#tom glynn carney drabble

[ohstardust]

tom glynn-carney masterlist

Everything with an asterisk (*) are shorter ‘imagines’ or blurbs.

☆ STANDALONES ☆

↳ Riptide ↳ Figure My Heart Out ↳ Can I Be Close To You? ↳ How Close Is Close Enough? ↳ Are We Gonna Finish What We Started? ↳ Feign Ignorance

Seeing as my TGC fics have been gaining some major traction recently, here’s my little masterlist for him!

Updated: 2nd January 2023

[aemondfairy]

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

[br0kenangel]

“𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎 𝒶ℯℊℴ𝓃 𝓍 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇”

“𝒮ℯℯ𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓃ℊ 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ”

The first time you saw him, the gardens were bathed in the soft golden light of late afternoon. You were gathering herbs for your potions, the fragrant leaves and flowers filling your basket. The quiet of the garden was interrupted by a rustling sound, and you looked up to see a tiny figure stumbling through the bushes. There he was, little Aegon, his silvery hair catching the sunlight like a halo. He had just started learning how to walk, his steps wobbly and uncertain. His tiny hands reached out to steady himself on the tall stalks of flowers as he made his way toward you. You sighed, a bit annoyed at the interruption. "Go away, little one," you muttered, waving your hand dismissively. "I'm busy." But the little prince was undeterred. He looked at you with wide, curious eyes, then tottered forward, his chubby legs working hard to close the distance. He tripped on a root and fell, but quickly pushed himself back up, determined to reach you. You huffed in exasperation and turned back to your herbs, pretending to ignore him. "Shoo, go find your nursemaid," you said, hoping he would lose interest and wander off. Instead, Aegon toddled right up to you and clung to your skirt with surprising strength. "Up!" he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and determination. You looked down at him, your annoyance melting away as you saw the earnest look on his face. His violet eyes were bright with trust, and his small hands clung to your skirt as if he never wanted to let go. You couldn't help but smile. "Oh, all right," you said, bending down to scoop him up. "But just for a moment, mind you." As soon as you lifted him, Aegon wrapped his arms around your neck and buried his face in your shoulder, his giggles vibrating against your skin. His small body was warm and surprisingly comforting. "You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you?" you murmured, rubbing his back gently. He just laughed and nuzzled closer, making happy little sounds. You carried him over to a nearby tree and sat down, letting him settle in your lap. He looked up at you with a beaming smile, then pointed to a butterfly fluttering nearby. "Fly!" "Yes, a butterfly," you said, feeling a strange warmth in your heart. "It's very pretty, isn't it?" Aegon nodded, his eyes following the butterfly's every move. Then he looked back at you and patted your cheek with his small hand. "You p'etty." You couldn't help but laugh at that. "Flattery will get you everywhere, little prince." He giggled again, clearly delighted by your reaction. For a moment, you just sat there, holding him and enjoying the simple pleasure of his company. It was a small, unexpected moment of joy that made you realize how precious this little boy was.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[written-in-flowers]

Aegon ii Targaryen x niece reader where it's like Damon and Rhaenyra, Aegon and reader go to a brothel but they actually fuck and now they have to marry but there okay with it because they love eachother?

Molding and Shaping

Warnings: incest, slight dub-con, virgin!reader, slight dumbification(?) or allusions to it in the future, somnophilia, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, no protection, manipulation, cock-warming, power-dynamic, older/younger dynamic, 

***

He found you laying in one of the brothel’s private rooms. He’d lost you ages ago during a trip into the city, and spent a good stretch of it looking for you. Aegon knew his mother would flay him alive if he returned without you at his side. Rhaenyra already coveted her daughter so much; if she should have gone missing on her uncle’s watch, he’d never hear the end of it. So, rather than bury himself in wine cups and whores, he’s been searching for you. A man whom he often gambled with in a tavern up the street said he’d seen someone of your description wandering through the Street of Silk. 

Perhaps you hoped to find him here, in the Flower Garden, an establishment known to have the finest maidens in King’s Landing?

Or, you hoped he might find you there, vulnerable and oblivious to his presence?

Aegon’s body grew warm seeing you laying on a cot in an empty room. The madam told him she’d taken pity on you, and let you sleep quietly in one of the private rooms. A small room, the walls draped in red and gold curtains, he saw the plush furniture and amenities the place offered. He spotted small vials of different scented oils on a table near the bed, a comfortable mattress with red and white sheets, and his mind began to turn. 

For as long as he could remember, your uncle desired you. He watched you grow from an annoying, whiny brat into a blossoming young woman who made him hard in a single glance. Aegon needed to have you, but he knew his sister would never willingly agree to a marriage. She most likely planned on giving you to Jace, your brother, but he refused to let that happen. Rhaenyra took much from him, and he planned on taking you from her. Aegon spent most of his teen years flirting and seducing you. He knew you felt the same. He knew because he still thinks about the time he cornered you at Driftmark, tugged down his trousers and convinced you to stroke him. He thought about your soft hand sliding up and down his length, sending shivers of pleasure over him while people feasted right on the balcony above you. Aegon continued small trists like this, slowly bringing you to him with promises of undying love and devotion mingled with passionate kisses and touches. You were a lonely girl with very few friends to guide you. You were perfect for molding.  

Aegon started carefully removing his clothes. He couldn’t avoid the arousal stirring in him. You’d worn your peasant clothes tonight. A cloth and linen gown that cinched at your waist sat over a chair, and he saw your corset beside it, so you only wore your small clothes on the bed. He could make out the shape of your breasts underneath the chemise; the thin fabric rode up around your thighs as you tossed over to one side, your bottom exposed to him. He’d be gentle. You saw his cock plenty of times over the years, but he rarely saw your body. Mostly because your family lived on Dragonstone and had not visited in years. But, the times you had met, you often pleasured him. 

He finished undressing and slowly walked over to the bed and sat down. You didn’t stir at the shift in the bed, so he took that to be a good thing. Carefully, he reached over to the collection of oils, finding one that smell of coconuts, and dripped it onto his fingertips. He then gently applied it between your thighs. He bit his lip at the feeling of your soft folds on his fingertips. The oil made it easier for him to move around, wetting your pussy and touching on your clit. He sometimes lowered his hand to your thighs for a soft squeeze, before running back up to your bottom. He gave the one cheek he could touch another tender grip. He’d have you tonight whether you knew it or not. Aegon’s cock started to harden touching your parts: he slid his oiled fingers back over your pussy slowly, and even spat on them to make it slippery. Visions of this tight heat around his cock, squeezing and milking him, made his jaw drop. You’re temptation personified. You’re the one thing he can’t have but desperately wanted. 

“Mmmhm,” he heard you stir in your bed, “Uncle...”

“Shush,” he quieted you gently, watching your pussy glisten in the candlelight. You said it so sweetly, so innocently. “Just relax for me, Princess. I’ll do the rest.”

“Uncle...it tingles.”

“It’s supposed to, love.”

He loved it when you played innocent. You spread yourself a bit further out, and Aegon took advantage of the access. He smiled at the soft gasp you made once he slid a finger inside. Yes, just as tight as he thought. Your walls clenched at the intrusion, the slippery digit massaging against them as he curled inside. He watched you clutch the pillows as his fingered you. Your low whimpers made his cock twitch; the feeling of your pussy clutching his fingers caused him to bite his lower lip. Gods, you were perfect. He often had to pay extra for maidens. He once bought a girl at auction. But even those common girls paled in comparison to your sweet, untouched, virginal cunt. Aegon knew nobody ever touched you this way before. He could tell by how easily your pussy spread for him. You’ll be his by the end of the night. Nobody will be able to take you away; not Rhaenyra, not Daemon, not his mother and especially not his corpse of a father. 

Aegon chuckled at the sound you made when he pulled out his finger. “Don’t worry, pet,” he said into your ear, rolling his fingers over your clit once more, “You’re going to get something much better soon.”

“Two fingers?” you asked shyly. 

“No, sweetling,” he laughed, kissing right at the edge of your ear, “Something bigger and longer than my fingers. I think you’re really going to like it.” He kissed down from your ear to your neck, then to your shoulder. “Stay still,” he said when he noticed your grinding into his fingers, “And let me enjoy your cunt.” 

He felt the hard pearl of your clit brush on his fingers, and you shuddered. Aegon continued running it between his fingers, rubbing over and under it every so often to hear you moan. Finally, a pussy he didn’t need to pay for. It’d be all his. If he takes your maidenhead, his family will have no choice but to marry you both to avoid scandal. Then, your body would be his to do what he liked. He couldn’t possibly wait. The tip of his cock began hitting his stomach as he leaned down to rub your clit with his other hand. While he pumped two fingers inside you, he circled right on the nub that sent sparks through your body, causing you to jolt each time. Your heat pulled his fingers fully inside you, fluttering and coating them in your juices. 

“Uncle,” you moaned, tugging down the neckline of your chemise underneath your breasts, “Please, go faster.”

“Faster?” he said, eyeing your bare breast from the side. He groaned watching you start pinching and grazing your nipples. 

“Yes, please.”

He moved his fingers faster. He wriggled them inside and continued teasing your clit until you were shaking in his grasp. Aegon groaned at the squirt of juices covering his hand. God, you squirt. He loved that. He continued fingering you even after you’d finished making a mess, unable to stop himself from giving you another orgasm. He sensed you must be overstimulated, since you squirmed around every time he brushed your sensitive clit. Keeping you on your side, Aegon finally withdrew his fingers. He pressed them to your lips, moaning when you sucked them. Relief finally sparked when he pushed his spongy tip to your pussy. Your body immediately spread your cum over his tip. He ran the head over your throbbing clitoris, letting his length side between your thighs to wet his shaft. This slight teasing drove you wild. He watched you grind into his cock, whimpering incoherently about him putting it inside you. 

“If I take your virginity, Princess,” he said, prodding your entrance with the head, “I will cum inside you.” It was not a fact. It was a promise. “I will fill you with my seed. I will keep filling you over and over until you’re pregnant with my child.” 

Then your mother has no choice. He liked the idea of you round, swollen and carrying his baby. Aegon did not particularly want children or to be married, in fact. He simply liked the idea of you holding his child. He smiled imagining his sister’s face whenever you walk by, heavily pregnant, and remember who put it in you. 

“Please, Uncle,” you moaned out the title, a word you used so innocently but which caused him so much arousal, “Fuck me.” 

“Fuck you?” he questioned coyly, still teasing you, “Not ‘make love’? Not ‘take me’? Do you wish for me to fuck you, little bird?” 

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get.”

He aligned himself with your entrance, then slowly sunk himself into you. Your eye widened at the length and girth stretching you, possibly breaking your maidenhead and causing slight bits of pain. Aegon did not particularly care. The pleasure surging inside his loins made him blind to all sense. Your pussy felt unreal. He’d taken plenty of virgins; he’d rammed himself deep into whores from dawn until dusk, yet yours was so much sweeter. Aegon straddled one thigh, holding the other up and pounded deep into you. Each moan came in a small squeak, still adjusting to his size in spite of the gradual pace. He looked down to his thickness forcing you open; your pussy gripped him tightly, and he couldn’t help being mesmerized by it. He pictured himself fucking this hole constantly. He’d fuck you everywhere and anywhere: his bed chambers, his mother’s apartments, your mother’s apartments, Aemond’s bed (for laughs), and maybe even the throne room. His wild fantasies filled with you riding his cock right on that stupid, ugly chair everyone wants so badly. Your tits bouncing as they did now in each thrust; you moaning his name and pleading for more even when you’d finished. You’ll be his pretty, dumb cocksleeve; his little sex slave who will do anything to satisfy him. 

“Such a good pet,” he growled in your ear, the new angle making your eyes roll back. He grabbed you by the throat, forcing you to stay fully still as he pounded your cunt. “Taking my big cock so well and being so good for me. Don’t worry about anything. You stay right here and be a good whore for me...a pretty, dumb, silly little whore...”

And that you did. Aegon watched with satisfaction and amazement when you climaxed a second time. He loved how you clawed at the pillows and sheets; you held them bundled up against your body for a shred to hang onto. Aegon withdrew to see a small sliver of pink mix in with the cum streaming from the tip of his cock. You'd bled. More dropped onto the sheet he used to wipe it. He could’ve cummed just from that alone, but no, he wanted more.

"Ride me," he said, laying on the bed and bringing you with him. He laid there to watch you straddle his hips and sit there. "Well?"

"I...Uncle, it hurts..."

"I know it does, pet," he cooed, running his hands on your thighs, "But it's supposed to. It'll start to feel better soon. Now, get on my cock like a good girl."

You grabbed his shaft and guided him into you, moaning as he impaled you. Aegon groaned at the pulsating heat swallowing him. He gazed down to see your clit rubbing on him, the friction making you grind on him gently. He allowed you to go whatever speed you liked for a while, content to enjoy your hot pussy instead. He grabbed at your tits in the meantime, cupping and palming them as much as he could. Hard nipples poked at his palms, and he pinched them tenderly. The additional pleasure caused you to start bouncing. The sound of skin on skin broke him, and he began bucking his hips to meet yours. He knew your insides would ache in the morning, but he did not fully care. He'd fallen too into his desires to care.

Soon, Aegon tightened his grip on your breasts, hearing a soft moan of pain as he came. As promised, Aegon pumped every drop he could deep inside you. Trembling, his eyes fell closed as he savored your pussy shuddering around him again. He didn’t stop until his cock softened, still twitching somewhat at the stimulation, and you finished cumming over him. Aegon did not pull out. He rolled you onto your side, lifted your leg over his to keep your bodies together, and held you. Under the glow of your orgasms, you rested in his arms. He pushed hair from your face, kissing your cheeks, nose, and lips and muttering praises. 

“You did so well, pet,” he muttered, kissing your lips. “You took it all like a big girl and made me so proud of you.” 

You smiled brightly, “Don’t pull out of me, Uncle. Please. Not yet.”

“I wasn’t planning to, sweetling,” he replied. “I told you. I want to keep filling you.” 

He’d let you relax for a while before having you again. Aegon won’t stop until he is sure you’re pregnant. If you prove not to be, then you have the rest of your lives to do so. Idly, he spent a good while kissing and caressing your body while stuffed in you. As he slipped out, admiring the thick substance spilling from your hole, he looked over to the doorway. Behind the shadow of the curtain, he spotted a small street urchin watching them. He smirked at the boy before he scurried off. A spy. One of Otto’s? One of Larys Strong’s? He didn’t care. The more people who knew about it, the better his chances will be. Aegon began kissing and nibbling your breasts as he imagined his sister hearing about this treachery. The victory felt too sweet. 

****

“Aegon, how could you? How could you be so blind? To do this? To do this to her?”

For once, Aegon was not bothered by his mother’s tears or fury. He watched with a sly smirk as she raged in front of him. The boy must’ve been Larys Strong’s spy after all, since it’d been her who approached him first. She’d come into his bed chamber, ripping the covers from his body and tearfully confronting him. He worried she might have gone to you first, giving you moontea and killing any chance of a child. But, that did not matter. He’d taken your virginity, which in a society like theirs, made you worthless to anyone who’d want you. 

“What were you thinking?” she asked him. “With her? You do understand that Rhaenyra favors her daughter immensely, and will take this as a slight on her and her family. You’ve spoiled her for any potential matches.” 

He almost told her you weren’t innocent either, and had asked him to do it, but he refrained. “I was thinking about my family.”

“Your family?” she huffed. “How is bedding your niece thinking of your family?”

“In order to avoid any more scandals and rumors,” he began, “Rhaenyra will have to agree to a marriage between our house and theirs. She loves Y/N. She adores her. If I’m married to her daughter, who is over the moon about me, then when she ascends the throne, she won’t execute us all.”

Aegon knows there are many flaws in his plan, but that did not matter. Rhaenyra’s always been his father’s favorite child. He’s willfully blinded himself to her treasons, and always came to her rescue whenever a problem arose. He showed time and time again that he cared more about her than the rest of his children. Aegon knows he’ll never be king, and he doesn’t want to be king, but he’d once wanted acceptance. He’d once wanted his father’s love. The night he realized he’d never have it, he decided if Rhaenyra can take things from him and his brother, he can certainly take things from her. Such as her pretty little daughter. By the time Rhaenyra saw her daughter again, she’ll be completely under Aegon’s control and influence. 

You’ll belong to him. 

****

A/N: this ended up a lot darker than I originally intended, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope you enjoyed it too!! <3 

[misswynters]

Hidden between takes (drabble)

Ewan mitchell x gn!reader

[a/n: tom glynn-carney also appears (my boy), ik it’s similar to the other one however this in has tom glynn-carney🩷

similar | off screen story

Ewan and you have been a couple for quite some time, having met each other at the set a film. As the dimly lit corridors of the set provided the perfect cover for stolen moments. You leaned against the cool stone wall, heart racing as you waited. The familiar sound of footsteps grew closer, and a shadowy figure emerged from around the corner."Ewan," you breathed, a smile tugging at your lips.

He grinned, his eyes lighting up as he closed the distance between you. "Hey, you."

Ewan pulled you into a quick but intense kiss, his hands cupping your face gently. The risk of being caught only added to the excitement of these secret rendezvous. You both knew the stakes were high—being co-stars meant keeping your relationship under wraps to avoid media frenzy and potential complications on set.

"I've missed you," Ewan murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

"I've missed you too," you replied, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "It feels like forever since we've had a moment alone."

He nodded, his expression softening. "It's been too long. But tonight, I have something special planned for us."

Before you could respond, the sound of voices echoed down the hall. Ewan stepped back, his demeanor shifting to professional in an instant. You quickly composed yourself, just in time for Tom Glynn-Carney to appear, a friendly smile on his face.

"Hey, there you are!" Tom greeted, glancing between you and Ewan. "I was looking for you both. Ready for the next scene?"

"Of course," you said, forcing a casual tone as you exchanged a quick glance with Ewan. "Let's go."

The three of you walked back to the set, the weight of your secret relationship hanging heavily between you and Ewan. As the scene unfolded, you found it increasingly difficult to focus. Tom's character was supposed to be your love interest on-screen, and playing those romantic scenes while your real feelings were directed at Ewan was a constant challenge.

Between takes, Tom approached you with a concerned expression. "You alright? You seem a bit distracted."

You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "I'm fine, just a bit tired. It's been a long day."

He nodded, still looking slightly unconvinced. "If you need a break, just let me know. I can cover for you."

"Thanks, Tom. I appreciate it," you replied, genuinely touched by his kindness.

The day dragged on, each scene feeling like an eternity. By the time filming wrapped up, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. As you packed up your things, Ewan caught your eye from across the set, giving you a subtle nod. You knew what it meant—your special night awaited.

Later, in the privacy of Ewan's trailer, the tension melted away. He had set up a small picnic, complete with your favorite foods and a bottle of wine. Soft music played in the background, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere.

"This is perfect," you said, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you settled next to Ewan.

He smiled, his hand finding yours. "I'm glad you like it. I thought we could use a little escape from everything."

As you enjoyed the evening together, you couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments. Being with Ewan made all the secrecy and complications worthwhile. You shared stories, laughter, and dreams for the future, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

Eventually, you found yourself lying in his arms, the warmth of his embrace making you feel safe and loved. "I wish we didn't have to hide," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Ewan replied, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But we'll figure it out. As long as we're together, we can handle anything."

You nodded, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to savor the comfort of his presence. For now, you would cherish these hidden secrets, finding solace in the moments you could steal away from prying eyes. And with Ewan by your side, you knew that love would always find a way.

[aemondwhoresworld]

ELOWEN’S SECOND VISIT

a drabble & part of: y/n, ewan and elowen mitchell

summary: elowen returns to the house of the dragon set with you and ewan, eagerly awaiting a reunion with her favorite “uncle” tom glynn-carney. while it’s her second visit, the experience is just as magical as the first, filled with love, warmth, and playful interactions with the cast. elowen’s bright energy lights up the set as she bonds with the actors and crew, especially her beloved uncle tom.

warning: english is not my first language. pure fluff, contains overwhelming amounts of cuteness.

Elowen’s excitement was palpable from the moment you mentioned she’d be visiting the set of House of the Dragon again. Her little feet barely touched the ground as she bounced around the house, eyes wide with anticipation. She clutched the small dragon plushie Ewan had given her from the last visit and couldn’t stop asking when she’d see “Uncle Tom” again. Tom Glynn-Carney, the actor who played Aegon Targaryen, had quickly become her favorite after their first meeting, much to Ewan’s playful chagrin.

You smiled as you gathered her things, watching as she practically danced around the living room in excitement. Ewan, already dressed and ready to go, leaned against the doorway with a grin, arms crossed. “She’s more excited than the first time,” he noted, glancing at you with a wink.

“I think it’s Uncle Tom’s doing,” you teased, shaking your head.

Ewan chuckled. “Of course it is. She’s his biggest fan.”

With Elowen finally ready and everything packed, the three of you made your way to the car. The entire drive to the set was filled with Elowen’s chatter about dragons, knights, and her favorite “pretend uncles.” She even hummed the House of the Dragon theme song as you drove, occasionally asking how much longer until she got to see Tom. You and Ewan exchanged amused glances but couldn’t help but get swept up in her enthusiasm.

When you finally arrived on set, Elowen’s excitement only intensified. The massive castle walls, dark banners, and smoke from the props made everything feel larger than life. Ewan lifted her onto his shoulders, giving her a better view of the bustling scene below. As the cast and crew went about their work, Elowen waved happily, her little hands high in the air.

“Look, Mommy! Daddy!” she exclaimed, pointing toward the familiar sight of the dragons on set. “Dragons!”

“Yes, sweetheart,” you laughed, resting a hand on Ewan’s arm. “But we’re here for someone else too, remember?”

At that moment, a voice called out behind you, one that Elowen immediately recognized. “Is that my favorite little Targaryen?” Tom Glynn-Carney strode over, a broad smile on his face. He was dressed in his regal Aegon attire, which only added to the magic in Elowen’s eyes.

“Uncle Tom!” Elowen squealed, wriggling in Ewan’s arms until he set her down. Without missing a beat, she darted toward Tom, who crouched down just in time to catch her in a big hug.

“Well, hello there, princess,” Tom chuckled, lifting her up and spinning her around gently, much to her delight. “I’ve missed you!”

Elowen giggled, clutching her dragon plushie tightly in one hand while resting her head on his shoulder. “I missed you too, Uncle Tom! Can we play dragons today?”

Tom feigned deep thought, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm… I think I can make that happen.” He glanced at you and Ewan with a playful grin. “Mind if I steal her for a bit?”

Ewan, ever the protective father, crossed his arms with a mock-serious expression. “Only if you promise to return her in one piece.”

“Deal,” Tom laughed, holding Elowen up like she was flying. “Come on, princess, let’s find some dragons.”

As Tom carried Elowen toward the set, a few other cast members noticed and waved. Emma D’Arcy, who played Rhaenyra, approached with a warm smile. “Well, if it isn’t our little visitor again,” they said, their eyes lighting up as they saw Elowen.

“Hi!” Elowen waved back enthusiastically from Tom’s arms, clearly enjoying all the attention.

Emma ruffled her hair gently. “How have you been? Are you ready to see more dragons today?”

Elowen nodded eagerly. “Yes! And I’m gonna fly with Uncle Tom!”

“Is that so?” Emma chuckled, glancing at Tom. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full today, Aegon.”

Tom smirked. “What can I say? I’m a popular uncle.”

You and Ewan stood back, watching the scene unfold with smiles. It was heartwarming to see how much love the cast had for your daughter. They didn’t treat her like a simple visitor—she was family. You noticed Matt Smith, who played Daemon, walking over next, his hands casually tucked into his costume pockets.

“Well, well, well,” Matt drawled with a smirk. “Look who’s stealing the show again.” He winked at Elowen, who beamed in response.

“Uncle Matt!” she giggled, clearly having assigned honorary “uncle” titles to all of Ewan’s co-stars.

Matt gave a mock bow. “At your service, princess. What mischief are you getting up to today?”

Before Elowen could answer, Tom chimed in, “Flying dragons, of course.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Flying dragons, huh? Sounds dangerous. You’d better keep an eye on her, Aegon. She might take over the throne if you’re not careful.”

Elowen, ever quick to play along, puffed out her chest proudly. “I’m gonna be the queen of dragons!”

“That’s the spirit,” Matt grinned, offering her a high-five.

As the day went on, Elowen explored the set with Tom, her eyes wide in wonder as she watched the actors rehearse scenes and the crew work behind the scenes. She was particularly fascinated by the dragons—especially when Tom lifted her up so she could “fly” with them. You and Ewan followed closely behind, content to let her enjoy every moment of the magic around her.

At one point, Tom knelt beside her, pointing out one of the large dragon props being prepped for a scene. “Think you could ride that one someday?”

Elowen, with all the confidence of a true dragon queen, nodded. “I could! I’m not scared!”

Tom smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “That’s because you’re the bravest little Targaryen I know.”

The rest of the visit was filled with laughter, warmth, and joy as Elowen soaked up the love and attention from the cast and crew. Even between takes, actors would come over to say hello, some offering small props for her to play with, while others asked about her day. It was clear that she’d become the little darling of the set.

As the day drew to a close, and you and Ewan prepared to head home, Elowen clung to Tom’s leg, not wanting to leave. “Do I have to go, Uncle Tom?”

Tom knelt down, looking at her with a soft smile. “You’ve got to come back soon, though, alright? You’re our good luck charm.”

Elowen nodded solemnly, and Tom gave her one more big hug before setting her down gently. “I’ll miss you, princess,” he said, his voice warm.

“I’ll miss you too,” Elowen replied, her eyes already sleepy from the excitement of the day.

As the three of you walked back to the car, with Elowen happily nestled in Ewan’s arms, you glanced back at the set one last time. It was amazing how much love and warmth surrounded your little family there. What started as just another workday had become a cherished memory, filled with laughter and love.

Elowen’s second visit to the set was, without a doubt, a magical one—and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

[r0ugesun]

- anon

"this is pure cheese 😭" – tom glynn-carney, but how do you think Aemond Targaryen meeting Paul Atreides meeting would go down? can be a blurb, headcanons and/or drabble, it's just that this has been in my head ever since i saw a post of them together (can't remember which acc and whether it was on tiktok or here!!) and i am desperate to see someone write this!!

(if you don't write for Paul Atreides please ignore my request, i understand you have lists for specific characters so you don't get bombarded with asks of a ga-zillion people x)

“I want you to put out your eye”

“May thy knife chip and shatter”

Omgg two fierce warriors Paul and Aemond how would a meeting between them go?? in the intricate dance of war and power, trust is as fleeting as the sands of Arrakis or the tides of Dragonstone 🫣

The grand hall was a marvel of architecture, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and its walls lined with banners from various noble houses.

Representatives gathered under the vast dome, voices murmuring as they discussed alliances and political strategies.

Aemond Targaryen strode into the hall, his presence commanding immediate attention. Clad in dark, regal attire, his eyepatch added to his intimidating appearance. His icy blue eye scanned the room with a keen, calculating gaze, stopping when he noticed a figure standing with an air of calm authority.

Paul Atreides stood tall among the delegates, his distinctive House Atreides garb marking him as someone of importance. His blue eyes seemed to almost glow in the light, a result of prolonged exposure to the spice, locked onto Aemond with an intensity that matched the Targaryen's own.

Aemond approached, his steps measured and purposeful. The room seemed to quiet as the two heirs to powerful houses stood face to face for the first time.

"Paul Atreides" Aemond began, his voice low and measured. "Lisan al gaib, they call you."

Paul inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his voice equally calm. "Aemond Targaryen. I've heard much about you, your ferocity in battle and your relentless pursuit of power."

Aemond's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "We are sons to powerful houses. Yet, your path has been one of prophecy, while I've forged my own destiny through blood and fire."

Paul's eyes remained steady, his expression unreadable. "Prophecy is a guide. But it's the choices Pve made that made me who l am. You seek power for your house, as do I. Perhaps there is more common ground between us than we realize."

Aemond's gaze narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features. "Common ground? Or merely a temporary alliance until one of us finds a way to eliminate the other?"

Paul's lips curved into a slight smile. "trust is a rare commodity in war. But there is a greater threat that looms over us both. A fragile alliance, but one that could serve us well."

Paul's lips curved into a slight smile. "trust is a rare commodity in war. But there is a greater threat that looms over us both. A fragile alliance, but one that could serve us well."

Aemond paused, considering Paul's words. He could see the wisdom in them, even if he didn't entirely trust the source. Finally, he gave a curt nod. "For now, I stand with you. But remember, Atreides, I do not trust easily."

"Nor do I, Targaryen" Paul replied, his voice steady.

[dontforgetoctober3rd]

Life Eternal

This is an HOTD fanfic based off *another* fanfic, Second Sons by @avengingangelfanfic

The order I highly recommend reading in is Second Sons first (might take you a while, as it clocks in at well over 500K words!) and then reading my drabble prologue here:

Lastly, you can proceed with the story in THIS post!

Disclaimer: The events in this fic are NOT canon to the canon events of AvengingAngel's story! It was just an idea bouncing around and I asked for permission, which was graciously given, to put it in words. Gif credits are in the gifs themselves, except for the still image of King Edward, which is a screengrab from TLK.

Summary: Set 44 years after the initial events of Second Sons, Daemon Targaryen, son of Aemond and Lyanna, struggles to find his way due to his parents' fame. Who will he go to first in order to solve this problem?

Faceclaims: Daemon (Aemond as portrayed by Ewan Mitchell, except without the missing eye and his hair in a single ponytail)

Royce Baratheon (King Edward from The Last Kingdom, as portrayed by Timothy Innes)

Alphonse Baratheon (Osferth from The Last Kingdom, as portrayed by Ewan Mitchell)

King Jacaerys (Aragorn as portrayed by Viggo Mortensen)

Aegon II and Helaena (Tom Glynn-Carney and Phia Saban, but just imagine them way older!)

Word Count: 4400

Rating: T (mentions of death, mentions of violence)

----------------------------------------

In the first 25 years of the reign of Rhaenyra, the People’s Queen, Westeros enjoyed unprecedented peace and prosperity.  Save for the usual disputes between great houses over old wounds, the staving off of pirates who got too bold every couple of years, and the hard winter of 140 AC,those first 25 years were considered the Golden Age of the Seven Kingdoms.

It seemed once the new queen made short work of the extremist Faith Militant and the Flameborn in House Targaryen were revealed, no other major enemy desired a dance with the dragons who sat the Iron Throne.

Such a difference to the tragic years shortly following the birth of Prince Aemond and Princess Lyanna’s 7th child, Daemon.  Before the terrible times of turmoil, let us tell of this last instance of happiness for The Dragon Blade and his Princess of Hearts.  

The much beloved son came after 6 equally loved daughters: Catelyn, the eldest and born in the midst of the Crown’s battle against the Faith Militant, Laena, second and named for her grandsire’s second wife and Queen Baela’s mother, Alicent,their third, named for her father’s mother and who grew to share Prince Aemond’s love of books, Alyssa came fourth, named for her great-grandmother, followed by a fifth daughter, Daenys, who together with Alyssa stuck to her elder sister Alicent like a shadow.  A sixth child, seemingly the last (for it was 7 years after the birth of Daenys that this occurred and following this birth, it would be ten years before Princess Lyanna’s womb would quicken again, everyone of the mind that she was going through her change of no longer being fertile) turned out to be another daughter, whose name was decided upon to be Rhaenys. 

“By your leave,  we have decided to name her Rhaenys.” Prince Aemond had famously told The Queen Who Never Was, upon his arrival at Driftmark.  He had taken up the habit of flying upon Vhagar to announce the births of his children to the lords and ladies of various houses. 

So it was when Princess Lyanna brought forth a son.  While she stayed in King’s Landing with the King Consort and Queen positively preening with pride over their latest grandson, Prince Aemond flew to the great houses his daughters had married into: Caswell (for Laena), Umber (Daenys), and lastly Baratheon (his eldest, Catelyn, had married Lord Royce).  Two of his daughters, Alicent and Alyssa, had married Aegon II’s sons, Maelor and Valerion, respectively. They resided in the red keep with the rest of the family, seeing to the celebrations.  King’s Landing was full of joy, its citizens celebrating yet another dragon born.

No one could predict the absolute horror that was to come, the calamity that would begin with the murder of her grace Queen Rhaenyra and her Lord Hand and husband, King Consort Daemon, in the city of Braavos.  

No ravens came but a messenger on a ship arrived with a barebones crew to deliver the horrible news.  Braavos would have been burned to the ground by command of the newly made King Jacaerys, had his fury not been assuaged by the Dragon Blade.

Prince Aemond, having been made Hand of The King in the war council immediately following the news, felt the matter stank of outside forces plotting against Braavos.  The city and its holdings  had always been friendly with the crown, had sent much needed aid during the hard winter, always paid tariffs when in Westeros’ ports instead of covertly trying to weasel out of them and all the sea lords had immediately condemned the murder.  What’s more, Caraxes and Syrax had not attacked the city.  The two dragons instead flew to Mereen and began setting that city aflame before being fended off by canons, spears and all manner of debris being flung at them with catapults.  They did not immediately return to Dragonstone or King’s Landing, only appearing later at the deciding battle of the upcoming conflict.  It was not long after the war council that the White Worm came to King Jacaery’s court with the information she had been tasked to uncover the moment messenger’s had informed House Targaryen of the killings.

So the ravens flew from the Red Keep all over Westeros: Rhaenyra, Queen of The Seven Kingdoms, and her husband Daemon, King Consort, were dead by orders of Khal Drogo, self-styled king of Slaver’s Bay.  Khal Drogo was determined to be the Stallion Who Mounts The World, and only House Targaryen had any hope of standing against his mighty army of giants, wizards and slaves.

It seemed that King Jacaerys, who history would come to know as Jacaerys the Defender, would have his mettle as a ruler first tested by this tyrant.  A funeral was held for his late mother and stepfather, the much loved Queen and King, their bodies having been delivered personally by a council of sealords from Braavos.

The funeral procession was a most heart wrenching sight.  Flowers were tossed as the bodies passed by.  The smallfolk wept and wailed.  Even the guards had visible streams of tears flowing from their faces.

Saddest of all was the procession of the new King and Queen’s family.  King Jacaerys and Queen Baela steadily walked by, their bodies rigid and faces like stone.  Crown Prince Aemon followed, tear tracks clear on his face, his eyes full of fire and looking determined for revenge.  The Lord and Lady of Driftmark, Lucerys and Rhaena Velaryon, came after, followed by Aegon II holding steady Princess Helaena, all their children following.

Prince Aemond and Princess Lyanna had fallen behind with Lord Rick Tully, they struggled with him to comfort and raise up Lady Alicent Tully, who had collapsed on the path and was screaming with intense sorrow.  The people of King’s Landing could only watch in sadness as Aemond, Lyanna and Rick took to kneeling on the ground, attempting to get a hysterical Alicent to stand and walk. Her words were heard by all nearby.

“Don’t make me do it!  Please, gods, don’t make me do it!! I cannot I cannot do it please do not make me-”

—-------

Daemon Targaryen closed the history book.  It was looking to be yet another disappointment in what he was searching for, as was every book and scroll that talked of his late parents.  He had read so many that by now he could predict how the maesters, septas and scholars would choose to portray his mother and father: in every way except as people.  Rubbing his temples and standing to search for another book in the library, he contemplated his next move.

It was always the same.  They were devoted to each other, moved and operated almost as one unit, songs were written of them, their words and actions immortalized on paper and stone, and yet…they felt like strangers to him.  He had lost them in the last battle of the war against Khal Drogo, when he was but a year old and King Jacaerys had afterwards issued a rather strange decree: no one was to talk to him of his parents until he came of age.

When he was a small boy, he did not see the reasoning for such a thing, but soon learned.  Prince Aemond and Princess Lyanna were akin to mythical deities for the people of King’s Landing and all throughout the seven kingdoms, second in popularity only to the People’s Queen herself, Rhaenyra.  King Jacaerys did not want Daemon to grow up under the pressure of living up to them.  Though they were all aware of the decree, it didn’t stop little comments constantly peppered into Daemon’s interactions with the smallfolk.

In his growing years, he didn't understand them. As a teenager, it got infuriating.  Daily, as he walked about the city, he was always told he was his father reborn.  Many would add that he may be his father in looks but his heart was all his mother’s.  His own wants, his own ambitions, his own words even, were continually dismissed as people would try to prod him into acting like his parents, people he never knew. His cousin, the King, suddenly did not seem so unwise with his decree.  Had it been obeyed fully, Daemon guessed he could have grown up not feeling so inadequate.  He used to hate it at first, resent it, this constant shadow of his parents ever looming over him everywhere he went.

Now, a couple of weeks past his 19th nameday, he finally felt a desire to know them as a son should.  His sisters, far older than he, were not much help.  Daenys and Laena lived away from the Red Keep, their own holds to rule along with their husbands and own families to look after.  Alicent was always busy either with her namesake library or their grandsire Daemon’s university, Alyssa ever at her side.  Rhaenys had married into House Stark some years ago, far too remote to regularly converse with even by raven. 

Catelyn Baratheon and her husband Lord Royce were the ones he was closest to, despite them having approximately 30 some years on him, their eldest son Alphonse his dearest friend.  Ravens to and from Storm’s End were common, visits on dragonback frequent.  Daemon’s brilliant white dragon, Parthurnaax, enjoyed flying to Storm’s End to cavort with Caraxes, his grandsire’s old mount, who had been claimed by Alphonse. 

 Daemon shared a special bond with his slightly older nephew: save for the signature Baratheon brown hair, Alphonse had Aemond Targeryen’s face as well.

He understood the impossible comparisons to some degree but his parents insisted he shared only a face with his grandsire yet even they could not help but admit the truth when he had asked: though Alphonse had a softer version of the late Dragon Blade’s face, it was his son Daemon who had grown to be the very mirror of him (save for not having a missing eye himself).  

Alphonse and his uncle were quite close, as close as brothers would be, the result of having been fostered in King’s Landing until he came of age himself.  Alphonse had often found himself reassuring his uncle after a particularly bad day.  

“Let them talk.  Saying a thing does not make it so.  You are Daemon Targaryen, not Aemond the Dragon Blade.” Alphonse would say.

Catelyn, while never having an in depth discussion with Daemon about her own father and mother, as per King Jacaery’s decree, insisted that the stories told by the people and the histories written by maesters and septas would never come close to doing justice to the memory of Aemond and Lyanna.  Royce, who had also known them well, agreed.  Three years past, on Daemon’s 16th nameday, they both offered to sit and talk of them with him. 

Still in the throes of his frustrations of not being considered his own person, he had angrily refused with all the vehemence of a 16 year old determined they were the only one in the world feeling such anger.  Daemon had even refused to answer Catelyn’s ravens for a few months after.  Alphonse had tried to make peace with them but was unsuccessful until communications were initiated by Daemon himself again.

Now, at 19, it was Daemon who broached the subject once more.  One week since he had sent a raven and still no answer.  No matter.  There were periods of time when Catelyn took up to two weeks to respond, duties as Lady of Storm’s End keeping her busy.  Daemon was happy to wait, now that he was sure of what he wanted. 

—-------

Daemon did not have to wait long.  2 weeks after sending a raven, he was summoned by his cousin.

“His Grace, King Jacaerys, invites you to break your fast with him and Prince Aegon the Elder, my prince.” Ser Arryk informed him one morning, as he was just leaving his chambers.  Daemon knew it was not an invitation.  His presence was required.  Ever since his spat with Catelyn, despite having reconciled, he felt that the King remained short with him and it was best not to antagonize him by refusing an order.

He made his way to the vast family common balcony on a far end of the keep.  It offered the most expansive, amazing view of the city.  When he got there, Helaena was also present, she and Aegon milling about the smaller table full of food and transferring morsels to their own plates before seating themselves at the bigger table.  King Jacaerys, already seated at the head of it, laughed at something Aegon said.  Servants stood by the door but the atmosphere was relaxed.  So it was to be an informal meal…

“Cousin. Uncle.  Aunt.  A lovely morning, is it not?” he called out as he entered.  They all turned and he saw it, the look everyone always gave.  Like they thought for a moment that Aemond Targaryen stood before them until reality set in.  It was hard not to think that way for them, he supposed.  Daemon had grown his hair long as Targaryen men traditionally did but still snuck in a bit of defiance: instead of the half ponytail favored by his father in all paintings he saw of him, he kept his tresses tied back in a single, low ponytail.  

“Daemon.” Jacaerys said. “Come, I have a task for you.”  He motioned for him to sit in the chair across from Aegon and Helaena, who both smiled and nodded at his presence.

Daemon sat, taking a glass of wine offered by Helaena.  He faced the King.  “What is it?”

“Alphonse tells me Storm’s End has need of a dragon.  Him and your sister Catelyn are due in Braavos for a diplomatic trip on behalf of the Crown.  Lord Baratheon would appreciate your presence until they return.”  Jacaerys bit a piece of lamb off his fork as he finished speaking.

Daemon was confused for a moment.  “Did a raven come?  I wrote to Catelyn weeks ago and have not received a response.”

Aegon chuckled a bit.  “That is because Alphonse wrote to us on her behalf, since Catelyn was momentarily away with Royce, dealing with some border dispute.  Apparently they gave him leave to read their correspondence and when they got back they didn’t feel sending another raven was necessary…”

“It was the right decision, in the end.” Jacaerys put in. “Catelyn hasn’t the time right now to really give you the discussion of your parents that you deserve.  This trip is important.”  At this, Daemon snapped to attention. 

“I’m sorry, nephew. “ Helaena apologized.  “ We visited them on dragonback the other day.  Everyone is aware now, that you are ready to know the truth.” she said simply, as was often her way.  Daemon felt his cheeks burn.  Everyone?  Everyone knew his business?!  Catelyn would pay for this.  Alphonse too!

“You should leave as soon as possible.  Catelyn and Alphonse will take flight as soon as they see Parthurnaax in the skies.” Jacaerys continued.  “The groups causing trouble in their lands have been quelled and Lord Baratheon has more than enough men to keep it that way, but the presence of a dragon will ensure things remain peaceful.” 

Daemon said nothing, staring at his plate.  Helaena began talking, attempting to snuff out the tension brewing.  “Lord Baratheon loved your parents well, Daemon.  I’m sure he would be happy to talk about them with you until Catelyn returns.”  Still, Daemon said nothing.  Jacaerys took notice and put his fork and cup of wine down, looking to him.

“Nephew-”Aegon began, trying to diffuse the situation but Daemon cut in.

“All this blustering is unnecessary, Your Grace.” he said, the last two words laced with venom.  “Be direct with me: you are not sending me to assist Storm’s End.  Lord Baratheon needs help fending off raiders like my dragon needs help killing the sheep for his meals.” 

The servants tensed, Aegon and Helaena remained silent.  Jacaerys was now fuming but his voice remained calm.  “Cousin...what reason would I have to not be direct with you?” he asked in a silky, irritated voice.  He stared unflinchingly at Daemon, who stared back but seemed to second guess his decision to lash out.  He may be family, but Jacaerys was still King of all Westeros.  If Daemon were anyone else, he would surely be sleeping in the dungeons tonight for daring to speak in such a way in the King’s presence.

“I am not a child anymore.” Daemon said.  

“The fact has not escaped my notice, despite you currently having the attitude of one.” Jacaerys said.  “Come now, there's no need to be angry.  I am not using any pretext to send you off.  Your long awaited talk of your parents is merely a pleasant addition to your mission. Think of this as more a favor to me” his voice softening, Jacaerys continued. “I may be King but Vermax and I cannot be everywhere at once.  It would soothe my mind to know my coast remains under protection of a dragon.”

Quick as it had come, Daemon’s anger dissipated at the caring tone in his cousin’s voice.  Helaena reached out to hold his hand as Aegon spoke up.  

“We will certainly be happy to talk of your parents further with you when you come back.” Aegon said with a smile.  “No more sidestepping the subject, nephew.  You deserve to know them fully as we did and to love them as we all still do.”

Feeling he would cry if he spoke, Daemon merely nodded stiffly at them all and started to eat.  Jacaerys began to speak of the weather with Aegon and Helaena as if it were the most riveting topic, all of them pointedly ignoring Daemon’s silence.  He would speak to them again when he felt ready.

—-------

Of all days for Storm’s End to have clear skies and a shining sun, Lord Royce Baratheon thought it auspicious that it would be today.  His brother-in-law, Daemon, had arrived a few hours ago.  Royce happily greeted him in the courtyard despite the reserved demeanor that initially met him.  

“Brother, it is good to see you.” Daemon seemed jittery and restless.  Royce tactfully led him to his library and had refreshments brought.  It was best to just get on with it, Daemon had waited long enough.

“How are Catelyn and Alphonse?” Daemon asked, hands clasped behind his back as he paced the library, ignoring the lemon cakes and tea brought.  

Royce smiled, his hands clasped to his stomach.  “They are the same.” He took a lemon cake and nibbled at it.  “Catelyn infuriating with her winning of bets against me, her own lord husband.  Alphonse insists we arrange his marriage because talking to any maiden causes him to break out in a cold sweat and so making a match himself would be impossible, according to him.”

“He had gotten better at that, last I saw him.” Daemon chuckled.

“Has he?  I have yet to see such a thing.”

“Perhaps it is just the fact that he cannot do it under your eye?  He says you scare him.  Not in a way that you would mean him harm, but just the way you carry yourself.  As if you could achieve the greatest things in history.”

“I would hardly say talking to a maiden is one of the greatest things in history but your sister might become cross with me if she heard me giving voice to such an opinion.” Royce joked.  

Daemon laughed and the older man looked on fondly.  He was so like his father in appearance, but he laughed like his mother…

“Well…I think everyone in all of Westeros by now knows why I am here…” Daemon began.  “I don't even know how to begin to…I just…I know nothing of them, really.  All those histories, their great achievements, they tell me nothing.  Of mother and father.  I don’t even know what to ask!”

Royce sighed. 

“You do not have to confine yourself to only ask of pivotal moments, you know.  You can ask me anything of them, however mundane you may think it to be.”

“Truly?  You would not think me wasting your time?”

“Not at all.  I've been waiting for us to have this conversation with much anticipation, actually.”

“Anything?” Daemon asked again, still not quite believing he would finally get to know what his mother and father were truly like.

“Anything, brother.  If you wish to know what jokes would cause your mother to roll her eyes, I will tell you.  If you desire to know what the most frequent source of your father’s irritations was, I will spare no detail.  Ask away.”

“Well…” Daemon began, looking out a window. “...I actually wish to start with knowing  what you thought of them?  When you met them.  How they make you feel?  How did they treat you?  You were just a boy, after all.”

Royce examined the painted ceiling as he began talking.  “I was so… terrified when my mother, gods rest her soul, brought my sisters and I to King’s Landing.”

Daemon sat on a chair, arms on the sides of it, listening intently.  Royce stayed standing, slowly walking around the library, idly brushing the spines of books as he talked.

“All each of us had ever known was the cruelty of my father.  He had the power, so he had the right to treat us as lesser, as he so insisted upon telling us at every opportunity.  As soon as he was not in the vicinity, mother would contradict his word, try to build us up after father would tear us down.  ‘Cruelty is not the way.  None of you deserve this wretched treatment, you deserve kindness and love and happiness.’”

Daemon’s eyes began to mist over but he said nothing and let Royce continue.

“You can imagine my fear when mother dragged us to the Red Keep.  Words mean very little when what you actually witness is something different.  Save for our  mother, kindness and love did not exist to us, especially not from those with power.  Our father was a mere lord and he treated us as if we were scum so in my mind, the Targaryens, the rulers of the seven kingdoms and higher up in authority than him, would far outstrip his cruelty to my sisters and I.  I had heard stories of this new Princess of Hearts, but I thought them the same as fairy tales: made up fantasies.  For no Targaryen could possibly be so kind!  Oh, and your father, the Dragon Blade.  Well, I was in awe of tales about him but if I ever met him in person I would never have expected him to be anything other than deadly and vicious.  He was like Balerion The Black Dread to me. ”

Daemon did not look away as Royce turned to face him.

  “I did not believe it when Rhaenys, She Who Might Have Been Queen, vowed we would not be imprisoned.  Daeron and Joffrey, despite their friendship with me when my family arrived, insisted we would be treated fairly and still I did not believe. They were not the ones in power, our very fate in their hands.  The Dragon Blade had my father thrown to the dungeons for being rude with his words, so I prepared myself to be screamed at and possibly beaten when we were brought before the Queen…when your grandsire ordered everyone out, Rhaenys pulling us back so mother could talk to him alone…I thought it was over for us.”

Royce smiled sadly, continuing his story. 

“I wanted to cry when everything turned out for the better, when the Hand promised we would not suffer for my father’s sins.  I wanted to crawl up into mother’s arms, to praise her for being the bravest woman in the whole world for facing King Consort Daemon Targaryen himself… but we were in court and it would not have been proper, of course.” He laughed lightly, brightening the mood and Daemon smiled, keeping his silence so Royce could keep talking.

“It just…as soon as I saw there was nothing to fear from Daemon or the Queen, I felt like I wanted to know everything about them, these silver-haired dragonriders! Quite sure father would have beaten me to within an inch of my life if I had dared to ask him if he had magic.  Lyanna must have had patience to spare, with all the impertinent questions my sisters asked of her family and bloodline.  Her not simply boxing their ears and sending them off to their chambers as my father would often do was a miracle, to be honest.”

Daemon laughed at this along with Royce.  Hearing him speak of these things, it was as if he were there himself, watching it all unfold.  

“Oh gods, if your over protective mother had known how clumsy Cassandra was, holding Catelyn would have been out of the question.  It's a good thing babies and pottery bear no resemblance to each other or my wife would have ended up on the ground as soon as Lyanna had handed her off.”  Daemon was crying with laughter now, Royce smiled with glee, allowing him to catch his breath before going on with his recollection of things. 

“And when your father appeared!  It was very jarring to see what, to me, seemed like a deadly creature sidle up to your beautiful mother and gently give her a kiss. She did not fear him whatsoever! I was in shock, I think.  I expected him to ignore me since ,compared to everyone else present, I thought myself of no consequence.  He actually squatted down to talk to me.  Me!  A lad of a mere 5 years.  This man who even the guards at home spoke of in fear,  who had my father imprisoned just for talking!”

Daemon leaned back in the chair, listening intently.  Hearing all this, he felt as if he were meeting his father and mother for the first time.  He felt Royce’s joy and enthusiasm.  

“Being around them, your parents… it just felt safe.  I didn't sense any hooks later to be reeled in for favors from their kindness, like with other lords and ladies…there was no barrier of formality. I didn't feel like my nerves would snap if I made a mistake with court decorum.  I did not feel stupid and worthless.  They did not paint us with the same brush the rest did due to my father’s actions.  I felt I could be myself.  It was quite freeing, let me tell you.”

As Royce continued to talk, servants replenished the food and drink.  Daemon continued to listen well into the night, happy to finally get to know his mother and father.

CHAPTER 2

[roselirry]

Wait what tom Drabble? Did I miss something?

I wrote a Tom Glynn Carney drabble!!! 

[ohstardust]

for the blurb thingy one of the boys making fun of a 20 yr old reader, calling her young and small and stuff like that in a cute way

If there was one thing Tom loved to tease her endlessly about, it was her small stature. She guessed she’d been around fourteen years old when her growth had come to a screeching halt, no longer one of the taller ones in her high school class, and she hated it with a burning passion. There were upsides to being slightly below average, of course there were, sneak attacks, getting out of tricky situations, pretending to be invisible, but the majority of the time she wished she were just a few inches taller. An average height wouldn’t have been such a hardship to deal with. 

“You’re so little, like teeny tiny little.”

Her face became stoic and she sent her strongest death glare Tom’s way, hoping to convey even a fraction of her dismay, “Just because you’re virtually a foot taller than me doesn’t mean I won’t fight you. Being smaller means I can bite your ankles or go for the kneecaps. If anything my height is a weapon.”

“Sure sweetheart, I hear ya, but you’re a little young ‘un.”

“I’m gonna fight you, you sod. I’m almost 21 - I’m a bloody adult!”

He shot her a toothy grin, his eyes crinkled as he giggled, “Of course you are, a small adult.”

She glared at him sternly and pointed her index finger in his direction, her eyebrows raising as she felt the effect of two glasses of wine making her a little giggly, “I’ll have you know that the myth states that you don’t stop growing until you turn 21, so that gives me,” she glanced at her watch, her tongue poking out as she tried to calculate the time, “forty-six minutes.”

“You better chop chop then, time waits for no one.”

“And my friggin’ fists don’t either, you oversized shit.”

@prettyboytgc might appreciate this which is fitting seeing as we’re talking right now

[written-in-flowers]

The one shot where you did Aegon having sex qith his pregnant wife, could be do a part where he's so hungover in the moring he's like 'do what ever you want' to his kids because they keep begging him for something. I like dad aegon

A/N: Prepare for chaos and (hopefully) hilarity...

***

Someone shoved his arm lightly. A dull ache clouded his mind the moment he started waking up. His body might as well have been weighed down by rocks. The light shoving and tapping continued, and he swatted it away weakly. His head throbbed at the temples and around his forehead; he thought it might split open if he opened his eyes. The faint scent of violets reached his nose, and he smiled. Your scent always remained on the pillows long after you'd left the bed. He could feel a hand continuing to shake him.

"Give me a few minutes, love," he grumbled, rolling onto his side. "Then we can go another round before the children wake up."

"Another round of what, Father?"

His eyes flew open. Inches from his face was one that looked like his own, except the eyes were your shade. Baelon stood already dressed in his green and black attire for the day. He wore a leather coat over his clothes, and a pair of leather riding gloves. 

"N-N-Nothing, Baelon," he groaned, laying on his back. "What are you doing here?"

"We're breaking fast with Mother in the hall," he said, "And then we're going to go flying."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me and you!" he smiled, "You said yesterday you'd come riding with me and Endrys. Saera says she wants to come too, and Daella. Vaelen doesn't want to go, though. He says he's 'busy'," he rolled his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes with his palms. Yes, he'd forgotten his promise to Baelon yesterday afternoon. Baelon, one-and-ten, proved to be a strong dragonrider. His dragon, the emerald beast called Endrys, bonded with him within his egg, which the Dragonkeepers called ‘extremely rare’. Baelon loved the dragons. He read every book and scroll he could find about them; he visited the dragon pit every day to see them. He rode Endrys as long as possible. Aegon knew he'd give up his crown and join the Dragonkeepers in a heartbeat if given the choice. Opening his eyes, blinking despite how much it hurt, he saw the burn mark that crept from his son’s collar. The maester said the burn won't scar entirely, since the hatchling Baelon carried couldn't blow real fire yet, but he'd have a mark or two. Aegon guessed it'd be the first of many throughout his life. Petting his son's mane of silver hair, he smiled sleepily.

"We'll go riding soon," he said. "You run off and eat. You'll need your strength."

Baelon beamed at him, his smile reminded Aegon of yours, and rushed out of the room. He waited for the boy to leave before rolling to your side of the bed. You must've left a while ago, since he couldn't catch a wisp of your warmth. A small part of him hoped you’d be there for him again; he liked the idea of waking up in your arms, your wetness inches from his touch. Aegon took your pillow in his arms to inhale the scent you left behind. A blend of violet oil and natural musk filled his nose and exhaled deeply. He imagined you’d woken ages before him, most likely due to one of the children sneaking in to get you, and then set about dressing quietly. Due to his rough night, you’d naturally let him sleep in. 

For as long as the children let him. 

Without you, he had no reason to stay in bed. Aegon willed himself to sit up. The grogginess and his aching head made it hard for him to take in his surroundings for a moment. That was the last time he drank Dornish strongwine. He dragged himself out of bed, and searched around for clothes to wear. Seeing some already picked out, he guessed you'd ordered a maid to put them out for him. He saw his riding leathers placed alongside it: a long coat, boots, and gloves fit for riding Sunfyre. Aegon didn't care. He only cared about nursing his hangover. The first few minutes in his room went by in the blur. He didn't recall dressing himself until he left. He prepared himself for the storm he'd be walking into when he reached the dining hall.

"-Mother, Baelon keeps throwing bread at me!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Boys, boys, stop it," he heard you say. "Baelon, stop wasting your food and eat it. Vaelen, darling, just ignore him and finish your eggs."

"Raaawwwr!!"

"Saera, sit down and eat."

"I'm not Saera! I'm Rhaenys!"

"Well, Princess Rhaenys, please come sit and eat."

Aegon stood in the doorway watching them. Saera, her blond hair in a tangled braided mess, ran around the table holding up a wooden dragon puppet in flight. Baelon had stopped pelting Vaelen with bread and started stacking pieces of bacon into a square on his plate. Vaelen ate his breakfast quietly, reading a book propped up against a vase. You sat at the head of the table, talking to your eldest, Daella. You’d worn one of your looser gowns today to give your swollen belly room. Aegon smiled softly for a moment. This was them; his little family. It blew him away some mornings. He never considered himself the domesticated type before. He’d grown up a spoiled, selfish prince who liked gambling, wine, and women; the only person he loved was his sister-wife, you. But then one hot morning, you delivered a baby girl, who suddenly became his entire world. Everything spiraled from there.

"Morning, Husband," you smirked at him knowingly. "How did you sleep?"

Aegon walked forward, doing his best to stay upright and not slouch, "Like a babe." He plucked the wooden toy from Saera mid-run.

"Father!"

"Even dragonriders need to eat," he put her on the chair beside you and handed one of the maids the toy. "Including you," he told Baelon, as he handed him a fork and sat down, “Eat your bacon.” 

The maid served him brown ale, two sausages, bacon, three fried eggs, and a chunk of bread. He began eating when someone placed a small wooden cup beside him. Aegon turned to see Vaelen standing there, blond hair tied back from his face and sage look in his eyes. He picked up the cup to see a faintly green liquid that smelled thickly of grass. 

“Vaelen, what is this?”

“It’s tea,” he smiled, “It helps with overindulgence.”

“Who gave this to you?”

“Nobody. I made it this morning. Mother said you might feel sick, so I used Maester Bole’s special tea for overindulgence,” he said proudly. “Drink it. It’s good for you.”

Aegon highly doubted that. Vaelen, eight-years-old and the youngest of his four, enjoyed recreating medicines and teas he read about in old Citadel scrolls and books. Unfortunately, his family members ended up being the test subjects. Seeing his son’s expectant face, and seeing the laugh you tried hiding, he shrugged and knocked back to “tea”. Watery, it tasted sharply of pine needles and leaves, and he forced himself to hold back a gag. He’d drunk Maester Bole’s elixirs before, and it never tasted like this. Still, he swallowed and nodded. 

“Very good, son,” he coughed, patting the boy’s shoulder and giving him the cup, “I appreciate your concern. Go eat before your food gets cold.”

He waited until Vaelen left to return to his food. The greasy meal will drown the taste left in his mouth. 

“How was it?” you asked, smiling at him. 

“Delightful,” he replied sarcastically, “You should try it.”

“If only I could ‘overindulge’ as much as you do.”

“You can once he” he pointed to your belly, “Comes out.” 

“He? What makes you think it’s a ‘he’?” you bantered back. “Our next child could easily be a girl.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “It’s a boy, this time. I can feel it.”

“You can feel it? Ah, I didn’t realize you were the one carrying the child.”

“I can sense these things, Y/N,” he said, chewing on a sausage. “I can tell.” 

“I hope it’s a boy,” Baelon said, finally eating a piece of bacon. “I can have a little brother who’ll ride with me. He’ll have a big dragon like me, and we’ll go riding together all the time.”

“Or, he’ll hate dragons and want to read in the library with me,” Vaelen added. 

“I hope it’s a girl,” Daella smiled. “That way, during sewing circles, there will be someone whose stitches are as bad as mine.” 

A girl of one-and-three, she was a spitting image of you. Daella Targaryen, Aegon often boasted, was one of the most comely girls at court. Sadly for Aegon, thirteen is marrying age. He didn’t know any boy who’d want to marry a girl who can outshoot them on an archery range. 

“I don’t care whether it is a boy or girl,” you mused, nibbling on a piece of bread and honey, “Only that it comes.” 

He touched your hand again, seeing the sorrow flash across your eyes. Your last pregnancy didn’t go as you’d both hoped. Daella, old enough to understand, touched your other hand, which made you smile at her. Aegon went back to eating, listening to the conversation change, when he noticed a silver tray at the end of the table. On it, he saw several crushed up herbs, chopped plants, a mortar and pestle, and a glass of a clear liquid. One of Vaelen's experiments, no doubt. Aegon did not have the energy to say anything about experimental works on the table, and went back to eating.

But, nothing gets passed you. "Vaelen, what have we told you? No experiments on the table."

“It’s only my medicinal plants.”

“No experiments.”

Vaelen grumbled, picked up the tray, and put it on a chair. Aegon continued eating slowly, his head feeling heavier than rocks and pounding his temples. He listened to the buzz of his family around him. Aegon could rarely recall a time his own father broke fast with him and his siblings. King Viserys usually remained in his chambers, slowly rotting away due to leprosy and infections. When their family started growing, Aegon made it a point to eat every meal with his children; he’d talk to them about their day, their lessons, and their troubles and answer odd questions. So, despite his throbbing headache and fatigue, he sat with them. 

"What are you all planning for today?" You asked him, taking a sip from your cup.

"These three want to go riding," he nodded to Saera, Baelon, and Daella.

"Are you fit for riding today, love?" You rubbed his arm and gave it a small squeeze. “You had quite a night.”

"I’m always fit for riding,” he insisted. “Sunfyre hasn’t flown in a while. He’ll be eager to get up in the sky.” He looked over at you, “You and Vaelen should join us. Vaelen can ride Daemar, and you can see Moonfyre. The Dragonkeepers say she’s been weeping in her cave.”

“It’s not me she misses,” you noted. “They’ve been keeping her and Sunfyre apart since she had her eggs.” A small smile graced your face, “It seems the dragon has his rider’s appetite.” 

“Clearly.” He chewed at his bacon, then said, “Still, I’d like you and Vaelen to come…all of us together as a family.”

The look you both shared said much. Growing up, your family only attended formal events, celebrations and tourneys together; even then, you never truly bonded. Being the betrothed ones, you and Aegon often stuck together during events because everyone else’s company paled in comparison. Neither of you ever felt a sense of family, even if his mother demanded they uphold the image. The day Daella was born, he’d told you he wanted things to be different, and different they were. You took his free hand and kissed it, then he did the same to yours. 

“Father,” Daella called to him, “Can I bring my bow?"

"That’s fine, dove.” 

"Aegon," you narrowed your eyes at him for a moment. "What do you want to bring your bow for?" 

"I want to see if I can shoot from dragonback."

"You can't shoot from dragonback," Baelon scoffed. "You have to hold the reins!"

"Not if I'm strapped onto Starlight."

"You need to pull the reins to guide her, darling," you said to her. "You're not taking the bow. You'll fall off."

"But Mother!"

"No."

"Father, can I bring it? Please."

"Your mother said 'no'."

Daella sucked her teeth and stopped eating. Aegon can already see her mind working ways to smuggle her bow onto her dragon. Archery on dragonback can be extremely dangerous; only a truly experienced dragonrider could do it well. But Aegon knew it’d be pointless to say anything to her. If she tried, he'd stop her, but for now, he wanted to eat his hangover away. The family broke fast together until Baelon became impatient, and asked if he may go ahead without them.

"No," you told him as everyone stood together, "You go with your father or not at all. I don't want you running around the city alone. It's dangerous out there."

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, soaking up the breakfast drippings with his bread and washing it down. “We’re going now. I’ll have a wheelhouse prepared for you.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Vaelen protested, picking up his experiment, “I want to show Maester Bole my soothing salve!”

“You can show it to him later,” Aegon told him, ushering him towards the doors. “I’m not leaving you here so you can set your curtains on fire.”

“I only set them on fire that one time.”

“No fire.” 

Aegon knew once Vaelen saw Daemar, he’d change his tune. He looked over to see you slowly standing from your chair. He offered you his arm to walk while the children skipped along ahead of you. He ordered his Kingsguard knight, Ser Arryck, to get a carriage ready for the family to set out to the dragon pit. Watching his children all walk ahead of him, chatting about riding and their dragons, Aegon felt something he never felt growing up: Love. He tried so hard to be what his parents wanted, and whenever he acted out of line, they punished him for it. He vowed he’d never be like that with his own children. He’d never make them question whether he loved them, or make them feel less than who they were. 

“Is your head any better?” you asked him as you walked down the corridor. 

“It’s not as terrible as before, but it’ll pass.”

“Or maybe your son’s special tea actually worked this time.”

“I hope so,” he snorted. “It tasted terrible enough to make me forget about my head.”

You laughed together and walked out into the courtyard where stablehands brought out a large wheelhouse. Baelon and Vaelen began pushing one another to get into the wheelhouse first, while Daella scolded them from a distance. Aegon normally would pull them apart, but…he couldn’t find the energy. He watched his boys wrestle for a good minute before Baelon finally won and jumped into the carriage first. He’d enjoy his ‘good seat’ for another minute before Aegon comes to kick him out, and give the comfortable seat to you. When he managed to pile them all into the carriage, he took his seat beside you and the carriage began moving. Aegon looked around the comfortable wheelhouse, recognizing the dragons molded into the borders and the embroidered cushions you sat on. He took your hand in his again, smiling softly. 

“This was the carriage we rode away in on our wedding day,” he whispered in your ear. “You remember our wedding day, don’t you?”

You smiled widely, “I do…I also remember you couldn’t keep your hands off me the whole way home.”

“I didn’t keep my hands to myself even before the wedding. How could you expect me to contain myself when we were finally married and I had you alone?” 

“I didn’t expect you to,” you whispered back, “I was hoping you would.” 

Children all distracted, only one of them noticed you two whispering and the soft peck he gave you. “You were hoping Father did ‘what’, Mother?” Saera, who had ears like a bat, sat right beside you.

“I hoped your father would be a good husband and a good father,” you immediately lied. “So stop being nosey,” you pinched her nose softly, a playful tone in your voice. 

Daella stifled a giggle as she stared out the window, her cheeks a soft pink. She’d heard it all. He’d usually tell her not to listen in on conversations either, but…well, she’d be married soon. She'll be married and have her own children. He preferred not to think of that right now. 

He wanted to have his family for a little bit longer.

[written-in-flowers]

Gods Weaving Threads (AegonxReader)

Pairing: Aegon ii x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Genre: Fluff, smut

Summary: Your wedding day has finally arrived, and the one thing you and Aegon put off can finally happen. It is the first day of the rest of your lives together.

Warnings: virgin!reader, first time sex, virgin sex, cream pie, vaginal fingering, handjobs, quick sex, semi-public sex, carriage sex,

A/N: this is part of my Dad!Aegon series. It’s set right after the last fic ‘The Night Before the Rest of our Lives’. I hope you all like it <3

***

You woke the following day to an empty bed. You rolled over onto your side to see Aegon’s spot empty, the pillows and sheets there cold from the early morning chill. You’d hoped he’d stay. You didn’t like waking up without him there; he’d become a welcome comfort in your bed, even if he did fondle you as much as possible in his drunken state. Yet, sadly, you woke to nobody there. He must’ve snuck out before your lady-in-waiting or your mother came upon you both. It’d be hard to explain why you’re both in bed together the morning of your wedding. Sliding over to where he’d slept, you caught hints of his scent on the pillows. It might’ve not been entirely pleasant, but you still inhaled. You recalled your night together, and wished he’d stayed a bit longer.

“Morning, Princess,” you heard a melodic voice speak to you. Your lady-in-waiting, Selyse, must’ve walked in right as you stirred in your bed. She drew back the curtains, allowing the morning light to break through your room. You groaned, shielding your eyes, and rolled away from the light. “The Queen ordered me to come wake you,” she continued, “You’re getting married today.”

“I’m well aware. Thank you, Selyse,” you said into your pillow. “Where is the prince?”

“The Prince?”

“Yes, Prince Aegon,” you turned your head to look at her. Selyse was a slight, fair-haired girl a few years younger than you. “Where is he?”

“I-I don’t know, Princess,” she said, confused. “I expect he’s still in his quarters.”

Yes, then he did sneak out. Begrudgingly, you slid from your bed and onto the floor. The realization of the day ahead of you came: it’s your wedding day. The day everyone in The Red Keep has been anticipating. The sole reason hordes of people have come flocking to King’s Landing these past few weeks. It was finally here. Your stomach tightened at the thought. What if you fumbled your words and ruined the ceremony? What if you had an accident with your dress? You couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing your insides. Selyse and another maid put down a simple breakfast for you: bread with honey, fruits, and meat with a jug of sweetmilk. You tried finding a desire to eat, forcing the food down your mouth dryly, but couldn’t find any joy in it. You wondered where Aegon was and if he’d woken up yet. He liked sleeping in after drinking all night.

“Good morning!”

You looked from your dining table to see Helaena, your sister, walk in. She smiled merrily at you, kissing both your cheeks and hugging you. “Today’s the day!” she beamed, taking a seat next to you and grabbing bread, “Your wedding ceremony! Are you excited?”

“I am.”

“You don’t look excited…” she said, just now noticing your anxious expression. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to be marrying Aegon at last. You always talked about it when we were small.”

“I am happy,” you insisted, chewing a piece of bacon for something to do. “It’s only that…”

“That it’s the most important day of your life and everyone in the kingdom will be there at the Great Sept to watch you and Aegon say your vows under the Light of the Seven?”

“Yes-”

“-And that there is the possibility something may go wrong and you’ll spoil the entire day?”

“That too-”

“And you’re worried that Aegon might run away or have disappeared before your wedding because it’d be like him to run away from any kind of duty, responsibility or expectation?”

“No, Helaena, I wasn’t worried about that.”

It was the one confident feeling you did have. Aegon loved you. He’d never disappoint you. “I can’t wait to see you in your dress,” Helaena said excitedly, “Everyone is going to be so surprised. It’s so pretty.”

You entertained Helaena with wedding talk. Younger than you, Helaena would be married shortly after you to Aemond, your second brother. Briefly, you pictured Helaena, silver blonde and light-eyed, standing at the altar with Aemond, tall and long. She’d be a beautiful bride. You’d both been discussing the feast when another person walked into the room. Your mother, Queen Alicent, walked in with her lady-in-waiting, Talia, flanking her. Brown curls pinned back from her face and braided, she already dressed herself for the ceremony. She wore a dark green and gold gown, the high collar and long sleeves indicating a sense of modesty and piety. You spotted the golden seven pointed star of The Seven hanging from her neck. There’d been a time in your life where your mother didn’t dress as if she was visiting The Sept every day. She glanced around the room a few times before focusing back on you. She expected to find Aegon here. Thankfully, your future husband seemed to cover his tracks throughout the room.

“You look beautiful, Mother,” you said first, nibbling on a piece of honeyed bread. “Sleep well?”

“Very,” she grinned, bending to kiss the top of your head, and sitting with you. “Are you nervous?” she asked.

“She is,” Helaena answered for you. “She thinks the wedding’s going to go wrong.”

“Why would you think that?” Your mother asked worriedly.

“Because whenever something good is going to happen to me, the Gods sour it somehow,” you said absentmindedly, then suddenly wishing you could take the words back.

“Nobody will ruin today,” she assured you, taking your hand in both of hers. “The Gods have weaved both yours and Aegon’s lives together to travel the same path. You…” you saw her hesitate, eyes scanning your face, “You were made for one another.” When you gave her a stunned expression, she continued, “I might not have always approved of the life you and Aegon led; I will admit it disappoints me because you could do many great things if you sought out your full potential.” She realized the critique only pushed you away, and said, “But, I cannot deny that you two share a special connection. Since you were young, I have seen it. I saw how Aegon teased you the least out of all his siblings; how he favored you over every other woman in the room. You make each other happy. It’s why I decided to make your betrothal a love match, instead of a political one like your Father advised.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’d suggested marrying you to one of Rhaenyra’s sons,” she said. “He said it’d mend the broken bonds and cease the infighting of our house if you married Jaceryes.”

“Jace?” you scoffed, washing down your bread with milk.

“I told him that a match to Aegon would be best,” she told you. “Targaryens have wed oldest brothers to sisters for centuries. We’d be honoring tradition, I told him.”

“That and you didn’t want me married to one of Rhaenyra’s boys,” you replied slyly.

She tilted her head, thinking, “That might’ve played another part, but no,” she continued. “I knew how miserable you’d be if you didn’t marry Aegon. For once, I wanted to celebrate a happy union, instead of a somber one.”

This made you think: your mother was fifteen when she married your father, who was twice her age or more. You couldn’t imagine the agonizing feeling of being so young and marrying someone you didn’t truly love. Yes, your mother honored and loved your father, but not the way a woman did for a man. She cared for your ailing father out of duty and expectation; yes, she might love him, though only because they expected it from her. You, on the other hand, are marrying the man you’ve loved since childhood. Your eyes met hers, and you suddenly realized it: She didn’t want you to end up like her.

“I brought you something,” she said, breaking from your gaze.

She called Talia forward, and the maid placed a box between the both of you. Opening the gold clasp, you saw what was inside: a golden tiara lined with rubies, accentuated by small onyx gems. You and Helaena both gasped seeing it sitting on a black velvet lining. Carefully, you examined it in your hands.

“I wore it on my wedding day,” she told you, watching you hold it up into the light. “I thought it’d look lovely with your gown and cloak.”

Your eyes watered, and you couldn’t say why. You embraced her tightly, putting everything you couldn’t say into it. She gave you a soft pat on the cheek when you both broke away, kissing your forehead and sitting back in her seat. The mood lifted considerably from then onwards. Finally, the time came to prepare for the Grand Sept. Your mother, sister, and ladies-in-waiting scurried around you, helping you into your dress, stockings and shoes. Selyse worked on fixing your hair, while Talia dabbed on powder and lip balm for you. When they finished, they brought you to the long mirror near your dresser. You looked…elegant. In a dress of snowy white silk, you looked like a real princess. You touched the lace bodice, feeling the intricate floral patterns and small rubies the seamstress weaved into them, and couldn’t believe it was you. Your mother then clipped a cloak of red and black velvet on your shoulders; the inverted colors of House Targaryen, which Aegon will remove and replace with his own. The final touch? The golden tiara, which sat neatly on your head, shining bright like the earrings and necklace you wore.

“You look beautiful,” your mother said, smiling at you in the mirror.

“You look wonderful,” Helaena agreed. “Everyone’s going to be talking about you today. They’ll write songs about it.”

Your cheeks heated at their compliments. You hoped Aegon liked it. It didn’t matter if other people found you lovely, you only cared that he did.

“Y/N?”

Aemond walked into the room. Clad in his usual black leather jerkin, shirt and breeches, he stopped when he saw you. A childhood accident left your brother without an eye, causing him to wear a patch at court to hide it. Still, your little brother grew to be taller than anyone else in your family and far stronger and smarter. You supposed years of bullying crafted a person like that. Aemond stood at the door, stunned and staring at you, before Helaena coughed.

“The, um, carriage is ready to take us to the, um, Sept,” he informed you all.

“Thank you, Aemond,” your mother nodded. “Come, we better move or we’ll be late.”

She guided the party out of your bedroom and down the hall. You fell into step beside Aemond. “Where is he?”

“On his way to the Sept.”

“Hungover?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “But, he drank a tea that Maester Orwyle prescribed to relieve some symptoms.” He hesitated, “He went to see you last night.”

“What? No, he didn’t.”

“He did. I went to his chambers to see if he was there, and there was no sign of him,” he gazed over at you, “Even though Ser Arryck insists that he escorted Aegon to his chambers after the feast.”

“You must’ve gotten there ahead of him.”

“I assure you, I did not. Could you two not wait one more night?”

“Nothing happened,” you rolled your eyes. “He was drunk and couldn’t sleep, so he broke into my room.”

“And you know how he is when he’s drunk.”

“He was too drunk to do anything about it,” you said, softly laughing remembering your inebriated husband. “He could hardly walk straight; I doubt he would’ve performed in bed.”

But, he will tonight. Aegon anticipated this day as much as you. You pictured him in his own wheelhouse on his way to the Grand Sept on the other side of the city. He’d stand proud and bold in front of the entire kingdom, wearing black and red to contrast your white, and looking like a true prince. The both of you will recite your vows to each other underneath the seven pointed star, a symbol of The Faith. You thought back to what your mother said: you and Aegon were made for one another. A vision of The Maiden connecting you both by a single thread right when The Mother made you came through your mind. She said, ‘This one will go nowhere without the other’.

You reached the door that led out into the courtyard when you all stopped. Up ahead, a group of guards marched towards you, all surrounding a man with a walking stick. It was your father, King Viserys, dressed richly in velvet and silk today. A golden crown went around his balding head, where you spotted patches of sores across his scalp. He looked ill. Then again, he always did. You can tell it was one of his better days by how he walked a bit faster and kept himself mostly upright.

“Morning, dear Husband,” your mother bowed.

“Morning, morning,” he said, nodding his head. He then spotted you, and you feared the worst. “Oh, Y/N,” he breathed, “My darling Y/N, how beautiful you look today. You make a most splendid bride.”

“Thank you, Father,” you replied, smiling at his words. Mainly, you were relieved he didn’t call you ‘Rhaenyra’ again.

“Today is going to be a good day,” he nodded, starting to turn away. “A very happy day.”

“Indeed, it will be,” your mother agreed. She turned to you, “I must ride with your father. Aemond and Helaena will have their own wheelhouse.”

“And me?”

“You’ll ride alone,” she told you. “The bride needs to shine on her special day.”

“Mother,” you grabbed her hand, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“It’ll only be a short time,” she assured you, patting your hand. “Come.”

You walked out to the line of carriages waiting in the courtyard. The King being helped into one, your mother soon left your side to follow him. Next, Aemond gave you a curt nod while Helaena kissed both your cheeks before climbing into their own carriage. Finally, yours came. By far the nicest of them all, your carriage was painted black with golden accents along the borders. The Targaryen flag flew at each corner on the top. A footman opened the door for you and you stepped inside. The moment the door closed and the carriage moved onwards, your stomach lurched. Through the windows, you spotted hundreds of people in the streets. Some on horses, others walking on foot, made their way to the Grand Sept to witness the marriage. Of course, only nobility will be allowed inside the sept, but the common folk could stand outside to cheer. You didn’t know why they’d cheer or care. Your marriage doesn’t affect them in the slightest. You supposed because weddings are a good excuse to get drunk. The carriage moved throughout the crowded city smoothly, until it suddenly stopped. You grabbed hold of the window ledge as the carriage staggered forward and came to a full stop. Your heart jumped into your throat, and you braced yourself for attack when the door flung open.

“There you are.”

Aegon leapt into the carriage, knocked on the roof and the wheelhouse continued onwards. The drunken fool who’d climbed into your bed last night and the man who climbed into your carriage were night and day. His blond wavy hair properly combed, he’d tucked it behind his ears to keep it out of his face. He wore a black doublet with velvet dragons sewn into the torso part; his black shirt stopped at his wrists, and he wore black breeches with shiny boots. The silver circlet around his head was inlaid with dark rubies to match the crimson dragons. The moment his eyes laid on you, their mischief was replaced with amazement. You smiled softly under his attention, noticing how his eyes looked over your face, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You’re beautiful,” he said breathlessly. He cupped your cheek and pecked your lips, “Absolutely, utterly, historically beautiful.”

“‘Historically’?” you laughed, all nervousness melting away at his touch.

“The singers will sing of your beauty for centuries,” he replied. “Everyone who sees you will proclaim you as the most beautiful woman in all Seven Kingdoms.” He kissed you again, deeper and lingering. “And I’m the luckiest man in the world today, because I get the privilege of standing beside you and taking you as my wife.”

You savored each kiss, never wanting to let him go. “You shouldn’t be here,” you said between kisses, “You’re supposed to show up first.”

“I don’t care about that,” he muttered on your lips, “I wanted to see you.”

“You would’ve seen me in a half hour,” you giggled.

“Too long, in my opinion,” he said, dotting kisses on your neck and collarbone. “It was boring in the carriage alone. I think the populace will be more pleased to see the married couple arriving together instead of separately, don’t you?”

“And Mother will be upset because you escaped your carriage. Wasn’t Ser Arryck with you?”

“On his horse, yes,” he nodded. He looked at you, once again surveying your features, “I wanted to see you before the rest of them did.” He ran a piece of your hair around his finger gently, then tucked it behind your ear, “I wanted to tell you something. You know, before we get to the Sept and have to recite vows in front of the whole kingdom.”

“Yes?”

“Y/N…” he took a deep breath, “I’m not a poet or a singer who can weave beautiful words from thin air.”

“Far from it, actually.”

“Very,” he agreed, “I thought of a million ways to tell you how I loved you. Simply saying the words didn’t feel like enough. I always pictured myself saying these thoughtful, beautiful words that’d make you cry and swoon. But, I’ve realized as we’ve gotten older that I’m not that romantic. All the pretty words and smoldering looks are more Aemond’s cards than mine.”

“Then what are your cards, Aegon?”

“This.”

He leaned into you until you fell back onto the pillows. You’ve kissed Aegon thousands upon thousands of times. You’ve kissed in front of people at tourneys and behind curtains at events. You’ve kissed him drunk and sober. Each time felt special in its own way. Yet, the kiss Aegon gave you now stirred more than warmth. He kept one hand on your jaw, his thumb brushing on your cheekbone; his other hand stayed on the small of your back, neither traveling up or down. The kisses started light and soft on yours, before becoming deeper. Aegon kissed you long, slow and tenderly. Every time you’d kissed did not match to this kiss right now. When he broke away, you wished he’d keep going.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, pecking your lips gently. “You’re my sun, moon and stars. You’re the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins.” He kissed you again, “I don’t believe I could live in this world if you weren’t walking on it.”

“Aegon,” you awed before he captured you in another kiss. “I feel the same.” You returned his kiss eagerly, “The Gods made you for me. They manipulated our fates so we’d be together. I love you, Aegon.”

Hearing you say those three words made him smile. You swore you spotted tears in his eyes, though said nothing about them. You continued kissing as the carriage went down the road. Not once did he try touching any other part of you. Neither of you noticed the wheelhouse had stopped until the door flew open.

“My prince,” Ser Arryck and his twin brother, Erryck, stood outside the door, “We’ve arrived.”

“Shall I go first?” he asked you, briefly kissing you one last time.

Aegon climbed out of the wheelhouse to a cheering crowd. You spotted people standing on either side of the grand staircase leading up into the Grand Sept, clapping and hooting for him. Aegon strutted up the stairs ahead of you, being a few yards away before you were helped out onto the steps. The crowd roared at the sight of you. You saw their adoring faces, their hands reaching out for you, and the flowers people threw at your feet. You beamed at

to believe it was finally happening. Your knees became wobbly from the breathless feeling Aegon left behind, and you kept yourself steady when you climbed up the steps. As you approached the tall, open doors of the stone building, you could see the figures inside. People came from miles around to attend the royal wedding, and they filled up the vast sept.

the common folk outside, the lords and ladies made no noise as you walked up the aisle in silence. Once you passed through the door, your grandfather, Lord Otto Hightower, appeared. Your own father could not walk you, since he barely walked on his own, but this was more welcomed. You smiled at him when you linked your arm with his and he walked you the rest of the way. Up ahead, you saw the altar they’d prepared for your union. You saw Aegon already standing there, staring down at you and only you.

Your mother betrothed you and Aegon when you were ten-years-old. At the time, you did not know how to feel about the announcement. Neither of you were old enough to have real feelings for one another; before that moment, he’d been your sullen, sulky older brother who had a fondness for serving girls. Thinking back on it now, you tried pinpointing the moment you fell for him, but couldn’t find one. You simply always had. Your father originally suggested a Valryian wedding, the same ceremony members of House Targaryen have done for centuries. You are Valyrian-descendants after all. However, your mother steadfastly refused. You’d both be married under the Seven Pointed star like so many others before you. You honestly did not care. You only cared about marrying Aegon.

You reached the altar, and your eyes instantly watered. It was happening. You almost did not hear anything the Septon said. You were too busy focusing on Aegon, and how different he appeared in the light. The Septon led the crowd in a chorus of hymns and made a few speeches about love and The Gods. He called your grandfather forward, and he gently removed the red and black cloak from your shoulders. Aegon took a black and red cloak, the three-headed dragon of your house embroidered on the back, and put it over your shoulders. Passing protection from your father to your brother. You could smell Aegon on it, and it made you love it even more.

Then, he asked you both to clasp hands.

“The Light of the Seven is holy and forever,” the High Septon began, “We stand here today in thanks to praise the joining of two souls. May their hearts and souls forever be bonded as one. Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone and Stranger, hear now their vows.”

You’d practiced this for ages. You could not mess up now. Not in front of the entire kingdom. With Aegon’s holding yours, all nervousness and insecurity went away.

“I am yours,” Aegon went first, “And you are mine. My heart and soul belong to you from this day until the end of my days.”

“I am yours,” you smiled, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, “And you are mine…My heart and soul,” you gulped them back, “Belong to you from this day until the end of my days.”

“Here,” The Septon said, “In the presence of Gods and Men, I hereby declare these two one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

He is meant to kiss your cheek, considering you’re in the sept, but neither of you cared. Aegon kissed your lips. He kissed you like he’d done in the wheelhouse, and you drank in every bit of it before a cough nearby called your attention.

“I love you,” you whispered, his forehead pressed to yours and holding your hands.

“And I love you,” he replied.

He took your hand and led you to the aisle. Everyone looked on as you tearfully walked alongside Aegon, your husband. Your soulmate. The sept bells immediately began ringing, their sounds echoing throughout the empty spaces in the sept. The sound followed you outside, where the common people waited to see the married couple. You held back your tears in front of them, unable to fathom your happiness and luck. The married couple typically ride in a wheelhouse with relatives to make sure the couple does not consummate before bedding. You’d be riding with Aemond and Helaena, since your mother must ride with your father.

, Aegon had other ideas. A few more steps from the carriage, Aegon leaned over to you.

“When I say ‘run’, you run.”

“What? Why?”

“Run!”

Aegon rushed you into the open wheelhouse, and quickly climbed in after you. Aemond, seeing you break for it, ran up right behind Aegon, but just missed him.

“Aegon! Aegon, open the door!”

“Go!”

He knocked on the roof and the driver whipped the reins. You laughed seeing Aemond’s pale face flush red and Helaena immediately come to his side, both of them in shock. The wheelhouse a safe distance away, Aegon pounced. Using your cloak as a cushion between you and the pillows, you laid down on the seats as Aegon hovered over you, lifting your dress to your thighs. His body pressing to yours, a familiar heat started working in your lower half. You ran your hand from his waist to his shoulders, while he went down your body. His lips found the base of your neck, and kissed downwards, his hips grinding into you slowly. You didn’t know if his hands felt warmer than usual or if your body became hyper aware of him. His lips went down to your chest, where he tugged down the neckline already threatening to reveal your cleavage. Unable to remove your corset, Aegon kissed the parts that spilled over the top, leaving soft bites. You had the urge to rip your dress off, tear up the corset and let him suck and kiss your nipples. You loved how his mouth felt on your skin. They stoked the fires burning between your thighs as you felt the fabric of his pants brushing your bare sex. You grinded against the bulge starting to grow inside them; you were thankful he’d worn all black for the ceremony. He reached under your dress as his lips found yours again and touched your pussy.

“Y/N,” he smirked between kisses, “No smallclothes?”

“I may have removed them when Mother turned her back.”

You shuddered at the light touch of his fingers over your pussy, the tips barely grazing your clit each time. Pulling him back in for another kiss, you slid your hands into his hair and your tongue into his mouth. The heated kiss added to the desire growing inside you. Fingers rolled around your center, knowing so well where to touch, and making you wet. You knew you should wait until the bedding later on, but having Aegon touching your sex and kissing you so passionately pushed out that thought. As Aegon slowly teased your clit up and down, you untied the breeches keeping him from you. He was half hard and throbbing when you pulled it out. You matched his pace, gently gliding over his shaft and rubbing his tip in time with his teasing fingers. The wheelhouse rocked gently, and you felt the gentle vibrations coming through the wood as it went over cobbled streets. Having you whimpering in his embrace, Aegon slipped two fingers inside you. You spread your legs wider at their intrusion, giving Aegon plenty of space to use his hand. His thumb continued rubbing your clit as his fingers curled towards that special spot. He thrusted into your hand slowly, groaning when you gripped him tightly. His fingers sliding in and out of you made you want more. You wanted to get it over with. You wanted Aegon’s cock inside you the way it was meant to be.

“Put it in,” you whined in his ear, “Please? I’m tired of waiting for it.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, wriggling his fingers inside you gently.

“Yes.” Also, time would run out soon once you reached The Red Keep.

“You’ve never had anything but my fingers and tongue in there,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, Aegon,” you scooped the precum that came from his tip to coat him, “I’m ready.”

“You couldn’t possibly-”

“-Aegon, you stumbled into my bedroom and begged me to let you put it in, and now that you have the chance to finally fuck me with your cock, you-Aegon!”

You would’ve finished your sentence if your new husband hadn’t suddenly plunged inside you. Aegon held onto the window across him, his other hand on your hip, as he gently began rocking against you. The new experience heightened your pleasure considerably. You did wince from the girth stretching you, but Aegon made up for it by continuing to tease your clit. He took it slow despite his obvious desperation to take you as he liked. Your wetness made it easier for him to glide through; he spat on the space between you both to add more fluid, though he still kept things gentle. You knew should you wish to stop, he’d pull out…however disappointed he may feel. But no, you didn’t want him to stop. You enjoyed how he split you open, penetrating you the way you always wanted him to. You thought about all the times you nearly let him take your maidenhead early, but you’re glad you didn’t.

“Gods…Y/N,” he huffed, hardly moving as he stayed bent over you, “I think I could cum like this…Having your tight, virgin cunt squeezing me…”

“I’d prefer if you…if you moved.”

“Oh?” He looked down at you with a cocky smirk, “You want me to rip you apart, huh? Like this?” he grabbed your hips and started charging into you smoothly. You squeaked at the tip prodding your insides, biting your lower lip as he continued. “How does that feel?”

Even with the hint of smugness in his tone, you knew he meant well. “Stings a bit,” you admitted, “But keep going, please. I’ve wanted this for such a long time.”

“You’re not the only one, love.”

He leaned down to kiss you, his thumb still working your sensitive clit while he started charging into you. You gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his shoulders, and stayed as still as the swaying carriage allowed. You knew you’d be reaching the castle soon. You imagined someone opening the door when you arrived, and seeing Aegon still buried inside you, grunting and moaning as your wet sex gripped him. Later on tonight, you knew it’d be a hundred times better with your maidenhead broken and your inhibitions looser from wine. But, right now, you cherished the moment despite the dwindling pain.

That pain washed out once Aegon began hitting the right spot. Your muscles clenched together, and you gripped Aegon’s shoulders tightly as your orgasm hit you. Aegon continued going, each thrust making you shudder and moan out his name. You were positive anyone the carriage passed could hear something; your driver surely could if he listened well enough. You couldn’t find it in you to care. This toppled the other times Aegon brought you to climax. It took hold of you, and you lost all conscious thought right at the peak. Right as yours ended, his began. He tilted his head back, eyes tightly shut as your sex milked him. You smiled hearing him say your name, telling you how good you felt and that he loved you.

“I love you…I love you…” he panted, finally relaxing on top of you and slowing his rocking.

He made a few more pumps, then carefully withdrew. A lingering ache stayed inside you when he pulled out, almost like a gap remained there. You stayed laying down on the pillows as Aegon sat up, resting against the wall. He looked down at you, then his eyes widened.

“Y/N,” he said, “You’re bleeding.”

“I guessed as much,” you grimaced. “Mother said it might. She said she bled a lot when Father took her maidenhead.” You feared sitting up, but you knew you’d have to eventually. Sitting up, the stinging became more apparent. “Damn, it stings.”

“I would have gone more gently if you hadn’t been so insistent,” he said, settling himself back into his breeches. He looked you over, then leaned over to kiss your cheek. “I’ll be more careful later on,” he whispered right as your carriage stopped, “When I can have you properly.”

You kissed him again when the door opened. As expected, your mother stood on the other side, clearly annoyed and furious. Seeing your skewed clothes and the smushed cushions, she had an idea of what happened. She pursed her lips, then stood aside for you both to climb out. You’re a married couple now, so there was not much she could say. When you stepped outside into the empty courtyard, Aegon walked ahead with his Kingsguard while she pulled you aside.

“We must go to your chambers,” she hissed in your ear, guiding you towards the doors, “Now. Thank the Gods there’s another gown.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Aegon, your husband, smirking at your back. He pointed down and mouthed ‘spot’. You knew you should feel ashamed, but it was hard when you knew the worst part passed and the best part was ahead of you.

[written-in-flowers]

Do you think you can go into more detail about Alicent catching Aegon going down on sister!reader 👀 that fic was so good and I love all the little mentions to things they’ve done together

Caught in the Act

Warnings: implied underage sex (consensual between two teens), cunnlingus, mentions of sex, being caught, Aegon not being a total sex god lol

Aegon always wanted to try it with you, especially after seeing it done in a brothel. He'd been younger then, and much less skilled in bed as he is now. But he saw how the woman reacted, and wanted to give you similar pleasure. He often felt, even at 16, that he did not do enough for you.

So when you two finished your lessons for the day, he brought you to his chambers where he claimed to have a surprise for you. Intrigued, you followed him and closed your eyes when bid. When you opened them again, Aegon was on his knees and already lifting your skirts. He explained what he wished to do, and the suggestion made your body heat ignite.

Kissing and caressing one another as clothes came off, the pair of you eventually ended up on the window sill. You sat on the ledge while he spread your legs apart. He'd only touched you here, so he thought kissing would be the same. Sliding his tongue around your folds, he only heard soft mewling that made him hard. He occasionally glanced up, hoping he was doing something, anything, to arouse you. You shifted around to guide him, so he tried following you.

By the time anything happened, his jaw and tongue ached slightly. "Aegon, my love, do you know what you're doing?" You asked, more amused than mad.

"I do," he defended, lying flat out. He'd die if you thought he could not pleasure you. "I've been taught by the finest brothel madams in the city."

"Then they were terrible teachers," you smiled, kissing him with reassurance. "I'll teach you."

And you did. The sounds you made were...so arousing. His tongue found the hard pearl between your velvety lips and slowly rolled around it. You moaned and grabbed his head to keep him there. He caught you gripping the ledge; he felt you trembling and tensing underneath him. He sucked the juices spilling from your entrance, which he dipped his tongue to taste and make you moan loudly. Soon, you were cumming and he groaned into your sex, satisfied that he'd brought you there. When you'd bent to kiss him, about to return the favor, a voice broke you apart.

"What are you two doing?!"

She startled both of you. Mother, in her green and gold gown and hair held back by a golden band, stood by the door in pure shock. Immediately, you both fell to the bed near the window, bashful and embarrassed by her presence. Aegon hid his erection under layers of sheets, and you put some over your naked form.

"He didn't put it, Mother," you blurted out in hopes to simmer her anger. "He was only..."

"I know what he was doing, Y/N," she said, that usual disappointing tone in her voice. "You two know better. Your both nearly grown, how can you be so thoughtless? Anyone walking by could've heard you. Ugh..." both of you could tell she'd forgotten her real reason for walking in unannounced. "Just get dressed. The both of you. I'll be sending Septa Jeyne to check on you. I cannot believe...Never in all my days..."

Silence followed her departure. Once you were sure she was gone, you reached through the blankets for his cock. "You heard Mother," he laughed, still hard but forcing it away, "Septa Jeyne will raise hell if she catches us." But your mischievous grin always melted his defenses. He kissed you passionately, and gave himself over to your expert hands and lips.

Septa Jeyne arrived right as he was helping you into your bodice. Mother never said anything about it, but Aegon suspects she preferred pretending she'd never seen it.

***

A/N: I wrote this at work, can’t you tell lmfao I absolutely love writing about dad!aegon and his sister-wife, so I’ll take requests on them any day <3

[written-in-flowers]

Aemond Targaryen x niece reader smut...

Lady Strong

Pairing: Aemond x Strong!Reader x Aegon | Side pairing: Aegon x Aemond

Warnings: female!reader, frenemies, arrange marriage, family feuds, threesome sex (M/M/F), bisexual sex, incest, slight dub-con, facesitting, oral sex (m and f giving/receiving), throat fucking, cock worship, dom/sub themes, bdsm themes, spit fetish, cum swapping, facials, dirty talk, name-calling, slight degradation, pussy slapping, spanking, anal sex, anal fingering, rimming, edging, double penetration, multiple positions, 

*** 

Your marriage to Aemond was a complete farce. You knew it; he knew it. A marriage between House Targaryen and House Velayron was a grabbing-at-straws attempt to ease tensions between them. But, you each knew that it’d be pointless to do so. Aemond made it clear what he thought of you and your family, and you’d learned to not like his in return. You’d been there the night he called you and your brothers ‘bastards’. You’d listened to his toast at a family dinner, where he toasted to the health of his niece and nephews:

‘Each of them handsome, wise...strong.’ 

How could your mother expect you to marry him after that? She could have picked any other man, but chose him in a weak attempt at making peace. You didn’t really like Aemond. He was cold, mean, intimidating, lethal, and impulsive. He hardly spoke to you during your courtship, and even less once you married. You didn’t mind it at all. You didn’t have to spend time with him, if you didn’t want to. For a young married couple, you did not share a bed. Both your chambers were connected by an apartment in between them. This made it easy for one to see the other if they needed to, but that rarely happened. You avoided Aemond’s company, if at all possible. 

There’s only one time you truly desire your husband’s company.

“Aemond?” 

You stood beside Aemond’s bed in your nightgown. Aemond laid naked underneath his sheets, soundlessly sleeping and unaware of your presence in his room. It was quite unnerving watching him sleep. He didn’t wear the eye patch to bed, so his sapphire eye remained open and glimmering. It was foolish, but you felt as if Aemond slept with one eye open at all times. You turned away from his eye to the rest of his body. Chiseled from years of training and exercise, Aemond went from a scrawny boy into a lean, tall man. Even with your sour feelings towards him, you couldn’t deny he’d become handsome. Women at court did not envy you though, since they found his disfigurement ghastly. 

“Aemond,” you said his name a bit louder, which caused him to slowly roll onto his side to face you. 

“What?” he replied groggily, not opening his closed eye. 

You walked over to the bed, gingerly taking his hand to put under your gown. A soft whimper escaped your lips at the light touch of his fingers on your sex. You guided his hand over your slit a few times before he sensed your wetness. He did not open his eye, yet that familiar crooked smirk crossed his face. You stayed standing, taking in his soft caresses. His thumb dragged over your clitoris in slow circular motions each time he went upwards. A familiar tightness began forming between your thighs as Aemond’s hand rubbed your pussy. You felt his long fingers brush across your entrance while he teased the pearl in your folds. 

“I wonder what made you so wet,” you heard his soft voice say to you. “Were you, perchance, thinking of me, dear wife?” 

“I may have...”

No, not ‘may have’. You’d never tell him that you’d been in bed remembering the last time you shared a bed. After a day of watching him in the training yard, you’d started picturing the taunt muscles underneath contracting in each movement. You thought about how his defined arm muscles whenever he propped himself above you; how hard his shoulders felt under your fingers when he thrusted into you. His thumb continued gradually circling your pussy while you thought about how his tongue felt so much better. He always kept it light and slow, knowing the feeling sent you into a blissful torture. 

“Would you like me to do what I did to you last time?” he asked, eyes focused on your soaked sex. You’re never wet enough for him. You could make yourself positively dripping before seeing him, and he’d still tease until he was satisfied. “I know how much you enjoyed it,” he said, rapidly rubbing your clit just to watch you tremble at his touch, “And I certainly did...especially when you came for me...because of me...because of me and my tongue...”

“Aemond...”

“Come have a seat,” he said, sliding further down on his bed and giving you space. “It’d be wrong of me to leave my wife wanting.”

Right away, you straddled Aemond’s head and sat on his face. A flood of pleasure washed over you as his tongue continued the same motions as his thumb. You’d made yourself already so sensitive, that your body became hyper-aware of his body against yours. Every lick made you weak. He flicked over the small nub of your clit, sliding from side to side and up and down gingerly. Each swipe sent dozens of nerves down to your core where the ball tightened. You tore off the sheets covering his lower half, and your mouth watered.

Another positive side to your marriage: Aemond’s cock. A little above average size, you simply liked looking at it sometimes. You took it in your hand, feeling it pulse in your palm, and slowly stroked. Blood pumped through the veins to make it harder, thicker and longer. Already, you imagined him balls deep inside you and taking you how he pleases. It stabbed your ego a bit to submit to a “Green”, but Aemond’s cock...how could you resist? Aemond groaned into your sex when you ran the flat of your tongue over his hardening shaft. You kissed every inch of it, worshipping the length and thickness in your hand; you reached down to the balls, heavy with cum and fitting perfectly in your hands, rolling them gently around while teasing his reddening tip. You traced the smooth skin of the bulb of his cock, latching your lips around for a gentle suck that made him groan into you again. The act on its own aroused you, and Aemond knew this. 

The strong, calloused hands that easily swung and twirled swords squeezed your ass tightly, giving each side a swift smack. His way of telling you to stop teasing him, but you didn’t obey. You loved teasing him. You continued slowly  swirling patterns along the shaft, feeling it tighten as he grew more aroused. You yelped once more when he smacked your ass again, growling into your pussy and making you squeal. When you didn’t take him in your mouth, but instead started playing with his balls again, Aemond’s hits became harder and sharper. No doubt your bottom will be feeling sore tomorrow. But, you didn’t care. Small shocks of pain combined with Aemond’s tongue fueled the arousal burning deep inside. You rocked your hips back and forth on his face, his chin and nose more apparent when you fully sat on his face, and started coating his length with precum. Aemond did not object at all. He hooked his arms around your thighs to keep you steady, and rapidly attacked your clit with his tongue. 

He moaned lowly when you finally slid him into your mouth. Nothing truly compared to Aemond inside you. Whether he slid into your mouth, cunt or, even sometimes, your ass, the feeling of him was addicting. Your families might not like one another, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t bed him. He was your husband. You’d never tell him how you touched yourself to thoughts of his cock sliding to your throat, droplets of precum spilling onto your tongue and mixing with your saliva so he went in smoother. You’d never say that you love it when he makes figure-eights on your clit and dips into your sex; that nothing brings you to orgasm faster than his long fingers probing your holes. Admitting that you’ve often peeked through his keyhole to watch him bathe after a long day would bring you no peace. 

Deciding your slow movements aren’t good enough, a large hand took hold of your hair and forced your head down. Finally. Your pussy throbbed as Aemond forced you to deep throat him. His tip pushed right into your throat over and over, causing you to gag and choke. Streams of saliva and precum came whenever you pulled away for breath; they fell from your open mouth back onto his wet cock. It only made you want more. Your pride sat aside while Aemond fucked your throat and tongued your pussy. Perhaps, somewhere deep down, you wanted to give him control. You wanted someone else to hold the reins. It became tiresome being the formidable daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, having to live up to her image and reputation. Aemond provided that, you supposed. As a soldier, he took orders often. 

With you, he can give orders. 

“Ride me,” he said, gripping your thighs and biting on the inner side, “Ride my cock however you please.” 

You did not protest. Sliding your sex down his body, you gasped once his cock brushed your sensitive cunt. Hands on the bed between his legs, you straddled his hips and rocked yourself over him. You went the entire length, only stopping when your clit touched his tip. His hands grasped your ass and gave it another smack, a demand for you to slide him inside your hot sex. 

“Don’t make me put it for you,” he grunted between his teeth, “If I do, I’m going to treat you like the little bastard whore you are.”

The words, at any other time, would send you into a rage. But right then, as you teased his cock between your folds, it only built up your arousal. Grabbing his base, you carefully pressed him to your entrance. The slight touch made your pussy throb around the tip pushing past it; you enjoyed hearing his frustrated groans as you teased him into you. The other of you moaned together when he fully filled you; your body tensed and clenched at the hard cock twitching against your walls. You closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in him. You forgot about the quarrels and reality outside his bedroom door, choosing instead to focus on Aemond Targaryen and how his cock made you see stars. Grasping the bed sheets beneath you, you started rocking yourself with him inside you, feeling his head slide further. Aemond laid still, content to watch him slide in and out of you, while you started moving faster. 

Soon, yours and his moans grew louder when you bounced on him. He always hit the exact spot, angling himself to the weak point that made you unravel for him. How could anyone blame you for wanting this every night? You sometimes considered sharing a bed to make things easier; so you could have this as much as you liked. Aemond never said ‘no’. You recalled the times he’d cornered you in staircases and hallways, pushing you to a wall and taking you there where anyone could find you. Every time, he left you with weak legs and cum sliding down your thighs. If you slept in the same bed, you could enjoy the benefits of having him as your husband. 

Aemond slipped himself out of you, leaving a gap between your thighs as he rolled you onto your back and brought an ankle to his shoulder. Putting the other over his thigh and around his waist, Aemond went back inside in a new angle that made you roll your eyes back. His thumb continued rubbing your clit as before while he slammed his hips to yours. He kept his focus between your bodies, and awed at how his girth stretched you. You remained still for him to use as he wanted, a hole for him to pump until he came. You clutched the sheets bundled against your chest, needing something to keep you grounded, as Aemond blinded you to all sense. 

“Look at you,” he growled bending to suck and bite at your breast. The small twinges of pain only added to your desire. “My Lady Strong, surrendering her body over to me. I cannot fathom how disturbed your brothers would be seeing their big sister being fucked senseless,” he emphasized this with a few hard thrusts, “Her sweet cunt stretched and filled by me...” he smiled when you moaned loudly through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut and fighting off the urge to cum a bit longer. “Or perhaps...they might be jealous...” he stayed fully inside you a moment, “That they’ll never know how your body feels. Only I know...Only I know how your cunt squeezes me and pulls me closer when I’m ravaging you.” 

Aemond slid a hand up your body to your throat, giving a gentle squeeze and turning your next moan into a strangle gurgle. His words should upset you, but it almost brought you to the edge. He kept a hold on your throat even when he slipped out and laid behind you, pushing into your pussy and having you that way. Aemond continued spewing filthy words into your ear, playing on the fact you enjoyed his dirty talk, while pounding you. His fingers abused your overstimulated clit and his lips sucked and bit at your shoulder and neck. 

“Aemond, Aemond,” you struggled to say his name, “Aemond...”

“Yes, Lady Strong?” he taunted, going deeper to hear you whine each time. “Do you have something to say or simply enjoy moaning my name? I personally prefer the latter.”

“Please,” you gasped when he released your throat, “Let me...Let-Le-Let me...”

“Cum? Is that what my lady wishes, hm?” 

“Y-Yes. I cannot hold on...hold on much longer, oh gods, Aemond, fuck, please.” 

“You’re going to,” he demanded, withdrawing from you right when you felt it approaching, “Until I decide you can.”

“You absolute arse-Ah, Aemond!”

He sunk down between your legs again and buried his face to your drenched clit. You stayed on your side, knee lifted, and grinded into his mouth. You wriggled each time his tongue swiped over your clit; it sent a whole new sensation that drew your orgasm forward. He snickered knowing what he was doing to you, and how you’d folded immediately for him. You hated it, but couldn’t help enjoying the feeling of his tongue flicking your pussy before spitting on it. Sliding a hand into his silky silver hair, you kept him right where you wanted him as he dipped his tongue into your fluttering hole. You used his tongue, the tip of his nose brushing your clit while his chin cupped the underside. Aemond did not protest to you quite literally fucking his face. He loved it, and showed that while groaning small vibrations with his tongue. Yet, the moment your body began to tense and shake, he pulled away from you and laughed at your disappointed whimper. 

Aemond said nothing as he dragged you by the ankle to the edge of the bed, the movement requiring no effort for him with all his strength. Propping you onto your knees, Aemond spat on your pussy again, rolling his wet tongue over it before spitting once more. He loved your sex sloppy and wet. It excited him whenever you came to him already soaked and wanting. Satisfied with his work, he sunk back inside and grabbed both your arms. Pulling them behind your back, he bounced your body on his pelvis in a steady rhythm. The restraint would ache your body later, but nothing in you cared about later. The new position made you nearly scream from the pleasure coursing inside you. You tried so hard to chase your climax on your own; you needed it badly, and Aemond knew that. 

“Well, well, well,” another voice said, and you immediately felt ashamed. “What do we have here?”

You turned your head to see Aegon walk up to the bedroom area of the apartment, leaning against the divider frame on the top step. Violet eyes gazed over your naked, sweaty form as Aemond continued using you. He wore his traveling cloak, shirt and breeches. No doubt he’d just returned from the city and planned to visit his brother with a bottle of wine he’d brought. Shame crept up on you being exposed to the young prince this way. You hated how his eyes drank in the scene before him, immediately locking on you and your naked body. He walked over to the bed, smirking and crossing his arms, and said, “Looks like Lady Strong is finally being put in her place by my little brother...Is this what you like? Being fucked like a whore just like your mother?”

“Fuck you,” you spat at him, but he only laughed at the reaction. 

“They really get riled up whenever we mention it, don’t they?” Aegon asked his brother, who’d stopped thrusting. He knelt on the bed in front of you, Aemond lifting you until your back touched his chest. Both brothers chuckled once they saw the state of you. Aegon pinched your chin, causing you to look at him, “Such lovely lips,” he said, pushing drool from your chin back into your mouth, “I think I’m going to enjoy having them wrapped around my cock.” 

“You’d be surprised the things this one can do with her mouth,” Aemond groaned, bottoming his hips into you so you opened your mouth in a moan. “She certainly enjoys sucking my cock whenever given the chance.”

Aegon huffed and hurriedly untied his breeches. Aemond let you fall forward onto the bed until Aegon lifted you onto your hands by the hair. Holding himself at level with you, he slipped easily into your mouth. It felt strange having a soft dick in your mouth, the velvety skin rubbing over your tongue and reaching your throat. Aemond continuing to use your cunt, your moans became muffled by Aegon’s cock. You couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. Giving into your mother’s enemies, even if married to one, was not what you’d planned when you came to Aemond. Yet, both Targaryen men did not seem to care. Slowly, Aegon grew harder and moaned louder when he started hitting the back of your throat. Drool started leaking from your lips, the sound of your gagging encouraging both men further. Each thrust left you desperate for air and tightness in your chest. But, you liked this feeling. You enjoyed the slight restriction it gave every time he did it. The combination of sensations burning your body brought you close to your orgasm again. 

Deeming himself hard enough, removed his shirt as his brother withdrew from you again. 

“Has she finished at all?” Aegon smirked, removing his clothes with his stiff member sticking up to his stomach. 

“Not at all,” Aemond flipped you onto your back in the middle of the bed. He lifted your legs so Aegon could see your swollen, throbbing pussy, which made you feel more humiliated. “I never let her until she’s given me what I want. Isn’t that right, Lady Strong?” he slapped your pussy hard, which made you whine and buck your hips around. Your reaction made both brothers laugh out loud. He spread your legs apart, leaning over your hips, and spanked your sex a few more times. “Isn’t it?” he asked again, spitting on your pussy and slapping it again, “Answer me, whore.”

“Yes, yes!” you cried when he gave a particularly hard slap, “Yes...”

“Let me try her out.” 

Aegon forced your knees to your stomach until you folded in half. Unlike his brother, he did not tease or go slowly. He forced himself fully into you, moaning and shutting his eyes when you encompassed him. Pinned down by your own body, you could only lay there and let him have his way. He wasn’t as long as Aemond, but you definitely felt him stretch you. His head hit right where you became weakest, causing your thighs and knees to tremble each time he touched it. Aemond’s hand rubbing and spanking your clit only heightened your pleasure. You couldn’t believe it. You felt so ashamed, yet so aroused by it. 

“Clean my cock,” Aemond prodded his head to your mouth, “Clean me up before I go back in.”

You weakly opened for him, immediately tasting yourself on his length. Your jaw began aching from having your mouth open so long, but you enjoyed it too much to care. A thick mixture of fluids gave Aemond easy entry, and he slid fully to you throat. It hurt being breached so many times in one night. He kept you still by the hair, thrusting in while also rapidly and lightly running his fingers over your clit. You could feel your eyes tear from the pressure building and being withheld from you every time Aegon pumped into you. He pulled out of your mouth, streaks of fluids leaking from his tip, and tapped it onto your face. 

“Filthy whore,” he sneered, wiping his wet cock over your face and mouth, “I suppose it is true what they say about bastards: They truly are products of sin and lust.”

“And this one is a very nice product,” his brother agreed.

Aegon kept himself on his fists as he went faster. His eyes stayed focused on his brother using your mouth. You saw the laughter behind his eyes. The satisfaction he must be feeling seeing his niece be used this way. It disgusted you, yet you wanted him to make you cum so much you gave him a pleading look. When your pussy tightened around him, he instantly pulled out and laughed at your wriggling. He continued smiling as he instantly started licking your pussy, not minding the various fluids leaking from it. Aemond stopped teasing your clit to let Aegon take over, and went to pinching your nipples with his wet hand. He rolled both between his fingers at the same as Aegon flicking you, both of them being merciless in their teasing. You nearly came several times during this, though each stopped once they sensed it. You almost cried from the denial. 

“Aw, is our cock sleeve crying?” Aemond teased, slapping himself on your cheeks where he saw tears. “Is this too much for you?”

“Ye-yes,” you nodded, “Please, let me cum. Please.”

“But, we’re not finished,” he said as if it were obvious. “If you’re a good toy for us, we’ll let you cum as much as you want, but for now, this is about our pleasure, not yours. Understand?” he smacked your face with his cock again before putting it back into your mouth, not giving a chance to respond. 

“My brother is insanely lucky,” Aegon’s voice remained muffled by the clit in his mouth, “Having the luscious, gorgeous Lady Strong all to himself whenever he pleases...If only the Gods favored me so...” 

“I wouldn’t mind sharing,” Aemond said, pushing back into your mouth. “We are brothers, after all, and our mother always said sharing brings people closer.”

“So much closer.” He swirled his tongue over your pussy, fingers dipping and curling inside you suddenly, and continued the torture so you moaned around Aemond’s cock. “But, there is one hole I think my brother hasn’t tried yet,” 

He pulled out his fingers, coated in your slick, and went down to your buttocks. You jolted when he slid his fingers between them; he didn’t mind them being squished down, as long as you felt his fingers brush your hole. 

“Trust me,” Aemond sighed, forcing himself deep in your mouth, “I have many times. She loves it. She’s never cummed harder than when I’ve fucked her ass.” 

“Is that so?” Aegon asked, continuing to rub your ass hole while licking your clit. “I’d love to test that for myself.” 

“At least let me fuck her while you do that,” he grunted back, “I fear I might finish if I stay in her perfect mouth any longer.”

“Fine.”

Aegon moved away as you weakly straddled Aemond again. They kept you pressed to Aemond, who brought you into a deep kiss, while Aegon guided Aemond’s dick into your pussy. Your pussy still filled once more, you began bouncing on him out of habit. The brothers laughed at your desperation.

“Look at her,” Aegon laughed, giving your ass a spank, “So desperate for our cum, isn’t she? Do not fret, Lady Strong, you will get it soon.”

“Very soon,” Aemond held you down against him, continuing to kiss you while slowly pushing up inside you. 

The thing that drove you wild was feeling Aegon spread your ass cheeks apart. His tongue started sliding around the rim, occasionally sliding up to your crack and back down to where you and Aemond met. Aemond huffed whenever he did this. You could’ve sworn the elder brother licked over his balls once or twice, before returning to your ass. Keeping you spread open, Aemond whimpered at the slight teasing your heat brought. His tongue brushed around yours in each deep kiss, more fluids leaving your mouths. 

“He’s going to fuck you in your ass,” Aemond said in your ear, biting at your throat, “And you’re going to love every second of it.”

“Wait...”

“Don’t worry, love,” he said, “It only hurts for a moment. Aegon will be gentle with you...Oh, fuck, fuck, Aegon...”

You heard a soft humming come from below, and knew what Aegon did to Aemond. It excited you somehow. The thought of the two brothers locked in a passionate embrace some drunken night long ago made you start riding Aemond again. They let you enjoy this pleasure for a short time, however, before a finger slipped into your ass. The feeling alien and surreal, your eyes closed to savor the new pleasure burning you alive. Your body began feeling weak and pliable; they could do whatever they wished, as long as you were allowed to finally cum. Aegon kept his fingers at a gentle pace while he focused his tongue elsewhere. You knew where based on how Aemond’s head tilted into the pillow and his nails dug into your flesh. Aegon even pulled him out of you at one point, and you heard soft humming come from below, a bit of spitting before putting him back inside you. 

Soon, you felt something hard push to your hole. Thicker and harder than fingers, you braced yourself for the plunge. Aegon went inch by inch, giving you a second to adjust before going further. Aemond held you close, kissing you softly and muttering encouragements while his brother went hilt-deep into your ass. Having both brothers fully inside you completely undid you. They each slowly thrusted together, both of them hitting each side of the same spot. 

Neither of them stopped you once you came. You came hard and loud when they finally started going faster. Aegon teased your nipples while Aemond rubbed your clit to add more fuel to it all. Your screams filled the space of the bed, your orgasm hitting you hard and making your body contract. Your muscles shook as you feverishly pushed back into both cocks. You never imagined having two before. It felt better than anything else Aemond has ever done to you on his own. When you started coming down, trembling and quaking between them, they each withdrew from you and let you flop onto the bed below. Rather than stroke themselves...

Aegon and Aemond stroked each other. It seemed to heighten the pleasure for them both, making them both gasp and whine as they orgasmed. You laid there, touching your sore sex, as you watched them jerk each other off. Aemond’s large hand moved swiftly and easily over Aegon’s leaking cock, while Aegon squeezed the tip of Aemond’s each time he went to it. You wondered, as you begged them to cum on you, how many times they’ve done this. You wanted to see them do it again. Soon, the droplets of semen started spraying from their tips onto your body, leaving streaks of hot cum on your breasts and face. You kept your mouth open for whatever drops reached your mouth, which excited both of them further. 

When they finally finished, Aegon and Aemond fell onto the bed with you. You felt sticky, sweaty, and sore, yet also satisfied and elated from the sex. You thought it’d ended before Aegon started licking cum from you to put into your mouth with kisses. Aemond laid content to watch his brother kiss his wife, enjoying the sight of their tongues swapping what he’d just sprayed over you. This was usually the part where you wiped yourself clean, pulled on your gown, and left Aemond alone. However, your body became heavy with exhaustion and you doubted you’d be going anywhere. 

“How do you feel?” Aemond asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he rolled onto his side. 

“Tired.”

“She’s not the only one,” Aegon said in a stretch, “It’s been too long, Brother. Far too long.”

“I agree.” He pecked your lips softly, and whispered, “Stay here with me. I like keeping you close when I’ve finished breaking you apart...” 

The way he phrased it made you deepen his next kiss. By no means did you heart warm or melt at the kiss. These men will no doubt make it known what you’d done here today, whether in snide remarks near your mother or insults to your brothers. They’ll bring it up to silence you during arguments or simply to watch you turn away shamefully. Perhaps you’ll do the same by bringing up how Aemond nearly came when Aegon licked his balls. You kissed Aemond deeper, feeling a hand slide between your thighs. 

You’d learn that Targaryen lust is absolutely insatiable. 

****

A/N: Wow, that really took a turn lol I know it was meant to be only Aemond x Niece, but I couldn’t help it with the TGC brain rot I’ve been experiencing. Hope you guys liked this one! <3 

[written-in-flowers]

Aegon ii Targaryen x wife smut please??

a/n: I got two more of the same, so I'm just putting them all together lol Hope you all like it as always <3 feedback is always appreciated <3

***

Okay, okay, so he's a bit drunk, but has that ever bothered you before? Stumbling into your chambers late at night, the heat from the alcohol reddened his pale cheeks and kept him from standing upright. A long night of hopping from tavern to tavern, groping serving women, gambling all his coin away, and watching two men brawl in the street, Aegon craved the comfort of his bed. His brain felt slightly fuzzy from the ale he'd piled himself with, and he leaned against the first piece of furniture he reached. He shut his eyes for a moment, shaking his head, but this only made him dizzier.

"Rough night, my love?"

Aegon looked further into the chamber, where he saw the bath tub placed near the crackling fire. Your nakedness was the first thing he noticed. His eyes glued themselves to the tops of your breasts where the water surface began. Aegon fumbled with the clasp of his cloak, laughing softly at the sight of you. In his drunken haze, he'd forgotten the slight bump in the middle of the water. Your baby. His baby. The child you'd created together eight months ago swelled his wife's belly slowly but surely. The maester told him rigorous activity is to be avoided considering the princess's delicate condition, but Aegon could keep it gentle. Something about seeing you pregnant brought out a glow in you. It aroused him to see you full with his child; carrying the newest Targaryen born to his legacy. Another little dragonrider, like his brothers and sisters.

Four children later, and he still finds you to be the most desirable woman in all Seven Kingdoms. He might pinch a bottom or stare at naked breasts when in his eyeline, but no woman in the world compared to how you made him feel. Finally managing to discard his cloak, he tore off his stained shirt as he walked over to you. Messy, greasy waves of silver fell in his face, but he kept you in his sights.

"Nearly lost everything I had on me because a man got his second wind half way towards the end of a fight," he said, working on the strings of his breeches, but his fingers clumsily knotted them by accident. The heat of arousal started working its way through his lower half. "Then, I watched these two whores get into a fight over this old, fat lord who'd come walking in with pockets full of gold."

"So, it was exciting at least?"

"It was." He grunted to himself as he managed to undo the knot, "I wish you'd come. You haven't gone outside the keep in a long time." He snorted when he finally undid the lacings and tugged down the breeches. He saw your eyes twinkle at the sight of his flaccid dick. "I miss us going out together."

"You know I don't like leaving the keep when I'm pregnant," you said, your fingers trailing through the soapy water. "Besides, we have children now, Aegon. We can't run off into the city, frolicking around like two unhinged, shameless scoundrels anymore."

"I'd hardly call you a 'scoundrel'," he nearly fell down taking off his boots, but he kept himself firmly on the ground. Aegon specifically asked for a large tub when you finally married. He knelt beside the tub, using the edge to keep himself steady, "You were a goddess." He pushed hair from your face and stared at you fondly. "I remember the time we both went to The Blue Pearl, and we had sex with those Dornish twins?"

"Aegon," you giggled and patted his cheek, "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough that I can't get it up for you," he smirked, cupping your chin to kiss you. "I remember," he looked at you with lust in his eyes, "You laying right next to me as one girl kissed your lips and the other kissed your pretty cunt..." He briefly kissed you again. You never minded the wine or beer or ale on his lips. He put his hand in the lukewarm water, trying to find your thighs before asking, "Why is the water so tepid?"

"It's as hot as the maesters will allow."

"Dragons need heat," he said, running his hand on your belly. "Looks like you need me to keep warm."

"I'm pregnant, Aegon," you said between his kisses, "We're meant to take things gently."

"I'll give it to you gently, my love," he replied, pecking your lips. "Let me help you out. Our bed is warmer."

He lifted you to your feet, and removed the linen dress you'd worn into the tub. Your wet, naked body glistened in the fire light nearby. His eyes drank up the heavy curves of your body as it adapted to the new life growing inside you. Aegon brought you into his arms, slowly kissing you while he brought you towards the bed nearby. His body sobered up immediately at the possibility of bedding you. You rested back on the pillows, and he rested himself between your legs. He stayed bent over you, your belly keeping him at a distance, and kissed you deeply. He hardened when his hand found your breast, growing cold and hard from the recent change from warm to cold. He continued going down your neck to one nipple, and gave a soft peck.

"We did have some fun times, didn't we?" you sighed, running your hands in his hair while he started suckling your breast. "The horseback races are still my favorite."

"Especially when we're on the same horse," he said, "And my cock just happens to slide right inside you." He rolled his tongue over your hardened nipple, flicking it right over the center. "I don't think you ever came as hard or as quickly before."

"I couldn't help it," you giggled, grinding yourself into him so he whimpered on your skin. "Being in front of all those people, the horse galloping and bucking fast down the street, and having your hard cock buried in me...It felt even better when we stopped and you finished in me."

Aegon felt your sex brush lightly against his cock, and he couldn't help grinding back into you. Your lips found his again as you shifted around to grab him. It'd been too long. His body let him know that with how quickly the blood in his pumped through his member. He tried not fucking you during pregnancies, because they can be so delicate, but he can't help it tonight. Your breasts in his hands, your hand gliding over his shaft and your lips locked with his own, the fire inside him burned hot. Too hot. His tongue brushed up against yours as you opened your mouth for him; your soft moans went into his, and he replied with his own.

"The children?" he asked quickly, pecking at your chest again.

"All asleep," you told him. "Mya and I put them down hours ago."

This information encouraged him to go farther. Nothing ruined a moment more than being hilt-deep in your wife and one of your children barges in, crying about a nightmare. Aegon kissed down your body, stopping at the middle for extra kisses, before reaching the middle of your thighs. He ran his hands up and down them as he peppered kisses on your inner thighs. Your pussy, his favorite thing in the entire world, sat right in front of him. Aegon knew from the first time you made love that he'd never find another one like yours. He thought back to those Dornish twins, who lapped and sucked your clit while he slid his dick into your mouth. You two had many fun excursions into sexual deviance together, but nothing compared to a nice one-on-one with the light of his life. Finally, he ran his tongue over the very center when he felt you shudder in his hands. Your belly kept him from seeing your expressions, but this didn't matter. It was your sounds that aroused him. Aegon gyrated against his mattress while he traced his tongue lightly over each fold, before taking it in his mouth to suck on lightly. Every brush on the soft sheets made him groan into you, vibrating around your throbbing clit each time. Soon, he tasted your slick, juices on his tongue and went faster.

He then heard you giggle and looked up, "What? Are you not feeling anything?"

"No, no, keep going," you insisted, pushing his head down. "I was remembering the first time Mother caught you doing this to me..."

"Oh," he chuckled, getting back to business, "So do I. She was horrified. You'd think she'd never seen it before."

"To be fair," you sighed, eyes closed and head into the pillows, "I was sitting on the window ledge naked where anybody could see or hear me."

"That's what made it fun though," he smiled, kissing your soaked sex again. "I recall the sweet little noises you made while I did it," he hummed on you, "And how hard you came right when she walked in." He slipped a finger inside you without warning, which made you jerk for a moment before adjusting to his finger, "I also remember my jaw hurting after that."

"Well, if you'd been honest and told me that you had no idea what you were doing," you said, "We wouldn't have had that problem."

"I definitely know what I'm doing now, though, don't I?" He added a second finger and began pumping them into you while his thumb rubbed your clit. "Don't I, Wife? Don't I?"

"Yes, yes, you do!"

So much so it resulted in multiple pregnancies. Aegon continued humping the bed while fingering you. He listened to your whimpers and cries whenever he stopped, taking a break with his hand and using his mouth on you instead. He thought back to the first time he tasted you. He'd seen two women doing it in a brothel, and wanted to do it to you. It'd been your idea to do it on the window. He'd spent ages figuring out which spots made you squeal; what spots had you whimpering and begging him to stay there and keep going. When you finally climaxed, he didn't even notice his mother there. Aegon had been too caught up in his own satisfaction to care; right then, he knew he'd never want another one. He'd only crave yours.

The moment he couldn't take his own teasing anymore, he knelt in front of you and aligned himself with your body. He looked down to see you panting, licking your lips and pleading with him. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight before. In a swift movement, Aegon slid himself into your hole all the way to the base. Pinned deep inside you, he remained there a few seconds to enjoy your pussy throbbing. Your walls hugged his length, as if pulling him further in, and he could feel your clit wetting the pubic patch above. He loved every second of it. Aegon swore he could cum simply staying inside you long enough. But, judging by your winding hips, he knew what you wanted...what you needed. The last time had been so quick and so long ago, he wanted to take his time. He kept a gradual, gentle speed while he rubbed your clit with his hands: both his thumbs kept rubbing over it one after the other, massaging and keeping it hard while he rocked back and forth. As much as he enjoyed watching you squirm, he really wished to pound you into the bed.

"Do you still enjoy it?" you asked, pulling him down to you for a kiss.

"Enjoy what?" he asked in your kiss, "What? This?"

"Yes..."

"Of course, I do," he hooked his arms under your shoulders, bringing you even closer, and began bottoming up into you. "I love nothing more, in all fairness." He kissed along your jaw to your ear, "Why? Did you suddenly stop liking this?"

"I've had four children, Aegon."

"So?"

"Mother says it loosens up over time," your head tilted back as he started picking up his pace, "I worry...I worry one day I might not be tight enough-"

"-Trust me," he laughed, eyes closing as your pussy clenched him, "You are plenty tight for me, my love. Always have been. You'll get no complaints from me."

Staying pressed against you, looking at your face and kissing you, both of you came together. Your fingers intertwined with his at your sides, and your legs went around his waist to bring him even closer. The only time Aegon ever felt close to anyone; the only time his heart and mind became one with another person was when he was with you. All thoughts of his drunken night in King's Landing faded away at the arrival of your trembling, shaking, hard orgasm. You chanting his name as he kept the right rhythm was better than any tune a bard can sing. Aegon withdrew in time to avoid finishing within you, letting it spill onto your thigh inside while he buried his face into the pillow to muffle his groans.

The post-orgasm glow came in the form of soft kisses and cuddling naked on the bed. He'd clean you up later, of course, but right then he wanted to hold you. You two did not have moments like this very often; there's usually a child nearby or about to come around the corner for something. So, for the moment, Aegon soaked up whatever bit of you he can before morning.

"When I have the baby," you said, watching him fight off sleep to look at you, "We should go into town together like we used to. I'll put on my peasant girl clothes, and we can run amok as we did when we were younger." You smiled, "Maybe go on another horse ride together?"

"Or visit The Blue Pearl," he added, eyes half-open. "Those twins probably aren't there, but gods they had good wine and pretty girls."

"And boys."

"And boys."

You pecked his lips one final time as the pair of you drifted off to sleep. He'll regret the drinking in the morning, when he's surrounded by his children at breakfast, but he wouldn't regret fucking you. He never did. ****

A/N: yaaay more Aegon content! I really like writing dad!Aegon, so I'll probably do more of him.

[written-in-flowers]

Hi! I really love your Otto-writings

Just imagine…

You (female reader) wake up in the night and someone (daemon / Otto / aegon / aemond) is sitting by your bed... drunk and sleepless…

AN/: oooh I liked this one. I almost made the nsfw route with this one, but I've been feeling soft lately, so I made it fluffy. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Targ!Reader (sister-wife, so incest)

***

The Night Before The Rest of Our Lives

It began with a feeling. Your subconscious mind tapped your shoulder to wake you from a dreamless sleep. You knew the hour was late by the pitch blackness outside, and the stillness of the world around you. Yet, even with your eyes shut, you knew something was wrong. Your body instinctively curled into a fetal position as the strange sensation crept over you. Through blurry eyes, you caught a faint orange-yellow glow of a lantern casted on the wall across from you. Your maids doused the fireplace hours ago, and you’d personally put out the candles. Either someone came back and accidentally left it, or someone broke into your room. But, then you remembered the feast, and you knew who it was. Your body suddenly relaxed, and a smile crept on your face. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping, Brother?”

You rolled over to see Aegon sitting at the table slouched in the chair. He wore a vest with the lacings loosened, a long shirt, brown breeches and boots still. You could tell by the pitcher and wine cup, he’d continued drinking long after the celebration feast ended. Hours ago, you and him sat in the grand hall of the Red Keep the eve of your wedding day. You danced, sang, drank and ate together. You both were the young, happy couple everyone toasted and congratulated. For once, people celebrated a happy union, instead of a political one. You’d gone to bed when the feast ended, but it appeared Aegon kept it going on his own. Aegon sitting slumped in a chair with a wine cup in his hand wasn’t unusual to you. In fact, you expected it of him. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered. “Mother was talking to me…something about marriage and duty and honor…”

“Marriage, duty and honor?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking into his wine cup, “I tuned her out halfway through. I don’t see what the fuss is all about. We’ll be married tomorrow.” He frowned when he realized his cup was empty. You watched him feel around for the pitcher handle, and focus on pouring into his cup. You heard him groan disappointedly. “You have any wine left in here?”

“No,” you answered, trying not to laugh at him. “I drank it all.”

“What? Without me? Your older brother and your betrothed? Shame!” He let the empty cup fall to the floor and sat back in the chair again. “This time next week, you’re going to have two reasons to respect me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’ll be your husband as well as your older brother,” he nodded sagely. He looked around your table to see another wine cup. He reached for it and frowned when he upturned the empty cup. “And as your brother-husband, my first demand is that we have at least two jugs of the best wine in our bedroom. That way, we can get drunk together and then have long, passionate, ravenous sex all night.” 

You laughed at his statement, “So, you’re telling me you’ll only lie with me when you’re drunk?” you pouted and batted your eyes. 

“Well,” he thought for a moment, “Maybe not entirely drunk…Reasonably drunk…A drink-or-two-or-three drunk, if you will.” He gave up his quest for wine, and remained in the chair. “But, we’ll definitely still have wine in our room. Perhaps we can spill it on each other and lick it off.”

This is how you knew he was drunk: he’d speak very plainly about the obscene, lewd acts he wanted to do with you. You sat up in your bed, knees drawn up to your chest, “Why are you in here, Aegon? Mother’s sleeping in the next room, and she’ll be furious if she finds you in here.”

“Psh,” he scoffed, “As if I care. You’re going to be my wife in…about nine hours or so… Why does it matter if I sleep in your room with you?”

“She doesn’t want you ‘impregnating’ me.”

“If I wanted to ‘impregnate’ you, Sister, I’ve had plenty of opportunities before now,” he said. “Like when we went to Lady Laena’s funeral on Driftmark and you let me put my hand up your dress, or the time you caught me knocking one out in my room and decided to give me an extra hand…In truth, Y/N, it’s you she should be worried about. Not me.”

“I’m afraid she does worry for me.”

Your mother, Queen Alicent, made it clear on many occasions that your actions did not befit a Princess. You liked gambling, fighting, and drinking. You snuck out at night with Aegon to brothels, taverns, pot-shops, markets, and cock-fighting pits. You liked living. You hated the stuffy, silent, reflective life your mother wanted you to live; constantly praying to The Seven and living by the moral codes of pious men in scratchy robes. You and Aegon must always be upstanding, respectable, perfect images to comply with the family image your mother spent years curating for the realm. Any time you and Aegon were caught together anywhere, she scolded you both. Princesses are not supposed to get drunk and dance half naked in a brothel. They’re not supposed to let their betrothed fondle their breasts, or stick her hand in his pants as he did so. You did everything she asked of you. You loved her, and you did your best to please her. You went to her lessons, learned the right skills, and played the princess role perfectly. Aegon made it difficult for her, because he’s much more stubborn than you, so you tried being more compliant than him. 

“She purposefully moved into the chambers next to mine to spy on me,” you said. Judging by the night sky, your mother is most likely fast asleep and won’t hear either of you. “She’s been sending that nosey bitch Talia in here to ‘check on me’,” you rolled your eyes. 

Aegon smirked, “I don’t think Talia’s going to be coming in here…”

“Why?” you eyed him curiously. 

He dug into his pocket and withdrew a key hanging from a white ribbon. You both stared at each other and then laughed. “Your deviance never ceases to amaze me, Aegon,” you said, shaking your head and giggling. “How’d you get it?”

“I bumped into her while walking down the stairs, and picked it from her pocket unawares,” he said, twirling the key between his fingers. “They all think I’m a drunken idiot. I used to hate it, but I realize it comes with lots of benefits.” He turned his head towards the door nearby, then back to you, “They all look down on me.”

“They can’t look down on you. You’re a prince. They’re servants.”

“They do anyways. They all act like they’re better than me. I see how they look at me when I come back from the city; how they try hiding their disgusted eyes and whisper behind their hands. I know they whisper about me. They talk about how I’m not worthy enough to be Father’s heir, how I bring shame to our family, and why does Mother even bother with me?” you saw the despondency in his eyes as he studied the key. You watched him slide the ribbon between his fingers, threading it through the hole at the top. “They act as if they’ve never gotten drunk or fucked a whore in their lives.”

“I’m quite sure at least some of them haven’t,” you said. 

“Then they should try it. Perhaps they won’t be so judgemental then.” He continued playing with the key, “It’s why I love being with you. You don’t look down on me. Everyone in our family acts like I’m a nuisance…everyone but you.” He looked back at you, “I can be myself with you.” He hesitated, eyes gazing over your face before he said, “I hope you feel the same?”

“Of course I do, you idiot,” you smiled. “What could make you think I don’t?”

“Aemond.”

“Aemond?”

“And that he’s a better match for you than I am,” he explained. “He’s always reading and training. He rides Vhagar. He…He wants to be king. You should be with someone who’ll be a good king; not a drunk like me.” 

You slid off your bed and walked over to him. Aegon let you sit in his lap to hug him around his neck. “Aemond might be tall, smart, and strong, but he’s also a complete twat. He’s not as fun as you.” You looked down at him, pecking his lips softly, “You’re not the only one they look their noses down at. I’m a princess. I’m supposed to be graceful and virtuous like Mother and Helaena. I learned all the skills Mother wanted me to have: I can play the harp and pipe. I can speak three different languages. I can recite religious texts backwards and forwards, and still, it isn’t enough. I know what they say behind my back,” you twirled one of the strings of his vest idly. “They call me a…” 

‘Whore’. You’ve never touched another man besides Aegon in your life, yet those little rats in the kitchens called you that. Aegon saw the embarrassment in your eyes, and Aegon cupped your chin. 

“You’re not a whore,” he said softly. “You’re a lady…You just like having a bit of fun from time to time. It’s nothing different to what they’d do if given the chance.” 

He put his hand around the nape of your neck to pull you close and kiss you. Aegon’s kisses, while full of wine or ale, sent a comforting warmth through you. Suddenly, only Aegon existed in the world. Your hand went through his silver blond locks, fisting some of it to keep his head in place while you kissed. His lips caressed yours open, and his tongue slid between them. 

“Can I see them?”

“What?” you laughed, your cheeks heated up. “No, Aegon. Someone might walk in here any minute.” It’ll be harder for Talia to prove anything if you’re both still dressed. 

“She won’t. I locked the door behind me when I broke in,” he insisted. His hand left your neck for the neckline of your chemise, “Come on,” he teased, giving it a small tug, “Just a peek? I miss them so much.”

“You’ll see ‘them’ tomorrow.”

“That’s too long,” he whined, peppering kisses on your throat. You giggled at the rough hairs tickling your skin. “Come on, be reasonable,” he continued whining, “I have not touched or come after you for a fortnight. Do I not deserve a reward for my restraint?” 

“Restraint? Mother caught you looking through my keyhole a few nights ago!”

“And I could have walked in and finished you off, but I didn’t, did I?” he reasoned. His expression changed back to flirtation, “Not that you would’ve minded. I knew what you were doing in here, you naughty little girl.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied innocently. “I was in here reading like any normal princess would be after a long celebration.”

“Oh yes, ‘reading’. You were reading that book you bought from the Lysene girl, and touching that sweet,” he licked his lips, “Warm cunt of yours.” He slid a hand on your thigh, your dress riding up with it. “I saw you looking at one of the pages, your legs spread and your hand between your thighs. I couldn’t see much, but Gods, I could hear you.” You shuddered, feeling his bare hand on your thigh, trailing up and down it while he kissed the other side of your neck. “I wanted to walk right in here and give my beautiful wife a hand.”

“But then Mother came.”

“But then Mother came,” he repeated irritably. “Please, Y/N, let me see them. I promise it'll only be a peek."

"Don't you want to make tomorrow special?" You suggested playfully, enjoying his pleading. "It will have been a full fortnight that you haven't touched me. Wouldn't it be more rewarding?" You brushed your lips over his before kissing him. 

"It's already tomorrow," he whined in your kiss. 

"Then you only need to wait a few more hours."

Realizing he wouldn't be getting his way, Aegon left his hand on your thigh and rested his head on your shoulder. He'd drunk his weight in wine, rendering him incapable of arousal to begin with, yet the idea of making him wait longer amused you. It was nice dangling yourself over him, watching him drool for you. He occasionally kissed your neck or gripped your thigh, but he knew you'd never give in. 

"I can't wait until you're mine," he slurred, sloppy kisses down your chest. "Then, I can have you whenever I wish."

"Oh? Whenever you wish, eh?"

"Yes," he said, lips on your breast, "I'd be your lord husband, and as my wife, it'd be your duty to let me have you as I please."

You laughed, "And what about me?"

"What about you, hm?"

"What if I," you pulled his chin up to look at you, "Want to have you as I wish?"

"There'd be no complaints from me, I assure you, sweet Sister," he gave a lopsided smile and kissed you. "However you like," he continued, "Anywhere you like."

"Aegon…"

"I'll be as rough or as gentle as my lady wife wishes," he said. He cupped your breast through your dress, smiling at your soft gasp. 

You shut your eyes as his lips went further down your chest. He hadn't shaved, so the rough hairs on his chin scratched your skin. You liked it. You felt warmth surging between your thighs at the touch of his hand on your thigh. His hot mouth kissed right over your nipple, his teeth grazing it through the fabric. The gentle touches almost broke your resolve, but you withstood it. 

"No, Aegon," you forced him to stop. "Is it even getting hard?"

"Not really," he huffed, resting his head on your shoulder. "It must be the wine…my least favorite thing about it…" he nuzzled your neck, smiling when it made you giggle. "Mother said she's surprised we even waited."

"She must've believed I'd be with child by now. I suspect she worried we'd end up in some sort of scandal that would rock the very foundations of this castle. Imagine it, Aegon," you whispered, "A princess who mothered bastards."

He smirked at your meaning. "That would be absolutely scandalous," he agreed, "So much so that our father will cut out the tongue of anyone who dares to speak the truth, even when it sits in his face, white with dark curly hair instead of dark with silver hair."

Your older sister, Rhaenyra, was your father's favorite child. Allowed to skip about and do what she pleased, nobody was surprised when her three sons turned out to have none of the typical Targaryen features. Even though their father and mother both had silver hair and violet eyes. Everyone knew. People are not blind. You only needed to look at Jaceryes, Luceryes, and Joffrey to see the truth. Yet, despite her obvious treason, your father turned a blind eye to her activities. 

Though, he certainly never ignored yours. 

"Did you see them tonight?" You asked. 

Rhaenyra and her sons, like so many other lords and ladies of the kingdom, were invited to celebrate you and Aegon's wedding. A week-long event of feasts and tourneys leading up to the big day, which would end with a banquet of dishes, wine and cake at the end. She'd arrived from Dragonstone with her sons and second husband, Daemon Targaryen. You recalled how happy your father seemed when she approached, smiling and kissing her cheeks. He doted on her sons, who'd grown so much since you last saw them. Your heart couldn't help breaking. He never looked at you that way. Whenever your father addressed you, it was to scold or enforce a matter on you. He'd simply said, "You look lovely, dear," when asked if he thought his daughter looked beautiful. The sting hurts no matter how many times you pretend otherwise. 

"Don't," Aegon's voice broke you from your thoughts. He took the hand playing with the lace, and said, "Don't. He's a rotting bag of flesh and bones who doesn't even know what day it is. Don't let him get in there," he prodded your temple until you laughed. "You were beautiful tonight. Everyone said so when you walked into the hall." He gave your hand a soft squeeze, "And you'll be all anyone talks about tomorrow…I think…I wouldn't know. You won't let me see your gown."

"I want it to be a surprise," you insisted. You pressed your lips to his again, "Come sleep with me."

"Oh, I'd love to," he smirked, "If only we’re both naked."

"You can be nude, if you like," you sneered back, standing from his lap, "But I'm feeling a bit of a chill. I might keep my dress on."

"You're a cruel woman, Y/N."

You returned to your bed and delighted in watching a drunk Aegon clumsily remove his clothes before you decided to help. While he made several attempts to undress you as well, you managed to navigate his lustful advances and plopped him into the bed. You’d never ever tell him that seeing him naked did bring back that familiar tingle; he’d never let it go if you did. Finally undressed, Aegon slipped underneath your covers and wrapped you in his arms. The coldness of the bed disappeared in his presence, and the emptiness of the room vanished. As the lantern slowly died out, you listened to Aegon gradually drift to sleep beside you. Tomorrow, you’d be in this bed as man and wife. Tomorrow, Aegon won’t be your silly fool of a brother, but your husband as well. One day, if the Gods are cruel, he’ll become king and you’ll become queen. 

What a mess that would be.