joined in front of her. 

“Your sister was here.” 

His brow furrows in confusion. 

“My sister is always here.” 

“Rhaenyra was here, Aegon.” 

“Oh. What for?” 

Alicent turns on her side, considers him with eyes widened in afront and mouth curled in disgust. The question leaves her lips slowly, a threat and a dare all at once. 

“Are you still drunk?” 

He mulls over the question for a few moments, and realizes his thoughts are entirely too calm for him to be already sober. The numb haziness of the night before remains, a comfort. 

“I think I might be,” He admits, eyes darting to the side and lingering on the pitcher of wine on a nearby table. He wonders if it is empty. “Slightly.” 

When it seems his mother is intent on merely staring at him in disappointment, he motions for her to turn away and gets dressed. 

He can’t help but feel unseemly, standing before his mother in rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, while she stands tall with not a strand of hair out of order, not a speck of dust on her dress. Then again, even at his best he hasn’t managed not to feel small, unsuited, by comparison. 

Instead of letting those thoughts linger, aided by the comfortable haze the wine from the previous night -or nights, rather- provides him with, Aegon moves to sit on a table in one of the darker parts of the room. 

Alicent follows quietly, but she doesn’t sit. 

“I come here with news. You are to be married, n-…” 

He shakes his head with a mocking laugh, the defiance as easy as breathing, after four years of holding the same stance. He might not have a say in much, but he does in this. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Your father has approved of this union. As have I.” 

He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Then you are welcome to marry her yourselves. I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you three.” 

Sometimes, perhaps in foolish hope, in some hollow fantasy, he thinks his impertinence amuses his mother. He might imagine it, he’s quite certain he does, but sometimes he swears she furrows her lips to hide the faintest of smiles. 

But of course, she shows no give, betrays not a flicker of amusement, of softness, of anything. Try as he might to earn any of them. 

“I did not come here to entertain insolence.” 

“Why did you come here, mother?” He asks, not able to reign in the restless movements of his hands, fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the table. “My stance hasn’t changed. And it won’t.” 

The restlessness building within her is betrayed in the small movements of her hands that increase in intensity the longer she looks at him. With a sudden movement, she slams a hand on the table between them and leans closer. 

“You cannot go on like this, Aegon, shrinking your duty because of the denial of a caprice of your youth.” 

“It was the one thing I asked for. I haven’t asked for anything since, nor did I ask for anything before.” 

His mother scoffs in response, looking away. 

“And that is reason enough for your wish to be granted?” She asks, derisive, almost jeering. Alicent leans back, straightens her stance again. Not too unlike Aemond adjusting his posture to strike with his sword during training, he supposes. “You have gone through your entire life doing as you please, not considering the cost to your family, to your House, to me, and you expected to be rewarded?” 

But he has considered the cost, has had no choice but to consider it, when every choice, every action, it seems almost every thought, is heavy with the impact it might have on his name, on his family. He has considered the cost, but try as he might no choice, no action, has been enough. 

“It would have…It would have changed things. If you had said yes,” He argues, an argument repeated, in his head if not aloud, a thousand times over in these passing years. And yet restlessness builds within him regardless, and he finds himself grasping at the table to keep his hands from fidgeting. “It was the smart choice. You know father would have been for it. You could have kept Vermithor on our side, and given them no choice but to play by our rules with their daughter here. We might have won this war you want so b-…” 

“All I have wanted is to make sure your lives are not forfeit when your father dies. It is not war I want.” 

“Then why did you say no?” 

She shakes her head as she looks away again. 

“The matter is settled. Long settled.” 

“Yet you never told me why.” 

He wants to hear it. More than an apology for denying him a chance at happiness, more than an admission that beyond the feelings of any involved it was the smartest choice, more than anything, he wants to hear her tell him why. 

She didn’t even hear his reasons, she didn’t even consider proposing the union to your mother, or Viserys. She dismissed him, and denied him, without even a second thought. 

He wants to know the reason why. If it was because she knew of you something he didn’t, and was certain you would have rejected him even at the cost of your home and life as you knew it, he wants to know. If it was because she believes him so monstrous that she wished to protect even the daughter of her lifelong adversary from him, he wants to know. 

If it was because in his weakness and his failings he has made himself into something even his own mother wishes to see punished, or because there was something he did -because it had to be something he did, there cannot be so many that were supposed to love him and refuse to for it not to be something he is doing wrong, something about him that is wrong- that not only managed to make his mother’s love for him vanish, but also earned him her scorn, he wants to know. He thinks knowing that to be the truth would splinter him in a way he isn’t sure he’d be able to recover from, but he is tired, and alone, and he wants to know why. 

He searches his mother’s gaze, desperate for an answer, any answer. She looks back, and yet all that is reflected back at him is contempt, disappointment, and what he fears is disgust. 

“It has been years, Aegon. You are being senselessly stubborn, holding onto this…this grudge against me.” 

He makes a face at her words, and grabs the pitcher in the table before him only to find it empty, the only wine remaining being that still in the half-filled cup. 

“It is not a grudge, I-..”  

“Weakness, then,” She sentences, and he doesn’t bother hiding the flinch at her words. His gaze lowers to the table before him. “You’re being a fool, if you think after all this t-…” 

His eyes are set on the half-full cup of wine before him, and he doesn’t dare move his gaze as he interrupts, “I am not marrying, mother.” 

She considers him in silence, and though for a moment he thinks a hit is to come -he doesn’t usually get away with interrupting her-, followed by her footsteps leaving the room, his mother takes a deep breath and insists, 

“It is not me or your father who request this of you. It is your King who commands it.” 

“The King, or his Hand?” He retorts. He grabs at the cup and downs the remaining liquid, making a face at the taste of stale wine, and presses on, “I’m guessing a Baratheon, to earn Borros’ support? Or a Tully, to secure the Riverlands?” 

For the briefest of moments, when his mother’s lips press into a thin line, hands fidgeting where they rest joined before her, he thinks he finally got the upper hand. That he proved he isn’t as blind to their plots and their increasing panic at Rhaenyra’s influence as he may appear. That he proved her wrong, that he showed he isn’t as incompetent as they’d like to think, that he… 

“A Velaryon,” Alicent admits, and any pride, any satisfaction, die out like flames in a room without air. His lips part, he knows not for what since all that leaves them is a choked breath, the beginning of a question, of a name. Aegon searches his mother’s gaze, attempts to find any truth, any certainty, but Alicent looks away. Her next words sound as if heard from underwater. “To keep you from certain execution when your sister ascends the Iron Throne.” 

“Do not toy with me, mother,” He means for it to sound like an accusation, like a demand, like anything but a plea, and yet that is what leaves his lips. Betrayed by the waver in his voice, by the iron grip on the glass, he goes on, “She’s touring the whole of fucking Westeros in search of a husband as we speak.”  

“She has made her choice, Aegon. It was you she chose,” She promises, and her voice is low and warm and almost comforting, so why does it feel wrong? Why does it make him want to crawl out of his own skin? “As for the tour, it will continue as scheduled. Rhaenyra deserted her own tour before time was due, she knows better than to repeat her mother’s mistake.” 

Breathable air is lacking by this chair, in this room, and he stands up, wincing at the too-loud sound of the chair scraping against the ground. 

He eyes a pitcher of wine in another table, and crosses the distance with quick strides, refilling his cup and draining half of it before turning to his mother again. 

“Why tell me now? I-If the tour is to continue,” If she can still change her mind, “Why tell me now?” 

“Your grandsire and I believed you might take this opportunity to amend your behaviors,” Alicent tells him, “So you might save your future wife the embarrassment, so you might protect her honor, seeing as you do not care for ours or your own.” 

She hasn’t said your name yet, he notices.  

Neither has he, but he has forgotten when it was the last time that he said it aloud. Intentionally, that is, he doesn’t count any time he let it slip past his lips when deep in his cups or buried inside some whore with the wrong shade of silver in her hair -and the wrong eyes, and the wrong voice, and the wrong smile, and the wrong touch-. 

Aegon can’t even remember when it was that he decided he wouldn’t utter your name again, all he knows is that through the years what started out of spite, as a way to deny the wound and the absence; has become something else. It has become to him something like a secret, something to be hoarded, to be kept his alone. 

Because there’s pride, and satisfaction, and something rotten but his, in having known you in ways no other did. In remembering you how he is certain -he has to be, it is of the few things he has left- no one has known you. 

And so he doesn’t speak your name. Lest in sharing any of the warmth of a bond long gone he loses it, dying embers to a strong wind; lest in admitting old truths he is left behind also by the part of you that he keeps safe, a secret only his. 

But now in his head resonate so loudly that they drown anything else -like thunder, like the beat of Vermithor’s wings taking you far up into the sky- his mother’s words.  

It was you she chose. 

Thinking of you has always meant the resurgence of the memory of the goodbye you refused to grant him, of waking to the reverberating cry of Vermithor as he took to the skies with you on his back and flew you away to Dragonstone; or the memory of your disappointment and your sorrow as he avoided your gaze and your words when you met again in Driftmark.  

Yet now the memory that comes forth in his mind is another. 

You smiled at him, daring and entirely too proud. But how could you not be, when you both knew he would oblige? How could you not be, when he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze from your lips since you had asked him for something as simple as a kiss? And your voice was softer than he’d expected -or perhaps he remembers it softer than it was, perhaps he sees something else when desire was all there was-, warmer than it had ever been, when you whispered, I want it to be you. 

And what harm can your name do that his own mind hasn’t inflicted upon him already? What ruin can the uttering of such a familiar word bring that the memories haven’t wrought already? 

So he says your name. Willingly, rationally, for the first time in years.  

He thought the foolish refusal to utter your name aloud kept you distant, kept the memory of you, the idea of you, as something far from him, gone from him. But he realizes now, with the shape of your name parting his lips and the taste of memories staining his tongue like ash; that you have been a distant memory, a distant dream, for a very long time. 

And the knowledge that you chose him, the helpless hope that blooms somewhere in his chest, they cannot do a thing against the horrifying certainty that the future he wanted, the future he mourned, is lost to him regardless of your choices now. 

What can he give you now, that that Tyrell knight the rumors say you were so enamored with cannot? How can he not fail whatever expectations you have of him, as he has failed all others? How could you want him now, as what he has made out of himself in these years you’ve spent apart? 

It was a comfort, he realizes now, thinking you lost. The comfort of knowing he couldn’t fail you, couldn’t earn your scorn when he had merely your indifference. 

A bitter, wretched little laugh leaves his lips then, and he turns his head -to hide, perhaps, the tears brimming in his eyes, the weakness his mother so loathes to see from him- and looks out the window towards the distant skies. 

Alicent doesn’t move, merely stands taller, prouder, and presses, 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

Of course, this is what he fucking wanted, but nearly four years have gone by since he asked to be allowed to marry you and was refused. Even if some part of him wants it, wants you, still, it matters not. 

It is what he wanted, before. Before everything got worse, before everything got louder, harder. Before he got worse. Before you forgot about him. 

His mother approaches him then, and though he jumps when he sees her reach for him out of the corner of his eye, she grabs onto his forearm and speaks again, forceful, determined, 

“Listen to me, Aegon. Your sister has secured her hold on the Seven Kingdoms, both through the strength of her dragons and through her eldest children’s diplomacy with the noble Houses,” His mother tells him, but he cannot hear her, not over the warring thoughts of finally, finally, finally, and too late, too late, too late. “Rhaenyra has allowed for this to happen because she wishes to extend an offer of peace, and you cannot squander this opportunity.” 

He turns to her and asks, quietly, forlorning, “Why now?” 

“What?” 

“Why now?”

Why now, that everything is worse? Why now, that he has become this? 

For a moment, a flickering moment gone in the blink of an eye, he thinks he sees sadness, sympathy, in his mother’s warm gaze. For a moment, he believes she will offer words or touch in the way she hasn’t before, in comfort or in reassurance. 

But her gaze falls from his, and her grip on his arm -too tight, almost bruising, yet wanted, needed, if it is all he can get- loosens as she lets go of him. 

“The betrothal will be announced when the tour is over. The wedding in a week’s time from then.” She tells him, detached, not unlike a messenger delivering a missive. 

And with that she leaves his apartments. The door closing echoes in his mind, and he is left behind with a loneliness he doesn’t know where to put, and a hope he doesn’t know how not to fear. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, and I would love to hear your thoughts!

I am endlessly fascinated by the greens and their deeply weird dynamics, and I hope I did them a modicum of justice, even when changed in this AU and despite the influence of fanon in my interpretations of them.

[starogeorgina]

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲

The king's queen and hand

Paring: Aegon ii Targaryen × reader × Criston Cole

Warnings: Swearing, smut, incest

Lewd moans fall from your mouth, and your fingers pull roughly on Criston’s thick, dark hair, encouraging him to keep going. His mouth is glued to your clit while he scissors two fingers inside your cunny.

“I’m going to— fuck!” You slump back further into the dark green chair. You look down at Criston as he withdraws his fingers from you, then swipes his tongue between your folds, then back to your clit. “Gods, Criston!”

Aegon could spend days fucking you, filling you with his seed over and over again. From the moment you even utter a word about having another babe he practically locks the two of you in your shared bedchamber until he’s convinced his seed has been taken. The same fiery dragon's blood runs through your veins, and you have an insatiable appetite for being intimate; however, even your husband knows when to switch things up. Criston did not. The king's hand would keep his head buried between your thighs until instructed otherwise.

“Cole,” Aegon leans over the top of the chair, his hot breath smelling of wine. Creeping his hands lower, he smirks and pinches your nipples. “Wife, I trust you are fully satisfied.”

You arch back, and when Criston’s nose brushes against your clit, he thrusts his tongue deeper inside you. “Yes, Ser Criston has been keeping me happy while we waited for you to return.”

"Well, I’m back now,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Cole, we shall take—“

“No, don’t stop!” You are so close to the edge that your fingers scrape along the wooden arms of the chair. “Ser Criston, your queen demands you keep going.”

Aegon tuts, “greedy.”

“I am not,” you say, holding Criston’s head in place when he touches the spot that makes your toes curl. “Besides, it’s not my fault. He does such a good job of pleasing me, I cannot get enough.”

Hearing your praise, Criston speeds up his action, causing moans of pleasure to escape your mouth. Amused, Aegon shakes his head. He lightly grips your throat with his large hand; he applies enough pressure to give you a thrill but not hard enough to restrict your breathing.

“Cole is greedy for your cunt, and you, dear wife, are just greedy to feel pleasure.”

“And?”

Aegon inhales sharply, and his gaze moves to your breasts, which are teetering on spilling from your silk nightdress. Your fingers are the laces in his breeches. “Are you feeling left out, my king? Do you desire some attention?”

He tilts his head back and groans when you wrap your hand around his hard cock, smearing the oozing cum on his tip with your thumb. With your free hand, you yank your nightgown down at the front, and Aegon gropes at them.

“Gods,” you squeal when your legs begin to shake. Your thighs close over, locking Criston in place as he devours you with his mouth like a man starved. “Fuck, I’m cumming!”

A combination of you stroking his cock and watching you come undone, Aegon spills his seed across your breast. After regaining his composure, he laughs and strokes sweat-covered hair out of your face. “I shall have the servants set up the bathing chamber for us. What say you, Cole? Care to join me in bathing our queen?”

Criston finally pulls his mouth away from you, his lips swollen and the lower part of his beautiful face glistening with your arousal. He nods, “Yes, my king.”

[leviathanspain]

pretty when you cry

aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

synopsis: sneaking into your brothers chambers has sickening consequences

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

aemond was pounding into you with alarming speed. his taut body was hot against yours, and his slender fingers were gripping the skin of your thighs. he was moaning in your ear, you trapped underneath him, you were clawing at the bedsheets.

“aemond,” you mewled, struggling for release from his relentlessness.

aemond hissed, “shush, i can’t concentrate..” he was steadily focused on not finishing early, he was bent on making you squeeze the cum out of him, but out of your own release.

aemond flipped you over suddenly, and you were disoriented, even as he filled you up again, aemond was now over you, his face dangerously close to yours.

he was groaning now, shaking impossibly as he rutted into you.

as you felt the pressure building, you heard the chambers doors open, a huge and heavy creak was heard, just as a flash of silver hair was seen. you blinked, hoping your eyes had deceived you.

aemond didn’t even notice, all he was focused on was your cunt, and the way you felt full of him.

aemond squeezed your breast, his fingers gripping your nipples tightly, he pulled as you groaned with pain.

“aemond,” you moaned, and you let a hand fall down to his back, pulling him in for more, “aemond!” you screamed just as you came, you clawed at the skin on his back just as aemond came too.

you both looked into each others eyes, you into his eye, smiling, until you saw someone creep over aemonds shoulder.

aegon clapped his hands together, slowly and with a sick smirk.

“what a show!” he chuckled, “sister,” he looked at you, your face covered with sweat and flushed, you looked away in shame, “brother.” aegon looked at aemond, eyebrows raised.

“i’m going to assume that no one has any idea of this..arrangement?” he pondered a thought in his head, just as aemond pulled out of you.

you were bare, wet with slick and fluids, aemond closed your legs as he shucked on a robe from the floor.

aegon looked you over and shrugged, “i won’t tell if you open up.” aegon crawled onto the bed and you felt him pull your legs open. you watched him carefully, aware that aemond was staring at the sight of the two of you.

aegon pulled you up by your legs, letting them rest on his shoulders as he sucked at your cunt. you were surprised at the pleasure, struggling to be quiet, aegon did something to you that left you moaning loudly.

aemond made you scream, but aegon was on the verge of making you sob.

you squirmed under him, but aegon held you down, his eyes looked up at you, his mouth full of your juices, and aemond’s cum.

aegon sucked like a starving peasant, and you shuddered as you came right onto his tongue.

aemond pulled aegon back and shoved his cock right in you.

you were still shaking from the last orgasm, and aemond was irritated at having his older brother basically show him up. clearly, one eyed aemond wasn’t having it.

aegon smirked at you but your eyes were too busy rolling into the back of your head.

“fuck her like you mean it. or i will!” aegon egged his brother on and just as aemond had listened, aegon shoved him out of the way, “move. i’ll show you.” he muttered, taking his cock out, he spat on it once before shoving it into your cunt.

you moaned loudly, aegon felt different to aemond. aemond was long, slender, but what aegon had was girth, girth that made you feel like you were being torn in half.

“fuck!” you screamed, the nerve of aegon to quicken his pace was irritating, but so pleasureable.

aemond was getting agitated, annoyed that you were being fucked to tears by his brother, he got under you, and shoved his cock in your other hole.

you hadn’t toyed with that hole yet, but as aemond slammed into you, you felt the tears spill onto your cheeks as you screamed bloody murder.

aemond and aegon both laughed together, “look at her,” aegon muttered as he thrusted, aemond following his lead, “so fucking,” he thrusted, “full of cock,” again, “it hurts.” and he quickened now.

you were on aemond’s chest, and you bit your lip as he rutted into you.

aemond squeezed your leg, “you look so pretty when you cry.” he whispered. you sniffled just as another tear slipped down your cheek.

“aegon,” you cried, “please..” you couldn’t even form the words as you came, shaking violently in between them, both brothers were chuckling at the sight of you blubbering, and crying, stuffed full of cock.

aegon slapped your face lazily, “stay with us,” he grunted, “be a good girl now.”

aemond slammed into you, and you shrieked again, earning another slap of encouragement from aegon.

“don’t think this will be over soon.” one of them warned, but you were so dazed you weren’t sure who.

[vsnyarbll]

the crown

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader x Aegon II Targaryen

words: 4.566

summary: Y/N's lovers stole Aegon the Conqueror's crown for her. And they have plans for the night.

warnings: incest, 18+, SMUT (dom!aemond, threesome, sub!reader, fingering, cum play, penetration, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial)

a/n: Sorry for any mistakes. English is not my native language. / This one is the first smut I've ever written. You have been warned. MDNI

"I can't believe what you said to Lady Lannister!" said Baela, unable to contain her laughter.

"Keep your voice down, Baela." Y/N said, laughing.

"What was funny was Lord Lannister's expression. Did you see that, love? I think he wasn't facing you," said Jace, shaking Baela's arm.

"I didn’t see it! How could I miss it?!"

“When we get to our chambers, I'll make an impression of him for you.”

"Shut up, both of you." She was afraid that her mother or one of her aides would overhear them. Her known disagreement with the Lords had always been a problem for her.

Their walk down the hallway was a little shaky. They were all almost drunk except Y/N. It had been a long, tiring day. They had gotten up early in the morning and gone dragon riding, and the afternoon had been all about celebrating the king's name day.

Y/N usually liked to get drunk. She enjoyed forgetting all her duties and responsibilities for a moment. But she didn't want to deal with a morning headache on top of a busy day.

Everyone had a great time at the celebration. But at the end of the evening, the lady said some unpleasant things about Prince Aemond. First, she criticized the desserts served at the celebration. Then how the traditions of the Targaryens don't fit in Westeros. Y/N didn't remember much of what she said next. But she remembered that Lady Lannister told her that Aemond was a monster who needed to be in the dungeons and said she felt very sorry for Y/N. What she'd said about Aemond had been enough to make her blood boil. She didn't need to remember how she had humiliated her family to lash out at her.

"Jace! I promised Grandma I'd stop by her room," said Baela.

"Where was her chambers?" he asked and held out his arm for her to take. "I don't know,” she said, taking his arm.

Y/N wanted to bang her head against the walls. They were standing in front of their grandmother's chambers. She was never this fool like them when she was drunk.

Right?

"We're in front of her chambers," Y/N said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, Jace! My love! Look, there's her chambers." She left Jace and walked towards the door.

"Do you have to go?" Jace said with tears in his eyes. Y/N held herself back from rolling her eyes again.

"I promise I'll be in our room in five minutes."

Jace grabbed Baela tightly around the waist and pulled her to him. "You promised, my beautiful wife."

"Yes, but I need to know what I promised,” she said in a flirtatious voice.

"I'd be happy to give you a little rundown," Jace said and pressed his lips to hers. As they kissed, Jace's hand slid down to her lower back.

Y/N saw things escalating and grabbed her brother's arm and pulled. "We're leaving, Jace. Come on."

"I'm going to tell my mother!"

"Tell her what?! That Y/N stopped us from having sex in the hallway?"

Jace took a deep breath and turned to his wife. "My love. I'll be ready when you get back to our room."

"Jace!"

Baela ignored Y/N's protests and pulled Jace to her, bringing her lips to his. "Come on, leave Y/N in her chambers, darling, and I'll keep my conversation with my grandmother as brief as I can. i will be in our chambers in five minutes.”

Jace nodded reluctantly and offered his arm to Y/N, who took it. Just as they were about to continue on their way, Rhaena came up from behind, panting. "I still haven't gotten over tonight's perfection. Someone had to put that woman in her place."

"Can you shut up about this subject? All of you. If my mother finds out, it'll be the last time you see me."

"Y/N, I can't believe you're still tense. When was the last time you and Aemond made love?"

"Don't wake the dragon Rhaena," she said, mocking the sentence.

"Oh, I'm sure the dragon in you is awake. The question is, is Aemond's dragon awake?"

"Rhaena, you are supposed to be the good one among us!" They all laughed.

Y/N and Aemond's chambers were the closest ones to them in the hallway.

Rhaena, Jace, and Y/N continued walking down the hall arm in arm. "Good night, Y/N," he said as they came to the door of her chambers. "Good night Jace." they hugged each other briefly.

"I'm sure Jace will have a good night," said Rhaena. Y/N laughed to her respond and went into her chambers.

Y/N was surprised at the state of mind that alcohol had put Rhaena. She usually had a shy nature. Rhaena would never start a conversation unless someone spoke to her. Y/N liked that alcohol made her so outspoken.

xxx

It had been a long day, and she finally had the peace of being alone. She couldn't wait to get into bed and snuggle up to her husband. The last time she saw her husband was in the middle of the day. Then Prince Daemon called all the men and told them they had something important to do.

Since then, no one had seen any of the men in the family except Jace, who insisted on staying by Baela's side.

She felt her insides fill with longing for Aemond.

She moved further into the room, eager to get rid of her heavy jewelry and dress as soon as possible.

She had just taken a few steps away from the door when someone knocked. "Princess, I have come to prepare you for sleep," the maid said from behind the door.

"I will prepare myself tonight, Lola. You may go."

"As you wish, Princess."

"Good night, Lola. Dream of me," said Y/N with a smile.

"Good night, Princess."

Y/N walked to the vanity table. She reached up to her right ear and slowly removed the earring.

"Hello, wife."

She was startled by the unexpected sound but did not show it.

As she placed the earring in one of the boxes on the table, she replied. "Hello, husband." Her back was to Aemond.

She hadn't seen him when she entered the room. In her head, she briefly weighed where he might be when she entered the room. "Where were you when I entered the room?"

"I was on the couch, but I think you were too distracted to notice."

She nodded her head. Lord Lannister wasn't the only thought that troubled him. He was the least of her worries.

"Good evening, Y/N."

She sighed deeply at the second voice. Y/N could barely manage one of her lovers. And now they were both in the room.

"Aegon, I am too tired to do anything."

"I didn't say anything!"

"I could tell by your tone."

Aegon and Aemond looked at each other shortly.

Y/N put her other earring in the box. Then she reached for the necklace that matched her earrings. She put it next to the earrings and closed the box.

"We have a surprise for you. And I'm sure it will change your mind," Aegon said.

Y/N could hear the grin in his voice. "You finally convinced Cregan Stark to join us?

Aegon gave a fake laugh. "It wasn't funny the first time you said it. It's still not funny. "

"I think it's hilarious.”

"We will make you regret this whole Cregan Stark thing tonight. Maybe then you'll realize it's not funny."

"There will be no such thing as tonight, Aegon."

"I guess we will make you chew your own words too."

Y/N could hear her lovers whispering amongst themselves as she pulled the hairpins out of her hair. Her silver-gold, wavy hair fell over her shoulders.

Aemond kept his eyes on her as he spoke to Aegon, not wanting to miss any of her movements.

"Y/N, we stole something for you."

"You stole? What could you have stolen?" she said as she turned around. Why would a prince need to steal something?

Aegon grinned and raised the item in his hand a little higher. Y/N froze at the sight of Aegon holding a crown.

"You steal a crown?"

"It's not just any crown, Y/N. It's King Aegon's crown," said Aegon.

“I know. I'm the one who told you this crown was Aegon's.”

Aegon narrowed his eyes and looked at her with mock anger. “We had to pass a lot of guards to get into the crown room. Please, let's make this night worth it.”

Y/N walked towards her lover. She ran her fingers over the crown. The steel was cold, but it felt like it was burning her fingers.

The crown was more than just an object. It symbolized the most critical power in the world. Both Y/N and Aemond were aware of it.

Aemond had never seen Y/N with a crown on her head.

His greatest wish was to see her with a crown sitting on The Iron Throne.

Together they were the perfect couple. They both wanted power and each other more than anything else in the whole world.

On the other side, Aegon balanced them. He didn't want power or the throne. He just wanted to live out his days in Y/N's arms.

Aemond took the crown from Aegon's hand and carefully placed it on Y/N's head.

"It's going to be a great night," Aemond said. He reached up and kissed her forehead. "But if you drop the crown, we will end the night, and you will sleep like that, all needy."

Y/N wanted to squeeze her legs at that very moment. Aemond's words, especially the way he said them, had already made her ears burn with need.

Aemond took Y/N by the arm and brought her in front of the mirror. "Look at yourself, Y/N." He came close behind her until there was no distance between them.

Aemond pulled her hair aside, exposing her neck, and began to kiss the pale skin.

Y/N gasped when she felt Aemond's lips on her neck. "You look so powerful," he said and continued to place wet kisses on her neck. "Yet you need my permission to do the slightest thing.” He started running his hands along her arms. "Imagine a queen ordering people around,” This time, his hands went to the neckline of her dress, tugging at it as much as possible. Her shoulders and the tops of her breasts were exposed. "ruling a kingdom," He leaned close to her ear, making sure his breath touched her ear as he spoke. "subduing all the impudent lords." He put a sly smile on his lips. "But she can't even cum without her husband's permission.”

She gasped at his words.

Aegon was bored with the lack of attention he was getting.

And also, there had been an uncomfortable hardness in his trousers ever since they stole the crown.

He, like Aemond, longed to see Y/N with a crown on her head. He didn't care about the concept of power, but the thought that his lover had that power was exciting for him.

Her ascension to the throne was a big dream of his. Returning to their chambers, he imagined her on the Iron Throne and almost came in his pants.

Aegon took her by the arm and pulled her to the center of the room again. "I missed you so much," he said as he buried his nose in her neck. He inhaled her scent as if he wanted to fill his lungs with the scent.

Aegon's breaths tickled her neck. She giggled and said, "You only saw me this morning."

"We did more than seeing each other." Aegon's voice muffled in her neck.

Aemond snorted and turned her toward him. "It's my turn now, then."

Aegon moved dangerously close to her from behind and protested against Aemond. "You left her to go to sword training. Someone had to take care of your wife's needs."

"Unlike you, with all the sword training, I'll be able to protect her."

"Against what exactly? Dragons?” He said, referring to the nonsense fairy tales they grew up listening to sleep. They never understood why a knight had to protect a princess from a dragon. Y/N had always thought the princess could defend herself with her dragon. On the other hand, Aemond argued that an insignificant knight could not kill a dragon. He was right. He knew he was right. But he couldn't defend his idea too much because his brother Aegon had said he had no right to comment on such a thing. After all, he didn't have a dragon. At the end of that day, Y/N punched Aegon. She said he would stop all this nonsense, or she would cut out his tongue.

Surprisingly, the two brothers were on good terms after that day.

"That's why nobody loves you, Aegon."

“Did I say something wrong?”

Y/N turned around again. She held Aegon's face tightly. She knew how sensitive this was for Aegon.

He hadn't been loved or respected by his family. In everyone's eyes, he was a drunk, useless person.

Y/N didn't understand how people hated Aegon. He was a sensitive and gentle soul. But the people around him had forced him to be someone else. "I don't hate you, my love."

Aegon averted his eyes, and she tilted her head, trying to catch his gaze. "Neither does Aemond.”

Aemond reached out to either side of Y/N and took hold of Aegon's arms. "I don't hate you, Aegon.”

Aegon spoke, trying to hide his smile. “We'd better get to work before someone notices the absence of the crown.”

Y/N lifted her head and tried to reach Aegon's lips.

Aegon immediately granted her request. His kisses were calm and loving at first. But neither Aegon's soft kisses nor Aemond's hands on her waist were enough for her.

Y/N brought her hand to the front of his pants and pressed her hand against the hardness. Aegon was relieved to get some reaction, finally.

He put his hands on her cheeks and pressed his lips to her even harder.

Aemond started untying the strings at the back of her dress.

After loosening the last line of the dress's back, he ran his fingers up her spine without removing the dress. She shivered at the sudden sensation.

Aegon moved his lips to her neck, and Aemond pulled the sleeves of the dress away from her.

She was holding the front of her dress so it wouldn't fall. Aemond began planting kisses on her back and shoulders. The lips and tongues of her lovers running along her body made her feel so tense.

Aegon broke their kiss. He took her hands and interlocked their fingers.

The silk dress that hugged her soft skin slid down her body. Aegon studied her body with interest and hungry eyes as if seeing her for the first time.

Aemond pressed his hardness against her now naked arse.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. He turned her to him and began to kiss her, attacking her lips.

Wasting no time, he rolled his tongue into her mouth. He squeezed her breast with his right hand as he swirled his tongue around hers.

He put his other hand on her waist to support her. Y/N wrapped her hands around Aemond's neck and tangled her fingers in his long hair.

He brought his hand on her breast to her nipple.

At first, he started to draw small circles on the nipple. Then, when he didn't get a response, he pinched it hard. Y/N moaned into his mouth.

From the corner of his eye, he looked at Aegon, whose presence in the room he had briefly forgotten. He had taken off his jacket and thrown it on the couch and was struggling to unbutton his shirt.

Aemond immediately parted his lips from hers. "Keep your clothes on. Tonight only she will be naked."

Y/N couldn't stop her body from trembling with desire. She pressed herself against Aemond's erection.

She was excited because of the idea that she was the only one of them naked. Aemond and Aegon smirked simultaneously.

"Y/N, sometimes I think you're a whore worthy of a brothel," he said and started buttoning his shirt. "And most of the time, you confirm it.”

Y/N snuggled up to Aemond. He started stroking her back and lowered his hand slowly.

"Lay down on the bed, Aegon."

Aegon did what he said.

Aemond walked towards him, still holding Y/N tightly. "Pull down your pants."

The other two watched as Aegon unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. When he pulled his pants down to mid-thigh, Aemond stopped him again. "Just pull it down enough."

"What do you want from me, Aemond?! I will die of frustration."

Without saying anything, Aemond began to run his hand over Y/N's stomach.

Then he gradually lowered his hand.

He ran his hand over her folds, but he still wasn't giving her the touch she wanted.

Y/N held on to his arm tightly.

"Do you think my brother deserves your cunt, Y/N?"

"Yes, yes! Please."

"Hmm, I think he was going well until just now."

He slid his long fingers between her folds. He slid his fingers up and down a few times. Finally, he pressed two fingers against her clit. She moaned softly and clung even tighter to his arm. "I'll let you fuck her if you don't touch yourself until I say so."

Aegon sighed at the sight in front of him. It was an almost impossible task, but he wanted to fuck her more than anything.

He nodded his head.

"Please do something, Aemond," she begged desperately.

He started circling her clit.

At first, he didn't apply too much pressure. When she got used to the stimulation, he increased the pressure.

Y/N could no longer hold back her moans. She felt herself getting closer and closer to cumming.

She felt like every part of her body was on fire.

"Are you close, my love?"

"Yes, I am so close. Don't stop." Her voice trembled with the need to reach her climax.

Then suddenly, Aemond stopped the movement of his fingers. Y/N made a strangled noise. "Why did you stop?!"

”It's Aegon's turn now, my dear. Get on top of him”

She did not want to leave Aemond's warm arms, but she also wanted to be with Aegon.

Y/N climbed on top of Aegon and sat on his legs. She ran her fingers over Aegon's cock.

She started drawing circles on the tip with her thumb. Aegon's cock throbbed with need. He lifted his hips, thrust himself into her hand, and moaned, wanting more.

“Don't tease him, wife.”

Aemond didn't need to say it twice. Y/N was already eager to fulfill his wishes.

She stroked Aegon's cock a few times. Then put her knees on either side of his legs and straightened up on her knees.

She placed his cock at her entrance and slowly began to sit on it.

They both moaned with relief.

Aegon's breathing quickened as she took all of him inside her.

Y/N felt his cock touch that spot inside her that almost made her lose her mind. No one but the two of them could have been so in tune with her and fucked her as well as they did.

Aemond pressed his body against Y/N's from her left side. The rough fabric of his suit almost stung her sensitive skin.

“Fuck yourself with his cock.”

Aemond's tone of voice was different in such moments. His voice would become more dominant with the feelings of desire. It was one of Y/N's favorite things to hear on nights like this, and another was Aegon's whimpers and moans.

She started bouncing on Aegon’s length. But even though she tried to speed up as she could, she was still too slow.

Aemond tsked from her side. “I know you can do better. Look at poor Aegon. You torment him.”

Y/N tried to pick up the pace, driven by the instinct not to disappoint Aemond. But all three knew Y/N wouldn’t make herself or Aegon cum without help.

“When you take one of our cocks inside, you lose all your functions.”

Y/N moaned in response to Aemond's words.

Aegon placed his hands on her thighs and squeezed hard. Her skin was already red, and she was sure that if he kept holding her thighs so hard, there would be bruises in the shape of Aegon's fingers.

She was already close to her climax. Aegon was no different from her. Aegon would have lasted much longer on a casual day, but seeing Y/N with a crown pushed him to his limits.

He could no longer resist her bouncing breasts. Aegon reached out and squeezed them. Y/N moaned loudly in response, and her walls tightened around him.

He knew she was on the edge of her climax. Whenever she was close, her walls became, in Aegon's words, 'delicious'.

Aegon looked at Aemond. He understood what he meant. "Are you close, my little dragon?"

"Yes, Aemond. Please!”

“Beg properly.”

“Please-“ Her words caught in her throat as Aegon lifted his hips and started pounding. “Please let me cum.”

“Good girl. You can cum after Aegon does.”

Aegon let go of her breasts and pinched her nipples.

Y/N threw her head back under the weight of the pleasure she felt.

And then the last thing she wanted to happen to her that night happened.

The crown slipped from her and fell on Aegon's legs.

Aemond stopped her movement completely. He pressed her hips against Aegon to prevent even the slightest movement.

Y/N slowly opened her eyes.

Aegon was frustrated that everything had stopped a few moves before he cum.

Aemond was looking at her with his usual expression. No one could ever tell from his facial expressions what he was thinking.

He lifted her off Aegon and sat her on the bed next to him. Her legs were aching with every movement.

“I told you if you dropped the crown, you'd go to bed needy.”

Y/N felt helpless under the weight of having her orgasm taken away for the second time that night.

Her eyes filled with tears.

But at the same time, it felt so good to feel Aemond's power over her. He was the one who decided when she would or would not have an orgasm.

“I'm sorry."

“You're lucky you're so pretty. Maybe I'll change my mind by the end of the night.”

“Thank you, Aemond."

“Good girl. You know when to say thank you.”

She nodded. Aemond felt weak at her submissiveness.

It was a perfect fit. Y/N was a perfect match for him.

“And what about me?” asked Aegon.

Aemond thought for a while, planning the rest of the night. “Get on your knees, Y/N.”

Y/N immediately got out of bed. She moved in front of Aemond and got on her knees.

“You know what to do.”

Y/N pulled Aemond's cock out. The tip was dark pink with need and dripping precum. She almost drooled at that sight.

She pumped his cock several times with her right hand. Then she brought her lips close to the tip. Y/N knew Aemond was an impatient man, and she didn't want to keep him waiting.

He moaned as she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock. The slightly salty taste of precum made her squeeze her thighs.

Slowly she began to take more and more of him into her mouth.

When his tip touched the back of her throat, she stopped and began to move back and forth along its length. She used her hand for the part she couldn't put in her mouth.

Aemond was not pleased that Y/N refrained from gagging. He tangled his fingers in her hair and began to push his cock slowly down her throat. She rested her hands on his thighs for support.

Aemond moaned again as she gagged around him. His cock brushed the back of her throat a few more times, and her eyes watered.

Aegon stood up and came over to them. He wrapped his right hand around his cock, trying to reach his orgasm. "You're perfect for us," said Aegon.

Aemond pulled his cock out of her mouth, stepped back, and began to try to empty himself with his hand.

Y/N sat on her knees at their feet, looking at them through her eyelashes. Her cheeks were wet with tears, drool running down her lips to her chin.

The sight alone was enough to make them both come on the spot.

Aegon was the first to cum on her breasts, and it was not long before Aemond followed.

Aemond walked to the bathroom as Aegon leaned over her. He took as much of the seed from her breast as he could with two fingers and brought it to her lips.

She immediately parted her lips and began to suck her lovers's seed from Aegon's fingers. She began to bob her head as she ran her tongue around his fingers.

Aemond came back from the bathroom with a towel.

Aegon removed his fingers from her mouth and let Aemond take his place. He wiped over her breasts, then took her arm and pulled her to her feet.

Y/N sat on the bed and waited for her lovers to change.

They both changed into their night clothes and sat on either side of her.

"I was good. I've done everything you asked me to do."

"What do you want, little dragon?"

"Please make me cum."

"Lay down on the bed."

Y/N did as Aemond told her and lay down on the bed. Aemond settled on her right side and Aegon on her left.

Aemond put his hand to her folds. He growled when he felt how wet she was. "You are so wet for us."

"Of course she is. You know how much she likes to suck our cocks."

Aemond slipped his two fingers inside her and played with her sweet spot. Y/N, still aroused from before, instantly turned into a moaning mess.

Aegon pressed his lips to hers and began to kiss her. With his left hand, he began to knead her breast. "Our whore," he said against her lips.

Y/N arched her back as Aemond began to play with her clit.

She reached the edge of her orgasm when Aegon lightly bit her where her neck met her shoulder.

"Aemond, I'm close," she said breathlessly.

Aemond drew a few more circles on her clit and withdrew his fingers. Aegon saw Aemond's hand stop moving, and he moved his lips and his hand away from her body.

Y/N looked at Aemond with red cheeks and tears in her eyes. "But you said I will cum."

“No, I said maybe I could change my mind. But when you dropped the crown and disobeyed me, you should have known the night would end this way.”

“Aemond, I'll do anything. Please.”

"All your orgasms belong to me. When you cum, you cum for us, not for yourself."

Y/N swallowed.

"Let's go to sleep now," Aemond said.

She turned to her other side and looked at Aegon.

"I'm sorry. You heard Aemond."

A tear fell from Y/N's left eye.

Aemond reached for the bedspread and covered the three of them.

Aegon took Y/N in his arms. Aemond hugged her from behind.

"Stop squirming and go to sleep, Y/N," said Aemond.

Y/N buried her head in Aegon's neck.

She fell asleep, trying to ignore the ache between her legs.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x FemReader| Masterlist

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen.

You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

"An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle. But it will never break." - A Chinese Proverb

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty-Two

Part Twenty-Three

Part Twenty-Four

Part Twenty-Five

Part Twenty-Six

Part Twenty-Seven

Part Twenty-Eight

Part Twenty-Nine

Part Thirty

Part Thirty-One

Part Thirty-Two

Part Thirty-Three

Part Thirty-Four

Spotify Playlist

YouTube Playlist

Fan Made Playlist

All typical Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon warnings apply to this story, but I will put specific ones above each chapter.

[vivalarevolution]

𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓯

Aegon Targaryen x Niece Reader

Request: „Aegon taking care of his wife when she gets into severe depression after she loses both sons through miscarriage.‟

A/N: A request from anon. Although I'm not the best at writing angst due to my dislike of the genre and lack of skill, I decided to put this request on paper, modifying a few things along the way so that I could write it as best as I can and being comfortable with idea. Nonetheless I hope you will enjoy this work and have a pleasant time reading it in the end.

Blood There was so much blood. On her hands, on her legs, on her dress, which was once white, now turned crimson.

Everything around her seemed muffled. Every sound was like a distant whisper from above the water, every image in front of her eyes blurred within seconds, as if everything ceased to exist.

And how much she wanted it, how much she wanted it to be true. But the brutality of reality hit her like raging waves on the sea, keeping her from rising to the surface, making her drown in despair and pain.

She needed something, someone to pull her out, but she was all alone. And she hated him for it. She needed him, but he had left her in agony.

-Where were you? - she asked in a voice worn out by crying and screaming, exhausted and tired - Where were you?! - she repeated, feeling her fury wrap around her body like an old friend's arms - Where were you, Aegon?!

-I...- he began, but he couldn't finish, he couldn't explain, the guilt was stabbing him like a dagger stuck between the ribs , reminding him every time he breathed.

The woman stood up, leaving scarlet stains on the satin white sheets. Another dose of bitterness filled her veins, making her bewildered with fury.

-I woke up with pain so mercilessly great that a scream was the only thing that could escape from my throat - she whispered coldly, clenching her hands into fists - I cried and begged for it all to end, that it would all just be a nightmare - she said approaching him making him want to step back but his legs wouldn't move - I thought the gods heard me because I was suddenly enveloped in darkness, but when I opened my eyes again I was met with an ocean of blood and the news that my sons had died. And there was no one to take this pain away from me, there was no one to soothe my heart.

Aegon felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if air was not being given to him, as if he had been told to suffocate to punish him.

-I'm sorry - he choked out, feeling his vision blurred by incoming tears - I'm sorry.

Y/n stared at him with hatred burning like wildfire. He had no right to cry, he had no right to mourn, he had no right to apologize, he had no right.

-Your words don't matter - she said so coldly that a shiver ran through the man's body - You weren't here when I needed you. Why uncle? Why are you never here? Why are you the only one who can help me but you're never here? I hate you for this! I hate you!

Woman became hysterical, taking it out on her husband, who with absent eyes allowed every stroke, every word , that hurt him so hard and deep that he felt as if his heart was bleeding.

-I'm sorry - he whispered, wrapping his arms around her struggling body, pressing her against his chest no matter how much she fought to break free from his soothing embrace.

Her crying was the worst sound he had ever heard in his life, he wanted it to end ,he wanted it all to end. But he knew it wasn't over. 

It started with denial.

He had to watch as his beloved stubbornly wore larger dresses. She couldn't accept that her once round belly was now flat. Every rational word on the subject melted in the wind because she wasn't listening, no matter how hard Aegon tried to sober her mind.

Then was anger. 

Aegon still had the scars left by Y/n's long fingernails. He knew she didn't mean to hurt him, he knew it wasn't her real intentions but she had to take it out and he preferred her to do it on him, he thought he deserved it.

Bargaining was like a reflection of a labyrinth, there was no exit , only numerous corridors. 

Every question, every activity, every solution. It was all useless, worthless. It was like a wheel that needed to be broken.

But then depression came , and she was like old friend ,enveloping woman’s body in an embrace of sadness.

This was the moment when Aegon didn't know what to do, staring helplessly at the body of his wife, who was motionless and showed no signs of life. He felt like he was in control of her. He carried her, washed her, sometimes forced her to eat, not knowing himself or her anymore. They became completely different people when in reality life showed them what it really is, how brutal and merciless it can be.

And then the shadow of hope came  , the shadow of acceptance.

Y/n stared at her reflection, her hands resting on her stomach, stroking the fabric of her black dress. Her face was calm, almost expressionless. Her eyes wandered over her body, finally stopping on Targaryen's face, who stood behind her, watching every little move she made.

-What are you doing? - he asked in a tired but equally mature voice that was the opposite of Aegon.

-I'm looking - replied the young woman, not taking her sight off him, her mermaid eyes no longer hiding a shadow of pain or despair.

The man approached her cautiously, almost as if he were approaching a wounded animal. His large hand covered her smaller one, almost instantly taking the cold away from her, offering his warmth to her. His lips involuntarily pressed against her soft curls, kissing the top of her head.

Closing his eyes, he let the scent of lavender and wild rose hit him, so familiar to him , so soothing.

-Now tell me the truth - he whispered, waiting.

Y/n lowered her gaze, but her husband took her chin between his fingers, thus telling her not to run away, and she complied. Finding a feeling of peace in the purple irises she hated and adored so much.

-I wish I could turn back time, gods, I really wish... but I know I can't - she confessed after a long moment, filling the room with tension - They...they won't be back and I can't pretend that will change any longer. I have to move on, this world won't wait for me.

- I'll wait - said the blonde, aligning his eyes with her - I'll wait for you Y/n.

The woman felt how she melted under his gaze, how the walls crumbled and the ice cracked, how her heart began to beat again.

-I have to move forward not only for myself but also for the people who need me -I know I have to - she whispered, snuggling into his torso - For her - she added, almost silently.

Aegon thought he misheard, or it was just a voice in his head, something unreal. But it was very real, yet he couldn't believe it.

-For her? - he asked, no longer believing in what was real and what was an illusion.

-I didn't want to tell you, I didn't want to tell anyone - she replied, again stroking the material covering her body, the body in which life was growing again - I thought that if I kept it a secret, she would be safe, that nothing would happen to her.

-Nothing will happen to her, I promise you that she will be safe - her husband assured her, creating a cage around her with his arms, hiding her from everything that was outside - I promise you that I will not leave you, I will never leave you again.

Y/n believed him, no matter what their past was, she believed him. Because hope was born between them, their hope, their family hope.

And no one will take it from them. Never again.

[agent-barnes40]

The Pain

Set during "Three Eyes Between You"

After Alicent takes your eye

TW: Graphic descriptions of ocular injury, pain description, violence, medical talk

Special thanks to @tinfairies discord, without all of them, Ya'll wouldn't be getting this content.

Taglist: @velaena @poisonsage808

Aegon had to look away, hearing your pained grunts. He heard you trying to breathe through the pain, then saw your knife with a bleeding mass being tossed into the fire and he bolted to your side. He's ripping his shirt off and pressing it onto your bleeding socket. He's trying to comfort you and get you to calm down. "My love, I know it hurts. I know. I need you to breathe through your mouth." He's whispering, pushing away Rhaenyra and even his own father. He only lets the maesters get close to you before he rounds on Alicent. His eyes are alight with the Targaryen anger.

"You dare to maim my future betrothed! The only person who loves me, unconditionally. They do not judge me for the unholy acts I do. They will now be unloved by everyone but me!" Aegon snaps, his hands are gripped tightly, his own hands much like his lover's, mother's, and brother's hands are soaked and caked in blood.

"Oh, Aegon, they told me to do it," Alicent said, her eyes looking anywhere but at her eldest son. The young man knew he was stepping out of line when even Heleaena touched his shoulder. "You can scream and shout at Mother later, they need you." She whispered before Aegon turned, hurried over to you, and wrapped his hand around yours. "Are you alright my love? That's an idiotic question, You are not alright." You smiled weakly at the prince. "You had no need to defend me. The only love I need is yours, my prince."

Aemond had gripped your other hand, and Helaena had moved to the group, showing a wall of strength to the people surrounding the Velaryon and Targaryen households. You slowly stood up, shakily, and met Rhaenyra's eyes. "Īlon ūndegon ao hae iksā, mandia. Aōha trēsi issi se drīve bisa lentor iksis ezīmagon." You said, using Valyrian to make sure only family heard. We see you as you are, sister. Your sons are the reason this family is split.

Rhaenyra put an arm over her sons as if you were going to attack. "I won't hurt Lucerys or attempt to, I do not blame him for my eye. I will try to teach Aemond that, but I do not know how successful that will be. Teach your sons to think first."

"And Uncle, according to my younger brother, your daughters fought well. Maybe instead of leering at the heir, you could teach them to think first instead of act."

[br0kenangel]

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦.

Aegon was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his baby sister in front of him. She was propped up on a small cushion, her chubby hands grasping at the air as she babbled away happily, her violet eyes sparkling.

“Come on,” Aegon coaxed, his voice filled with determination as he leaned closer to her. “Say my name, alright? Say ‘Aegon.’ Aeeegon.”

The baby girl looked up at him, her expression curious. She blinked slowly, her little mouth forming a small “O” as she tried to mimic him. Aegon’s heart swelled with anticipation.

“Go on,” he encouraged, his smile widening. “Aeeegon.”

She opened her mouth and made a sound—a tiny, excited babble that was nowhere close to his name. “Da-da!” she exclaimed proudly, her face lighting up with a giggle.

Aegon’s smile faltered, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “No, not ‘da-da,’” he said, trying to keep his patience. “Aegon. Aaaeeeegon.”

But his sister only responded with more giggles, clearly finding her own attempts at speech much more amusing than her brother’s frustration. She clapped her hands together, delighted by the sound she’d made, and Aegon could only groan in response.

“Why won’t you say my name?” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He tried again, leaning in closer. “Aegon. Aaaeeegon.”

“Da-da!” she squealed again, this time louder, as if she were very pleased with herself.

Aegon’s frustration was starting to build, and he was about to try again when the door to the nursery creaked open. He glanced up to see Aemond standing there, his silver hair slightly tousled from whatever adventure he’d been on earlier. Aemond tilted his head, his one good eye curious as he took in the scene before him.

“What are you doing?” Aemond asked, his voice soft as he walked into the room.

Aegon quickly straightened up, a hint of embarrassment in his expression. “Nothing,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Just… trying to teach her something.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, he walked over and sat down in front of their sister, smiling at her with that rare, gentle look he only ever seemed to have around her. She immediately reached out to him, her chubby arms waving excitedly.

“Hello, little one,” Aemond said softly, his voice filled with warmth.

And then, to Aegon’s utter shock, their sister opened her mouth and made a sound—“Amon!” It wasn’t perfect, but it was unmistakably his name, in her own very baby way. She grinned widely, as if proud of herself.

Aemond’s eye widened in surprise, a look of pride spreading across his face as he turned to Aegon. “Did you hear that? She said my name!” he said, unable to hide the delight in his voice.

Aegon’s mouth fell open, disbelief written all over his face. “She said your name?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t quite believe it. He had been trying for ages, and here Aemond comes in and she says his name just like that?

Aemond nodded, a small, smug smile on his lips. “Looks like she likes me better,” he teased lightly.

Aegon’s initial shock quickly gave way to a pang of jealousy. Determined not to be outdone, he gently lifted his sister into his lap, turning her to face him directly. “Alright, now it’s my turn,” he said with renewed determination. “Say my name. Aegon. Aaaeeegon.”

But instead of trying to repeat him, she just looked up at him with wide eyes, and then—she burst into a fit of giggles. Aemond, still sitting beside them, joined in, chuckling at the whole situation.

Aegon’s shoulders slumped again, this time in defeat. He looked down, his earlier excitement draining away. “Why won’t you say my name?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I’m your brother too…”

Just as he was about to give up, he felt a tiny, soft hand patting his head. He looked up, and there she was, her little face full of concentration as she tried to mimic his name once more. “Ae—” she began, her voice tiny and halting. “Ae…gon.”

Aegon’s eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face as joy and pride flooded his chest. “You did it!” he exclaimed, his earlier sadness completely forgotten. “You said my name!”

Aemond watched the scene unfold, a gentle smile on his lips as he saw the happiness on Aegon’s face. He wasn’t jealous—he was just glad that their sister had finally said Aegon’s name, even if it took a little longer.

Their sister, clearly pleased with herself, clapped her hands again, giggling at the reaction she got from her brothers. Aegon, still beaming, looked at Aemond, and for a moment, they both just smiled at each other, all traces of their earlier rivalry gone.

In that moment, the three of them were just happy and content in each other’s company. The sound of their sister’s giggles filled the room, her tiny voice echoing with the names of her two big brothers—names.

Part 1 ♡ Part 3

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[quin-ns]

E = Explicit | * = Dark themes

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Knuckle Velvet (E*)

Summary: aegon is desperate for the love of the sister he truly wants, even if he has to take it

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

The Future is Now (E*)

Summary: aemond discovers plans for you to be wed in the near future are being made—and they don’t include him as your husband. he’s not happy about it, especially when you don’t protest

<< back to main masterlist

[dedicatednotobsessed]

The Silver Madame [Aegon Targaryen x Reader]

Series masterlist || Other HOTD stories

Summary: You are the second eldest child of King Viserys and Queen Alicent and from a young age you had always wanted freedom. You always thought you were never suited for the royal life and decided to run away at the age of ten-and-three. You had made your ways through the ranks and by the age of ten-and-six, you were the Madame of your own pleasure house. You thought you were away from your family and away from your worries, until your elder brother visits you….

TRIGGER WARNING: This is a story of incest (obviously, it’s Game of Thrones). It contains strong depictions of sexual content. Please read at your own risk.

Warnings in this chapter: It contains graphic depictions of sex. Please read at your own risk.

🔥Part One🔥

Gif does not belong to me 💚

Seventeen years old

You walked around your establishment, women pampering themselves and getting ready for the night. Part of you always wondered why they would waste their time doing so when most men came to your service. You were known as an exotic beauty for your silver hair, much like a true born Targaryen.

You never gave your real name, knowing well enough they would catch on rather quickly. The only one who knew you were the second eldest child to the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was the Madame that ran the establishment, who seemed to be getting on in her years. You only prayed the stranger would take the old bitch soon enough.

You wanted the position of Madame with the way men and women alike fawned over your beauty. You got paid well for your services and were quite talented in various areas.

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

You sighed softly looking through your small sack to make sure you only had the bare necessities. You were tired of the life you were living sheltered in the Keep walls. You wanted freedom, away from the duties of a princess.

You had also overheard your mother and father discussing a possible betrothal to your elder brother, Aegon. You never wanted to be a pawn in the royal life, including marrying someone for political purposes.

“I told you to leave me be,” You hissed hearing the door open. You turned not hearing a response and frowned seeing Aegon standing by the door.

“What are you doing?” Aegon asked quietly, looking over to see the sack laid out on the bed. “Are you going somewhere, Y/N?”

You glanced down and took a deep breath. You knew you could not lie to him even if you tried. “Yes, I am running away and never to return,” You replied, deciding to be honest.

Aegon chuckled a bit. “You can not be serious.”

“I am quite serious about my decision, Aegon,” You said with a frown.

Aegon’s smile faltered a bit as he walked closer. “You can not leave me here, my sweet sister.”

You scoffed a bit. “Do not pretend you care,” You mumbled glaring down at your sack.

“I do care,” He said taking your hand with a frown. “I thought you would never leave me.”

You yanked your hand away with narrowed eyes. “I am not believing your act one bit.”

“Where are you even going to go?”

“I do not know,” You admitted. “But perhaps we will meet again my dear brother.”

“The doors will be opening soon, you better make yourself presentable!” You heard the scratchy voice of the Madame holler through the halls.

You scoffed a bit, looking in your mirror. You furrowed your brows hearing some of the women gossiping.

“There have been rumors the crowned prince is to be coming tonight.”

“Why would he want to come to this establishment? Every man turns away seeing the skeleton greeting them.”

You shook your head a bit, looking down with a sigh. You have not seen any of your siblings in close to four years; you are sure they have forgotten about you already.

You stood up after a moment, heading to the greeting room and smiled lightly when the doors opened. You glanced around noticing other women trying to make themselves more desirable.

You rolled your eyes a bit, laughing as you walked over to a couch, lounging on it. As the night began, men and women alike came in, your Madame introducing each girl as though she was a prized mare. You tilted your head, a small smirk on your lips as you watched each woman take their customer back, but your smile faltered seeing a silver haired man walk in, pushing the hood off his cloak.

“Prince Aegon,” The Madame greeted with a small smirk, looking back. “I believe I have the perfect girl for you.”

You slowly stood up when the Madame motioned for you to come over and you clasped your hands in front of you, smiling at the Prince. You smirked at the disbelief on his face.

“It is good to see you again, brother,” You said taking his hand to lead him to your room. You couldn’t help but giggle at the jealous whispers from the other whores as you passed.

Aegon furrowed his brows walking over to the pitcher of wine and took a cup, pouring some wine into it.

“So, this is where you ran off to?” He asked turning to you, downing most of his drink.

You hummed in response, walking closer to your brother. You placed your hands on his chest and lightly pushed him onto your bed.

“We can catch up later,” You whispered with a small smirk.

Aegon opened his mouth but quickly closed it as you worked your silk dress down, tilting your head. You walked closer, helping him take off his cloak leaving him in a white tunic and his breeches and boots.

“No one can tell you are the prince of the Seven Kingdoms,” You teased with a small smirk as you go on your knees.

Aegon chuckled a bit. “It is easier to slip the clothes off.”

You laughed a bit while taking off his boots and began to slowly pull his breeches down, leaving him in his tunic.

“Even if I am your sister, your cock still swells,” You said softly as you placed a hand on his inner thigh.

You leaned down, lightly trailing kisses along his cock before you reached the tip. You lightly licked it before fully wrapping your mouth around it. Aegon groaned a bit, tilting his head back as you continued to suck, licking as you went.

You slowly pulled back and crawled on top of him, smirking down at him. “I am not just good with my mouth, brother,” You purred while helping him with his tunic off.

“Is that so?” Aegon asked grabbing you by the hips while you positioned yourself.

You nodded, placing your hands on his bare chest. “I am quite good with my hands, you see,” You whispered as you let him inside of you.

Aegon smirked a bit as he watched you, his hips grinding against yours. He was not used to a woman being the one on top. “Really now, my sweet sister?”

You nodded, a moan leaving your lips as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside of you before he began to thrust. You tilted your head back, bouncing on him as he went fast and hard.

Aegon leaned up his mouth wrapping around your left nipple, his hand fondling your other breast, grunting the further he went. You knew this was your elder brother and you knew he more than likely had disdain towards you still for leaving, yet in this moment none of it even mattered it seemed.

The faster he went though, the louder your moans became. More often than not, you faked your moans for clients, however this was different.

Aegon slowly released from your nipple, gripping your hips tight as his thrusts got faster, his breath coming into short pants.

You leaned down, leaning your head against his, your fingers tangling into his silver hair as your breath began to labor, letting out a satisfied moan when the two of you reached your limit.

You tried to collect your breath, laughing as you fell next to Aegon, smirking over at him.

“So,” Aegon began, breathlessly. “Would you be able to show me what your hands can do, my sweet one?”

You laughed and smirked, your hands trailing along his chest. “Possibly if you come back to me,” You responded with a wink.

[vaokses]

I shall be (Pirtir, Ch.3)

Series Masterlist

<< Previous chapter

Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: After what you're certain has been the longest dinner you have ever endured, you prepare to retire for bed. You must face the consequence of a secret you once shared when there's a knock on the secret door of your apartments.

Word Count: 5.4k (sorry 😔)

Warnings: Topic of arranged/forced marriage. Usual Targaryen incest stuff.

A/N: This makes a tad more sense if you've read the prologue on Aegon's PoV, "How long this love can hold its breath". I hope you enjoy, and I would love to hear your thoughts on this!

Title is from "I never again shall tell you what I think. I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly", by Edna St. Vincent Millay.

After Helaena leaves you by your apartments, you enter and dismiss your handmaidens, unwilling to stand another moment of scrutiny, of performance. They have left the hearth lit and you set out to undo your hair slowly, trying not to remember the last time you stood in this room, sitting by this very hearth as your mother explained to you how you weren’t safe here anymore, how you had no choice but to leave. 

It somehow makes the truth of what awaits you more real, that these are the rooms they have decided to assign to you. It makes all of this, the reality of what has happened and what will, more solid, more tangible. 

Your thoughts are interrupted, as are your actions, by the faintest clicking sound, as if something is knocking quietly on glass.

You have only recently learned of the secrets of the Keep, after listening too many times to your mother and father reminisce about their encounters over the years, between Daemon’s exiles and wars and returns. You only recently learned of the hidden door in the middle glass window behind the bed, the one where someone is knocking softly right now. 

With an impulse so stupid you would believe it beneath you, you approach the door, and quietly open it. 

On the other side, the deserted ramparts of the Keep at his back, stands Aegon. When you open the door fully, he offers a small smile, somewhere between daring and apprehensive. A familiar smile. 

Your eyes widen, and your next words leave your lips in a hiss, “What are you doing!?” 

He shrugs, “I was knocking like an idiot here for a while, whe-…?” 

Before he can finish his answer, you have reached for him, fingers grasping at the sleeve of his shirt and pulling him inside before anyone can see him standing at the hour of ghosts outside your rooms.

You step back, startled and confused -and, most of all perhaps, affronted at your own choice, at your own carelessness-, and for a few breaths you seem to merely stare at one another, perhaps equally surprised at finding yourselves here. 

You find yourself uncertain on how to move, how to play. Any mask you might find useful to wear now wouldn’t have opened the damn door, wouldn’t have participated in this foolish risk by allowing Aegon to enter you rooms. 

A reminder, perhaps to yourself and not him, and you voice, “You shouldn’t be here.” 

“I believe I should be saying that,” He comments, defiant glint in his eye, lips pressed into a thin line. “You traveled to every city but this one, visited the seat of every family but this one, in these past two years. I assumed you had decided you would only return to King’s Landing to lay waste to it.” 

You aren’t sure why it is he feels he has any right to reproach you for not visiting, or why it is you feel the need to defend yourself, explain the reason behind your absence all these years. 

“I traveled only to where I was welcomed.” 

If he knows you’re lying, which you doubt, for you doubt he ever cared enough to ask if you were extended an invitation from the Keep, he makes no mention of it.  

Silence lingers, and though you know you should ask him why he’s here, tell him to leave, summon the guards, you say nothing. Instead, for what feels like the first time since you arrived, you look at him. 

Stupidly, the first thought that comes into your mind, and the one that lingers, that brings to the tip of your tongue questions you know better than to ask, that fills you with the reckless impulse to want to know the story behind it -and each story you’ve missed out on-, is that his hair is shorter. 

“We are to be married,” Aegon says. You take a deep breath, and find that you cannot release it. You nod your head instead, wordless. “Have they told you why they agreed to it? My mother, my grandsire?” 

“The King, no matter the…state of his body or spirit, can overrule his wife and his Hand.” 

“You know it was not my father’s doing. As…happy he seems to be that you would dare resign yourself to a man like me, he didn’t arrange this.” 

Years ago, you might have offered an apology he won’t hear from those he deserves it from, you might have crossed the distance between you, you might have offered comfort. Years ago, you might have not turned a blind eye, you might have not looked away. 

You turn towards one of the shelves by the hearth -strange, how you still remember it is this wall that first illuminates when the sun rises-, and grab the napkin dragon Helaena gifted you from a nearby table and place it upon the shelf. 

Turning back around, you answer the previous question, you offer a safe answer, 

“No one tells me much of anything, so I’m afraid I don’t know their reasons. But I could venture a guess.” 

A truer answer would be that love for a daughter doomed the Greens, while a daughter’s love granted victory to the Blacks. That in refusing to marry Helaena either to Aegon -to give him heirs, to secure his claim as your mother secured hers- or to someone else -a royal womb, a wife in exchange for an army, for another House sworn to their cause-, Alicent accepted defeat. That in betraying who you were -who you might have been- to allow for the most useful lie to wear your face as if truth, in chasing that safety you believed you would achieve by turning the Realm to your cause, you helped Rhaenyra win her war. 

Aegon turns his head to look at the dimming flames of the hearth, a furrow between his brows. 

“They refused before.” 

“Helaena would have been sent to Driftmark were she to marry Jace, y-…” 

“I don’t mean them,” He interrupts. He doesn’t look at you still, finding the dying embers apparently fascinating. His hands twitch, much like his sister’s did before, opening and closing, as if needing to release nervous energy. “I mean you and me. I asked, my mother refused.” 

Your stomach does a strange flip, as it does when Vermithor makes a vertical ascent into the clouds. No, not quite like that. It feels more like when he just narrowly avoids a crash against a cliff face when speeding through the clouds over the Stormlands. It feels like that faint moment when Vermithor loses his footing on unstable ground and fails to land. 

“What? When?” 

“After you left,” He replies. He ventures to look at you, only briefly, and at your questioning look Aegon shrugs and explains, “You wanted to stay.” 

That isn’t the explanation he seems to think it is, but doesn’t seem inclined to clarify any further. And you aren’t sure you want him to, because an echo of a promise you once made -when you were younger, and the world was smaller- is getting louder. 

Instead of asking anything else, you remind him, and yourself, of the war that loomed over this family.  

“When we left, Aemond didn’t have Vhagar, and my bond with Vermithor was too new. Now…there haven’t been so many grown dragons with riders since King Jaehaerys’ reign,” You point out. “Your mother understands now, as I hope the rest do, that if a war for the Iron Throne is to be waged, there will be naught but ash and charred stone to rule over once it’s won. Destruction is assured, mutual destruction.” 

“And you are here as…what? A sacrificial lamb to prevent bloodshed?” 

You look at him, and with more impulsivity than you should allow yourself, you answer plainly, 

“Baaa,” Dumbfounded, Aegon blinks, once, twice, before a smile lights up his expression. His shoulders shake lightly with laughter, and you find yourself smiling in kind. And relentless, like a weed you couldn’t pull from its root and now regrows, is that impulse from your youth, that familiar warmth in your chest and in your cheeks at being the one to make him laugh. “I gather it depends on who you ask. I’m sure many would see me a herald of doom and not a sacrificial goat.” 

“Lamb,” He corrects, pointlessly, aimlessly. Silence lingers, and a few breaths after, he presses, “Is that why you are here, then? For…for the future of the family? You didn’t want to leave in the first place. I thought…” 

When it seems he cares not to continue his sentence, you clarify, 

“It was once my home, it’s true, but I…no longer recognize it,” You admit, with more honesty than you should allow yourself, perhaps. From your window you can see the Dragonpit. When you were children you would go there so often, and though the trip had to be made on carriage, in between jests and games, or sleeping in your mother’s lap, it seemed such a quick trip, such a short distance. “It all seemed so much smaller, before. Easier.” 

You shake yourself from this foolish nostalgia, and return your attention to the present, to the inside of this room. You return your attention, and your gaze, to Aegon, who still stands there, almost awkwardly, in the middle of the room. 

“Wine?” He asks, faintly moving back and forth on the balls of his feet, a jarringly nervous, almost childish, gesture. You do not understand the part of you that finds it endearing. 

“No, thank you.” 

“I would like some.” He states, but makes no move to pour himself a glass. Instead, he merely looks at you, expectant, eyebrows raised and smile a taunt. 

With a deep breath, refusing to let him anger you as easily as he would when you were younger, you acquiesce, and turn your back to pour him a cup of wine. 

“I-…They told me you wanted me,” Aegon confesses, the last two words stumbling on an eager tongue. You keep your attention on pouring the wine, and keep your back turned to him, somehow knowing it is while you aren’t looking that he speaks freely. “I was told you chose me.” 

You finish pouring a cup -and one for yourself, for you gather this won’t be an easy conversation-, and turn to face him. Aegon stands tall, head held high, and yet you look at him and think only of someone trying to hide, itching to curl in on themselves, make themselves smaller. 

His expression struggles for the same control he demands from his body, eyes guarded, jaw set tight.  

Not unlike the first time you approached Vermithor, you find yourself waiting for his next move, awaiting a signal to follow, an opening for you to act. 

And yet he doesn’t move. You aren’t sure if he is expecting you to, but regardless, you follow his example and hold your ground. Extending your arm, you offer the drink, but he makes no move to accept it. 

“Was it a lie?” Aegon asks, quietly. 

Something within you is begging you to admit the truth, to say yes. A part of you wishes to risk ruin the very purpose you serve being here, bring forth further division if you must; if that means getting to start the life that begins once you marry with no lies, with your true face. 

But you have been a liar far longer than you have been anything else. You weren’t allowed to train with a sword and shield, you have been sent to roam unfamiliar halls and live with unfamiliar faces, you have been parted from your protector as Vermithor retreats to the outskirts of the city. You are alone, with no weapon and no dragon. 

You have nothing but teeth and nails and lies, and you have no choice but to put them to use. 

“No, it was not a lie,” You tell him, and the surprise he doesn’t bother to hide, the flickering vulnerability you doubt he could hide even if he wanted, that part his lips for a breath and bring a momentary tremble to this brow; they make that part of you wish to offer an apology. The closest you can offer to one is a half-truth, “If I am to marry, I would have it be you I take as a husband.” 

And in the blink of an eye, Aegon retreats, cautious again. It feels entirely too close to failure, to deficiency, to let him take from you your advantage like this, because you let a face you don’t wear any longer decide on the words to leave your lips. 

Petulant, he corrects, “That isn’t what I asked.” 

And now he does approach, taking the goblet from your outstretched hand and downing half the wine in one gulp. You follow him with your gaze as he walks past you to sit in one of the lounges by the hearth. 

“Is it not enough?” 

He answers with a smile, somewhere between bitter and resigned. The smile hasn’t yet fully curved at his lips when it has already fallen leaving in place an expression torn somewhere between uncertainty and a reckless kind of longing. 

You are a Velaryon in name alone, this everyone knows. You are not salt and sea, but even you know the mightiest of vessels can be brought down to the depths by a single crack, a single leak -a single leak, that allows the ocean a way in, a way to reclaim what it deems hers-. Perhaps that is why it is so easy for you then, to take a step back, the beginnings of a frown furrowing at your brow, the faintest movement of your head as you deny his unspoken admission, as you refuse hearing the ever-louder echo of a past long gone. 

You were barely more than children, with no understanding of the world or what it would ask of you -of either of you-, when you made the foolish promises you did. It was a folly of youth, and while nostalgia does often cloud your gaze and leaves a faint stinging in your eyes in its wake, you understand, as he should, as he must, that that is all it was. 

But doubt creeps in, saltwater through a crack in the hull of a ship, for you understand now, that whatever you had and forsaken, whatever you have made yourself forget, Aegon has kept, and remembered. 

How could he, after all this time? How dare he, after all that has and all that hasn’t happened? 

You once were naïve enough to think love might prevail over war, but you knew nothing of either. Now, you know better, now you see things as they are, as they were. 

And still, something like regret pulls at your chest, something like a dead hope digs under your skin. Foolish, reckless. You tell yourself to take another step back, but you cannot move. 

But before you can forget yourself, before you let echoes guide your actions or your voice, Aegon turns away, a humorless and quiet chuckle leaving his lips, his gaze for a moment falling to the cup of wine in his hand before gazing upon the quiet flames of the hearth. 

“It is preferable to the alternative, I suppose. My mother wouldn’t forgive me if they had to have my betrothed dragged to the Sept against her will.” 

What is expected, what is needed to get the upper hand, is to offer comfort, empty if it must be, that no woman would have to be forced into a marriage with a Targaryen Prince such as him, that the mere idea of a woman not being delighted to be his wife seems impossible to you. A lie, a false promise, anything. 

And yet you cannot speak, you cannot move. You will tell yourself later that you were observing, as Lady Mysaria so often reminds you to do while at court. 

As if by instinct, an instinct older than your oldest one -you feel robbed of all you learned since you left this place, for a moment, stripped of every instinct your exile imposed upon you and every mask you learned to wear since leaving-, you recite a lesson,  

“Betrothals are sacred, in the eyes of any of the Gods. Any daughter, any loyal daughter, would sooner die than dishonor one.” 

A groan answers your words, mocking. 

“Don’t you tire of it?” Aegon asks, drawing you away from your own thoughts that seem intent on chasing themselves in circles. His head tilts to the side as he considers you and your silence, before he answers his own question with a humorless scoff. “But there’s no reason you would, really. It has always come easy to you, you just-…it’s easy for you.” 

“What is?” 

“Perfection,” He blurts out, before shrugging one shoulder defensively. He takes yet another sip of wine, and seems to laugh at a joke only he hears before he says, “The Realm’s Delight’s first and only daughter, as Valyrian as the ones in the histories. Rider of a dragon second only to Vhagar. So famed for your grace and beauty you might as well be the Maiden herself.” 

Your brow furrows and your eyes narrow. 

“Is this your attempt at an insult?” 

“In all these years, not one story about a mistake. Not once I heard about you stepping out of line.” 

“Court gossip rarely cares about daughters. I was never relevant enough to be gossiped about.” 

“You are your mother’s heir. If she ascends the throne, you are to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms after her,” He insists, lifting a finger off the goblet to aim it in your direction in accusation. At your answering silence, Aegon smiles, humorless and a tad mad, and after a sip from his drink starts again, “If she doesn’t, you still might be, now that you are to be my wife.” 

“You speak of treas-…” 

He interrupts you with an exasperated groan, letting his head lull backwards on the chair.  

“Oh, don’t start. You shouldn’t take me seriously,” He advises, lifting the cup in a mock toast to his self-pity before adding, “No one does.” 

“Yet many would have you and not my mother sit the Iron Throne.” You admit, not thinking twice about walking to the hearth and taking the seat by his.  

In your mind lingers the thought, the reprimand, that you should know better than to do this, to say this. With lies and charm you’ve learned over time to loosen people’s defenses, to bring forth truth from them, and it does not surprise you that Aegon makes it frighteningly easy, still driven by a reckless kind of honestly -or a helpless one perhaps, truths escaping him like sand between his fingers-, still leaving himself exposed. And you should know better than to allow him to bring forth in you the same kind of carelessness. 

You keep your attention on the flickering flames, and notice out of the corner of your eye that he has seemed to move closer and is watching you with some strange glint in his eyes. You turn your head to look at him, a question written in your own gaze. 

He motions you closer, as if about to tell you a secret, and foolishly, you oblige. 

“It’s because my cock is bigger than your mother’s.” 

You lean back with a scoff that he only grins at. That, that is entirely becoming of the boy you remember from your youth. 

“By the Gods.” You mutter, false disgust attempting to mask something childish, something like laughter. He leans back, stupidly proud at having caught you off-guard, and you furrow your lips to hide a smile. 

“You still make the same face when you get ruffled.” 

“I do not get ruffled,” You argue, “I am merely appalled at your…your vulgarity.” 

He shrugs. 

“You let me in.” 

“I-…shut up.” 

He laughs again, and you shake your head, looking away. 

“Do you wish for me to leave?” He asks, and something gives you certainty that he will obey if you say you do. Which you should, for it is beyond inappropriate for a maiden to allow a man into her private apartments, not to mention unbecoming of your mother’s heir to wish for the company of the largest threat to her claim. 

You cannot tell the truth, duty binds your lips with precise stitching; but you cannot lie, for in the quiet of it all the world seems smaller again, easier to handle. 

And for those few breaths of silence, you think this is the most honest you’ve been tonight. 

When you first arrived in Dragonstone, it was to you as wild and foreign as it must have been for your ancestors when they first reached the island; and like them, you too were escaping, fleeing from what you were promised was certain doom. 

You were asked to call that place home, and yet you were not taught the layout of the castle or its surroundings, you were not taken sailing between Dragonstone and Driftmark by Laenor as your brothers were, you were not shown the path into the Dragonmont and into Vermithor’s lair, no. You were asked to call that place home, but Lady Mysaria sat with you on that balcony that looks in the direction of King’s Landing -on that same spot where you said goodbye to her a mere day ago-, and she told you that a home is a lie and a heart a shackle, and she promised to teach you to survive as a woman in a world of men. 

You were taught to lie, to mask what you felt and what you thought, and to offer instead of the truth what was most agreeable, most useful. It was an easy lesson to assimilate, almost an instinct you were merely reminded of and not taught, and you dread to think of what that makes of you. 

What was most useful then, what kept you safe then, what was needed from you then, was being a loyal daughter, with no ties to anywhere beyond her mother’s home, with no bond to anyone beyond the safety of her family. And so that is what you became. 

You made yourself forget the world and the life that was before, the girl you adored and the boy that in another life you might have loved. More importantly, perhaps, you made yourself forget what could have been, what would never be. 

You could not, not entirely, because there’s a box of dead bugs in your room that you meant to send to Helaena and yet you never did, and there’s a feeling you weren’t allowed to voice but you couldn’t swallow, and so some words remained stuck in your throat for over three years; but you tried. 

You tried, you tried with everything that you are to forget about it all, to believe the tales you told others about the fickleness of youth, but now you’re back here and memories are not so easy to push away -and there’s a napkin dragon in your shelf and warmth in your chest as you sit beside Aegon-, and the words unsaid tighten your throat at each lie you attempt to tell, each mask you attempt to wear. 

But there’s safety in the lies, in the masks. Anywhere in the world, be it Dragonstone or the seat of some House or another, you can wear a mask. Anywhere in the world, alone or surrounded, you can protect yourself with lies. 

And you cling to them, even now, especially now. 

“I-…you should leave,” You say, but then remind yourself that there is no room for mistakes. For half-truths, or half-lies. So you correct yourself, “I want you to leave.” 

To your surprise, and to the dismay of a part of you the long night and the even longer absence make difficult to force down now, he obeys. 

___ 

It is only you, the Queen, and her handmaidens in the room as you sit together for tea, and you are eyeing the window behind her as Alicent attempts to entertain you with talk about the wedding preparations. That the guests from the Reach are to arrive earlier than expected, that the Lord Hand has called for a septon from Oldtown to perform the rites, that the eldest son of Lord Tyrell has sent you a crate of hippocras as a betrothal gift. 

You can only sit in silence and listen, listen and linger in the realization, horrifying and painful, that these celebrations are months in the planning. The realization that while you were travelling the realm in service of your House and your mother, foolishly believing you were free to choose a husband or not choose one at all, your choices were being stolen from you. 

“I was younger than you when I married,” The Queen comments. “I would have never imagined you would remain unmarried for so long.” 

You care not for polite conversation, nor any games. With a deep breath, you finally take your eyes off that window and blurt out,  

“You advised me and Helaena, when we were children, that if the men were to ever come to take us away, we should ask our dragons to unleash dragonfire on them, or on ourselves,” There’s something quite close to horror in her expression, in her widened eyes and parted lips, when she looks upon you. “Does it truly surprise you, that we understand the…the gravity of marriage?” 

The Queen is quiet for a few breaths, returning her attention to her plate and busying herself and her hands by cutting open a biscuit. The silence is starting to become uncomfortable when the Queen clears her throat and speaks again, voice tight, hoarse, “You remember.” 

“Should I not, Your Grace?” 

She scarred you, with her grief, her grief for two girls that weren’t yet dead, that hadn’t gotten yet a chance to be alive. She scarred you and in doing so she taught you; she taught you much more than your mother ever could.  

Many times, Rhaenyra spoke with you about the life and death of her mother, and what fear she had for motherhood, how it was for many years a death sentence in her eyes. But her admissions were always followed by a soft, loving smile, by her hand grasping at yours, and the promise that her fears pale in the love she has for you and your brothers. 

Alicent never made such promises, such assurances. 

“I was…not myself. You needn’t heed the advice I gave that night.” 

She was drunk, and tired, and angry; but neither of those things made her any less herself, nor her words any less honest. Of course, she won’t admit that.  

You want to call her out on her lie, for you remember that night, and you remember well. You remember that when you told her you had no dragon, for Vermithor was still asleep and unknown to you and the egg placed in your cradle never hatched, Alicent merely looked at you with rage and sorrow over a decade old and replied, neither did I.  

You were children, you were foolish and naïve children, and the next morning Helaena asked for you to accompany her to the Dragonpit, and tried to explain to Dreamfyre why she had to obey you if you ever came to her and commanded dracarys. 

“It was advice I valued then and now.” You admit, finding her gaze and offering the faintest of smiles. 

“It…gladdens me to hear that then, Princess.” 

“Advice my aunt must value as well, for she remains unmarried.” 

It is a provocation, and a careless one at that. You knew that before you voiced it, but you trusted the Queen not to falter. And she does not disappoint. 

She drops the knife, and the noise of it hitting the plate rings in your ears. For a moment gone as quickly as it began, as if a compulsion she has tried to bury, the Queen lets her nails dig at the skin of her thumbs. 

“I resented my husband, for many years, for allowing his daughter the liberties he did, for turning a blind eye the way he did,” She admits, and there’s that tone in her voice again, the tone of that night, tangled in anger and helplessness and regret. Now there’s shame, in the bow of her head, in the restless movements of her fingers. “And yet…my girl, I couldn’t-…” 

“I would venture to guess many have vied for her hand in these passing years?” 

“My father would have her married and shipped off somewhere far in exchange for an alliance, but…she wishes not to,” She looks at you then, lifts her warm gaze to yours. You’ve seen that look in your mother’s eyes before, you’ve seen it in Mysaria’s, in Rhaenys’. You realize now, with horrifying certainty, how fortunate you are that you haven’t seen that look in Baela’s or Rhaena’s eyes, or in Helaena’s. Alicent gestures with her hand aimlessly, to the nothing and the everything around you. “What use is there for all this, for any of it, if I cannot protect her?” 

“I cannot speak on a mother’s duty or choices,” You say, and though you wish it would, it is not a mask like the one you presented to your grandsire last night, telling him what he wants to hear while you grit your teeth at what leaves your lips, no. It is the closest to truth you can offer. “But I am very glad to see her contented, happy even.” 

The closest to truth you can offer, without revealing something wrong, something rotten. Like envy, like jealousy. 

But you gather the Queen hears it regardless, for she sighs, and adds, “Which she achieved by remaining unmarried.” 

You hear the words she doesn’t say, you see something like regret in her warm eyes, and stupidly, some part of you still the child that brought a sweet pastry to the Queen after finding her heaving panicked breaths and paler than a ghost, you want to reassure her, to accept the apology she doesn’t voice. 

But Alicent starts again, composed again, distant again, 

“You are a woman grown now. I trust in time you will learn to…handle Aegon, guide him. You must a-…” 

You know where this is going. You just want one conversation where you aren’t asked to do something for someone, where you aren’t reminded of what is expected from you. One. 

You stand from the table with a scoff, walking away and towards the window, “I am not a shepherd, and your son no sheep.” 

“I only mean to help you.” 

“I do not recall asking for help, Your Grace.” 

The Queen joins her hands before her, head held high, back straight. A picture of a woman’s role, a woman’s duty. You look away and instead look out the window. 

“You valued advice I gave before, and I ask you to do so again. I only mean to make this easier for you, child.” 

She doesn’t wait for an answer and knows better than to press for one. Instead she murmurs your title and your name as a goodbye, not waiting for a returned goodbye of Your Grace or a gesture of your own, before turning around and moving to leave the room. 

“You lied to him,” You blurt out, an accusation you are risking much if it ends up being wrong. When the Queen turns to look at you, you force yourself to hold your place, force your hands to remain in place even when you want to cross your arms, force your eyes to look at her even though a part of you fears her. You push on, “You told Aegon I wanted to marry him.” 

Alicent takes a breath, and says nothing for a few beats, expression carefully flat as she regards you. 

“Did you admit to him that it was a lie?” 

“No.” 

The only give she allows is the slight widening of her eyes, surprise but not quite. A breath, two, and the Queen bows her head in goodbye again, though now at her lips curves a smile. Sad, as all her smiles are, but a little defiant also. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!

Though she admitted a little bit to what her stance in regards to the marriage is, the aspect of the lying and especially the lie about choosing him are still the point of this story, and will develop further in the upcoming chapters.

Next Chapter >>

Taglist: @21-princess @mrs-starkgaryen @nymeriiiia

[starogeorgina]

𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝

The king's queen and hand

Paring: Aegon ii Targaryen × reader × Criston Cole

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Leaning back on the golden plush pillows that were neatly set up on the top of your king-sized bed, noises of pleasure leave you as Cristion starts kissing your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you smile at your husband, who was sitting on a chair beside the bed, his eyes wide with lust as he palms at his cock over his trousers.

A squeal when Criston nips at your nipple,“Oh.”

His lips trace against your rib cage and your stomach. He reaches the sensitive spot just above your navel and sucks a bruise onto your fresh. Criston often left those marks on the inside of your thighs, it was his way of trying to claim a part of you. Criston had become infatuated with you, or ‘cunt drunk’ as your husband put it. As per your husband's orders, the kings hand took his duty of satisfying the queen seriously. He took advantage of any opportunity he got and fill you with his tongue and fingers, but no matter how much you wanted it he never put his cock in, unless Aegon told him to.

“Stop.” Aegon suddenly gets to his feet just as Criston reaches your hip bone. “Lay on your back, Cole.”

You pout, unimpressed. Aegon kneels on the edge of the bed, firmly grips your jaw with his hand, and plants a feverish kiss against your lips. He pulls back and pecks the corner of your mouth. “Sit on his face.”

As you straddle the knight's face, your fingers entwine in his thick hair, and you lean forward, engaging in the intimate act. The knight's tongue delves deeper into your core, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. He explores every inch of your cunt, tasting the wetness that has already gathered between your legs. His tongue delves deeper, while his nose brushes against your clit.

Argon’s traces a finger down the curve of your spine while fitting as much of your breast into his mouth, sucking roughly.

Being touched in so many places sends a thrilling yet overwhelming sensation through your body, and before long, you feel an orgasm building within you, and it doesn't take long for you to cum over the knight's face. Aegon lays down beside the knight and taps at his meaty thigh, signaling for you to climb onto his lap.

You hook a leg on either side of his hips, and you moan, feeling Aegon’s hardness between your folds. Once his cock is coated in your wetness, you sink down on him, and moans of pleasure escape your mouth. Aegon slowly thrusts into you while wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down so your ass is sticking up and your head is leaning against his chest. “You’ve been aching for cock all day, haven’t you?”

“Hmm, yes! I’ve wanted to feel you inside me all day.”

“Oh, my little queen loves nothing more than her cunny being stuffed.”

Criston moves so he’s kneeling behind you and begins groping your ass, watching as your husband's cock disappears inside you. Aegon’s thrusts quicken, then without warning he pulls out of you. You whine at the feeling of being empty, but Criston pushes his cock into your cunny. He thrusts inside you for a short time, then pulls out, and Aegon slides back inside you. They continue to take turns pounding into your sensitive cunny until Criston spills his seed inside you. As soon as the knight pulls out, Aegon thrusts back into you.

“You’re so spoiled, not only getting your husband's cock but your knights as well.”

"Fuck! Next time, I want you to take me at the same time."

It doesn’t take him long to cum as well; his head collapses back onto the pillow. You rest against his soft body while catching your breath.

Criston kisses your cheek, then whispers in your ear, “My queen, you are the forbidden fruit I cannot stop tasting.”

Aegon playfully pinches your bottom, “We’re going to need to get sheets changed. You’ve drenched them.”

[leviathanspain]

you’ll learn to hate me

aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

chapter nine: run until you feel your lungs bleeding

synopsis: aemond makes a reappearance, hoping to win you back, but years have passed, and you have nothing more to say to him

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

aegons arms were wrapped around your waist as the sun hit your face. you groaned at the light in your eyes, which soon awoke aegon next to you. he moaned slightly, burying his face in your shoulder, you felt something against your back.

you laughed to yourself, turning around, aegon awoke groggily, “my king,” you cooed, running a hand down his hair, you tucked a lock behind his ear, kissing his cheek. aegon giggled slightly as you caressed him, moving a hand down the blankets and towards his rock hard cock. he moaned slightly as you grabbed it, “you are insatiable.” he murmured, and you shrugged, scooting down the blankets until your lips brushed the tip of his cock.

he hissed, just as your tongue dragged over the slit, saltiness hitting your tastebuds, you dove in, taking him in your mouth.

aegon groaned with the feeling, panting slightly. his eyes were still dull with sleep, his face still puffy but the feeling of your mouth on his cock had him loudly voicing his pleasure.

you suck hard, knowing just how he liked it. you yourself was already wet, the feeling of your arousal was dripping down your leg as you sucked your husband off. aegon couldn’t last in the mornings, and so with a few minutes, he was already moaning as he came, his cock pumping its cum into your mouth.

aegon peeled back the blanket just as you crawled back up. a smile on your face, he wiped his cum from your mouth with a finger, dragging you up for a kiss.

you moaned slightly, rubbing yourself on him, and aegon raised an eyebrow, “cant seem to get enough of me, can you?”

you shook your head, and he dragged the nightgown up, your bare cunt was already hovering over him, and with a little bit of patience, you maneuvered yourself on him.

the feeling of his cock filling you up was incredible. you moaned loudly, and aegon threw his head back as you began to bounce on top of him. your breasts moved within the constraints of your nightgown and one of his hands reached up to grab you. you groaned as he squeezed one, the pressure from breastfeeding had made them full and sore.

“what’s wrong?” aegon asked as he pulled his hand away, but you shook your head, “i’m full with milk. it’s fine.” you told him, now moving at a slower pace of riding him.

aegon pulled your face towards his and kissed you, as you bounced even more, getting a better angle.

alicent had seen his dragon before she ever saw him. and as he neared the red keep, she could see him sitting atop the massive dragon, and she felt that overwhelming force to cry in her chest, that she pushed down with a heavy smile.

aemond was home.

the doors to your chambers were thrown open, and a guard with alicent stepped in. criston averted his eyes immediately as he saw the two of you, you naked and riding aegon, and aegon gripping your waist.

alicent didn’t bother looking away, instead she was more disappointed that it was this early and already you two were at it.

“don’t stop on my account, but i wanted to let you know that your brother is home. finally, aemond has returned.” she bore a look at you, gazing down at you with disgust before she ushered ser criston and herself out of the room.

aegon looked surprised, and you didn’t know what you felt. shock maybe, or sadness? or curiosity? it was a mix of things, and fucking aegon would not help you think.

you got off of aegon, and aegon exhaled with annoyance, “couldn’t we finish before going down there and seeing my brother?” you shrugged, “if you want to?” maybe this was where you needed to be. in thralls with aegon rather than seeing aemond.

aegon sat up, and pushed you down onto the bed, and you giggled slightly as he teased you.

aemond could hear them from the throne room. from what he had remembered, the room in which the king and queen slept in was not far from the receiving room that held the iron throne, so their giggles and moans echoed into the room.

alicent cleared her throat, “they’ll be down soon, hmm?” she nudged ser criston, and he nodded, taking the silent command to retrieve the king and queen.

aemond shook his head, “it’s no rush. let them finish, i’d rather them be happy than annoyed, yes?” alicent laughed awkwardly, and instead stayed silent, taking in the cold breath that was her son.

aegon helped you shuck on a random dress, before you pinned your hair with a simple handmade clip. aegon himself was dressed in a bit of casual clothes, after ser criston had informed them to put a rush on things, aegon had decided to look slightly unpresentable.

he opened the door and you rushed out, aegon hot on your heels as you two went to the throne room.

the air was cool as the door was pushed open, your hair lifted slightly as you walked in. aegon walked to the iron throne, grabbing your hand to follow him, you shook your head, and instead opted to stand near alicent, your hands folded together in front of your dress.

and that’s when you saw him. he had been quiet the entire time you had entered so you nearly forgot he was there but looking at him now made you realize that nothing had changed. only the maturity had given him a gaunt look about him, but the same scar and permanent smirk was there.

“brother. y/n.” his voice was cool, older, and yet it still gave you chills down your back.

aegon nodded, “aemond. what brings you back?”

just as aemond was about to answer, the doors opened once more and four blonde haired children ran in, another being carried in the arms of a nursemaid.

your youngest squealed at the sight of you, and you held your arms out to hold the babe, while the other children excitedly ran to your legs.

they all had seen aegon, but none approached the throne, knowing from infancy that the iron throne was never to be touched, let alone approached.

aegon gave you a smile as you handled the rowdy children. you snapped your fingers and they all quieted, sitting down at your feet.

aemond’s face was unreadable as he looked at you. looked at the children sharing their faces with aegon. “what a wonderful family.” he commented. all the children were close in age, all blonde and purple eyed. a child for every year he was gone, typical aegon.

aegon didn’t say anything to his comment, and instead raised his eyebrows. aemond laughed slightly, “i’ve come home. the world has given me experience and culture and now…”

you knew that standing on the sidelines wasn’t going to work out in your favor. you knew the rumors, that he had defected to your mothers side, that he had been plotting with her, and had come to cut aegon down.

as the thoughts rushed through your head, you felt your child begin to cry in your arms, and you sighed slightly. you rounded the children up and began to walk, “wave goodbye to your father.”

all the children waved to aegon, except the eldest boy, who didn’t wave, but instead share a glance with aemond.

you walked to the nursery and dropped baby maegor off. normally you would’ve carried him the rest of the day, but the ordeal with aemond was already carrying its toll on your mind.

the rest of your children, aenys, rhaegar, maella and elael had been taken by their septas for their lessons. but before they had been taken, you kissed all your children on their foreheads. aenys had stopped before walking to his septa, and instead tugged on your hand, “mama, who was that man? was that the same man that visits me?” you raised an eyebrow, “when has he visited you?”

aenys shrugged, “he brings me gifts. says he’s my papa.” you gulped, and shook your head, “don’t listen to that man, aenys. go to your lessons, now.” you walked the five year old to his septa, watching him carefully.

as you began to walk back, you stopped in the gardens to collect your thoughts, and that’s when you saw him already sitting there. his back was to you, but he was sitting straight as if he were waiting for something, someone.

you approached him, and aemond looked up at you, “i never thought i would see you again.” you whispered, “and now you’ve come back? for what?”

aemond shrugged, smiling, “forgiveness? but based on your hostility, i won’t bet on it. but i’m here for my son.” your heart sunk, and you felt a pang in your stomach.

“what son? you have children now?” your voice shook slightly and aemond knew you were nervous, “aenys. that boy is mine, and no matter how you’ve painted it for my idiot brother, anyone can see that is my son.” aemond spat, his eye staring at you intensely.

you shook your head, “no. you wanted nothing to do with him, and now you want to claim him? he isn’t yours, he isn’t aegons, he’s mine. i grew him in my stomach for nine months, i nearly died giving birth to him.” your rage was uncontainable, more at your darkest secret being aired out, “he is no more yours than anyone else’s in the keep. aenys is not yours to be giving gifts to or visiting when we are not around. he is in line for the throne because of his father.” you spat, “don’t bring this up ever again, prince aemond.”

and silence buzzed in your ears as you walked away. you heard the rustling of your own skirts as you felt tears fall onto your cheeks. trying to pull yourself together, you had to let out a single sob in order to carry on. but your single sob exploded into a multitude, and you felt like a knife had split your head, and darkness overtook you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・.✫・゜・。.

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a/n: i knew i had said i was gonna do separate endings but the drama got so inspired~ also yes aenys is aemonds son, and y/n had a panic attack at the end, i tried my best to describe it as if she didn’t know it was happening.