#Tom Glynn-Carney x Reader

[gabbyscorneroftheworld]

Photoshoot

Pairing: Tom Glynn-Carney x actress!Reader

Warnings: none?

⁕⁎⁕⁎⁕

Acting on House of the Dragon had been a dream of yours for a long time. You would think about it sometimes and you couldn't believe it.

Now that you've finished filming the second season, you're doing press events with your co-stars.

After an interview with Tom by your side, you had a photoshoot scheduled. He was the first one to be photographed, and went up to the set. He started posing, and a couple of times the photographer asked him to do a few more movements and change his expression.

Tom's eyes soon wandered off the camera and landed on you. He looked for a moment at you for a moment, admiring you. He smiled faintly, then turned his attention back to the photographer.

Soon after, your turn came. Tom looked at you as the photographer led you to the same set, the same set where he had been posing earlier. He watched you pose, admiring your beauty. He could tell by the way you were acting that you liked being photographed, and he was slightly envious of the photographer. He chuckled to himself at that.

He continued to look at you, his eyes lingering on you. For a few seconds, he forgot about what was happening around him. He was too focused on you, admiring you, and thinking how lucky the photographer was in this moment.

Afterwards, they were supposed to do the couple photoshoot, which meant he would finally get to be near you, something he had been thinking of during the photos.

The crew was preparing the set, while Tom approached you. "Are you ready for the duo photoshoot, princess?" he asked you, teasing you, using the usual nickname for you.

"Mhm," you replied. Tom smiled, nodding. He then chuckled at how calm and relaxed you seemed to be. "You look so calm. You like being photographed, don't you?"

"Maybe," she said, giving him a cheeky grin.

Tom chuckled at your answer. "I know you do. You like being the center of attention," he said, jokingly, before adding in a lower tone, "I don't blame you, though."

She laughed, then they heard their names being called to go back on set to continue the photoshoot.

You two got to set, and were now facing each other. Tom had to hold onto you during some shots, and get close to you, as per the photographer's instructions.

He was holding you against him, him arms around you. His body was pressed against yours, and every time they took a photo he couldn't help but glance at you, studying your face.

At some point, the photographer told you the poses and expressions didn't have to be so serious, that they could have some fun, so the last pose you did had you on Tom's back, him giving you a piggyback ride. It had you laughing the entire time.

He immediately started running around the set with you. He loved hearing you laugh, he could listen to it all day. During the whole thing, he was having a lot of fun too.

Eventually, he was told to stop, the photographer having taken enough pictures. Tom slowly stopped and crouched down , letting you get off. He then chuckled, panting slightly.

⁕⁎⁕⁎⁕

The next day, you posted on your Instagram account a picture of yourself from the photoshoot, followed by the one of Tom giving you a piggyback ride with the caption 'Thanks for the ride, Tom😂'.

He loved the picture of him carrying you on his back. He checked your Instagram when he noticed the notification that you had tagged him in a post. He liked the picture, then left a comment, replying to your caption 'Anytime, princess. Anytime.'

He couldn't resist sharing one or two photos as well, choosing one where he was holding you, captioning it 'Shooting with my co-star... and best girl'.

[its-all-or-nothing94]

One Night // Tom Glynn-Carney x f!Reader

Summary: Where reader goes out with her friends and meets this charming, sweet (and so fucking) hot guy in a club.

A/N: This is the first fic I have published based on a real person. I don't know Tom, this is just puuuure fiction, thank you very much! It's actually just a short little One-Shot :)

Ship: Tom Glynn-Carney x Reader

Warnings: Language (is it tho?), mentions of having sex, use of alcohol, One Night Stand

You have always thought of yourself as a pretty ordinary person. You had a decent job, a decent apartment, and a group of friends that you could count on for a good time. So when your best friend, Emily, suggested you go out to a trendy new club in London, you thought, why not?

The club was packed, the music loud enough to make you feel it in your chest. You weren't usually one for these kinds of places, preferring a quiet pub or a cozy night in with a book. But tonight, something felt different. You wanted to let loose, to forget about the mundane for just one night.

After a few drinks and a lot of dancing, you found yourself at the bar, slightly tipsy and in need of a break. That’s when you noticed him. A man standing beside you, ordering a drink with an easy confidence. He had a rugged charm about him, with tousled blonde hair and an intense gaze that seemed to see right through you.

“Having a good time?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Yeah, better than I expected,” you replied with a smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Tom,” he said, extending a hand. You shook it, feeling a strange spark at the touch.

You chatted for a while and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. He was funny, down-to-earth, and didn’t seem to have any of the pretentiousness you often encountered in these places. He didn’t mention his job, and you didn’t ask. You talked about music, movies, and travel – all the things that made life interesting.

Your laughter mingled with the thumping bass of the music, your body moving freely to the rhythm. Tom's eyes, a striking shade of blue, sparkled under the dim club lights as he leaned in closer. Your conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of stories and laughter that felt strangely intimate for two people who had just met.

Before you knew it, the night had flown by, and the club was starting to thin out. Tom glanced around, then leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Do you want to go somewhere quieter? Maybe talk without shouting over the music?"

You hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded. There was something about Tom that made you want to throw caution to the wind, to embrace this rare sense of spontaneity. "Sure, why not?"

You walked through the bustling streets of London, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the heat of the club. Tom hailed a cab, and you slid into the back seat, a comfortable silence settling between you. The ride was short, and soon, you stood in front of a sleek, modern apartment building. Tom unlocked the door and gestured for you to enter.

You stepped inside, taking in the stylish decor. The apartment was a perfect blend of modern chic and cozy comfort, with clean lines, soft lighting, and personal touches that hinted at Tom’s personality. He led you to the living room, where a leather sofa dominated the space, flanked by bookshelves filled with an eclectic mix of literature and knick-knacks.

"Make yourself comfortable," Tom said, heading to the open-plan kitchen. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Surprise me," you replied, sinking into the plush cushions of the sofa. You watched as Tom expertly mixed two drinks, his movements confident and precise. He handed you a glass, your fingers brushing briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"To unexpected nights," Tom toasted, raising his glass.

"To unexpected nights," you echoed, clinking her glass against his while you were blushing slightly.

You sipped your drinks, the alcohol warming you from the inside out. The conversation picked up where it had left off, but now there was an added layer of intimacy. You sat close, your knees touching, voices low and hushed. Tom's gaze never left your face, his eyes tracing your features as if trying to memorize them.

The air between you grew charged, the unspoken tension crackling like static. You felt your pulse quicken, your breath coming in shallow bursts. Tom set his glass down and leaned in, his hand gently cupping your cheek. He paused for a heartbeat, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, making your heartbeat quicken.

You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in the moment. The kiss deepened, your bodies pressed together, a hunger igniting between you.

Tom's hands roamed over your back, tracing the curve of your spine while your fingers tangled in his hair. You broke apart briefly, gasping for air, your foreheads resting together. "Are you sure about this?" Tom whispered, his voice husky with desire.

"More than sure," you replied breathlessly, your heart pounding in her chest.

What followed was a whirlwind of passion and desire. Clothes were shed hastily, discarded in a trail leading to the bedroom. You moved together with an urgency that bordered on desperation, your bodies finding a rhythm that felt both new and familiar. Tom's touch was gentle yet firm, his kisses searing a path across your skin. You felt more alive than you had in a long time, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

You finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, your bodies entwined, the city outside just a distant hum. The night had been a blur, but one thing was clear: it was a night neither of you would soon forget.

You woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. You carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake Tom. You dressed quietly, glancing back at him, a sense of something deeper stirring within you. You shook it off, knowing this was a one-night stand, nothing more.

You scribbled a quick note thanking him for a wonderful night and left it next to Tom before slipping out the door. The cool morning air hit your face as you stepped outside, swirling within you a mix of exhilaration, confusion, and a hint of sadness.

Back in the apartment, Tom woke up to find the note. He cursed softly under his breath, realizing he had forgotten to ask for your number. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the note in his hand, feeling a strange emptiness. For once, he had met someone who treated him like a normal person who didn’t care about his fame or his job. And now you were gone.

You walked through the quiet streets of London, replaying the events of the night in your mind. You knew it was just a fleeting moment, a brief escape from reality, but it was a night you would never forget, a night that made you feel truly alive.

As you reached your apartment, you couldn’t help but wonder what might have been. But you pushed the thought away, determined to hold onto the memory of a perfect night with no regrets. Life would go on, but you would always have that one night in London, with a man named Tom.

Later that morning, Tom found himself at their usual rehearsal spot, a grungy but cozy studio tucked away in East London. The rest of the Sleep Walking Animals were already there, casually tuning their instruments and chatting amongst themselves.

“Morning, mate,” Joe greeted Tom, plucking at his guitar strings.

“Morning,” Tom replied, his voice absent-minded.

Alex, noticing Tom’s distraction, smirked. “Someone’s got their head in the clouds. Or should I say, still in bed with that hot Y/H/C from last night?”

Tom shot him a look. “Shut it, Alex.”

“Oh, come on, Tommy boy,” Bill chimed in, drumming a rhythm on the edge of a table. “You looked proper smitten when you left the club. She must’ve been something special.”

“She was,” Tom admitted, slumping down onto a battered old couch. “But she buggered off before I could even ask for her number.”

“Savage,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Didn’t even leave a name or nothing?”

“She did,” Tom replied, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N. That’s all I got.”

“Y/N,” Nuwan mused, his fingers dancing over the keys absentmindedly. “Could be anyone, mate.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Tom muttered, frustration evident in his tone. “It’s just... I dunno, she was different. Didn’t give a fuck about who I am or what I do. Just treated me like a normal person.”

“Well, you are a normal person, mostly,” Joe teased. “Except when you’re whining about a girl like a lovesick puppy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tom said, but there was a hint of a smile.

“Can’t believe she just legged it,” Bill said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “What, were you that bad in bed?”

The room erupted in laughter, and Tom threw a cushion at Bill. “Piss off, Caple. It was great, thank you very much.”

Alex leaned over, grinning. “So, did you shag or not?”

Tom rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, we did. And it was... it was amazing.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it bad, mate,” Jack said, strumming a chord on his bass. “Bet you wish you could find her again.”

“Yeah,” Tom admitted, his voice softer now. “I really do.”

The guys exchanged looks, the teasing dropping away for a moment.

“Look, mate,” Joe said, more seriously. “We’ve got a gig tonight. Maybe you’ll meet someone else who’s just as cool. Don’t get too hung up on one girl.”

Tom nodded, knowing Joe was right but still feeling the pang of regret. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Nuwan started playing a familiar tune on the keys, and the rest of the band gradually joined in. The music filled the room, and for a while, Tom let it carry him away, the notes and rhythms a welcome distraction from thoughts of you.

But even as they played, your face lingered in his mind, a reminder of a night that felt all too fleeting and a connection that was painfully out of reach.

You sat with your friends at your favorite coffee shop, a cozy little place with mismatched furniture and a laid-back vibe. Emily, Sarah, and Jess were all there, sipping on their drinks and catching up on the latest gossip. You knew it was only a matter of time before the conversation turned to you.

“So, Y/N,” Jess started with a sly grin, “anything interesting happen last night? You disappeared from the club pretty quick.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Sarah echoed, her eyebrows raised. “Come on, spill it! Who was the guy?”

“His name’s Tom,” you said, trying to sound casual. “We met at the bar, hit it off, and... well, I went back to his place.”

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Emily exclaimed, nearly spilling her latte. “You had a one-night stand? With a guy you just met?”

“Yeah, I did,” you admitted, unable to hide your smile. “And it was amazing.”

“Details, please,” Jess demanded, leaning in. “How was he? What was his place like?”

“He was... incredible,” you said, feeling the warmth of the memory. “Funny, down-to-earth, and not full of himself. His place was pretty stylish too, very him.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Sarah sighed. “And you didn't get his number?”

You shrugged. “No, I left early, and he was still asleep. I didn’t want to wake him. Besides, it was just a one-night thing.”

“Still,” Emily said, shaking her head, “you should’ve left your number or something. What if he wants to see you again?”

“I doubt it,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “He probably doesn’t even remember my name.”

“You never know,” Jess said with a wink. “Maybe he’s thinking about you right now, regretting not getting your number.”

“Yeah, right,” you said, but a small part of you couldn’t help but hope Jess was right.

“Anyway,” Emily said, changing the subject, “my brother’s got tickets to this gig tonight. Some indie band. He asked me to come, and I thought it could be fun. You guys in?”

“Who’s the band?” Sarah asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Sleep Walking Animals,” Emily replied. “Ever heard of them?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” Jess said, shrugging. “Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Same here,” Sarah agreed. “Could be fun.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asked. “Got any plans tonight?”

You shook her head. “Nope, nothing. I’m in.”

“Great!” Emily said, clapping her hands. “It’s a plan then. We’ll meet up at my place and head over together.”

As you finished your coffees and chatted about other things, you felt a strange sense of anticipation building inside you. You weren't sure why, but the thought of going to this gig excited you. Maybe it was just the idea of a night out with your friends, or maybe, somewhere deep down, you hoped for something more.

[pascaloverx]

stockholm syndrome

Summary: You’ve just started working at a local diner, where whispers swirl about the disappearance of the previous waitress. While some believe she simply grew weary of her ordinary life, the mystery surrounding her vanishing lingers. On your first day, a man with piercing blue eyes catches your eye. His name is Titus, and he was a frequent customer of the missing waitress.

Author's Note: This fanfic will romanticize abduction; please be aware of this. It may also include violence and inappropriate language. This fanfic features characters from the short film Regulars (2023).

preview

ONE

You replay the night you spent with Titus over and over in your mind, unable to forget his kind smile or the way his presence had warmed an otherwise lonely evening. But he had vanished after that day, leaving you with nothing but questions. Christmas had come and gone, yet the diner still clung to the festive spirit, its decorations and endless loop of holiday songs a stark contrast to the unease that lingered in your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder what you might have done to drive away someone as gentle as Titus.

"Y/N, you're closing the diner tonight, right? We've got a New Year’s party to get to, and we don’t want to be late," one of your coworkers says, already halfway out of her uniform.

The two of them always seemed to take advantage of your willingness to pick up the slack. "I was the one who stayed late on Christmas," you reply, your tone calm despite the indignation simmering beneath the surface. "Am I expected to spend New Year’s here as well?"

"Look, we all know you don’t have any family around here," one of your coworkers says with a dismissive shrug, already slipping into her coat. "So you might as well stay until the end of the shift. Simple as that. And don’t get upset just because that weird little customer hasn’t come back to see you."

The other coworker, fully dressed to leave, chimes in with a smirk, and you look at her, stunned by the sheer pettiness of her remark.

"His name is Titus, not 'weird little customer.' You're bitter, but don’t worry—go ahead and enjoy your party. I’ll close the diner," you reply coldly, glaring at her with disdain. Neither of them seems to care about your reaction; they’re simply thrilled to be off the hook.

As your coworkers leave without so much as a thank you, you continue tending to the few customers scattered around the diner. While delivering the orders for two tables, you hear the bell above the door chime. You glance up and freeze. There, standing in the entryway, is Titus. He’s dressed more formally this time, his shirt neatly pressed and held up by a pair of suspenders that lend him an old-fashioned charm. His gentle smile warms the room, but you meet it with a closed-off expression. You're torn, your emotions a mix of disappointment and self-preservation. Perhaps Titus was just a lonely customer who needed company that one night, and you happened to be there. You refuse to let yourself hope for more.

"Good evening, sir. Here is your menu. If you're ready to place your order, just call for me," you say as Titus takes a seat. You hand him the menu with practiced composure, doing your best to mask the effect his presence has on you.

"I thought we’d moved past such formalities," Titus murmurs, his tone soft but laced with a timid attempt at confidence.

"We can always be mistaken, sir," you reply, keeping your voice steady and neutral. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another customer to attend to, but when you’re ready to order..." As you turn to leave, Titus gently takes your hand, his touch firm enough to stop you but still careful, almost hesitant. It’s enough to make you pause, your breath catching as you glance back at him. For a brief moment, his gaze holds yours, and the air feels heavier with unspoken words.

"May I explain the reason for my disappearance? Just give me a chance," Titus says softly, his eyes holding a pleading, almost puppy-like quality that leaves you momentarily flustered.

"At the end of the shift, you may explain whatever you wish, sir," you reply coldly, pulling your hand from his grasp with measured restraint.

For the rest of the evening, Titus remains at the diner, his presence as steady as the hum of the Christmas music playing in the background. Between attending to other customers and refilling his two cups of tea—which he ordered throughout the night—you find your gazes meeting far more often than you’d like. Each glance feels like an unspoken invitation, as if both of you were silently longing to bridge the space between you. You try to maintain your resolve, reminding yourself to keep your distance. Yet, the gentle warmth in his eyes chips away at your defenses, leaving you to wonder if opening your heart to him might not be as foolish as you fear.

"The shift is over," Titus says, his tone betraying how eagerly he'd been counting down to this moment alone with you.

"Very well, you may explain yourself while I finish closing the register. Not that you owe me an explanation," you reply, keeping your hands busy tidying up the diner to avoid meeting his gaze directly.

"The last time I was here, I mentioned having lost someone I loved," Titus begins, his voice quiet and uncertain, as if the words themselves might falter. "Speaking so openly with you made me reflect deeply on that loss—on whether I was ready to allow myself to feel vulnerable again, to open myself up the way I had before. Vulnerability is... delicate. I let my insecurities take hold and pull me away."

His voice wavers slightly, and this time, instead of the fidget toy he had used as a shield before, he clings to the cuff of his dress shirt, as though the fabric itself might offer him some semblance of steadiness. Each pause, each moment of hesitation, feels heavy with sincerity, and despite yourself, you find your resolve beginning to waver.

"Honestly, I was only upset because I couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. But I must assure you, it was never my intention to pressure you," you say, guilt tugging at you for having misjudged him. As a gesture of reconciliation, you take the seat across from Titus, signaling that you’re ready to listen and let the tension dissolve.

"Nothing went wrong," Titus replies softly, his eyes holding yours with a quiet intensity. "In fact, you were one of the very few people I’ve ever felt so comfortable talking to." His hands fidget briefly before stilling, as though he’s resisting the urge to reach out—either to take your hand or to pull you closer. The sincerity in his voice lingers, filling the small space between you, making it impossible not to feel the weight of his words.

"Perhaps it would be easier if we simply see this for what it is—you as my customer, and I as your waitress," you say with an understanding smile, your tone gentle as you meet Titus's gaze.

He presses his lips together, his expression pensive, as though carefully weighing his words. "I’d like to think I’m more than just your customer," he finally says, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

As he nervously fidgets with the teacup in front of him, you instinctively reach out, placing your hand over his. His skin is cold to the touch, but the small gesture seems to ease the tension in his frame. His fingers still beneath yours, and for a moment, the world outside the quiet diner fades away.

"This is my favorite Christmas song," you murmur, your voice light as you try to shift the mood, noticing the faint blush that blooms on Titus's cheeks after you touched his hand.

As if summoned by a surge of bravery, he stands, his chair scraping softly against the floor. He extends his hand toward you, his expression both nervous and determined. "May I?" he asks, his voice steady yet gentle, the unspoken promise in his words clear. It’s an invitation, not just to dance but to share a moment of quiet magic amidst the humdrum of your workplace. The soft melody of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" swirls around you, creating a bubble of warmth and possibility, as if the world outside no longer matters.

"I’m honored," you say, taking his hand and stepping into the slow rhythm of the dance. Your movements are unhurried, and as the sway of the music draws you closer, your head naturally rests near Titus’s shoulder. He leans in, his face near yours as if breathing you in. What might have felt odd under different circumstances now seems profoundly intimate, a gesture so unspoken yet deeply meaningful.

At one point, he gently spins you, and when you return, colliding softly into his frame, you find yourselves face to face. His warm breath brushes against your skin, carrying the faint, comforting scent of vanilla. Before you can fully register the moment, he leans forward and places a soft, fleeting kiss on your lips—a delicate graze that leaves you stunned. But rather than pulling away, you cup his face in your hands, holding him close as you press your lips to his in return. This time, the kiss is fuller, imbued with tenderness and a stirring intensity, as if speaking the words neither of you dared to say aloud.

When your lips part, Titus exhales as though a weight has been lifted from his chest. "Will you go out with me tomorrow?" he asks, his body still close to yours, his voice soft but steady.

"Like a date?" you reply, a hopeful lilt in your tone as the possibility of something real between you begins to take shape.

"Yes, a date," Titus confirms, though his words are quiet, almost hesitant, as though unsure if he should suggest what comes next. "I could cook for you... at my place."

"It sounds perfect," you answer warmly, your smile breaking through any lingering nerves in his demeanor. Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. He closes his eyes, a peaceful expression washing over him as though your acceptance is everything he dared to hope for and more.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi <3 I'm here with my request for TGC/actress!reader! No pressure if you don't like this or feel that you have to write it but what about if the shows out and people are going feral over their insane chemistry on screen and in interviews. But it gets worse when a pic of them kissing in costume on set is leaked and people are torn over if its a deleted scene or not (you can decide haha). And TGC and reader being fluffy and hounded to answer? Tysm if you decide to write this, no worries if not :)

Deleted Scene

Tom Glynn-Carney x Actress!Reader

Summary: "No, but truly, I am disappointed they didn't keep it," Tom mutters rather seriously, "I totally agree that our characters kissing is 100% vital character development."

Word Count: >600

Warnings: fem!reader, interview shenanigans, whipped!both of them, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: T_T ive been having a hard time finishing my reqs so i do hope yall like em. i think its best for everyone that i keep em short cos i will lose my mind 🤪 i dont wanna give up on them so i hope you enjoy nonnie <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @sloanexx @antisociablewallflower

Tom is sat on a chair on stage as he looks out to the crowd of eager fans, fans eager for answers about a particular clip that has been blazing about online. He breaks into a laugh when he hears the question regarding his lovely costar. He rubs the sides of face and chuckles into the mic, "next question please."

The crowd laughs.

Tom rubs his face and looks away as he clutches his torso. He releases a sigh then turns back to the guy who asked the question, "see... maybe I could answer that question easier if the person that question is about was here."

The crowd cheers.

Tom laughs, pulling his mic away, "I dunno, it's- it's quite awkward to... talk about your coworkers in certain ways, cause, you know, you don't want to put words in their mouth but--" he takes a moment before responding, "I would like to think," he places a hand on his chest, "that as much I as I enjoyed that kiss-"

Intense screaming.

"-she also did," he grits his teeth as he makes an apprehensive look. He breaks into a chuckle at how loud the shouts become.

Someone in the crowd screams out your ship name with Aegon.

"That being said, I do think it's a shame our kissing scene was cut out of the show-"

MEGA intense screaming.

Tom pulls his mic away and laughs through it. His jaw drops at the scream of a particularly enthusiastic fan. He points to that fan's general direction and chuckles as he says, "you get it."

"Can I just say," the fan who had asked Tom about the kissing scene in the first place speaks up. Tom looks at him as he explains that you were here at this convention two days ago and he got to ask you the same questions and-- "she said that she thought it was an integral piece of character development--"

Tom makes a face and nods.

"--and that because they cut it out, you should definitely make up for it with more kissing scenes."

The crowd loses their mind as Tom throws his head back then laughs into his hands. His face begins to turn a bright shade of red as he grins from ear to ear and his shoulders shake.

The fan holding the mic looks out to the crowd, "you can quote me on that, I'm sure there are clips online as evidence."

Tom wipes his face as he bites his lower lip.

He turns back to Tom, "do you have a response for her and everyone that ships your characters together?"

Tom blows a raspberry as he brings the mic to his mouth. With his cheeks still pink and his fingers ripping at his collar, he responds, "I'd love to kiss her."

Total and complete chaos amongst the people.

"FOR PLOT REASONS!" Tom calls out with an open mouthed smile. He shakes a hand out to the crowd as they bust their lungs with the intensity of their shouts.

He makes a cheeky expression, muttering lowly, "or maybe not--" he pulls his head back as he shakes it.

"No, but truly, I am disappointed they didn't keep it," Tom mutters rather seriously, "I totally agree that our characters kissing is 100% vital character development."

[darktrashsoulbear]

Actors

Header and Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Requests - OPEN

Ewan Mitchell

Exploring Local Treasures - Ewan takes his new girlfriend on a tour of his hometown Derby, on her insistence, and scrambles to find things to do while also just being so incredibly in love

Arnas Fedaravičius

Coming soon!

Tom Glynn-Carney

Coming soon!

Drew Starkey

Coming soon!

[goodwitchhour]

finished with uni until feb next year which means I’m free to write again!!!!!!!

am gonna start writing & finishing up any requests I’ve got but please send in more, it honestly motivates to write more!🫶🏼😋

[ophelieverse]

[moonlightrafe]

The Albatross

summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child and his entire world changes.

pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader

word count: 767

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.

note: “Albatross” is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)

Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features — but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you could’ve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.

It wasn’t your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brother’s served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyra’s infidelity.

Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.

Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!” you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.

“We’re almost there, my love. You’re doing a great job,” your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.

“I cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!”

One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.

Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.

“You know we can’t do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.”

You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegon’s sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You weren’t sure if you would be willing to go through this again.

“I can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.”

You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.

“You hear that? You’re almost done. You’re doing so good.”

You squeezed onto Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.

Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and coo’s from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.

Finally.

The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.

“A girl,” she stated proudly, “and she looks just like you, my queen.”

“Like me?” You shot up.

“Lay back your grace, you need to relax,” she scolded you.

Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Yes,” he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, “like you. She is absolutely beautiful.”

He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.

A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?

He couldn’t help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.

Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegon’s head it wasn’t until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family

[jacaerysonlywife]

FOR MY JACE GIRLIES OUT THERE!

[aegonstradwife]

conception | aegon targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aegon have 4 daughters. while aegon is in a meeting they discuss the fact that the king doesn’t yet have a male heir. otto suggests aegon taking a second wife to have a chance at producing an heir. it pisses aegon off that otto would even suggest that.

warnings: talk of general misogyny, established relationship, smut. (riding, creampie.)

a. note: link to the original request.

It's a warm day, perfect for taking the girls out to play in the courtyard. They are glad to be free of their daily lessons, and you of your queenly duties.

One day away from such responsibilities couldn't hurt, and the sun shining down on your grouping had you in higher spirits than you had been for months.

Until you spied your husband stalking his way through the corridor toward you.

Initially, you lit up as you saw Aegon, as did your daughters upon seeing their father; he is so often away from them in council meetings or tending to other kingly duties.

For Aegon, seeing his wife and daughters makes him happier than he's been all day. It's a rare sight, seeing him smile so warmly, especially these days. But sadly, it doesn't last long.

The girls may not notice, as Aegon scoops the youngest into his arms, but you sure as hells do.

That menacing look, the red rimming his eyes. Telltale signs that Aegon isn't feeling his best, which unfortunately have been more prevalent of late.

"Aegon?" You lay a hand on your husband's arm, squeezing. "What's the matter, love?"

His violet eyes lay upon your hand squeezing his arm, and he tries to keep his terrible mood in check, so as not to take it out on you or the children. "There's nothing wrong, my dear."

But he refuses to meet your gaze as he presses a kiss to your daughter's forehead.

"Nothing?" You raise your brows, studying him. Something is wrong. Perhaps something you'd better not discuss around the girls....

"Ladies, why don't we break for lunch?" You announce, herding your daughters to one of the maids nearby.

With one last kiss to her chubby cheek, Aegon sets the youngest down and allows her to waddle off with the rest to the kitchens.

"Talk to me, my love." Once alone, you run your hands up Aegon's arms to his shoulders, kneading. "What happened? I thought you were meant to be at council all day...."

The king grumbles, frustrated to be questioned by you, but at the same time relishing the feeling of your talented hands kneading the tension out of his shoulders. Of which there is a lot.

His gaze meets yours, and there's a hint of annoyance in it, though whether at you or other matters, you can't initially tell.

".... Otto has brought a most pressing matter to the council today."

The breath he takes next is measured, trying to keep his composure, though he finds doing so much easier in your presence.

"What?" You frown, any number of terrible things flashing through your mind. All of them ending with the palace in rubble, your family ruined as Rhaenyra takes the throne. "Is it her? What awful thing has she done now?"

You dig your fingers ferociously into Aegon's shoulders.

A small pained noise escapes him, though he tries not to wince as he places his hands over yours to loosen your grip.

"It's not Rhaenyra." He continues to stare at you, his eyes full of an exhaustion you wish you could wipe away. "It's Otto."

You smooth your fingers apologetically over his shoulders, soothing the hurt. "So you said. What did he say?"

Aegon closes his eyes, that furrow between his brows relaxing for just a moment, as your fingers stroke him, before returning. He pauses, unsure how you're going to take the words that must next fall from his lips. Knowing they might hurt you. "He said we need a son, that we desperately need a son and soon...."

Your stomach falls. You knew this was coming - for years now you've only been able to produce girls. With every birth, Aegon's joy only grew, and your worry along with it.

What if you couldn't produce an heir at all? What if -

"We'll keep trying," you say resolutely. "I know I can give you a son. Just let's keep trying, please...."

"That's not all that was mentioned." It looks like it physically pains Aegon to tell you this. "The matter of a second wife was also raised, to try and help produce a male heir...."

You know husbands - especially kings - often take second wives when the first is unable to birth a son. Gods, it will about kill you if Aegon turns to that ...

At a loss for what to say, and feeling tears threatening to spill if you utter so much as a word, you cling speechlessly to Aegon, hoping for him to make it all better.

His hand is under your chin, cupping gently, forcing you to look at him. "But.... what if.... what if I don't care for a son?"

Shaken by this declaration, all thoughts of crying banished in worry, you clap a hand over your husband's mouth and glance around for any passing servants. "Do not say that, Aegon! What if someone were to hear...?"

A determined hand encircling your wrist, he pulls your fingers gently from his mouth, a grave look on his face. "And if they did? Why is it so important they think we care about a son? Why.... why couldn't one of our daughters be queen? Rhaenyra seems to think she has some claim to the throne. Why not our eldest?"

That intense stare does not waiver as he continues to peer at you.

"Aegon, please, not here..."

The cogs in your head are turning, as you grab him by the hand and pull him along into a spare room, Aegon following silently along.

It seems he, too, is thinking about what he's just said as he closes the door behind you. His expression is still earnest when he turns to face you.

You turn to face him at the same time, arms crossed. "You're saying you would name Syryn as your successor, as queen?"

"Yes," comes his simple yet fervent reply. "If Rhaenyra believes Viserys named her heir, then surely I can do the same?"

You chew thoughtfully at your cheek. "Otto will never accept it. I doubt the smallfolk would either. Isn't that why we're in this situation in the first place?"

"You think they won't accept it?" Aegon asks, cornering you and placing his hands on your shoulders. "I'll make them accept it. I'm the king, damnit. I don't want a son, I don't need a son. I have everything I need already."

The conviction with which he says it almost makes you believe it. "And.... you don't want to at least keep trying? For a son? Or even another daughter?"

Seeing your husband all worked up like this is making you feel.... things.

Aegon notices the immediate change in your expression, the way you look at him, your need for him.

"We will keep trying.... but not because I want a son."

His hands relinquish their hold on your shoulders to instead grab for your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you flush against him. That earnest look in his eyes is now dark with desire, gaze roaming hungrily over your body.

Your hands come to sweetly cradle his jaw, humming contentedly as your body is pulled to his. "I love hearing you talk about our family this way. I love knowing you love us and will do anything to protect us, as king."

Twining a lock of his hair around your finger, you look up at him through your lashes. "I would love to give you another child, Aegon. Son or daughter."

He purrs as your fingers weave further into his hair, his hands tightening their grasp on your hips, pulling you ever - impossibly - closer.

Aegon leans down, breath hot against your ear, and breathes, "Then you'd better be prepared to keep trying.... over, and over and over again."

You can't help but grin, ecstatic at Aegon's joy over your family. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders and kiss him; a biting kiss, teeth clashing, tongues sliding over each other.

"We should try now," you gasp, tugging at the back of Aegon's jacket. "While the girls are at lunch and you have some time away from the council."

Aegon groans agonizingly into your mouth before he pulls away, gaze now even darker.

"Such a desperate little thing, aren't you? Wanting to take advantage of your husband while he can spare the time," he teases, pulling off his jacket and tossing it aside.

Even just those words - Aegon calling you desperate, seeing you for what you truly are - are enough to make your legs tremble.

"Oh please, Aegon. Right here, I need it here."

The room you've found yourselves in is bare, with naught more than a fireplace and a few suits of armor dotting the perimeter.

As such, you pull him back toward the wall and lean yourself against it, fingers dipping under the collar of his exposed tunic. "I need to feel you, my king."

Aegon presses you back against the wall, your back aligning with the cool stones, his body now pressed firmly against yours. His lips find your neck with a huff of hot air, kissing and nibbling, hands grabbing for every bit of you they can reach.

"You're always so needy, so desperate," he mutters. "I'll give you what you need, my wife. I'll give you everything you desire."

As his hands work their way over you, yours do the same over him. His body has the perfect amount of cushion to it - being held against him is the most comfortable feeling in the world.

"Aegon...." You whisper, lifting a leg to wrap it high around his waist. "Give me another child. Please."

A deep growl escapes him at the wrap of your leg around him and he presses forward, wanting to make sure you can feel every searing inch of him against you.

"You want another child, do you?" His lips blaze a scorching path to the collar of your dress, which he tugs out of the way with his teeth. "You want me to fill you up and give you what you need?"

In a hurry to have him inside of you, you gather your skirts and pull them up with a quick nod. "Let's not waste too much time. Someone will be looking for one of us sooner or later."

He whines as your gown is hiked up, revealing the smooth, creamy skin of your legs and the heat between them. He runs his hands over those legs, leaving burning trails in their wake.

"So impatient," he murmurs, "but I have to agree with you."

He hunches down, positioning himself properly between your legs, and curls his hands around the backs of your thighs. "Wrap your legs around my waist, love, and hold on tight."

With your back still anchored against the wall, you wrap your legs tightly around your husband's hips and allow him to lift you from the ground. Your hands are still moving all over him, eventually skimming down to his trousers, which you start to undo the buckle of.

Aegon grunts his approval, allowing you to unbuckle his breeches. His gaze never leaves yours, though, as his breaths grow shallow.

"Gods, you're going to be the death of me one day," he sighs, hands squeezing at your thighs. "You always know how to drive me absolutely wild."

At this angle, it's hard to get your hand all the way inside the opening of Aegon's pants. But you do manage to circle your fingers haphazardly around your husband's half-hard cock and give him a few solid pumps to bring him to full hardness.

"And the way to drive you wild is to ask you to fill me full of your babies, isn't it, Aegon?"

His breath hitches at the feeling of your hand around him, a frustrated groan falling from his lips. His entire body quivers with desire as he leans in. "You know me too well. The thought of filling you with my seed, of giving you more children.... it's enough to drive any man wild."

"Any man?" You 'tsk.' "Doesn't the thought of just 'any' man getting me pregnant make you jealous, my king?"

With your legs already around his hips, it's hard to get the waist of his trousers low enough to allow his erection to pop out and Aegon has to help you, shoving the constricting material down so that the head of his cock can nudge at your folds. "I'm wet for you.... can you feel it?"

Though he doesn't say it aloud, he feels a sharp pang of jealousy at your words, a possessive need surging through him. He growls, hands gripping your thighs even tighter, eyes practically blazing with desire.

"Don't play with me. I know you're teasing, but it's enough to make me lose control." He leans in even closer, breath blistering against your skin. "Put me inside, my love. Let me feel you."

Arching your back away from the wall, you position yourself so that Aegon's cockhead is pressing insistently at your opening. "…. should I make you beg to fill me up?"

That simple question sets his body quivering with yearning for you. His fingers dig into your skin as he tries to hold on to his composure, but failing all the while.

"Please…." He groans, his voice low and hoarse. "Please, my love, let me fill you up. I need it, I need you."

"Good boy," you sigh, and after a quick peck of a kiss to his nose, you begin to relax the muscles in your back, allowing your wet cunt to slide down on Aegon's cock, welcoming him inside of you.

Aegon's eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure at the feeling of your warm, wet heat around him. With a sharp inhale, he redoubles his hold on your thighs, pulling you down onto him as he begins to move with you, matching your rhythm perfectly. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with your moan and Aegon's desperate grunts. Aegon's face finds your neck again as he continues to drag you down onto him with abandon, deeper and harder with each thrust.

"You feel so good, my love." His voice is tremulous, hands beginning to shake where they hold you up. "I'm not going to stop until I get you pregnant again."

And it all feels so dirty, the hem of your gown trapped around your waist as your husband pulls you down by your hips, driving himself into you. Your hands try to grapple for purchase at the wall beside your head, but then settle for resting your wrists at Aegon's shoulders, tips of your fingers clawing and scratching at the back of his neck.

"Please, Aegon…we don't have long. Someone might come looking soon…" At this point, you don't even care if you climax, as long as Aegon's seed finds its home deep inside of you.

In response, Aegon nods, hips now moving even faster as he feels your nails digging into his neck. He can feel his own release building, evidenced by the way his chest heaves and his face has gone pink all over. The need to give you what you want is overwhelming for him.

"D-Don't worry, my love," he gasps. "I won't last long like this."

And with that, he gives one final, powerful thrust, burying himself deep as he empties himself inside of you, shouting your name like a war cry.

There are few things in this world you enjoy more than the feeling of Aegon's warm seed splashing inside of you. You hum, eyes rolling back, as the king spends himself inside you.

He pulls you close, holding you tight against his chest. "I love you," he gasps, with a kiss to your temple. "And I love our daughters. Fuck a male heir. Syryn will be queen."

Capturing his lips in another kiss, you run your hands gladly up and down his chest. "Syryn will make a great queen. She already bosses the other girls around like it's her job."

Aegon chuckles, pulling back to look down at you with a gleam in his eye. "I think she takes after her mother in that regard."

[pascaloverx]

stockholm syndrome

Summary: You’ve just started working at a local diner, where whispers swirl about the disappearance of the previous waitress. While some believe she simply grew weary of her ordinary life, the mystery surrounding her vanishing lingers. On your first day, a man with piercing blue eyes catches your eye. His name is Titus, and he was a frequent customer of the missing waitress.

Author's Note: This fanfic will romanticize abduction; please be aware of this. It may also include violence and inappropriate language. This fanfic features characters from the short film Regulars (2023).

ONE

PREVIEW

Your shift is almost over. Tonight, the diner will stay open late to welcome those who aren’t feeling the Christmas spirit—the lonely souls, adrift in the world. Much like yourself, newly arrived in this small town after losing your father to a cruel illness and falling out with your mother.

This Christmas Eve, you find yourself waiting tables to cover the rent for your tiny apartment. Two other coworkers are in the back of the diner, gossiping about the former waitress who vanished some time ago. They’re whispering their theories about what might have happened to her, leaving you alone to clean tables and serve the customers.

"Are you... are you open?" A blonde man with a clean-shaven face and captivating blue eyes steps into the diner, looking extremely nervous. Last Christmas plays softly in the background—you had set it on your phone while tidying the tables, hoping to drown out your coworkers’ gossip. "Obviously, it is. What a foolish question to ask," he adds, glancing around with a hint of nervousness and insecurity. In his hand, he holds something, fiddling with it in a way that seems to calm him.

“It’s not foolish; it must be rather unusual to find a diner open on Christmas Eve. But to answer your question, yes, we are open. Please, make yourself comfortable, sir,” you reply, walking to the counter to fetch a menu.

“You don’t need to call me sir,” he murmurs so softly it’s almost inaudible, still clutching what looks like a fidget toy. The gentle tone of his voice is oddly comforting. You smile, trying to think of a kind response. He seems like someone in need of kindness. As you step closer to hand him the menu, you notice a cut on his forehead.

“And how would you prefer to be addressed, sir?” you ask, your gaze briefly lingering on the cut on his forehead while he alternates between glancing at the menu and meeting your eyes.

“You can call me by your name—I mean, my name. Titus, that’s it,” he stammers, tripping over his words. You find it endearing how he seems ready to combust just from talking to you.

“My name is Y/N, since we’re introducing ourselves. So, Titus, what would you like to eat or drink?” you ask, pulling a notepad from the pocket of your apron to take his order.

“A cup of black tea, if possible…” he says, handing you the menu. As you reach to take it, your hands brush ever so slightly. His hands are icy, almost freezing to the touch.

“Forgive me for being forward,” you say softly, “but while I heat the water for your tea, may I fetch a bandage for the cut on your forehead?”

"My cut?" he asks innocently, as he touches his face in search of the wound. When he takes too long to find it, you decide to take his hand and guide it to where the cut on his forehead is. He lets out a pained groan as soon as his fingers make contact with the spot, slightly bleeding.

"I'm sorry, I should have realized it would hurt. Wait here while I heat the water for your tea and fetch the first aid kit," you say, gently releasing his hand, noticing the slight surprise in his eyes at the gesture.

You quickly head to the back of the diner, noticing that your coworkers are no longer there. They must have slipped out quietly while you were attending to Titus. There’s no time to dwell on it now—the water is already heating in the electric kettle, and you still need to find the first aid kit. You locate it in a compartment near the staff lockers and hurry back to Titus.

"I hadn’t... I hadn’t noticed this cut. Is it very deep?" Titus asks, his voice trembling slightly as he struggles to form a coherent question. You sit down across from him and begin gently cleaning the wound on his forehead. "It’s not too deep, but it could’ve gotten worse if left untreated," you reply, your tone calm and steady as you focus on the task at hand.

"Do you often take care of your customers' physical well-being?" Titus asks, trying to push past his shyness as you finish applying the bandage.

"Actually, I used to dress wounds for my father all the time—he was quite accident-prone. Compared to his injuries, yours seems almost nothing," you explain, placing a Barbie band-aid on his forehead. He smiles gently at you, his eyes softening. There's an unexpected warmth in the moment, the two of you now closer than before.

"I bet you'd rather be with your family tonight instead of here, making tea and dressing the wounds of a complete stranger," Titus says, pressing his lips together as if regretting the words the moment they leave his mouth.

"I won’t lie, I’d rather not be working. But your company is actually making everything feel a bit easier. And I couldn’t be with my family. My father recently passed away, and my mother... she wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with me," you say, feeling as though you've opened up too much to a stranger, but something about Titus’s presence makes you feel oddly at ease. An awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment, and you quickly decide to fetch Titus’s tea, returning to the table with a steaming cup of black tea. You place it in front of him, offering a small smile.

"I’m sorry about your father," Titus says softly, his voice sincere as he takes a sip of his tea. "I too lost someone I cared about recently." You nod, murmuring a quiet "thank you," and start to step away from the table, the weight of the conversation lingering between you. But before you can move too far, Titus gently takes hold of your hand. His touch is soft, almost as though he's afraid you'll pull away.

"Would you stay with me for just a little while longer?" he asks, his voice hesitant, tinged with an uncertainty that surprises you. His eyes search yours, as if waiting for you to decide. Something about the way he asks makes you feel as though he’s not just looking for company, but perhaps something more—a moment of solace in the quiet of the night.

You consider your options for a moment, but as you meet Titus’s gentle gaze, something inside you softens. His eyes, filled with a quiet yearning, draw you in, and without thinking, you nod. "Of course, I can stay a little longer," you say, your voice calm yet warmer than before.

Titus's expression brightens slightly, a hint of relief crossing his features, and he gives a small, appreciative smile. The air between you both feels lighter now, as though, for a brief moment, the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet corner of the diner.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Found the inbox, i think😅 could you please make a shortstory with aegon/tom the actor? Where yn is a co actress playing a servant/love interest for aegon, and they are supposed to kinda film a feisty makeout scene (on aegons bed🙄) . Anyway it’s kinda awkward so ofc Tom is gonna be a crackhead and try make yn laugh as well as being fliirtyyy (and dirtyminded). That’s it that’s all I’ve got. If this made some sense at all and you would be so kind to use your time and talent on this, I will be blushing and screaming for a week!!

A Total Babe

Tom Glynn-Carney x Actress!Reader

Summary: Aegon is yucky but Tom is baby (confirmed.)

Word Count: >800

Warnings: fem!reader, tom being super cutie and annoying T_T, set shenanigans, i have never actually been on set so im making stuff up as I go, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hello lovie im giving you an express pass (even though its not as express but trust me it's express lololol) because youre new here and im sure youre super panicked that i havent replied yet lol i btw combined your req with another one (i actually thought you were the anon that sent that) because they're quite similar. btw nonnie, i didn;t want to redo the matt smith fic, so i changed it up a bit <3 i hope you both like it <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda

"Cut!" the director calls.

Tom, who was hovering atop me from the bed we were laid upon, pulls back, pressings his lips into a line, and rolls off, landing on his back.

I, who had been making out him for about 30 minutes, prop myself up on my elbows and eventually sit up. I suck in a breath, willing the haze that comes in the aftermath of kissing. I catch sight of the incoming stylists, ready to retouch our makeup and readjust our wardrobe.

I straighten up as the makeup artist redoes my foundation with her brush. I turn to the artist that goes up to Tom and I point a bit worriedly, "I think I accidentally messed with his wig."

Tom, who's stylist immediately check on his platinum hairpiece, turns to me, chuckle, "her fingers were two inches away from snatching it off."

They all laugh at his sentiment. I, in particular, snort and frown playfully, "fake news. You're such a drama enticer."

"What?" Tom chuckles, "I'm not kink shaming," he raises his hands, "but you can't just snatch my wig, baby."

I scoff, rolling my eyes, holding back my grin. I turn to the the stylists, absolutely humored and enamored by Tom's English drawl and smooth talking, "he's such a dweeb."

Tom pulls his upper lip up in faux annoyance, "I'm offended you think so little of me."

Once our makeup was retouched and ready, Tom and I go back to our spots on the other side of the set. He extends a hand out to help me up, although I didn't need it, and I take his hand, allowing him to lead us back to our marks. Totally normal. Totally no butterflies in my stomach.

Tom and I face each other, waiting for our queue. We absentmindedly look around the set. There are distant voices of crew members conversing behind the camera.

It turn to Tom when he pushes back hair behind my ear.

I give him a look and he gives me a narrow eyed smirk, as if nonverbally saying he did that just to mess with me. I ignore him and the tightening of my chest.

The next moment, the intimacy coordinator walks up to us with the director, the latter of the two says, "great shot guys, but I'm thinking wilder."

"Are we ok with that?" the intimacy coordinator asks, looking between us as she raises a thumb up with her questioning gaze.

Tom and I turn to each other, nodding softly as we purse our lips and mutter agreements.

"Ok," the director points, motioning over to the bed, "I think in this part, where you push up her skirt, you have to make sure the camera can see your hand on her thigh, Aegon."

Aegon's actor nods as we walk over to bed.

"Should we practice it?" I apprehensively offer.

"We can," Tom says, turning between the three of us, raising his hand out to me. I grab his hand and place it on my hip, hiking my skirt, placing up the bunched up fabric in Tom's hand. Much like a while ago, I place my hands on Tom's shoulders, leaning back a bit. His hand goes to my waist, and I huff, ignoring the washing machine turns in my stomach.

"Are we good?" the intimacy coordinator asks again, coming near us, placing a hand on our shoulders. Both Tom and I turn to her and agree. She smiles and nods, stepping back, "okie dokie.

The director steps forward, adjusting our form, turning over her shoulder, "how are we looking?"

One of the assistants calls, "looking hot!"

"Nice," the director grins, turning back to us. She turns to me, "you're good with whining out his name?"

"Tom?" I catch myself, "I- I mean-" but it's too late.

Tom, the director, the intimacy coordinator, and everyone else who catches my questioning tone, breaks into a giggle.

I bare my teeth in a tight grin, straightening myself up, pulling my hands away from Tom, "I meant Aegon," I weakly say.

Tom chortles, loosening his grip on me as he looks off to the camera, "for the record, she did not."

The director chuckles, slapping Tom's shoulder playfully as she turns to me, correcting, "Aegon!"

"Aegon," I nod my head.

"Aegon," Tom grins, as he says my character's name sequentially.

I roll my eyes at him, "yes but Aegon keeps forgetting her name."

"Fine," Tom says, continuing with my name as he throws a lopsided smile.

"Enough," our director, chastised lightly tapping Tom's nose, "if you two screw this up I'm making you do 600 push ups."

Tom gasps, pulling his hands away from me altogether, to hover his them by either side of his cheeks, "not corporal punishment."

I cross my arms, scoffing in amusement, turning to the director, "please actually make him do 600 pushups if he messes up."

Tom laughs loudly, "aha," he tilts his head, "and what should I do to you for calling out my name on," he raises his two fingers and wiggles them " 'accident', sweetheart?"

"Quit being annoying," I raise my brows at him, pursing my lips.

"That means you find me distracting," he retorts victoriously, wiggling his eyebrows next.

"Alright," the director raises her hands in front of both our faces, "that's enough flirting. On your marks."

[darktrashsoulbear]

Taglist

If you'd like to be tagged in my work, then please comment on this post with the name of the fandom

Current fandoms:

House of the Dragon

Outer Banks

The Last Kingdom

Game of Thrones

Actors

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[daemontargaryenwhore]

Aegon finally taking high valyrian classes on duolingo.

[ophelieverse]

“i was abed” yeah sure😒

[moonlightrafe]

My Sister’s Keeper

summary: Aemond intends to send you away to protect you after he starts the war, but Aegon isn't ready to let you go.

pairing: Aegon & Aemond x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, mention of death, incest, threesome, p in v sex, oral (m&f receiving), voyeurism, male masturbation, infidelity (reader is married to Aemond), lactation kink, choking, cum play/eating, spit, Aegond kiss!! (oop) 18+ MDNI

note: Uhhhh. I'm sorry??? I feel like I just breezed through this, idk I was horny lol. Feedback is appreciated!

You’ll never forget the look on Aemond’s face when he first arrived back to the Red Keep from his journey to Storm’s End. Your family was desperate in the inevitable, upcoming war against Rhaenyra so Aemond had been sent to help strike up a proposal between one of Lord Borros’ daughters and the youngest son of the late king Viserys, Daeron Targaryen.

Sitting in the large bed of your shared chamber, you had been anxiously awaiting his arrival, chewing your fingernails down to bloody nubs.

“Aemond!” you practically leapt into his arms when he appeared sopping wet in the doorway. Overjoyed to see he’d returned in one piece, but something was off, something was wrong. He was vacant, like he had seen a ghost.

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”

With that simple sentence you knew your lives would be changed forever.

“You cannot just make me disappear,” you said to your husband through gritted teeth, as your voice trembled, lump in your throat forming as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

“If we are not here they will just go looking for us.”

“Anywhere is safer than here, my love.” Aemond answered coolly.

“If you think this decision was not difficult to make, you are wrong. It is simply what's best for the both of you. You and the babe will be staying in Dorne until I know for certain that it is safe for you here.”

“But –”

“But nothing! This is not up for debate,” he growled at you, “the decision has been made and it is final!” His words cut through you like a knife.

“You cannot make a decision like this. You are not the king.”

“No “ he retorted, “but I am your husband, therefore, when it comes to you and my child, what I say goes!”

You got up and exited your shared chambers with haste, not wanting Aemond to see you cry.

Your bare feet padded against the cold stone floor of the Red Keep, the walls echoed and groaned as you made your way to your eldest brother’s chambers.

Aegon’s head perked up when he heard you come in. He stared at you sheepishly from behind his goblet of wine.

“Has he told you?”

Letting out a deep sigh, “he has.”

“I cannot leave you. I will not leave you, Aegon.”

“I know, I know,” he says, patting the spot next to him, motioning for you to come and sit.

“Our half-sister is unpredictable,” he replied calmly, “there’s no telling what she might do… not to mention, Daemon.”

As much as you did not want to admit it, both of your brothers were right. Accident or not, Rhaneyra’s son was dead. You would be a fool to believe she wouldn’t be out for blood.

Aegon pulled you into his lap, his cock already half hard. You kissed him deeply as he grinded his hips up into yours. You ran your fingers through his unruly silver hair, enjoying the feel of his mouth on you. Completely lost in the moment, you hadn’t heard Aemond enter the room.

He cleared his throat loudly to make his presence known.

“Aemond!”

Your brother-husband stalked into the room, his violet eye scanning over you with amusement.

“Oh please, do continue.”

Your chest rose and fell as you struggled to find the right words to say.

“Did you not hear me? I said continue,” Aemond repeated, as he approached you and Aegon.

“Aemond, this is not what it looks like —“

His brow furrowed at you as he gripped your chin forcing you to look him directly in the eye.

“Do you mistake me for a fool? You believed me to be unaware of your little arrangement?”

Still at a loss for words, you and Aegon just stared at your brother nervously. Aemond moved away a few inches and started to remove his tunic and his trousers. His cock strained hard against his small clothes, which he removed not long after. You gawked at him as he pumped his cock in his left hand, making his way back to you.

Aegon’s violet eyes beamed with excitement at this, pupils blown with lust. He took no time to nip at your neck, your earlobes, grinding against your core once again.

“I fear this is inappropriate,” you began.

“What’s inappropriate is you sneaking away from your husband to come fuck this wastrel,” Aemond began, his words thick with venom.

“Clearly, you want the both of us. So have us… while you still can.”

A slight moan left your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing Aegon easier access to your throat, your gaze never leaving Aemond’s, his expression unreadable as he nodded his head at you.

Aemond had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the tip bright red, lushed and angry, his arousal already dripping from the tip.

Aegon leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, and began to suck harshly. Being that your babe was only two months old, you were lactating. A loud moan escaped your lips as you felt the milk begin to flow.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, “just like that. You’re doing so good.”

You could feel his cock twitching against your leg at your praise as he continued to ravenously lap at your breast.

As he switched to your other breast he sucked harder at your stiffened peak, the milk coming almost instantly. He palmed your abandoned breast with his large hand, squeezing gently. Shivers ran down your spine as the sweet feeling of relief washed over you once again.

A growl erupted from Aemond’s throat and he unexpectedly pulled Aegon away from your chest. To your utter surprise, he crashed his lips against Aegon’s, tasting your milk on his tongue. You watched with bewilderment as your husband passionately kissed your brother, tugging at his unruly hair, moaning into his mouth. Arousal seeped from your core and onto Aegon’s thighs. Aemond broke the kiss abruptly and stared at you.

Aegon’s hands gripped your waist, flipping you around so you were underneath him. Your eldest brother positioned you so you were laying on your back comfortably against the pillows. He nestled himself between your thighs and hastily hiked your nightgown up over your waist. You shivered as his warm breath fanned over your folds. Before you could blink his tongue was prodding at your entrance. Your hands flew to the back of his head on instinct, pulling him closer into your center.

Aemond approached you carefully. He tapped his cock against your lower lip a few times, a signal for you to open your mouth. Just as he did so, Aegon’s tongue had reached the right spot, causing your mouth to gape open as a loud moan escaped your lips. Aemond took this as an opportunity to forcefully shove his cock into your mouth. You felt a rush of pleasure as Aemond's cock filled your mouth. You began to suck and lick it, eager to make him moan even louder. Aegon's tongue continued to explore you as you pleasured Aemond, and you felt your body quiver with pleasure.

If you knew being with another man in his presence would have this effect on him, you would have brought your affair to light long ago.

With a low groan of your name he pumped in and out of your mouth mercilessly, the salty taste of his precum evading your tastebuds. The air left your lungs as you gagged around him. You could feel the pent up anger Aemond held for the entirety of the situation with each brutal buck of his hips. Ever so slowly he pulled back, giving the you the illusion he was going to give you a break. But before you were able to catch your breath, his cock found his way to the back of your throat again. The faster he went, tears began to stream down your face.

As bubbles of spit began to form around the corners of your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks to the best of your ability. With Aegon now three fingers knuckle deep in your cunt it was almost impossible for you to focus on Aemond; but as the pace of his thrusts quickened you knew he was going to cum soon. You moaned around his length, the vibrations making his cock twitch, you could feel every throb of the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock.

“No,” Aemond growled as he pulled himself from your throat, “I need to feel your cunt around me.”

Aemond all but shoved Aegon away from you, almost knocking him off the large bed. Aemond lined his cock up with your center and sheathed himself inside of you with quickness.

As Aegon now sat on the upper left corner of the bed, he watched intently as Aemond’s cock disappeared into you repeatedly. One hand tugged at his painfully hard cock and the other wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he cooed, “look at how you take him so well,” he praised.

You nodded your head at him enthusiastically, pleasure overwhelming you. Aegon hooked his thumb into your mouth and you sucked and nipped at it intently.

There was no doubt that Aemond enjoyed the praise as well, snapping his hips even harder into your own. His cock bullied your sweet spot mercilessly. Your body tingled with a mix of pleasure and pain as Aemond's thrusts intensified; pressing hard against your cervix. His large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, making it difficult to focus on anything else but the raw desire consuming your every thought.

“Fuck, Aemond, I’m going to cum!” you screamed as your hot waves of pleasure coursed through you.

Aegon watched intently as your orgasm wracked your entire frame, his own following not long after. He let out a loud groan as he came into his hand. He flashed an evil grin at Aemond as he brought his fingers to Aemond's mouth, shoving them down his throat.

Your husband gagged around his digits, sucking Aegon's release from them.

As the aftershock of your orgasm continued to pump though you, your cunt squeezed around Aemond’s cock. The depravity of it all overwhelmed him and Aemond cum with a shudder. With one final thrust and a loud grunt, he was spilling himself inside of you.

As Aegon removed his fingers from your husband's throat, Aemond leaned over you, his cock still buried deep inside you.

"Open up, baby," he said before spitting directly into your mouth, a mixture of his saliva and Aegon's cum evident on your tongue. You swallowed with a contented hum.

Aemond pulled himself out of you and got up quickly.

You curled up in the bed next to Aegon, Aemond’s seed seeping out of you onto the sheets, sleep finding you almost immediately.

“She can stay here for the night,” Aemond said as he leaned down to kiss your sweat-drenched forehead.

Aegon frowned at his brother.

“Aemond, we cannot make her leave,” he rasped, desperation clear in his voice.

“I think she needs to leave now more than ever, brother. To ensure nothing like this ever happens again.”

A loud sigh escaped Aegon’s lips as he diverted his gaze from Aemond to you, pushing your hair out of your face, admiring your beauty.

“Enjoy your time with her tonight. She will be on her way to Dorne by morning.”