#Aegon II x reader

[gloomskulls]

I guess my type is emperor/king, with severe mommy issues, jealous of their sibling, killed their sibling, is a manwhore, an unhinged personality, got abruptly killed by their own men, entitled man-child, has a pet they cherish, and probably has syphilis

[adragonprinceswhore]

One Whore Is As Good As Another

Aemond x Brothel worker x (drunk) Aegon

Summary: Desperate to prove he's no mere boy, Prince Aemond leaves his taunting brother and seeks out another conquest. Momentarily, he feels back in control, until his brother reappears.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, reader is a brothel worker and has Valyrian features, targcest, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), face fuccin', P in V, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, titty slapping, humiliation, degradation, dysfunctional brothers

Word Count: 2000

A/N: I had this idea when I read the leaks for episode 3, and let's just say Aegon's awfulness worked great as inspiration. Filthy drabble ahead!

You've seen Prince Aemond's long, silver hair flash by in the corner of your eye countless times in the past weeks.

You never get the chance to observe the prince up close. He only appears fleetingly, confidently striding through the Blue Pearl towards the room where Madame Sylvie awaits him.

She seems to be his favourite; the only one allowed to touch the imposing young man. Sometimes he spends hours with her, though you are not privy to the details. All you know is that most men entering your place of employment conduct much shorter visits.

You do not envy your madame. Entertaining a Targaryen prince is no easy feat, from what you've heard.

Still, you do wonder what it would be like to catch his eye. For him to choose you, like he had chosen the madame.

Had he ever caught sight of you, like you did him? Had he ever seen the shimmer of your silver hair reflect in the corner of his eye?

Does you Valyrian heritage look as alluring as that of the statuesque prince, despite being born a bastard?

These thoughts had merely been fugitive, indulgent fantasies.

Until tonight.

Prince Aemond stands naked in the middle of the vast space in the heart of the Blue Pearl, seeing eye gazing out over the intertwined bodies moving in differing rhythms.

No one had asked for your services as of yet, and you'd therefore been tasked with refilling chalices and plates for the patrons.

The prince's gaze settles on you as you pour wine into a few cups scattered around, ensuring no one chases pleasure parched.

He walks towards you in slow, confident steps, seemingly uncaring that he is fully nude.

'Tis a brothel after all.

Placing the decanter back on the table, you curtsey as he draws near; trembling fingers fumbling with the thin material of your gown,

"Wine, your grace?"

"Do you work here?"

'Tis not the wine that caught his attention.

"Yes. How may I be of service?"

His eye scans the place, searching for a more secluded spot. He gestures towards a plush settee tucked away in a corner with a nod, prompting you to follow him there.

Walking next to the prince, you can truly admire the sharp features of his face. His hair is as fetching up close, and his skin resembles milk; so clear and smooth.

Clean.

Not fit for the filthy surroundings you'd been brought up in.

"Are you my uncle's bastard?"

His query catches you off guard,

"I-, I do not know, your grace. Mayhaps"

You could be his cousin.

Or his sister.

It matters little here; the gods had decided both of your fates when they ruled it fair he be born a prince and you a bastard to a whore in Flea Bottom.

Despite the evident uncertainty, your answer seems to please him.

Prince Aemond's hums, seeing eye narrowing and the right corner of his mouth twitching briefly, perhaps nearly breaking into a smile.

The possibility of you being his uncle's daughter excites him.

"Lay down"

You do as told, reclining on the settee. The corner the two of you occupy is fairly out of sight, yet there is no curtain hindering wandering eyes from seeing your act. It surprises you that the otherwise secretive prince would chose such an exposed place for your coupling, yet you say nothing.

The choice is his.

He inspects your form as you lie down; gaze traveling from the round softness of your breasts to the smooth skin of your inner thighs. The gown you wear leaves little hidden, and the prince's searing stare causes your heart to drum quicker in your chest.

The unpredictability of what he'll do next; of what he wants from you, causes as much unease within you as the determined look in his eye elicits.

He hums, head nodding faintly to himself, before he moves towards you, lifting one long, lean leg so he may straddle your chest.

His cock is right by your mouth, already growing larger as he gazes down at your face underneath him.

Perhaps 'tis the gaining of control that arouses the prince so; seeing you laid out for him with nothing but obedience to offer.

He feeds you his half-hard cock; not too brutish to force it all in your mouth at once. A prince still keeps his manners, you suppose.

Taking him in, you feel the skin of his member; hot and with a taste like salt. It's heavy in your mouth, and the awkward position the prince has you in does not allow you much movement.

He looks down at you; one eye stoney and unmoving, with shadows and light dancing in it. The other expressive and fierce.

Hungry.

Both his hands grab the back of the seat as he leans forward, forcing more of his cock down your throat. It prevents you from breathing, yet you do your best to appease him, sucking and swallowing him to the best of your ability.

You feel his balls slap your chin as he rocks into your mouth, pleased grunts escaping his lips.

A few more thrusts and you start to feel dizzy, not receiving enough air with the prince's manhood in your mouth and his lower belly pressed up against your nose.

You gently tap his leg and he abruptly pulls away from you, hurriedly moving off of you to stand next to the settee.

You cough as you inhale air once again, looking up at him with glassy eyes and wet lips, shining with spit.

His face is still harsh and demanding, and your gaze flickers down to his cock.

Decorated in your spit, it has grown double in size and is now red; like vexed skin after a beating.

You lay still, breathing rapidly to regain your senses. After giving you a moment to calm, Prince Aemond gestures for you to stand, and sits down on the settee.

He grabs your hips, dragging you towards his lap, and so 'tis your time to straddle him, take his cock in hand and sink down on it.

You know how to play these games. You know how to appease the men seeking your touch. Still, the moan you emit as you take in the prince is not solely performative; the stretch of his member fills you to the point of pain.

You bite your lip in a vain effort to concentrate, set on pleasing and serving your prince. Moving up and down in a slow pace, you grow wetter and more accustomed to his intrusion, and soon, your own pleasure follows.

"A-, ah, Prince Aemond", you call out, hoping the flattery will make him favour you even more. Mayhaps as much as he favours your madame.

He grunts and places his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so he may rest his face against your scarcely clad bosom. He's enjoying you; reveling in your cunt, and it feels like the highest of praise.

You continue to call his title, his name, moving faster and harsher up and down his length, until,

"Brother!"

You catch the flash of a figure stumbling towards you in the corner of your eye, certain you know who it is before looking up;

King Aegon.

His lips are curved into a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded and hair tousled,

"I knew you had it in ya!"

The king ends his exclamation with a slur, clearly far too drunk to be staggering around Flea Bottom unattended.

You'd never been eye to eye with the king before; word around the street was that he found the Blue Pearl far too dull. He requires more to quench his thirst for depravity.

And yet, seeing you ride his brother's cock seems to be to his liking,

"Come on, girl, ride the dragon!", King Aegon shouts before falling into a fit of laughter. His hand smacks your arse as if you were a mare, urging you to go faster.

You search the prince's face for approval, but he's not looking at you anymore. His dark gaze is trained on his brother; still harsh and determined. You take his silence for compliance and move faster; quick breaths of exhaustion and moans of pleasure slipping out from your still wet lips.

"Making her do all the work-",

Aegon's still laughing between the words he slurs out. Standing behind you, one of his hands move to cup your left breast, and he squeezes it roughly; too drunk to appreciate tenderness,

"-I can see why"

Prince Aemond is still silent; still staring at his amused brother.

"No, no, no, this won't do", the king mumbles as he releases the harsh grip he'd had on your breast,

"Remove your gown, bastard"

Again, you seek Prince Aemond's eye for instruction, but he does not grant it. So, you grab the hem of your thin attire and pull it off over your head, exposing yourself to the Targaryen brothers.

'Tis not like you've never been naked before; you entertain most guests nude. Still, there's something about the royals' presence, their ongoing, silent battle, that leaves you feeling more exposed than ever before.

King Aegon hums in appreciation at the sight of your bare teats, the same rough hand coming up to slap the side of one of them, chuckling as they knock together.

You pick up the pace to ride your prince again, yet the king does not leave you be. His voice is still amused, though tinted with something darker, as he commands his brother,

"I want to see you fuck her like a hound, Aemond"

The prince does not reply, and your pace does not falter. You were tasked with pleasuring the prince, and if he did not reply to his brother's orders, neither would you.

Though he is your king.

"Fuck her like a hound! Come on!"

King Aegon sounds more agitated now; impatient. He does not like that his brother does not obey him instantaneously; that he would refuse an order.

The prince is as stubborn as his elder, and in between the brothers, is you;

Caught between two dragons waging a war of wills.

"Get up", Prince Aemond grits through clenched teeth.

You comply, standing swiftly only to be turned and roughly placed back on the settee on your knees.

The prince places a hand on your lower back, pushing you to arch, and enters you in one stroke, reaching far deeper than your previous position had allowed.

He quickly sets a brutal pace; fucking your squelching cunt harsh and quick.

You desperately hold on to the back of the seat, vainly searching for some control as the prince takes his pleasure from you.

Behind you, you hear his laboured breaths and grunts, and the entertained cackle of the king,

"That's more like it!"

He walks around the settee to face you; watching your body as it sways back and forward with the prince's rough thrusts.

Leaning in closely, so closely that his wine-soaked breath is right by your cheek, King Aegon inquires, "How does royal cock feel?"

You know how to play these games.

"Heavenly, your grace"

He hums and touches a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger, "Is that what your mother thought as well?"

He does not bother with waiting for an answer from you; truly, he's not interested in knowing. Instead, he circles the settee yet again to stand next to his brother, mesmerised by the sight of his cock driving in and out of you,

"Where on her will you spill?"

Prince Aemond stays silent, pace never faltering.

“Face, teats or arse?”, his brother asks, but before his stoic sibling answers, he decides for him,

"Spill on her face. You got to appreciate those, uh, familiar features"

A few more rough strokes and the prince pulls out, grabs your waist, and turns you around so that you face them both. He pushes on your shoulder in a silent order for you to get on the floor, once again with his member in your face.

With a quick hand he strokes his slick cock, seed shooting out like arrows, landing on your cheeks, in your hair, on your lips.

He's breathing heavily, yet does not say anything, nor does he moan or grunt. He simply decorates your face in pearly luminescence, matching your silver hair and lilac eyes.

When he's done, he turns, and you see his older brother lay a comradery hand on his shoulder, commending him for "a good fuck".

As the brothers walk away together, you see the tension in Prince Aemond's shoulders ease ever so slightly.

The burdens of being a royal.

A/N: If the HotD writers want Aemond to be obsessed with his uncle, I'll comply! I like to write these little drabbles as a fun way to practice writing without much pressure, so please be kind, it's all just for fun!

[riddlesbunny]

my sister's keeper

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

pairing: Aegon & Aemond x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.8k

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

“But –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Has he told you?”

Letting out a deep sigh, “he has.”

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

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

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

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

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

He cleared his throat loudly to make his presence known.

“Aemond!”

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

“Oh please, do continue.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fear this is inappropriate,” you began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aemond pulled himself out of you and got up quickly.

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

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

Aegon frowned at his brother.

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

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

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

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

[novaursa]

The List Of My HOTD Reader Insert Works:

The list received a makeover. There is no longer a second one. All is here, in one place.

I don't give permission to others to use my original ideas for their works (that includes any form of art). I also don't give permission for my work to be copied or translated into another language and posted somewhere else. This also applies to anything regarding an AI. You have been warned.

Requests are CLOSED! Please stop sending them to me, and respect me enough to understand how I'm unable to be doing anything outside my schedule right now!

Aegon II Targaryen

Helaena Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Daeron Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Daemon Targaryen

Baela Targaryen

Otto Hightower

Gwayne Hightower

Alicent Hightower

Cregan Stark

Harwin Strong

Criston Cole

Jason Lannister

Tyland Lannister

Jason and Tyland Lannister - The Golden Court

Davos Blackwood

The List Of My ASOIAF Reader Inserts Works:

Oberyn Martell

Aerys II Targaryen

Rhaegar Targaryen

Daenerys Targaryen

Arthur Dayne

Robb Stark

Sansa Stark

Arya Stark

Jon Snow

Edmure Tully

Euron Greyjoy

Theon Greyjoy

Margaery Tyrell

Tywin Lannister

Cersei Lannister

Jaime Lannister

Tyrion Lannister

Robert Baratheon

Eddard Stark

Brandon Stark (The Wild Wolf)

Lyanna Stark

Roose Bolton

Ramsay Bolton

Jojen Reed

Petyr Baelish

Jaqen H'ghar

Sandor Clegane

Khal Drogo

Ser Bronn of the Blackwater

Beric Dondarrion

Styr the Thenn

Oswell Whent

Ser Duncan the Tall - A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

The List Of My F&B Reader Insert Works:

Aegon I Targaryen

Visenya Targaryen

Rhaenys Targaryen

Maegor I Targaryen

Torrhen Stark

Orys Baratheon

Aegon (The Uncrowned) Targaryen

Viserra Targaryen

Aegon III Targaryen

Aegon IV Targaryen

Daemon I Blackfyre

Aerion Targaryen (Brightflame)

Brynden Rivers

Original Targaryen Characters

Dune Crossover

The Truth About The Chosen Ones (my original book, a small introduction)

SW KOTOR fic: The Last Daughter Of Onderon (Book 1), Sons Of Dxun (Book 2), Legacy Of War (Book 3)

Requests are CLOSED!

About Me

[lannister-rose]

Duty Ends Where Love Starts - Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sweethearts since childhood, you and Aegon were always meant to be together, but when duty, love, and political rivalry all clash together, you both find yourselves in loveless marriages with other people. After an argument breaks out between your husband, Aemond, and his brother you seek to help mend the issue. When you find yourself in Aegon's chambers alone with only him, suppressed emotions bubble their way to the surface.

Warnings: Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, Slight Aemond x Reader (One Sided), Infidelity, Heavy emphasis on infidelity, Targcest (Uncle and Niece), Arranged marriages, Smut, P in V sex, Creampie, Mentions of pregnancy, use of Moon Tea, Minors Do Not Interact (MDNI)

Word Count: 2.9k

You were three and ten when Aegon kissed you for the first time in the library of the Red Keep while you were both supposed to be studying. It was your first kiss, and his, too; neither of you knowing what to do as your lips met each other's. It was clumsy and awkward, lasting only a few seconds, but it felt like a bliss-filled eternity before you pulled away, your cheeks burning as a deep shade of bright red covered them, you stuttering as you failed to find the right words to tell the boy who you had fallen for.

After that day you begged your mother, Rhaenyra, to speak with your Grandsire about having you wed to Aegon when you both came of age, telling her that you'd never have another take your hand in marriage. Your mother honored your request, but it was Aegon's mother, the Queen Consort Alicent Hightower, who refused to betroth her eldest to you.

When the time came, you found yourself Aemond Targaryen's wife, a marriage that would prove itself to be far from fulfilling. Aemond loved you, as he claimed, but the feelings were far from reciprocated, even as you spent more time with him over the years. He wasn't Aegon. Still, duty always called to those who held it, and you were his wife by law.

"Where is Aegon?" Your Grandsire, Viserys, questioned one night over supper, looking around the table for his son. "Do any of you know where he is?" He asked again, looking to the fellow members of your family for any insight. You had to admit, you were curious, too. It wasn't like him to miss supper, especially not when his favorite wine was being served.

"He and I had an argument," Your husband answered from beside you, the traces of a smug smirk on his face as he glanced over at you. "He had some choice words regarding my Lady Wife and I, and I made sure to put him in his place." You raised a brow at the information, unable to feign disinterest any longer. "My elder brother is likely sulking in his room right now as any child would." You watched as Alicent shot him a look, a warning to her son not to bring further drama to the already tense table.

"You two have been at each other's throats since we were children, Aemond." You stated plainly, standing up from your seat. "I do not wish to hear of your bickering with him, not at supper." You moved, heading towards the room's entrance. "I've lost my appetite, please excuse me."

You left, moving through the halls and towards Aegon's chambers. It had been your job since you were young to be your uncles' mediator, helping mend, or at least calm them both after their arguments. This one would be no different. You didn't bother knocking on the door once you were at his room, quickly dismissing the guards before stepping in.

He sat at his desk, staring down into a cup of wine with a mix of irritation and what looked to be a hint of hurt on his face as he swirled the dark liquid around in its cup. His deep purple eyes turned upwards to look at you briefly as you entered before returning down, the prince not bothering to react much to your sudden intrusion into his chambers.

"Has anyone ever taught you it's rude to barge into someone else's chambers without knocking first, Lady Velaryon?" He asked, the statement more of a playful jab than a question, even despite his slightly annoyed tone of voice.

"You and Aemond fought, and I hear it involved me, Uncle." You said, skipping straight to the point as you grabbed a spare chair from elsewhere in the room and pulled it up to the desk, sitting next to Aegon. "My husband said you had some 'choice words' regarding him and myself, may I ask what you said?"

Aegon set his cup down, finally looking at you fully. "I was drunk and said some things I should not have said; that is all that happened between him and me." He confessed, and you knew he was only speaking half of the truth, the half you already knew.

"Really? Is that all? Then why have you isolated yourself to your room then?" You pried, determined to get to the bottom of the issue. "What did you say, Aegon?"

Your uncle looked away, refusing to meet your gaze and you two fell into silence for a long moment, the prince trying to decide what he would say. "Do you ever know what our lives would be like if we had been wed to each other? If all the pleading we had done hadn't fallen on the deaf ears of our mothers?" He turned his head back up, looking at you with eyes swirling deep with conflicted emotion.

"Of course I do, Aegon." You answered simply, taking a deep breath. "But fate had other plans for us all, and we must adapt to it. Duty is scarcely something we desire." You felt your heart ache at your admission, the cruel reality of your situation sinking in once more after you'd spent years trying to bury how it made you feel.

"What do you desire?" He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently before he continued. "Are you happy with Aemond? Do you want to be with him? Has your heart begun to yearn for my brother after all these years with him?" Aegon awaited your answer, every second of your silence felt like a lifetime.

"It does not matter what I desire," You finally spoke, removing your hand from his. "I must fulfill my duty as—"

"Fuck duty." He interrupted, tone laced with bitterness. "I asked what you wanted, not what you must." He grabbed his wine, taking a long drink of it before speaking again. "I told Aemond that he didn't deserve you. That's why we argued, sweetling." The last word, filled with hate as it left his lips, felt like a sharp dagger to the chest. "My brother doesn't love you as I do, doesn't understand how much it infuriates me to hear the talk of him neglecting you while claiming to cherish you, his darling wife." Aegon's grip on his cup tightened, fingers digging into the metal.

You stood from your seat, making your way towards the door. "I think you're drunk again, Aegon. I'll see you once you've sobered up and stopped talking nonsense." Before you could leave he stood up quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you back, flipping you around to face him. Your eyes widened as you stared back at him, and your mouth opened to scold him for what he just did.

Before you could take the chance to speak, he kissed you, lips moving with fervor against yours as he poured every emotion he ever felt for you into it. You hesitated before kissing back, melting into his touch as you relaxed, your hands resting on his shoulders as he pulled you closer, arms wrapping around your waist. It was wrong, you knew it, but emotion overpowered logic as you gave into him, tasting the fruity, almost sweet taste of wine on his lips as he kissed you.

"Aegon," You breathed out once you separated, your heart racing in your chest as you stared into his Indigo eyes filled with love and affection only he had ever shown you. You hadn't kissed him since before his wedding to Helaena so many years ago, and doing it once more after so long brought every feeling you had suppressed for him back to the surface.

"I need you to know that I'm not drunk when I say this." He paused, tenderly cupping your face in his hands. "I love you. With every part of my being. I swear it by the Gods." He leaned in further, your lips nearly touching again. "You may be Aemond's by law, but you are mine. We both know it, and we've gone too long denying it. What's stopping us from loving one another behind closed doors? What the rest of our family doesn't know will bring no harm."

You took a shaky breath at the proposition. It was a risky one should you follow through with it, but the risk made it all the more exciting to think about. Being able to be with the one you loved after so long would be worth the sneaking around, the guilt, and the shame.

"I'd kill for you, man or woman. I'd burn our house to the ground, burn the Seven Kingdoms to ash if it meant I'd be with you at the end of it all." His lips pressed against yours once more in another passion-filled kiss. You wanted him, needed him. No man had touched you in so long, not your husband, and not Aegon; you craved more of it, hungered for it like a starved animal staring at its first meal in ages.

You kissed him back with equal desire, moaning against his lips as you led him towards his bed, carefully pushing him down onto the mattress below. You straddled him, pressing up against the growing budget in his breeches as he held your hips, looking up at you with uncertainty, a rare state to see the prince in when with women.

"What's wrong, Aegon? You've bedded many women before. Don't tell me you've grown scared of them now." You teased, hands running over the expensive fabric of his dark forest green tunic.

"I've bedded whores, not the noble lady who I've loved since childhood." He corrected, letting you slip off his shirt and throw it to the stone ground below, leaving his chest bare and free for you to see and drink in the sight of. "Is it so wrong of me to wish to please you properly?"

You chuckled lightly at his words. "You're already doing better than Aemond by spending this time with me. My husband rarely has me in such a position." It was Aegon's turn to chuckle, slipping your gown off your shoulders as he did so. He watched your breasts spill out of your dress, cock hardening even further at the beautiful sight

"Gods, your beauty is unmatched." His hand found your soft breast, kneading it as you moaned lewdly, the sound like music to his ears. "Do you know how long I've yearned to hear those sounds come from you? How many nights I had spent wishing you were the one with me instead of some whore?" He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your chest, savoring each and every noise that escaped you.

You helped him remove your gown fully, leaving your fully nude figure on full display to your lover. He drank in the sight, the look of you being more fulfilling and delicious than any other person or thing he had ever experienced. You weren't from a brothel, nor were you Helaena or any other woman who had ever been with. You were his first and only love, and here you were in front of him, letting him do to you what he had always desired.

"You're staring, Aegon." You observed, your voice low and sultry, utterly intoxicating.

"What man wouldn't when faced with such a pretty thing?" His hands roamed your body as he smirked.

You pulled off his breeches, letting his cock spring out, the tip already leaking small translucent pearls of precum from the excitement of it all. You bit your lip as you realized how big he was. You'd struggle to take him. You stroked him slowly, bringing your hand up and down his thick length. Aegon watched through half-lidded violet eyes as you touched him, a groan of your name leaving his lips. Then you placed his cock, hard and ready, at your entrance, sinking down onto it, struggling to hold back a loud moan as you did so.

"I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you." Aegon's hands grabbed at your hips as you began to bring yourself up and down, riding his cock. You felt like no other woman he had ever been with; to him, you were perfection. For the first time in his life he was overwhelmed by sex, the emotions he held for you combined with the feeling of the velvety walls of your cunt wrapped around him combined in a way that had his head blissfully empty except for the thought of you.

"Kiss me." The words sounded more desperate than he intended, but that's what he was: desperate. The prince had never been one to kiss when he did these things, but he had gone years without you, and he'd be damned if he didn't take all you had to offer, savoring it as he did.

You listened to him, leaning down, your body pressing up against his as your lips moved together sloppily. Aegon gripped your hips tighter, beginning to thrust his own upwards, driving his cock deep into you. You whimpered against his lips, trying to meet his movements with yours to get more of him.

"You're going to make me cum." Aegon announced through his groans, unable to last long with how well you were taking him. "I'm going to fill you up, little dove. You want that, don't you? I'll make you mine." You let out a mix between a moan and a whine as his thrusts up into you grew rougher, the sounds of your shared pleasure filling the otherwise quiet room. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, mouth wide open as you failed to do much else other than let him fuck you.

"Fuck! Aegon!" You managed to get out as the tip of his cock grazed your sweet spot, pushing you closer to your impending climax. All it took was one more touch of that same spot, more head-on this time, for you to cum around him, your cunt fluttering with the force of your orgasm. He followed soon after, losing his rhythm before his hips stilled, warm cum coating your insides and spilling out down your thighs.

You slumped over, breathing heavily as you lay next to him, placing your head on his chest as your post-orgasmic haze set it. His fingers combed through your hair, deep violet eyes closing as his lips curled up into a satisfied smile; the silver-haired man being pleasantly exhausted.

"I love you." You spoke softly, breaking the silence. "They say love is where duty ends, Aegon." The prince tucked a stray lock of your hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek.

"That's because love feels a lot better, sweetling. We all indulge despite what's expected of us. Tonight we chose to indulge in each other," he leaned in, a sweet kiss soon finding its way to you. "It's wrong, isn't it? What we've done here. I don't care how wrong things may be, not when you're next to me, warming my bed." He moved on top of you, being to press chaste, loving kisses to your neck. You smiled tiredly, wrapping your arms around him, enjoying the warmth he radiated.

No one would keep you from him, not after tonight. You'd both have to return to your spouses eventually when duty overpowered love, but for now, you were each other's.

When what was expected of you did make its call you separated from Aegon, bathing away the remnants of your night together before leaving his chambers, thankful that the servants who fetched the water didn't pry further. Later on, you found yourself in the library, pretending to read a book while you reminisced about that first kiss with Aegon that started it all between you and him. The sound of shoes stepping against the hard floor drew you out of your thoughts, and you looked up toward the source, finding it to be your mother.

"We need to talk," Rhaenyra said with concern in her voice, making her way to you quickly, a small cup held carefully in her hands. She sat beside you, handing you the cup. You took it, a confused look on your face.

"What's this?" You asked, looking down at the currently unidentified liquid that smelled of tansy and sweet honey.

"I don't know what you've done, what risks you've already taken, but rumors have spread of your infidelity." Your mother explained. "I do not wish to interrogate you, but I have a feeling I already know who it is whom you've spent your time with, and knowing who he is, I know these words are likely more than just gossip spread by those wishing to sully your name."

Your heart sunk at her words, and it was then that you knew what she had handed you. It was moon tea, that's why it smelled of tansy. "Mother, I'm—" She stopped you, placing her hands onto yours, comforting you.

"I know what it's like to choose love over all else, and the dangers which come. You mentioned in passing a few days ago how Aemond hadn't touched you in a long while. He's no fool. He'll know if you fall pregnant that the child isn't his, and I fear what he may do once that realization comes.

You took a deep breath, bringing the cup up to your lips and taking a sip, the taste both bitter and sweet as it reached your tongue. Your mother understood like no other could.

"It is just a precaution, sweet girl. I trust you to be cautious from now on. Duty ends where love starts." She stood up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You needed your mother in this moment, and here she was. She was right. Duty ends where love starts. That phrase would become your mantra.

[shrimpybbq]

a contended husband is no menace to the kingdom

Aegon being forced to marry his niece instead of Helaena, much to his chagrin. At least Helaena wasn’t a bastard, but now his father wishes to embarrass him more by wedding him to a brown-haired princess and keep him aside. Aegon is so grumpy until he meets the newly-grown Velaryon Princess once more. He underestimated how much of her beauty she got from her mother, and truthfully, she was more comely than he’d expected.

At least he should have something pretty to look at, he thinks.

However, he’s soon shocked by just how much he seems to like the Princess. She’s sweet and kind to him, despite her timid nature. She tries to stay close to him and speak and learn of his interests - only his less than savoury responses seem to leave her crestfallen; something Aegon has found he doesn’t like. He doesn’t like to see the way her smile falls when he is rude to her, or when his mother spares the girl another insult. It’s incredibly unlike Aegon when he first stands up for his betrothed against his mother. He didn’t even stand up for himself and yet he couldn’t take watching the sweet princess curl in on herself anymore.

Aegon and the Princess marry in the great sept, both bride and groom feeling surprisingly pleased with their fate. Aegon has warmed to the girl and begun to feel the impacts of being loved and cared for for once in his life. The Princess has realised that behind the cold and crass exterior of the Prince, he is but a boy wishing to be loved and held.

Rhaenyra comes back for Luke’s petition years later to see her daughter again in person, giggling away with her husband in the throne room. The husband and wife are clinging to each other, the princess dressed in a resplendent gold gown, as they whisper conspiratorially whilst looking around the room. Rhaenyra feels her chest tighten at the small bump protruding from her daughter’s skirt - she had yet to receive a letter announcing this most recent pregnancy. Rhaenyra had wanted to keep her daughter away from the greens at all costs but now looking at her daughter so happy and content, she wonders if maybe her perceptions of Aegon had been incorrect.

(please why couldn’t this man just be happy!)

[controld3vil]

i'll hex you, i'll possess you

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader, aemond "one eye" targaryen x reader (unrequited/one sided)

synopsis: Your husband is gone. He perished in whatever was left of the battle, seared flesh, and dragon’s tar. As unbearable as it was, you fight for his throne against his brother. Believing it is for his for the taking.

notes: mentions of s02ep05, i fr feel so bad for aegon :( also cw: hints of obsessed!aemond (bc he's insane :D)

In quite a haste, you sped past all the onlookers like flies. They were nonexistent in your peripherals, your attention was entirely up ahead to the King’s chambers, the Kingsguards who stood by. Your Grace, they would say before allowing you passage past their protection. You took a glimpse, here in the dressing room for the King. Your King.

“Your Grace!” The seamstress chirped, turning to greet your lovely smile. And your righteous presence everywhere you went. It affected all now that you were the face of King’s Landing. It’s a hefty duty, yes, however, it seemed many subjects were willing, if not encouraged, of your subsequent role as the consoling figure for the realm to look to.

In front of a tall mirror was Aegon, in full Valyrian armor. You’d guessed the armor was passed down through his ancestral line, ancient, and beautiful it was kept. All the plates fit him perfectly with little alterations to adjust. Yet absent of the signature helmet paired with it, his blonde hair lay just above his shoulders, gently. 

Ever so kind were your visage toward the King. You could feel the corners of your lips curve warmly at the sight of him. He was handsome and eager to appease the people of his kingdom. Though he may not be the first choice for Throne, you knew he was trying his best to uphold the responsibilities and burden those must bear. You would have to bear it as well if you were Queen. 

“Good morrow,” You breathed, flattening the wrinkles of your dress as an excuse to eye at Aegon, openly. There was nothing to hide, simply it was different from his normal attire. In armor, in all of your lifetime, you never had to experience warfare, for better or worse. 

“Ah, my lovely wife!” In exclamation, your husband turns to compliment your captivating smile as he gleams contentedly. He takes a few steps down from the small stairway from the miniature podium, while some of his personal Kingsguard can be heard snickering. Which you wholeheartedly ignored as your attention laid straight to your King’s beaming face. “Just who I wanted to see!”

“I must speak with you,” Through your expressed delightfulness, the tone of your voice is quickly replaced with a sour one. And it seemed to have caught the attention of the seamstress and others in the room as they all paused at your subtle notion of privacy. “Alone.” Only when you mention it, it’s as though they were a flock of birds, all fleeing from the chambers at once. A few clatters and suddenly the doors were quietly slammed shut with a whisper of a demand. 

However, your husband did not seem fazed at all. He merely shrugged, casually walking to fill a cup or two with wine. Yet a visible glower can be caught right after he steps off the podium and to the table of beverages. Sometimes his reaction to your urgency was comedic. The King was never one to take duties earnestly. It’s one of his eminent flaws that all of the townsfolk and servants knew of. His days by the Silk Roads were but a regular story. But now, he is a changed man, Aegon thinks. They’ve witnessed all of his mistakes and tourneys. He’s young and has never been as interested in duty as his siblings. And now suddenly, he was pulled onto the seat as King. And you would have to sit beside him and watch. As a graceful symbol yet mute on what to say on any matter. 

How horrendous was that? 

“What troubles you, my sweet?” The sound of liquid plops as all of the noise from the outside world becomes muffled. For the past few days, it has been the most chaotic and tragic period of your life. Not just for you and Aegon, but everyone in King’s Landing. Your son, Jaehaerys, was left for dead at the hands of a murderer and false ruler. Panic was running through the streets of Flea Bottom. People questioned the King’s cruel punishment of the rat catchers though Aegon did not care for their grief. 

To you, it was more than sadness. But anger and confusion, all of your pent-up emotions ever since living in King’s Landing have made you become this way. The Capital has changed you. To who you were as a person and figure of nobility. Now you were suddenly the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, yet only moments ago, you were the princess of the firstborn son of the King. You should have expected war to come between siblings over the throne, yet your father persisted that the marriage would’ve led to success. Having lost your child, your son, made the promise to communicate more to Aegon. To somehow seek solace in the empty void of your heart in whatever left the world had. 

“You named Ser Criston Cole your Hand…” You mumbled slowly, the last words faded out into thin air. Was he wrong to do so? You did not want to say. For the little you knew about the battle being played at hand, you knew Aegon’s impulsiveness would come to the cost of many. Especially of the Council when they have refused relentlessly his thoughts and suggestions. So perhaps this decision would cause more upbringing for the noblemen to bleat about. “Why?”

A muffled sound and then a snort comes out of his mouth as Aegon proceeds to sip his wine. As if not a care of the world or your concern over the matter. “And why does this concern you?” 

He does the courtesy to hand you your cup, as you clasped it eagerly to swallow whatever worry your heart must feel. The Queen Regent, Aegon’s brother, Aemond, and even Criston Cole, all look for you in the guidance you have over their King. You’ve yet to make it clear that you don’t control him like many others would consider to do. You’d think it's heartless to manipulate a man of his feelings, especially your husband. 

Eventually, you lay the cup down, trailing your finger around the outer details of the golden goblet. It’s glimmering through the sun, carefully designed with outlines of a dragon and flames that surround the jugular of the base of the cup. It curves and twists under your palm as you proceed to swirl the liquid inside and watch as a mini typhoon is formed. 

“Do you believe your decision on making him Hand was just?” You lift your gaze to be met with his bright purple eyes. It always seemed intense and vivid in color whenever his attention was on you. As if you were the only person that mattered in the room. And if not at this moment.

You looked ravishing, decorated in his house colors with pops of gold from the jewelry and headwear. You had no shame in exemplifying wealth because he would give you everything willingly. No matter the cost or debt, every piece of gold, and diamond was meant to be yours. He watches as your golden droplet earrings jingle when you shake your head, contemplating your next words. “Because I do not think that was the wisest decision to be made, husband.”

“And, care to explain why?” Like every little piece of his childhood, Aegon looks at every objective like a game. Though he looked like he was trying to resist your hesitancy for his new Hand, he was staring into space at the glorious jewels that make your figure and face pop out more. 

You urged, before meeting the King by the tableside where the pitcher lay. “He is a warrior, not a politician,” You set your goblet aside, to look your husband in the eye more closely. “He does not know the ways of the people, especially those who he surrounds himself with. He was born lowborn, making him more naive than aware of tellings.” 

Yes, you make great points, he would say if you did not have that adorable scowl on your face. Aegon would admit, he was getting drunk by the minute. And your presence did not help in his regard to be sober. Regardless, he does take account of your calls, more than most that surround himself with. Everyone at the Council is eager to spout their plans and news, it makes him deaf to the ear when they have nothing to contribute when he suggests something. Nevertheless, you at least are supportive of his thoughts. Despite your constructive nature, he appreciates and craves your attention. 

Your King hums, drowsily and that was when you knew his mind was somewhere else. You would admit, you too were becoming tipsy with alcohol. After the morning Council meeting, you rather have your head hung outside with ratcatchers at the mess of the Council. You glance at his attire once more and this time, he catches you. He sees you, the way your doe eyes wander up and down his figure. He rarely has a chance to wear dragon armor like this. 

“Distracted, are we?” His breath immediately inches away from yours. And the scent of strong alcohol stings. You’re so accustomed to it, that you’re surprised you would still rebuke the scent of it. Apart from that, the look Aegon gives you makes your heart weak. His smile is sluggish but pulls you in like a serpent in water. It’s alluring and hypnotizing, the way his focus wanders in all of you, and the same for him. You can’t help but wonder if the work of the armor was tricked. And you let your desires plunder when you trace his breastplate armor. Of the harsh outlines it’s supposed to represent dragon scales. It’s majestic and divine, fit for a king. 

Almost timidly, your husband giggles at your touch. He separates a stray hair from your cheek, allowing leeway more into your personal space. You can’t feel automatically embarrassed if someone were to barge in. Because anyone could, the seamstress, Kingsguard, or worse, his mother. 

“Wear that armor more often and perhaps you’ll receive more than indecent staring,” A mischievous grin forms as again another jingle of your golden jewelry. Gods, you’re enticing and coy. Had he mentioned that? More than once. 

The first time you were at Court, it was a spur of surprise. Not only had you arrived with Prince Aemond unannounced, but Aegon encouraged it. You would suspect the disapproving faces of the men, especially coming from the King’s Hand and grandsire. How he ploys and plots with every citizen of King’s Landing to do his bidding. To save the Realm, of course, more to have the most influence in the city. You were aware of what he thinks of you. An obedient and dainty princess. The Queen and wife to the King should have no right to speak of politics. 

And yet here you were. 

“You do not have a seat in this Council,” Queen Regent, Alicent urges, gazing at her second son with slight apprehension. In doubt, she feels a quick quiver of fear the moment Aemond strides past the Council table. When it came to you, Alicent could only muster a poor glance. The one-eyed prince proceeds towards the map of Westeros that stands beside the King. He strides in confidence, abruptly ignoring every piercing stare bestowed on him. Other than him, you reached towards the seat at the opposing side of your King, hand delicately trailing down the handles of the chair.

“Aemond is my closest blood and our strongest sword. I welcome him,” Aegon lay unfazed at the subtle shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. “As for my wife, I think it should be customary for her to be by my side even in Council. As my father has allowed you to do for him, remember mother?” A playful grin, all-knowing of his lightheartedness, and carelessness of what others thought of his decisions. Surely his mother would be the most understanding, bestowing the same position many years ago when King Viserys was dealt ill and immobile. Shouldn’t the Queen beside her King as should they in every instance? 

Alicent is silent in her displeasure. There was no reason to refute the King’s wishes and sometimes made you appreciative of Aegon’s power and status. Being King was a risky position however it offered you more freedom and the ability to speak your mind more often than not. Your husband was the cause of this leverage for the most part. You expected the Queen Dowager to give you any kind of sign of comfort except there was none. Only but a forgotten thought and you were dismissed. 

It fills you with dismay, a small black hole for where her approval was meant to be. For the last few days, you’d only wished for Alicent’s consoling eyes.

“We should send troops marching to Harrehal, the Riverlands have the largest force.” Aemond waves his hand over where the location of Riverrun is plastered on the wall. It’s curved in cursive lettering, surrounding soft green fields, most notably of their Southern lands, which was an inhabited place of divided houses and discourse. The largest force, it had many issues of compromises and its lordship. “With them, Rhaenyra’s forces would be left vulnerable on land.”

The accordance of hums coaxed the second son with assurance. A sense of pride if you will, knowing how much more skilled and knowable he was than his brother. But the Hand was quick to question his methods. 

“And what of the small Houses of Riverrun? The Brackens and Blackwoods have been fighting each other for centuries. They would never work together as one,” Otto points out and it brings more skepticism and worry to the other Councilmen. Alliances with the Southerners were awkward. They do not know when or where to stop the fight. And it has become extremely bothersome at the time of war. The Bracken and Blackwoods were examples of that. They proceeded with the war more for themselves and would kill hundreds of their men if it meant to end their rivalry before the war even began. 

“We should negotiate with smaller Houses beyond the River lands then,” Your lips shudder slightly when the immediate eyes turn to you. Even your husband stares at you in astonishment and curiosity the same. Alicent looks at you warily. And Aemond, all too mysterious, holds a neutral look. “Would it not help Ser Criston Cole secure more of the surrounding Houses towards their larger forces? Gaining allies along the way to Riverrun would only add more to our numbers,”

“And in truth, give us a better advantage to overruling Riverrun altogether?” A devilish grin was on Aegon’s face at your suggestion. Your advice seemed promising and seemed risky but it was the most practical. King’s Landing had more advantage on land than the sea or sky, therefore it was evident in their leverage over the smaller Houses close to Riverrun. 

You tilt your head in amusement, all while lowering yourself to sit down. Yes, even though you had no experience in politics or war, you listened. You had ears whenever you managed to walk past one of their meetings. It should be frowned upon but you did not care. You wanted to have more say in protecting your family and House. Most things had been provided for you at an early age. You were a princess with a wealthy father, negotiations were your family’s specialty. You learned early on how to enunciate and please people with the way of your words. And here, you simply voiced what you believed was the safest way to Riverrun. Despite all the demeanors, none of the other Councilmen had anything else to say or disprove of your plans. 

“Good! Then it’s settled then,” The king rises, as well as everyone else who feels startled at his shifted demeanor. “Then Ser Criston Cole should prepare some men for the long journey ahead of us by dawn!” It was then you felt some sort of pride that would solidify your position at the Council. As long as you hold a strong mind, should your advice become helpful towards the men, you’d hoped they would see your presence as a blessing. 

In some midst of it all or perhaps the end, Aemond is quiet. He’s curious and admires you for everything you strive for. Many people would assume he despises you for taking the initiative to aid his king. But he does not believe in that no, you’re a delicate thing and would never be selfish on greed. Merely he can appreciate your ambitious strides from afar. The way you act around the people, the Council, and his mother makes him believe you were born into the role of Queen. You care for your subjects and think of what’s best for them. You do your best to stay by your king’s side even though he lacks the mind for it. 

Perhaps maybe, in some cases, he should’ve had you. 

The words struck right out of his head just when everyone was dismissed. While the nobleman rushes out of the council room, he delays his leave momentarily to catch a glimpse of you. You define the example of his House’s wealth, always proud to dress in colors of black and crimson red as if it was your second skin. However you do not forget about your own House colors, you embrace it all together with his own and it makes him wonder what kind of beauty like yourself can be persuaded by the likes of his brother. You were quick-witted, amusing, and altogether undeserving of Aegon’s love. 

You do not immediately flee the room as his mother or Ser Criston Cole had done. Instead, you slowly rise from your seat and make your way to your husband, eagerly. Aegon sits comfortably in his golden chair, smug with loving eyes at your figure. He could not help but eye at you openly even with his Kingsguard standing beside him. 

“Aemond, may we have the room?” He hears his older brother say. It does not take a blind man to know the following events as the one-eyed prince simply tilts his head in your direction. Before storming out of the room and the slam of the doors. His footsteps clank against the cold cobblestone pavement as he makes his way to his room. But all he could think about was your lively laughter as he disappeared from the scene. 

The day after Cole’s troops arrived back at King’s Landing, you felt a string of worry crawling down your spine. As you pace across your bedroom, you fiddle with the ends of your loose hair to solace the anxiety you feel in your stomach. The pit was too unbearable as more men would be escorted out towards Rook’s Rest. After Aegon removed Otto Hightower as Hand, Criston Cole became the primary candidate for the position. You voiced your concerns before but Aegon had yet to change his decisions on your advice.

Now rumors have spread that by the time Cole invades Rook’s Rest, Aemond would be by his side to counter whatever attack Rhaenyra plans to defend her councilman. It would risk losing one dragon, the biggest and largest female beast you’d seen. Doubt fills your mind when you try to shake your worries away. You shook your hands feverishly and swatted away the sweat building up against your palms. You must speak to Aemond. You should warn him of the consequences of this act. 

You found the prince outside of the castle. Vhagar resides in a shallow space close to the gateways to the city and is attentively monitored for her whereabouts. Very few dragon keepers watch over the powerful beast for her dangerous nature and size. As a cart, full of sheep was being carried by horses, you looked in awe at the amount of necessity the castle must provide for their dragons now. Surely it would impact the people’s living and cost. It worries you how chaotic and unlawful the palace seemed to behave in times of war. Even though you find yourself wanting to question Aemond’s intentions of helping Cole this way. 

Your words settle like a soothing wave in his ears. “Prince Aemond,” And when the one-eyed prince spots you, holding the reins of your horse with a steady hand, he’s not afraid to show his approval of your presence. The colors you wear today are regarded as wealth and beauty. The golden linen stretches along the cloth of obsidian, representative of his House, your House. The gown expands upon your collarbone, allowing the silver necklace you have on to become the ire of his attention. It entices him, brings him into your line of view. Clear cut diamonds you had on your earlobes, they jingle at the slightest movement you make, as you make your way towards him with ease. 

“Your Grace,” He prompts, politely. He is a plain canvas for you to paint over, to inspect over. You should not be afraid of his presence because he behaves well under yours. The prince regent eyes you down carefully and you’re vaguely reminded of the day before, the two of you entered the Council room.

“How was your ride with Vhagar?” You tenderly incite, head tilting towards his beast. Vhagar sits lazily with her entire body blended into the environment. Her muddy green scales combine with the grassy interior. The dragon pits were deemed too small for her size. And more so claustrophobic for a creature of her caliber, as a champion of many wars and destruction, Vhagar is rather docile for being the largest dragon. 

He hums before easily answering. “The morrow dew is not something to be missed during this time. Vhagar could sense it, and the warm breeze is sure to come sooner for summer,” He crossed his arms behind his back as if analyzing your every breath as you walked in irregular patterns, trailing along where his dragon resides. Your attention was not fully on him. No, not that he wouldn’t mind. But it was ignorant on your part to ignore him so easily. “Now save the rest of this nonsense for supper or shall I ask what were your real intentions for coming here? Though I welcome it,” 

You catch onto his coarse tone. Aemond dislikes those who do not take him seriously, like his brother. And you are aware of his estranged heart. You give him a look of consideration. It was the look of someone who had the upper hand. You knew he was becoming impatient with your meddling. 

“What are your plans with Criston Cole going to Rook’s Rest?” Your figure fully faces him now as you cup your hands together modestly. Surely the prince of the realm should respect the Queen’s uncertainties when he meets with the King’s Hand behind his back. A sliver of dread falls on the blonde prince as you take a step closer. “Consoling with the Hand without the King’s presence is extremely demeaning, my prince. Surely you have a right reason to go behind his back,” 

He takes a step forward, as Aemond’s eye moves back and forth from you. “We have a plan,” He is recursive in his thoughts and manners. Yet under your eyes, he feels utterly weak and broken, as if you have put a spell on him. “It is best if the King does not intervene.”

 Shaking your head disapprovingly, you fake disappointment. “Then what do you plan to do?” The longer it went on, the more you could feel his blood rising at the way you glanced and teased at his exploits. “As I, the Queen should know.”

“You need not,” The second son grunts, moving away to leave whatever conversation you were trying to muster with him. You intended to snuff out his plans with Criston Cole and expose them to your King's husband. Your King husband. What would he know of battles and formation? He knew better strategy than him yet you still side with Aegon with his pathetic whims on the townsfolk. 

Unsatisfied, you shot a disapproving grin. “I know you intend on attacking Rook’s Rest as a surprise, why else would you go with Cole?” You heard his mudded footsteps stop momentarily as you continued. “My question to it is, what are you trying to prove out of this act of disloyalty?” It flicks a trigger in him. A quick flash of anger, jealousy, and disgust, all coiled into one hole that explodes. 

“I intend to prove I am the better fit as heir,” His tone is sharp and alert as he stomps back to you with a violent gaze. His one good remaining eye, unharmed and uncut, shoots daggers at your stern face. A small part of you thinks he is handsome. The way you can rile him within seconds gives you a sense of joy and satisfaction that quenches whatever annoyance you had of him before.

“There is no denying that,” Your lips agape still at how much you were able to pry out of Aemond. However, there was one detail you needed to remind him of. “But you fail to recognize that Aegon still has an heir, Maegor.” With that, you close your mouth to form a thin line as you stand more confidently against the prince’s deadly stare. “And as Queen, I hope you do not try to cross your King’s benevolent trust with your anger.” 

It was his turn to remain there motionless. The one-eyed prince repeats your words over and over again. He contemplates them long and hard, glaring at the ground, at where you stood, close to his breath and space. But all of his emotional desires could be examples of an ill temper. You twist and turn his head like a puppeteer to a helpless marionette. And his strings had long sprung and trapped him in an immobile place.

He leaves without a word.

The battle was over. But the war continued. You became increasingly paranoid as no word from Cole’s army of Aegon’s wellbeing. You heard unreliable news. This and that but you wanted the real thing. The truth from a real member who had witnessed the battle at Rook’s Rest. As you twist the ring on your finger, you glance towards the rising crowd in the city. There were so many citizens.  They succeeded and followed like colonies of ants. 

Your anguish was reassured when the sight of the King’s army appeared. Shouts and screams returned you from your thoughts as hundreds of men walked and rode on horseback. Your lively expression did not last long, only to falter when meant with their solemn faces. What a grim battle it must’ve been.

“All hail King Aegon! Who went against and slain the traitor, Rhaenys, and her dragon, Meleys!” Cole exclaims in a harsh and undeserving undertone. From where you stood, on the high mounts of the castle, you saw the horrors of what they’ve done to the traitors. A severed head of the Red Queen, without her rider. Her flesh was torn and burnt. Charred from the attacks of another dragon, you did not believe Aegon had done so. You had doubts and Criston’s indifferent frown proved your intuition. 

Alicent was by the patio where you spied on the citizens of King’s Landing. She observes and feels a familiar dread from the aftermath she has yet to witness for herself. You have taken the position of Queen and in turn, must understand the order of things. Simply because she had a feeling that things did not seem as they were predicted by the townsfolk. 

When the wooden carriage of your husband is delivered to your bed chambers, everyone storms aside for the guards to set it on the floor. You arrived shortly after, nails and teeth clenched in fear as your mother-in-law appeared beside you with the same fixation. And somewhere else, your brother-in-law, Aemond carefully watches your scared position. The lid lifts and the soldiers hold onto the emergency bed that protects their King. In a swift motion, they lift and allow the body to hover over your shared bed.

In patience and precision, Maester Orywle walks into the chambers with several other maesters under his wing to begin a procedure and analysis of his injured body. The room is quickly transformed into a medical room, with various tools and gadgets displayed for the maesters disposal. You had little clue what they were doing, worried about your husband’s awakened state. 

“How is he?” You stumbled by the foot of the bed, where the other maesters scurry to give off Maester Orwyle a scalpel. Gods, the wounds he had mustered. You felt terrified and rightfully so. This could be the last time you see your husband, alive and breathing. “Is he awake?”

“I’m not sure, Your Grace,” Maester Orwlye replies with adequate patience. Knowing the panic and hysteria you must feel for your king, your husband, he pities in your state. You should not deserve such sorrow. “But I must be given time to work on his fatal wounds. Whether he lives or not will be confirmed afterward.” His unflinching face softens when glances at one of Aegon’s personal Kingsguard to escort you outside. The knight nods and walks forward to excuse himself before coming forward.

“My apologies, Your Grace,”

Yet you did not want to leave. Your palms felt hot and guilt-ridden with the idea of leaving Aegon alone to suffer. You urge, taking a step forward for only Maester Orwyle to hear. “How long can you be sure he will survive?” It’s so hushed with desperation in your voice. But the maester could only respond with a sorrowful shake. It breaks your heart wholly, to know not even the best medical professionals had a clear understanding or answer to their King’s expectancy. 

As you feel pathetic tears, ready to fall, the Queen Regent rushes to take hold of your forearm. She drags your pitiful self out of the chambers. The bodies that remained stepped aside for you and Alicent to leave swiftly. A quick flash of silver and black vanishes from your peripherals, but you cannot process anything that is happening anymore. 

The syllables of your name ring against your ears as the Queen Regent tries to bring you back to her. “My dear, please focus on me.” Delicate fingers drape a hold of your jaw, firmly. They smooth over the apples of your cheeks, smoothly and soothingly like a gesture a mother would do for their children. “You need to stand strong for Aegon and yourself. Your children, think of Jaehaera and Meagor! Pray to the gods for his health.” 

With that, you took a deep breath. 

Aemond was avoidant to the whole ordeal. No one besides Criston Cole was there when he found his brother’s scorched body. Alongside his dragon, Sunfrye, it looked as though he was fighting for his last breath. Aemond would’ve taken that chance to send him to eternal sleep if not for Cole’s arrival. A pity for him.

As he watches the scene before him, your grief-stricken features are what caused the most pain. You resembled a tragic painting, so angelic it’s saddening to see you this way. Aemond could’ve done it. He could have killed his brother and taken the glory of killing Meleys. Despite that, he did not and stormed from the scene. Now left in the shadows of what’s to come, he numbly waits for the maester’s work to be done with. The Council meeting will begin shortly. After Aegon’s procedure and Maester Orywle, official confirmation of whether he would live or not would determine whether he would become the true heir or not. 

This was what he wanted, yes? 

Except, everything was bleak now. All the colors he witnessed were suddenly wiped; now all he saw was black and white. Your tragic face comes into mind, along with your fragile sniffles and tears. Gods, he wanted to comfort your sweet little heart. Yet knowing he was the cause of it, made Aemond strangely more devoted to you. If Aegon does not survive, you are bound to be a widow. Your youngest child, Meagor was still but a babe, unfit and too young to understand what an heir was. Therefore he would be the rightful option if all else failed. He would rule in the King’s stead. 

That was what the one-eyed prince considered when he stepped through the doors to begin the Council. The King’s chair was empty as expected, looking lonely and authoritative without its ruler. In the same sense, on the opposite side, you sat soberly with nothing but a blank look. You wore cool-toned colors this morning. It reflected much of what you must be feeling. 

Grief, misery, and blame.  Even in this poor state, he still considers you attractive and alluring. It’s a shame you looked dejected and lifeless despite all your energy and might to stay awake. Your hair was even braided in a simpler style. Knowing you always had a knack for extraverted taste, Aemond takes in your appearance profoundly. Because perhaps, everyone in the Council can understand the emphasis on the wife of the King. As they eagerly await Maester Orwyle’s results, they all gaze at your seat for any kind of solace. 

He takes the chair to your left and sits. While the Grand Maester begins to explain Aegon’s conditions. The longer he spewed, the more you felt your heavy heart fall deeper into your chest. How would the realm react now? Their king suddenly struck and immobile to be by their side. He had defeated Rhaenys in battle however now suffered in a long-inducing coma just as his father did. Who would rule in his absence? It only made sense in your mind but you did not make it become a reality. 

“But he is very much alive, Your Grace,” Maester Orywle gives an earnest smile to the Queen Mother as she exhales with the utmost relief. “Though he will need time to recover, I do not think he will ever be the same.” 

An unfavorable grunt from Aemond brings attention from you and Cole. “So he is unable to leave his chambers.”

“I’m afraid not,” 

“Then we must choose who is to rule in his stead,” Lord Wylde speaks of the obvious, sparing everyone a momentary glance. He clears his throat and rubs his beard, nervously.

“If anyone should come in Aegon’s stead, it is his wife,” Alicent jabs, shooting quick assertiveness when she presses her crossed palms onto the table. Your name leaves her lips as a clear sign of hope. “She was the closest companion to the King and has been since this war started. It is only right for her to continue her husband’s intentions and plans.” 

“And what plans did the King have?” A pompous statement coming from her second son, which surprised you as well. Aemond was known for his restrained nature however it seems as days passed, he was slowly losing his grip on his sanity. “I am the closest heir the King has. Would it not be I who rules in his stead?” In the turn of the tides, the room is divided upon their suggestions. You can tell by the wary looks the lords hold with each other. However, you have been grateful for Alicent’s support regardless of the cold shoulder she has given you previously. 

“You are not fit, Prince Aemond,” Your fingers slide and take hold of the marble ball in front of you. The weight of the object pleasantly gives you a boost of poise to look him in his one good remaining eye. “The King’s line is still secured for my son, Meagor will become the next heir. But he is young so for the time being, I am naturally the next in line to come to his stead. As his wife and Queen, I should have a say as well.” 

It’s what Aegon would’ve wanted.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

A brother's duty. // Husband!Aegon ii Targaryen x Wife!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aegon seemed to have noticed how much his younger brother, Aemond, fancies you, as a self proclaimed caring older brother, he decides to fulfill that role by giving Aemond what he wants, which is you.

WARNINGS: afab!fem!reader, dubious consent, threesome, m/m/f, dacryphilia, rough sex, manhandling, slight humiliation, degrading, double penetration, mentions of infidelity (aegon visiting brothels), slight misogyny, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), pussy drunk aemond, lactation kink, cum eating, anal sex, lmk if I missed any! + not proofread.

WC: 4.7k

A brother's betrayal. - can be read as p2

A/N: the anal sex in this isn't "realistic" aka no prior preparation so please don't come at me and go ''that isn't how anal sex works 😡😡😡 you have to do blah blah blah'' ik but this is just a work of fiction so pls just enjoy it // divider credits: @cafekitsune

“Aemond, do you perhaps fancy my wife?” Aegon tilts his head to the side, questioning his brother as they sit together in the library, quietly reading, of course, until the short pale haired man decided to break the silence.

“Brother, this is no place for such discussions.” Aemond tries dodging the question, but Aegon simply rolls his eyes grunting loudly in displeasure, “Just answer the question.” Aegon says annoyed and Aemond pursues his lip, lost deep in thought.

“What if I say ‘yes’?” Aemond asks, “Then I'd have your head for that.” Aegon smiles which makes Aemond shift uncomfortably in his seat, “Come on! I was kidding, do you really think I'd kill my own blood-related brother over a woman?” Aegon laughs loudly and Aemond sighs but he furrows his brows, “She is your wife.” Aemond states sternly, but Aegon shrugs, “And you are my brother.” He replies.

Aemond lets out another heavy sigh, hoping that he'd escape this situation he'd somehow gotten into, “So?” Aegon pushes further, poking at Aemond to answer the question and Aemond hums in irritance before being fed up and answering Aegon's question. “Yes, I do fancy your wife.” He admits, slightly ashamed.

Aemond was a man of the faith, believing in the faith of the seven, and according to the scripture, desiring a woman is a carnal sin, diabolical if she's a married woman, abysmal if she's your own brother's wife.

But Aemond couldn't help it, it's as if though the gods were testing him, not only were you pleasant on the eye but you were also very polite and had the same interests as him, and most probably the only woman — besides his sister — who was not disgusted after seeing his injury.

He knew he had to stop developing an interest towards you once he found out that you were being married to Aegon, but for some inexplicable reason; that only made him want you more, perhaps it was the label of you being ‘forbidden’ that enticed him further, making him yearn to get the taste of the forbidden fruit more than ever.

How he had wished that it was him instead, the one getting married to you, he wished it was he who fucked you, he wished it was him who got you pregnant, he wished it was his babe you waddled all around the red keep with, he wished it was his child that you had given birth to.

But those were nothing more than just wishes, wishes that would never come true, unless a miracle happens.

“That wasn't hard now was it?” Aegon's voice snaps Aemond out of his train of thoughts and Aemond simply hums, “Why did you ask such a question?” Aemond inquires curiously and Aegon smirks at him, “I may not be sober most of the time but the way you stare at her doesn't go unnoticed, your desire burns deep for her doesn't it? I've especially taken note of it when she was pregnant with my child, your eye never left her womb.” He answers and Aemond rolls his eye.

The atmosphere is filled with silence once again as Aemond continues to silently read his book.

“I would've let you fuck her if you had asked me to.” that statement which left Aegon's mouth made Aemond choke on his spit as he stared at him wide eyed, shocked at what he had just said, “Pardon?” Aemond gazes at Aegon confusedly, and Aegon gets a thrill out of this, watching his brother be flustered.

“I said what I said, you could've just told me so, you're my brother Aemond, how do you think I will ever turn any of your requests down?” Aegon says it so casually, as if he was giving an item that belonged to him which Aemond had always wanted so badly, except you weren't an item or an object.

Aemond remains silent, unable to talk because of how baffled he was, but Aegon pressed on, “Don't you wanna feel her cunt around your cock?” This makes Aemond slam his book down and get up, and Aegon raises his hands in surrender, “It was merely an offer, I wouldn't mind sharing her with you, we've shared whores before.” Aegon tries justifying his reasoning and Aemond scoffs, “But she is no whore, she is your wife, you should treat her with respect.” he replies agitated.

“Enough with the sterness, reply plainly, do you want to fuck her or no? I won't ever bring it up ever again if you say no, we'll pretend we never had this conversation.” Aegon sighs before raising his eyebrow.

Aemond swallows thickly, should he take this chance? He always yearned for you so badly, it's like the opportunity presented itself; he could seize it, but he was in a dilemma, not wanting you to face such disrespect, your self respect will be obliterated to pieces, you'd be drowning in self shame.

You were a very dignified lady, a woman who carried herself confidently no matter what, this is why you weren't even affected when Aegon still visited the brothels. As long as the word didn't get out, you were fine with it. You simply did your duty as a wife and a mother. He couldn't imagine you allowing him to fuck you and ruin your honour.

“Decide fast brother, I have to leave soon, it's been a while since I laid with my wife, the maesters had told me to give her a break for a minimum of six weeks, yet eight weeks have passed, my cock craves her cunt so desperately.” Aegon speaks explicitly, and Aemond's breath hitches in his throat, imagining what your cunt would be like. “Then why do you visit the brothels if you seem to like her so much?” He questions, trying to change topics, “That's cause she can't satiate my depravities, otherwise I wouldn't even be visiting those wenches anymore.” Aegon talks as though it was a minor inconvenience.

“Either way, decide quickly.” Aegon urges and Aemond swallows.

He opens his mouths to reject it, but for some odd reasons his mind forms a explicit thought of burying his cock inside your cunt which causes his cock to stir slightly, the blood flowing to it at the mere thought of fucking you.

‘No Aemond, she is your sister in law, your brother's wife, you cannot let this desire succumb you.’

‘But didn't you want this for a long time? Imagine how her cunt would weep when you'd shove your cock into it hm? Her breasts bouncing up and down while you thrust into her.’

He swallows thickly, those internal arguments happening in the span of seconds before he has had enough and made up his mind.

“Yes, I want to fuck her.”

The babe in your arms cooed as you rocked him gently — caressing his chubby cheeks with your thumb as he slowly fell asleep due to your movements, “He's cute isn't he?” You ask the servant that was in charge of him and she nodded, smiling at you.

“Yes princess, the more he grows, the more he resembles his father, Prince Aegon.” She gives her commentary and you give her a small smile and slightly nod your head. The babe finally closes its eyes, going into slumber and you chuckle at his cuteness, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, just then, the door the nursery opens which reveals ser criston cole.

You were confused as to why the kingsguard was here himself, “Prince Aegon has sent me in search for you, he is calling you to his chambers.” Those words were enough to clarify the situation. He wanted to lay with you, “I'll be there in a minute.” you reply and he nods, you give the babe to the servant before smoothening your dress, and leaving the nursery.

You reach your martial chambers quickly, you turn around to thank Cole and dismiss him, you then open the door to the chambers and shut them just as quickly, taking a deep breath before turning around and venturing deeper into the room.

You spot Aegon sitting in his chair, but what was odd was that he was accompanied by Aemond, who you've meet occasionally and had nothing but a positive opinion on about, you were confused on what he was doing here.

Maybe Aegon did not want to lay with you? Maybe Aegon was trying to get closer to his brother for having a bond of a family? You knew how strongly bonded these brothers are, especially since after whatever happened at driftmark, so it wouldn't be weird to assume that Aegon is trying to get you and Aemond to become good friends.

“Ah, wife.” Aegon gets up from his chair, coming over to hug you, and you return it awkwardly, knowing that Aemond is in the same room, Aegon chuckles at your awkwardness. He quickly gets behind you, pushing you forward until you're right in front of Aemond who stares at you from below, all the while Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck.

You're confused not knowing what's happening, “Brother, undo her front laces.” Aegon commands and you furrow your brows immediately, baffled at how Aegon was behaving, perhaps he had drunk too much? You felt bad for Aemond, probably stuck in this unwanted situation, you try to give him an escape route but you are surprised when his warm knuckles graze against your collarbones as his fingers hook underneath your laces, beginning to pull them apart.

You were perplexed by his actions, not knowing what to do, you grip his arm from further undoing the laces but Aegon forcefully pulls your hands back, holding both of them behind you as Aemond pulls off the corset.

You were wearing a dress with no sleeves, but that did not mean you went completely shoulderless, your shift and chemise beneath you acted as the sleeve’s replacement, so when Aemond undoes the laces that were holding your long gown up, it immediately plummets to the floor, leaving you in your chemise.

Aegon nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck from behind, taking in your scent while placing small kisses on your shoulder, still not letting go of your hands, “Darling, I hope you don't mind Aemond joining us today, he had admitted to me that he fancies you, and as his older brother, it is in my responsibility that i take care of my brothers needs.” Aegon coos into your ear and you bite your lip, you are about to respond but you are interrupted by your own gasp when you feel Aemond caress your breasts, squeezing the flesh and playing with them.

“I'm afraid— I don't understand?.” You reply confusedly, staring at Aemond play with the mounds of your breasts, and Aegon chuckles into your ear pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I'm simply allowing him to wet his dick inside your cunt.” Aegon puts it plainly, making you bite your lip in shame; all the while Aemond's hand slowly travels up your thigh, underneath your chemise, before it disappears inside; reaching your core.

You squeal when you feel him pinch your clit before he stroked small circles onto it.

“W-why?” You question, trying to free your hands from Aegon's grip but he doesn't budge, but instead watches with amusement as his brother's hand brings out such reactions from you, you whimper as Aemond's finger travels down your slit and to your opening.

“It's my duty as his older brother.” Aegon replies nonchalantly, Aegon loosens his grip momentarily, changing his grip so he can hold both of your hands in one of his. His free hand lifts your chemise up, as he peeks from over your shoulder to see what his brother's hand was doing to your cunt, he chuckles mockingly when he sees your juices dripping from in between your legs.

“Look at her leaking yeah? Her cunt is literally weeping.” Aegon comments and you clench your eyes shut because of the humiliation you are feeling, your husband is parading you out like a whore for his younger brother, and Aemond— whom you've thought of so highly— is letting this happen while participating in the act.

You gasp when you feel one of Aemond's finger enter you, your walls tightly clamping around his finger which makes him grunt, “Fuck you're squeezing my fingers.” He breathlessly says. Aemond suckles on your neck, biting your sensitive spot which makes you whimper. Aegon finally lets go of your hands and then holds you by your waist before rubbing his cock against your ass.

Aemond's finger trail over the spongy spot inside of you, that makes you let out a moan and he takes note of this and presses against that area that causes you to tremble in pleasure, your hands fly up to his shoulders to balance yourself, though you knew you wouldn't fall, Aegon was holding from behind after all.

You were trapped between these two men, both of them peppering kisses on the opposite sides of your neck making you feel dizzy so you rest your head on Aegon’s shoulder, revealing more of your neck for the men to claim.

Aemond adds another finger inside you, stretching you out whilst providing you pleasure, his fingers skillfully grazing your spongy spot, constantly hitting it with precision.

You didn't even feel your peak approaching; it was ripped out of you so suddenly, you let out a loud moan of Aemond's name, clenching onto his shoulders extremely tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks at the intensity of your peak. Aegon's warm tongue glides over your face, collecting your tears on his tongue and licking at them.

You feel Aemond pull his fingers out of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as he puts them in his mouth, licking your essence up before he hums in delight, before pressing a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself.

You are surprised when you are pulled away from him by Aegon, he lifts you up hurriedly and carries you over to the bed before harshly throwing you on it, he is quick to undress, taking off his breeches and undergarments, getting completely naked and harshly grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

His hands rip apart your chemise in a hurry, before he forcefully spreads apart your legs and positions himself in between, he gives you no warning before roughly shoving himself inside you, that make you slightly shriek in pain but eventually the pain fades, he moves in and out of you fast paced, ramming into your hole with such an intensity that it has you seeing stars.

“Are you jealous?” Aemond taunts Aegon and Aegon rolls his eyes, “No, I just couldn't hold back anymore, I've missed her cunt so much.” He replies to the taunt and Aemond chuckles, undoing his own breeches, freeing his cock from its confines. “Can I use her mouth?” He asks Aegon and Aegon grunts, “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.” he thrusts brutally into you.

You feel the space next to your head sink and you look over slightly only to be face to face with Aemond's cock, it forms a shadow over your face under the candle lights, you gasp when you see it physically throb. You've never seen that before.

He uses that slight opening as a chance, hooking his thumb in your mouth and spreading your mouth open before pushing his cock inside your mouth, you are taken aback by this and try to pull away but Aemond holds your head in place before shoving himself inside your mouth further, his tip caresses the back of your throat, which makes you gag on his cock, but that only further provides additional pleasure as he groans.

“Seven hells—” Aemond grumbles, his hand hold your hand as he thrusts into your mouth, thumb caressing the outline of his cock that forms in your throat when he pushes as the way, your eyes well up with tears and soon you're panting for air that makes you involuntarily suck on his cock, Aegon's thrusts from downwards make your body jolt upwards, taking more of Aemond's cock.

Aemond suddenly pulls out which makes you suck a sharp breath automatically, “Easy there sweetheart.” Aemond coos and you pant heavily staring at him with doe eyes, “I'll shove it once again alright? Breathe— through your nose— fuckkk.” Aemond instructs as he shoves his dick inside your mouth again, but this time you're prepared so you follow his instructions.

You hollow your cheeks which makes him grunt in satisfaction, “Good girl.” Aemond compliments you, which causes your cunt to clench around Aegon's cock, to which he responds by a chuckle, “Guess she liked that brother, she's squeezing the fuck out of me.” Aegon talks to his brother and Aemond hums in response, Aegon's thrusts speed up, that constantly hit your sweet spot, he bends forwards and takes one of your breast in your mouth, suckling on the nipple and soon– beads of white droplets begin to come out, directly into his mouth that makes him suck more harshly, enjoying the taste of your sweet milk.

“She's lactating? Fuck I wanna have a taste.” Aemond moans, noticing how the milk started to drip from the sides of Aegon's mouth.

Aegon's tip constantly caresses your spongy part, which causes something to tighten in your stomach before it eventually snaps, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and choke on Aemond's dick.

The sensation of your throat tightening around his cock makes Aemond finish as well, he shoots his load down your throat which you have no option but to swallow, and soon— Aegon is finishing inside, painting your inner walls white.

He pulls out immediately after, falling forward onto you and positioning you in such a way that he is able to suckle more, Aemond joins him soon after; shuffling and turning down to take your free breast into his mouth.

You couldn't help but whine as the two brothers suckled on each of your breasts, your recent high made you even more susceptible to sensitivity, yet you couldn't help but caress their heads gently, Aemond clamped his teeth down on to your nipple hardly which made you wince; but he later soothed the area with the wetness of his tongue. Aegon on the other hand was more careful to not graze his teeth against your sensitive buds, only using his tongue and swirling it around your swollen bud.

Aemond let's go with a wet pop, cleaning up the milk and sat up straight before tugging you, this displeased Aegon who wasn't done yet, but he had to let go, Aegon watches as Aemond settles in between your legs before he crawls down, by then Aegon had already caught on to what he was doing, and assisted him by holding you against his chest, your back pressed against him tightly, meanwhile you on the other hand; had no idea what Aemond was about to do.

“Aemond what are you— huh? Ahhh!—” You ended up squealing in surprise when you felt him place his wet tongue on your clit— you tried to shut your legs from the embarrassment but Aegon held them open— so you could only watch helplessly as Aemond gave kitten licks to your clit, which undoubtedly made you feel pleasure.

He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit before fully engulfing it in his mouth, sucking on the flesh as if he's starving, Aegon's cock is already beginning to harden again as he witnessed such a depraved act.

Aemond groaned when he felt Aegon's seed in his mouth — which he sucked out of you — but he didn't let it stop from devouring you, his tongue licked through your folds before he sucked on your clit and let go of it with a pop before repeating the motion all over again, you unknowingly pushed his face further into your cunt, which made him moan knowing how desperate you were for him, the moan caused additional vibrations which sent pleasure through your body in waves.

You rested your head on Aegon's shoulder as you watched Aemond continue his ministrations, Aegon turned your head slightly before he connected his lips with yours and you moaned into the kiss.

The familiar feeling of the tightness began to form in your stomach again and you break the kiss with Aegon and start to hump Aemond's face involuntarily; trying to just desperately reach your high.

“You're such a fucking whore do you know that? You look so desperate humping your face against his face.” Aegon coos meanly into your ear and you whine, staring at him with teary eyes and he smirks meanly, pulling your hair harshly, “Whore.” He degrades you and your bottom lips tremble as you are about to start crying, but you aren't able to when your peak hits you at the same moment, making you moan in pleasure instead.

Aegon mockingly smiles at you, “Here I thought that you were a prim and proper lady, hell— you don't even let me do these things to you, but maybe my judgement was wrong, maybe you're a whore from the silk street disguised as a lady.” He accuses you meanly, you shake your head no at his accusation while trying to calm down from your high.

Aemond doesn't say anything to that, but simply sits up, and shifts positions once again, pulling you off Aegon and onto his lap instead, you cry onto his shoulders and he simply coos at you, he caresses your hair to calm you down, “Goodness brother, you've made her cry.” Aemond sneers at Aegon who just shrugs his shoulders. “I've only stated what I've observed.” He replies and you whimper.

“All of that aside— do you think she can take us both? In one hole.” Aegon speaks before Aemond could come up with a response and you furrow your brows, and Aemond is lost deep in thought, “We'll have to test it out.” Aemond responds and you push back, immediately staring at him wide eyes but Aemond just pecks your lips.

He lays down, taking you along with him, one hand holding you against him while the other is grabbing your hips and sinking you down on his boner, you bite your lip at the delicious stretch, you're in a position where Aegon can clearly see your pussy stretching around Aemond's cock. Aegon straddles Aemond's knees and lines his cock against your entrance and you turn your head back to see what he was doing, his cock bumped with Aemond's before he found a slight opening to shove his cock into the same hole. “Ah—!” You let out a squeal from pain as you feel his tip intruding and stretching you far than you're capable of taking.

Aegon grows frustrated, not being able to enter his cock fully inside you as your walls clamp down, resisting furthermore intrudence, however that only makes Aemond's pleasure elevate as your walls squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck this, I'm taking her from the rear.” Aegon gives up pushing his cock inside you, you gasp when you feel his thumb poking and pushing inside your puckered hole on your behind. You cover your face with your hands ashamed but Aemond pulls them away before crunching upwards to kiss you on the lips.

Aegon collects your wetness that's dripping from your cunt and smears it on your slightly stretched out hole before doing the same with his cock and lining the tip with the entrance and slowly pushing it inside.

“Ahh— Aegon— wait– I don't think— hgh!” You squeal once his fully settles inside you, and you couldn't help but tremble from the burn of the stretch as he slowly started to move, tears streamed down your face when you felt Aemond move too.

You were feeling highly humiliated, how your dignity has now been sullied, though this encounter wouldn't get out; you knew you wouldn't be able to see Aemond in the same light again, you'd always think about this day whenever you'd encounter him, a dirty little secret you'll have to keep hidden from the realm.

You are pulled from your thoughts with a sharp thrust from both of them penetrating you, you couldn't stop it but moans slipped from your mouth like prayers, you gasped and choked while calling out their names, the position; the act; the pleasure and humiliation you were feeling all combined made you feel hot, and to your horror, the pain began to subside leading you to enjoy this act.

You clinged onto Aemond as the brothers both rammed into you at such a fast pace that made you see stars, you clenched your eyes shut at the new sensations they were making you feel, and soon you're moving in rhythm along with them.

“Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum.” Aegon grunts, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy, “Me too.” You tell him and Aemond takes that as a cue to thrust faster into you, his hips ramming against you, the sound of flesh slapping rapidly fills the room.

Once again, you're blinded by the pleasure that was ripped from you, you came with a loud moan just as simultaneously as Aegon did, he pulled out and came on your back, he couldn't help but watch in awe as his seed dripped down onto your ass cheeks.

Aemond's pace became slow and messy, indicating that he was near too, “I'm gonna cum inside you, get you pregnant alright? This time you'll carry my child, not Aegon's. I'll make sure of it.” He grunts out mindlessly, pressing you down tightly to his chest, and Aegon just snickers. “Only time will tell, Brother.” Aegon replies snarky.

And with that, Aemond finishes inside you, shooting his seed far up into your walls, and you just nod silently, processing his words, his grip loosens after he finishes you fall off him and onto the bed, and soon Aegon collapses tiredly as well.

You hoped silently, that this would be the last of it, and that you'll not have to do this again, though it was enjoyable— it was humiliating, you were not that kind of lady that indulges in such depravity, maybe you'll be able to forget this and move on as if it never happened.

You prayed to the gods desperately.

But the gods are cruel.

Such encounters became frequent, Aegon and Aemond were enjoying it too much to stop, and soon you eventually got used to the routine, yet you couldn't help but feel guilty when you'd go to the sept with Alicent, when she prays that Aemond can find a good match, when she talks about the proposals that came for Aemond to you, unbeknownst to the fact that her son was constantly fucking you and was way too obsessed with you to let go of you and marry another woman.

He'd began fuck you without Aegon being involved and when you told Aegon about it, he simply shrugged furthermore simply allowing him to do so, telling you that it was his duty as a brother to let Aemond have the things he wants, the very same excuse he used during the first time.

“So, what do you think about Floris Baratheon? Do you think she's a good match for you?” Alicents voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you stare at her, who is addressing Aemond, who seemed to be as disinterested as ever.

“She's decent.” He replies shortly before he turns his gaze to you, and you immediately avoid it, staring at Alicent instead who sighs in annoyance, soon; the feeling of stickiness between your legs—which you've tried to ignore— becomes more imminent the longer he stares at you.

And guilt overwhelms you, you didn't know why you were even joining this meeting with Alicent, you –infact– hated it, knowing that moments prior to this, you were fucking Aemond in the secret hallways of the keep.

And that his seed was currently dripping out of you.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[venusbyline]

WIP Wednesday (28.05.2025)

Modern AU, dark, dubcon smut

drug dealer!Aegon II Targaryen x college student niece!reader

"Auntie Hel isn't home?" Aegon took the joint he was smoking out of his mouth, pressing it a little hard between his forefinger and thumb due to the slight fright he had just felt. The smoke got stuck in his lungs and he had to cough four times to be able to breathe properly again. Having his bedroom door open so suddenly was already unusual in itself — considering that his siblings always avoided entering there without knocking first, apprehensive about witnessing their eldest brother fucking random girls or boys —, but having the door opened like that by his annoying niece? That was more unexpected than he could have imagined. He took a sip of the beer that he was holding with his other hand, wanting to soothe the burning in his throat, and then grumbled: "Damn, girl. Don't you know how to knock?" Drinking more, he added with a question. "And how'd you get here?" "Daeron gave me a key yesterday, since you didn't open that stupid door for me last week." His niece shot back, crossing arms and walking into the room without bothering to close the door behind. "Of course it was my little brother." Aegon grumbled again, before taking one more puff of the joint. No coughing this time. "Loverboy keeps trying to get in your pants."

[demigoddessqueens]

Person A who’s feeling flirtatious and teasing, meanwhile Person B has the existential crisis of being intimately known and craves more of the attention and affection

[beatlebvm]

wet dream

summary: after a long night of intense activities, aegon targaryen falls asleep in the arms of his sweet and pretty niece visenya not knowing that in the morning there will be a surprise waiting for him.

pairing: aegon II targaryen x visenya targaryen (rhaenyra's daughter)

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: not proofread, 18+ mdni, language, smut, just filth and little fluff if you squint at the end, oral sex (m receiving), it's con — basically waking him up with head :P. ugly ending :/. ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE!!!

author's note: this might be the last and only thing i'll ever publish in my life since i still have traumas from my wattpad era of 10 years ago lmao. i feel super insecure about this, it sounded nicer in my head but i hope you like it too!

maybe it was a dream.

such a beautiful dream — as the ones you don't want to wake up from, the ones you want to live through until the last second, the last bit. and it was so good.

too good to be true. visenya's mouth was so warm and welcoming, soft and wet just as aegon liked, and her lips moved eagerly and confidently, playing and sucking him off with the only ways she knew. aegon sighed, his hips shifted and he could already feel himself harden in his state of semi-unconsciousness, between wakefulness and a deep slumber.

her sultry gaze was fixed on him, a mischievous smirk lingered on her pretty lips and aegon just wanted to tear it away with an harsh thrust of his hips, wanted to feel her gag around his cock. but visenya just chuckled at his weak attempt to. gods, why was she so warm? why did it feel so real?

aegon shifted again, the dream was starting to get uncomfortable, his cock was rock hard and borderline painful and he couldn't bear it for any longer. plus, a strange stickiness between his legs seemed to grow and the targaryen was pretty sure that he might've spilled on his bed sheets with just that dream. a fucking dream. how embarrassing if someone found out that he wetted his bed at the modest age of twenty?

he shifted again and again, until the maddening image of visenya sucking his cock vanished in a blurry corner of aegon's mind, much to his displeasure. he could've stayed like that forever. but the discomfort and the wetness didn't leave, his cock still hard.

and the sounds too.

wet sound after wet sound, a few soft sighs and aegon was pretty sure that it wasn't just a dream anymore, and when finally sleepiness was slipping away and he was finally back into the real world, his eyes opened — visenya was there.

laying on his bed, her body still bare in all of its glory and naked from the night before when they indulged in their pleasurable and greedy company, her head dipped on to his lap. but she wasn't supposed to be there. not at that time — weak sunlight penetrated the windows of aegon's chambers, shades of orange and yellow sealed the dawn just creeping over king's landing and also aegon's full attention on the girl in front of him.

it wasn't just a dream. a wet dream. visenya was there, her lips really moving on him and the smirk on her face widened as she realized that her uncle finally awakened up. “good morning.”

good fucking morning indeed.

aegon blinked a few times, rubbed his eyes until his vision was clear just to make sure that his sweet niece was really there, and a rush of pleasure crossed through his body when visenya’s tongue teased and pressed on the slit of his dick. she shouldn’t have been there — by dawn visenya should’ve sneaked out of his chambers and gone back to her own to avoid unpleasant encounters within the halls of the red keep, unpleasant questions about her strange presence at such late hours in those corridors, or why the daughter of rhaenyra targaryen was just coming out of prince aegon’s chambers.

“w-what the fuck are you doing here?”, aegon asked, his voice low and raspy from a deep sleep which sent a shiver down visenya’s spine. but despite his harsh words, aegon wasn’t displeased by visenya’s presence, at all.

he wanted so bad to fuck that pretty face, thrust his hips up her mouth and claim her throat just like they both needed to, but aegon’s body was still heavy and stiff from his slumber — his hand found visenya’s silver hair and gripped them in a weak fist, guiding and following the motions of her head down his cock but not forcing her, jut telling her silently to not stop and continue with the superb and lovely job she was doing.

“isn’t that obvious?”, visenya teased, her voice hoarse too but holding that suggestive tone that always characterized her everytime she was in aegon’s company. her hand stroked him gently, not wanting to overwhelm him and leave him without attention as she spoke at the same time.

aegon whined, his fingers tightened around visenya’s wavy strands as he watched her mouth engulf him once again and swallowing him whole in her warmth. fuck, she was so good, too good to him. he was an asshole, and sometimes he felt he was just using her, taking advantage of her need for him — it was so wrong, sharing the bed and getting his cock wet from who aegon considered a bastard hs entire life, even if her hair were silver and her eyes of pale purple, her other features didn’t lie. but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t pull away, even if visenya was rhaenyra’s daughter. “you shouldn’t be here.”

visenya cocked an eyebrow up, the idea of leaving didn’t even cross her mind when aegon’s protest sounded and came out of his lips more lighthearted than he wanted. he didn’t want for her to stop, she could read well the signs of his body well, no matter how weak they were: the slightest twitch of his hips, the way his hand seemed to push her head down more and more. “do you want me to stop?”

aegon didn’t reply in that moment, a moment of silence followed and only interrupted by the soft sighs and grunts leaving his lips and visenya’s mouth wet sounds. his body reacted once again, his hips weakly buckled up searching for more pleasure — which visenya didn’t give to him, and aegon couldn’t simply take it anymore. he needed her, needed that release. “n-no, fuck—”.

and his sweet niece didn’t need any more words, resuming her motions and giving aegon the good morning she planned to gift him and he was glad to take everything, feeling any resistance leave his body the moment pleasure settled in completely. not that there was some actual resistance. the farce was pathetic as much as aegon’s pretense that it was just sex between him and visenya, that there was no actual feeling growing for his favorite and only niece.

the obscene sounds of visenya’s mouth only grew louder as she doubled her efforts, her cheeks hollowed around him and the sight alone was almost enough to make aegon come on the spot — he couldn’t wait to fill that mouth with his seed, claim it and see her swallow his cum like the greedy and good girl visenya was. he shutted his eyes, and his mind was soon filled with memories of previous night, when visenya rode his cock like her life depended on it and with her pretty tits bouncing everytime their hips met, her moans echoing in the four walls of his chambers.

fuck, it couldn’t be already it… and yet visenya noticed aegon’s body tensing up, his balls tightening up under her warm palm, and she knew that in a matter of seconds and a few other gags around his cock ropes of his cum would paint her throat. and she couldn’t be more ready for it, more eager to taste him and not waste a single drop. “vis, i—”.

and just like visenya predicted, it took aegon a few moments to completely shudder and let the bliss overflow his body and mind, coming and spilling into her welcoming mouth with a single and beautiful moan that made visenya quiver too. aegon seemed to lighten, he buckled his hips up a few times, the tip of his dick kissed the back of visenya’s throat and spurts of his warm cum marked her as his, and he made sure that no drop went to waste. aegon could’ve died right in that moment and he would’ve been the happiest man in the whole world — no better awakening than that one could’ve existed and aegon couldn’t have felt better than in that moment. he was so fucking lucky to have her, he couldn’t believe it.

sadly, to aegon’s displeasure and reluctance the peak didn’t last as much as he desired and the effects of it inevitably subsided but he couldn’t help but groan again as he felt visenya’s thighs straddle his hips and her settle on top of him once again. just like last night. with a satisfied sigh and a greedy lick of her lips, visenya hid her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around his torso, leaving a few sloppy and lazy kisses on the pale skin of his throat. aegon sighed too, his arms doing the same with her and let himself enjoy the warmth that her sweet embrace brought. he could’ve done that every morning and never got tired of it — fuck anybody’s suspiciousness.

a weary smile creeped on aegon’s lips as he nuzzled his nose against her soft hair, his heart swelling with content as he heard visenya chuckle lightly at his gentle tickle. his fingers caressed her kindly, with a sweetness that rarely characterized aegon and that he never showed in public, but for a reason or another, it felt right to act around visenya like that, almost unconsciously even. he brought his lips to her hair, tilting her head to kiss her forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks and eventually her lips with chaste but sweet pecks. aegon could briefly taste himself on her soft lips and it almost spurred him on and made his cock to stiffen but he held back, wanting to savour the moment with visenya.

“good morning indeed.”

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Dinner & Diatribes

❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞

Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.

Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.

It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.

You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye. 

It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app. 

You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened. 

“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.

Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever. 

In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself. 

There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent. 

“So, I’m high.”

“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”

“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”

“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”

Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message. 

“That was weird as fuck, right?”

Then a sixth.

“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”

He finishes up with a seventh message.

“Unless you do…”

He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot. 

Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner. 

Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”. 

Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”

“Be there soon,” you reply with haste. 

It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out.  She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on. 

You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place. 

Finally, you knock. 

Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest. 

“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”

The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer. 

Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.  

Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him. 

“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.

The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.” 

“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.” 

“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.” 

He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him. 

However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”

Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.” 

You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval. 

“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.” 

You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen. 

There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals. 

“Water is fine,” you tell him. 

He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf. 

Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed. 

“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”

“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.

He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”

“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close. 

You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence. 

“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”

“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”

“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension. 

“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.” 

“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”

“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.” 

“I’m listening.”

“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.” 

“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”

“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully. 

“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”

Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.

There’s only one way this night ends.

It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now. 

“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.

His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it. 

The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering. 

It’s good. Better than most. 

Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile. 

“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”

The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter. 

“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin. 

“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side. 

“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.” 

“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”

“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.

“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”

His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?” 

“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”

“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.” 

“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”

Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.

It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts. 

Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 

His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands. 

“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”

He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. 

Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name. 

Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin. 

“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you. 

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair. 

You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom. 

When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.

Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.

When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.

You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak. 

He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow. 

“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat. 

You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment. 

Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer. 

“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest. 

"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"

He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”

Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!” 

He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen. 

“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”

“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.” 

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”

He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”

“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aegon x niece! reader (Rhaenyra’s daughter) smut please! Aegon has always been in love with her and manages to convince Alicent and Viserys to let him marry her. The reader is just as in love and when they get married, thwir wedding night is full of love and passion and 🫦. Aegon hugging her tight while fucking her and reader whimpering and moaning in his ear 🤌🏽

I received so many requests these past days and got inspiration for a lot of them (14!!), so expect more very soon <3 I'm trying to include everything (smut, angst, action)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p + v, loss of virginity

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Standing in the Great Sept of Baelor, your eyes couldn’t stray from Aegon. Blood was dripping slowly from his bottom lip after being cut after being cut and smeared on his forehead. His frizzy hair had been tamed and the cold of his clothes made the blue of his eyes stand out. 

A dagger was handed to you to cut your palm with. You hissed slightly, watching as blood seeped out. You held your hand away from your pretty dress, not wishing to dirty it with blood, then passed the dagger to Aegon who did the same. He clasped his hand with yours, your blood mingled together as a blood silk was wrapped over your joined hands. 

Queen Alicent wanted Aegon to marry following the Faith of the Seven, but he insisted on Valyrian tradition as the bond by blood was unbreakable. 

‘’Blood of two, joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time or darkness and light,’’ the officiant said, reading from an old book. 

Aegon could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t wait to call you his wife, to walk around court with your arm looped around his. And to no longer have a chaperon following you everywhere. It was so annoying. The only times you were able to be alone together was when you would elope on your dragons. 

If your parents thought a chaperon would stop you from sharing kisses and letting your hands wander to places they should not be, they were mistaken. 

The officiant finally allowed you to kiss, and every part of Aegon ached to shove his tongue into your mouth and kiss the life out of you in front of everyone. But he restrained himself, settling for a kiss that would be just enough to make your cheeks flush. 

When the ceremony came to an end, everyone was bright back to the Keep. You rode a carriage with Aegon and your little brother, Joffrey, which you suspected was a scheme by your parents to make sure no sexual activities would happen in the carriage. 

Aegon's hand was resting on your thigh, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear. ‘’This is so frustrating. They really did this on purpose, didn't they?’’ 

‘’It’s not entirely a bad thing. I wouldn’t want you to crease or stain my dress before the feast,’’ you said, smoothing the shimmery white fabric of your dress as you fawned over the gold embroideries. You had never seen a more beautiful gown.  

Aegon smiled smugly, thinking back to your last dragon ride together and the kisses you shared in the clearing…and his hand that slipped into your riding pants. ‘’Little does these fools know, we’ve played them before.’’ Smirking, he leaned in again. ‘’You know what kind of effect you have on me, wearing that dress. Especially knowing what's underneath.’’ He gave your thigh a little squeeze, his hand starting to move upwards just for a moment.

You quickly covered his hand with your own, stopping him. ‘’Stop it. Not here.’’ 

You looked over and saw Joffrey sitting on the opposite seat. Luckily, the boy was too preoccupied staring out the window to notice anything.

A sigh left your husband’s lips. ‘’I don’t want to wait until tonight. I won’t be able to.’’ 

Thankfully, the journey to the Red Keep was short. The doors to the carriage were opened and Aegon stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you out. He took a moment to let his eyes roam over your body, his gaze hungry. Before he could say anything, you pulled him towards the castle and to the throne room where the festivities would be held. Inside, the room was decked out with gold drapes and beautiful flowers — nothing less for a royal wedding. 

The music began as you and Aegon made your first entrance together, your arm linked to his. He had promised to not let you fall in front of the lord and ladies. The guests cheered as you both made your way down the grand aisle, to the large table where your families stood, waiting for you to begin the feast.

As the night went on, you danced and ate cake and indulged in more wine that you would allow yourself to help with the nerves later. You were dancing with Helaena and laughing when you felt an arm snake around your waist and wet lips on your neck.  

You leaned into Aegon’s chest and Helaena took this as her cue to find another dance partner. 

‘’Do you think they will notice if we leave the festivities early?’’ he whispered in your ear, having enough of this feast and wanting to be alone with you. 

You glanced around, searching for your parents. They seemed all involved in conversations with other lords and ladies, but one last pair of eyes was on you: Otto Hightower. Since he caught you kissing in an alcove when you were five and ten, he had been following you and Aegon like a hawk, disproving of your courtship.  

‘’If you can find a way to escape your grandsire, I’ll follow you,’’ you replied. 

Aegon’s laughter mixed with yours as you were running to Megor’s Holdfast where the royal chambers were. It felt like all the times you slipped away from court together to avoid being caught.  

As soon as the door of Aegon’s chambers closed, his lips were on yours and his hands were all over you, grabbing and pulling with a hunger that made your pulse race. The urgency in his movements left you breathless, your body responding instinctively to his touch. 

Clothes were taken off in haste, allowing your lips to kiss more skin. You threw your head back and moaned softly, nails sinking into Aegon's milky skin as he kissed down your neck and to your bared breasts, giving them the attention he's dreamed of. 

‘’Aegon, please,’’ you whimpered, feeling his erect cock prod at your lower stomach. 

He pressed a last kiss to your nipple and nodded, walking you back to his bed. You crawled up to the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Aegon joined you, hovering over you, and studying your flushed face for a moment, before he bent down to kiss your lips again.

You were thankful that your mother had opposed the humiliation of a bedding ceremony. You would never have been able to relax under the eyes of men standing around the bed, waiting for blood to mark the sheets. 

While you were distracted by his kiss, Aegon moved a hand between your bodies to play with your cunt a little, helping you relax and prepare you for his cock. His girth was larger than the fingers he’s inserted before and he didn’t want to hurt you. 

It would be a lie to say you didn't feel anything when he slid into you. The pain was unlike anything you felt before. Seeing the tears prick in your eyes and your pained face, Aegon was quick to sooth you with sweet words until the pain subsided. 

His first thrusts were slow and overwhelming. It was a kind of pleasure you never experienced before. 

‘’I love you, Aegon,’’ you said, seeing stars when he reached a particular spot.

He kissed you sweetly. ‘’I love you.’’ 

You hugged him tight while he moved his hips, his ears blessed by your whimpers and moans.  

A chill blew from the windows, refreshing the warm air after your entercourse. You shivered, clinging to Aegon under the sheets. He closed his eyes, ready for a night of sleep, when your voice stirred him.

‘’Can we do it again?’’ you asked in a whisper, your head resting on his chest while bathing in the afterglow.  

Aegon grinned at the ceiling, thanking the gods for giving him a wife that was just as horny as him.

—

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[hisfavegirl]

Held Only in Dreams - Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader.

Summary : There was a time when your halls rang with laughter. When your chambers were filled with the soft shuffle of tiny feet and the scent of lemon cakes cooling on the windowsill. A time when your husband’s hand curled possessively over the swell of your stomach, whispering prayers to gods he claimed not to believe in. A time when you were not only queen—but mother, wife, sister, daughter, beloved. That time is gone. Now, the Red Keep feels like a tomb. Your son is dead—burned before your eyes in the dragonpit, his small body offered to flame while your screams echoed through stone and fire. And with him, the future you built crumbled to ash.

Warning : Reader is Rhaenyra's Daughter, Angst, Mentions Of Bloods, Fluff, Child Loss, Stillbirth, Grief, Death Of a Loved One, Trauma, War-related Violence.

Aegon II Targaryen Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

Tom Glynn-Carney Masterlist.

Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

The scent of death was a bitter perfume in the Dragonpit that day. Smoke, old stone, and blood clung to the air, heavy and unmoving, as though the world itself had paused to mourn. You stood still, the silk of your black mourning gown whispering around your legs in the thick silence. The wind toyed with the ends of your dark hair, but you barely felt it.

Your eyes—wide, bloodshot—were locked on the small, shrouded body of your son, Jaehaerys. He looked too small to be dead. Too light. Too still. The pyre of wood beneath him crackled faintly, waiting for flame. And yet all you could hear was the memory of his last breath.

“Mother—”

That broken whisper. That tremble in his lips. The way his little hand clutched yours like he still believed you could save him. It played again and again in your mind like a cruel curse. You couldn’t stop it. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to forget.

You did not weep. Not until it started.

Aegon moved before you even registered it.

He stepped forward, his white hair untamed in the wind, shadows etched deep under his violet eyes. He didn’t look like a king—he looked like a man stripped bare. The grief in his jaw was rigid, his throat moving as he swallowed it down, over and over again. His gaze flicked up to Sunfyre, who waited just beyond the pyre, golden and restless.

Aegon voice hoarse and unsteady.

“Dracarys.”

The word echoed.

And then Sunfyre unleashed.

The fire roared, gold and white, greedy and all-consuming as it swallowed the wood, the silk, the body. Your baby. The heat slammed into your face and that was when the sob tore free, unbidden and raw, and you collapsed.

Your knees hit the stone with a crack, hands shaking, teeth clenched so hard your jaw hurt. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. The flames danced in your eyes but all you saw was his smile—his first steps—his tiny fingers playing with your hair. Gone. Burned. Turned to ash.

You didn’t notice Aegon move until he was there—kneeling beside you, wrapping his arms around your trembling form like he was holding himself together by holding you. His grip was desperate, his chest shaking against your back.

“I should’ve protected him,” he said against your hair, his voice a whisper turned to splinters. “Gods, I should’ve protected him.”

You turned, slowly, painfully, looking at him through your tears. “We’re his parents. We both should have.”

He cupped your face, and for a moment, the firelight turned his eyes to molten amethyst. “You blame me,” he said, barely audible.

“I blame the war. I blame the greed. I blame the fucking throne,” you whispered, gripping the front of his coat. “I don’t have room to hate you, Aegon. I’m too full of hurt.”

He nodded, a slow, devastated motion, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath was hot with whiskey and regret.

“I wake up hearing his voice,” he said. “Every godsdamned night. And I pray for the morning when it doesn’t break me.”

Your lips parted, your breath catching. “Then let it break you. Let it destroy everything, but not us. Not now.”

Aegon’s thumb brushed your cheek as if memorizing the shape of your sadness. “Then burn with me,” he said, voice cracking. “We burn together.”

You kissed him—not for passion, not for want, but for grief. A kiss that trembled with loss, mouths crushed together in silence, tasting salt and ashes. It was an anchor. A promise. A shared ruin.

Behind you, your son’s pyre roared louder. And as the sky darkened and the smell of smoke soaked into your skin, you held each other there on the cold stone floor—two parents grieving a child lost to the madness of dragons and crowns.

The fire ate everything but the pain.

The hearth crackled, low and unrelenting, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls of your shared chambers. It was late, though you couldn’t say what hour. Time had lost its meaning somewhere between the scream that tore from your lips the day Jaehaerys died, and the silence that followed.

You sat curled in front of the fire, your nightgown wrinkled and damp with old tears, legs drawn up tightly to your chest. Your bare feet were cold against the floor, but you didn’t move. The warmth from the hearth touched your skin, but could not reach the frost that settled inside you. That hollow ache had rooted deep, twisting through your ribs like a knife left in place.

The door creaked open.

You didn’t look. You didn’t have to.

Alicent Hightower.

Her steps were soft, deliberate—like one might approach a wounded animal. You felt her presence like a shadow behind you. A ghost that lingered long after the spirit had gone.

“Child,” she called gently, the same tone she might’ve used before you married Aegon—before the world became red and burning and ash. “Please. Look at me.”

You didn’t.

Your gaze remained fixed on the fire. The flames were mesmerizing. They didn’t care who they consumed. Perhaps that’s why you liked them now.

“I did not come to fight,” Alicent continued after a moment. “I only came to see if you—”

“If I what?” you whispered, not turning your head. “If I still bleed? If I still have a voice to scream your name into the void of loss? If your grandson still lies in ash while you walk freely in silks?”

Silence. Her breath caught, but she didn’t move.

“I came to grieve with you,” she said quietly.

You laughed, a low, humorless sound that scraped from your throat like gravel. “You came to ease your guilt. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I loved Jaehaerys.”

At that, you turned your head—slowly. Your brown eyes, hollow and rimmed with shadow, met hers with a weight that made Alicent physically recoil.

“Not enough to stop this,” you said. “Not enough to stop your father. Not enough to stop Aegon from being forced into a crown soaked in blood. You stood there. You chose it.”

“I was protecting my family.”

“And I lost mine.”

The words hung in the air, thick and furious, trembling on the edge of sobs. You pressed your forehead against your knees, voice muffled when you spoke again.

“The gods are cruel,” you whispered. “To take my grandsire. To make Aegon a king he never wanted to be. And now… now our boy. My son.”

Alicent stepped closer, but you raised your hand without looking.

“Do not touch me.”

She froze, her hands curling into her skirts.

“My son died because your house could not bear to see mine rule,” you continued, your voice low, steady, like the calm eye of a storm. “Because your father—your ambition—demanded Hightower blood on the throne.”

Alicent flinched. “You think I wanted this?”

“I think you let it happen,” you hissed, turning back to the fire. “And now I sit in a palace of rot, raising ashes to my lips and pretending they are food. I sleep in a bed soaked with the screams of a child who will never wake.”

“You are not alone in this—”

“I am!” you snapped, finally standing. “Do you think Aegon can even look at me without falling apart? Do you know what it’s like to feel your husband’s hands shake every time he touches your stomach, as if terrified he might find it growing again, and lose another child? Your grief is guilt. Mine is emptiness.”

Alicent’s face crumpled, but no tears fell. She swallowed her sorrow like she had done her whole life—one bitter cup after another.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

You shook your head, stepping closer to her, voice trembling now. “I was his mother. I should have died before he did. And instead, I live—watching my world fall to pieces while the people who shattered it come to me offering apologies wrapped in silence.”

Alicent reached out again, but this time you didn’t move away. You let her fingers brush your arm, light and uncertain.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” she said.

“I won’t.”

Her hand dropped.

“But,” you added softly, “if you want to honor Jaehaerys… if you want to be more than a puppet in your father’s hand, then fight for peace. Fight for something besides thrones and dragons and gods.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You have to.” You looked into her eyes, firm now. “Because I have nothing left to fight with.”

The fire behind you flared, its glow bleeding through your silhouette like a halo of grief. And Alicent, for the first time in years, said nothing. She just bowed her head and left you alone—again—with the flames.

The echo of your footsteps carried down the long, cold corridor of the Red Keep like a ghost haunting its own halls. You hadn’t walked them in days—not since the fire, not since the world bled your son from your arms and left behind the hollow shell of motherhood.

But today, the silence in your chambers had felt too loud. The walls too suffocating. The hearth too cold.

And so, wrapped in black, with your hair braided back like a warrior in mourning, you walked.

You reached the heavy doors of the council chamber and paused. Fingers curled at your sides. The guards opened them without a word, heads bowed—not as subjects to a queen, but as men who had seen death too close.

Inside, the chamber was dim despite the daylight. Clouds smothered the sun beyond the high windows. Around the long table, the council murmured—quiet, uncertain—but they stopped when they saw you.

And you saw him.

Aegon sat slouched in the throne-like seat at the head of the table, his shoulders curved forward as if the crown itself weighed too much to bear. His tunic hung open at the chest, the buttons undone and forgotten. There were dark circles under his eyes and stubble lining his jaw, as though days had passed without sleep, without care.

But worst of all—he wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even there. He stared blankly at the tabletop, unmoving, like a man carved from grief. Your heart clenched so tightly in your chest it hurt.

His head turned slowly when he felt your presence. His breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on you—as if you had appeared from a dream, or worse, a memory he wasn’t ready to see in the flesh.

You stepped forward, your voice soft but commanding.

“Leave us.”

The lords hesitated. One of them opened his mouth to protest—perhaps to speak of duties or strategy—but your gaze flicked to him, and the sharp grief in your eyes struck him dumb.

They stood, slowly. Chairs scraped the floor. Cloaks brushed the stone. No one dared speak. They filed out with silent bows, the doors clicking shut behind them, sealing you inside with him.

Aegon didn’t speak. Just looked at you like you were the last star in a dying sky.

You approached him slowly, your skirts rustling, your steps measured. Each one toward him felt like a step through fire. You stopped just before him, not touching, not breathing.

“I’ve missed you,” you said softly, your voice a cracked whisper.

His eyes brimmed, but no tears fell. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“You didn’t come to me either.”

“I couldn’t,” he rasped. “Every time I looked at the bed, I saw him. Every time I touched your pillow, I felt your sobs in my hands. Gods, I didn’t know how to be with you without falling apart.”

You dropped to your knees before him, your hands resting gently on his thighs, fingers curling into the fabric of his trousers.

“You’re supposed to fall apart with me, Aegon. We’re not meant to carry this alone.”

His chest heaved, and he looked away, ashamed. “I’m the king. I don’t get to grieve. I sit in this chair, I listen to them speak of banners and blood, and all I want is to scream his name until the gods bring him back to me.”

You leaned your forehead against his knee, eyes shutting. “I died with him too.”

His hand moved—tentative, trembling—and threaded into your hair.

“I keep waking up expecting him to run into our chambers,” he whispered. “Asking me to carry him on my shoulders again. And then I remember… what they did to him. What they took.”

He choked, his voice cracking with guilt. “He was only a boy. And I was supposed to protect him.”

You lifted your head and looked up at him, eyes glistening. “He died because they wanted your throne. Because we were born of fire, and they would rather burn the world than see it ruled by dragon blood not of their making.”

Aegon looked down at you—really looked—and his face crumpled. You stood, then, sliding into his lap, your arms around his neck. His hands grabbed at your back, desperate and tight, like he was trying to fuse you to him. His lips found your neck—not in lust, but in need—and he buried himself there, breathing you in like he was drowning and you were the only air.

“I need you,” he murmured against your skin. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You don’t have to.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your hand cupping his face.

“You’re not a king right now. You’re just my husband. Our son is gone, and all we have left is each other. If we don’t hold on to that, we’ll drown.”

He kissed you then—messy, wet, raw with grief and love and desperation. Not to forget, but to remember. To feel. His hands curled into your sides, pulling you closer, and your tears mixed between your mouths.

“I love you,” he whispered brokenly. “Even in this ruin, I love you.”

You pressed your forehead to his, breath mingling. “Then don’t leave me alone again.”

“I won’t.”

Outside, the war still burned. The court still whispered. The gods still played their cruel games.

But inside the council chamber, on a throne of sorrow, a king and queen clung to one another in the only kind of power that mattered now.

You stayed in Aegon’s arms long after the storm of sobs had passed, held together not by strength but by shared ruin. Your face was buried in the hollow of his neck, his hands splayed across your back as though if he stopped touching you, even for a moment, you’d vanish again. The air in the council chamber was heavy with salt and smoke, with grief and something older—like the lingering scent of burnt flesh and broken oaths.

It was the first time in days that you’d felt him. Truly felt him. And then the doors opened, Aegon’s arms tightened around you, instinctive and bracing.

You didn’t lift your head.

You didn’t need to.

You knew who it was the moment the sharp footfall struck the stone. Measured. Unflinching. Proud.

Aemond.

You remained perfectly still.

“My king,” his voice rang out, calm and cold, like the blade that had started this war. “The man who murdered your son—he is in the black cells. He awaits your judgment.”

Silence.

Aegon’s hand moved slowly, brushing over your hair, down your spine. You could feel his throat work against your cheek as he swallowed. You could feel the way his chest tensed beneath your palm, the way his rage and sorrow warred against each other like wildfire.

You didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Not when he was standing there. Not when his voice was in the air you had to breathe.

“You should go,” you said quietly, not lifting your head. Aegon looked down at you, confused.

“I can’t—” Your voice cracked. “I won’t see him.”

“My love…”

You pulled away from Aegon’s embrace just enough to sit back, your eyes glistening but firm. You stared at the stone floor, not at the door.

“I can’t look at the man who tore my brother from the sky. I can’t see the face of the one who turned dragons into monsters and blood into war.”

Aemond shifted near the doorway, but said nothing.

“Everything began with him,” you whispered. “With his arrogance. With his wrath. With his need to claim victory over a child.”

There was silence, heavy and thick, like smoke pressing against your lungs.

Aemond stepped forward. “You think I do not carry the weight of Lucerys’s death every day? You think I sleep easily knowing what I did? It was not meant to be—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, lifting your head for the first time, your brown eyes blazing with sorrow and fury. “Do not stand there and speak of regret while my brother is bones in the sea and my son is ash in the wind.”

Aemond faltered, just for a moment, his mouth tightening.

You turned away again, facing the fire like it could shield you. “You want forgiveness. You want understanding. But you don’t get to ask that of me. Not when your sword carved a wound into my family that will never heal.”

Aegon stood, moving beside you. His hand rested on your shoulder, grounding you. He looked at Aemond then—his brother, his kin—and for the first time in weeks, his voice held something sharp beneath the grief.

“You should have never been there, Aemond. You were supposed to be my sword, not my firestarter. Look at her,” he motioned to you gently. “Look at what’s left of us.”

Aemond’s eye burned with some emotion too complex to name—remorse, shame, defiance.

“She is my family too,” he said. “I did not come to ask her pardon. I came because I thought she deserved to know that the man who took Jaehaerys’s life will suffer. That justice, at the very least, is within our grasp.”

You stood slowly, your voice quiet, trembling with tightly caged fury. “Justice?” you echoed. “Justice would be turning back time. Justice would be undoing what you did to Luke. What your mother and grandsire did to this realm. What you—all of you—burned in your hunger for a crown.”

“I never wanted it,” Aemond snapped.

“But you never stopped it either,” you said, each word like a brand pressed to skin. “And now you speak of justice while the blood of children—mine and my mother’s—stains the stones beneath our feet.”

Aemond stepped back then, just once.

And it was enough.

You turned to Aegon, your face softening only for him.

“I want to see Jaehaerys avenged,” you said quietly. “But I will not find that peace in a cell or on a blade. I will find it when the realm stops bleeding. When the gods no longer feast on our young. When men like your brother stop pretending their violence was fate.”

You didn’t stay to hear Aemond’s reply. You walked past him without looking, the scent of ash and steel trailing you like a cloak. Your steps were sure now. You didn’t need fire in your lungs or vengeance on your tongue.

You had something sharper.

Truth.

And the weight of all that had been lost. Behind you, the council chamber remained still—just two broken brothers and the memory of everything they’d ruined.

The hearthfire crackled low in the corner of your chambers, casting long shadows across the walls—shadows that looked like dragons, or monsters, or memories. You didn’t know which anymore. You sat in the center of the bed with your legs folded beneath you, a soft woolen blanket clutched tightly in your arms. It was small—barely large enough to cover a toddler. Faded in color now, worn from use. But every thread was familiar. Every stitch had been made by your own hand.

It had taken you weeks to embroider the blanket for Jaehaerys. Tiny stars in silver thread danced along the edges, encircling a golden dragon stitched in the center—just as you had once whispered to your son, You are my little star. My little dragon.

You brought the fabric to your nose and inhaled deeply. His scent was still there. Faint, barely clinging to the threads, but there.

It was lavender soap and sunshine and the warmth of his tiny skin after a nap against your chest. You let out a trembling breath, and then a soft, broken laugh slipped from your lips.

You smiled.

For a moment, it felt like you were holding him again.

And then the moment passed.

Your chest tightened. Your heart clenched so violently it knocked the air from your lungs. The smile faded as your throat caught, and then your shoulders began to shake.

You curled tighter around the blanket.

“I held you,” you whispered, voice shaking as you rocked gently. “I held you as you were born… and I held you again as you—”

You couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t say the word. Died. It tasted like blood and iron and grief on your tongue.

Your arms loosened as the sob slipped from your lips, quiet and sharp.

You knew where Aegon was—down in the black cells. You hadn’t spoken a word when he left. His hand had lingered on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours. But there had been nothing left to give him. Not in that moment. Only silence. And your son’s blanket.

He had gone to face the man who’d taken your baby’s life.

But you… you could not face the world.

You pressed your palm to your lower stomach, gently stroking the place where you had once felt life flutter. Jaehaerys had kicked there. He had hiccupped there. He had grown in your womb like a flame.

And now…

A sharp twist clawed through your belly. So sudden, so vicious it knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped, your body lurching forward.

Your fingers clutched at the sheets as the pain lanced through you, deep and low. You tried to move, tried to rise—but your knees buckled beneath you before your feet even touched the floor. You collapsed sideways on the bed, one arm tangled in the blanket, the other pressing desperately to your stomach.

“No—no, no, no,” you panted, the pain doubling you. “Not now…”

You could barely think. The agony twisted and pulled like a vengeful spirit inside you, wringing every nerve. Your vision blurred. You tried to breathe, but your chest was tight with something worse than pain—terror.

Had grief broken you that deeply? Had loss hollowed you so fully that your body was now unraveling from the inside out?

You moaned, biting your lip to keep from screaming. You didn’t want the guards to hear. You didn’t want the maids or the servants or the court to see you like this.

You just wanted Aegon.

Your hand scrambled across the bed, reaching for anything—blankets, pillows—something to anchor you. Your fingers found the soft cloth again, the one with stars and the golden dragon.

You clutched it to your chest like it could save you. And then, through the fog of pain, you felt something. Something warm trickling down your thigh.

Your eyes widened. You looked down—and the dread that washed over you was cold, like seawater stealing the last embers of a fire.

Blood.

Not much. But enough.

You choked out a sound that wasn’t quite a sob. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was all sobs now. Maybe that was all you would ever be—a woman made of cries and ashes.

The door was too far.

Aegon was too far.

And you… you were crumbling.

Not from a sword or a war.

But from the ache that only mothers could know.

Still, even as the pain swallowed you whole, you did not let go of the blanket. Your fingers curled tighter around the scent of your son. Your dragon. Your little star. If this was death coming for you, it would have to pry it from your hands.

The corridors were silent as Aegon walked them, save for the fading echo of his boots across stone. He was numb.

The black cells had given him no satisfaction. No vengeance. Only the stench of rot and the hollow sound of a man begging for mercy that Jaehaerys had never been granted.

The crown on his head felt heavier than ever, like it had fused to his skull. He didn’t remember when he’d last eaten. He didn’t care. His hands were still smeared with dirt from gripping the iron bars too tightly, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. There was only one place he wanted to be now.

With you.

He reached your shared chambers and paused briefly before opening the door—bracing himself for your silence, for your back turned to him again, for the distance between you both that grief had carved like a canyon.

But when the door opened—

He froze.

The blood drained from his face.

You were on the floor. On your knees.

Your nightgown was soaked in blood from the waist down, the dark stain spreading fast across the silk. Your hands were pressed between your thighs, trembling as you clutched at yourself, and your face—gods, your face—was contorted in pain so raw, so violent it turned his bones to ice.

You didn’t even look at him. You just groaned, your voice low and ragged, like something was ripping you apart from the inside.

“No,” Aegon whispered, then louder—sharper. “NO.”

He bolted across the chamber, nearly slipping on the rug as he dropped to his knees beside you.

“Guards!” he bellowed, voice breaking with panic. “Get the maester—NOW! MOVE!”

You whimpered, your head lolling toward him as tears streaked your cheeks.

“Aegon,” you croaked. “I—it hurts—I can’t—”

“I know, I know,” he rasped, cradling you into his arms with a gentleness that defied the tremble in his hands. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, love. You’re safe. Just breathe, alright? Just—just breathe.”

But how could you breathe with your body betraying you like this?

You writhed against him, crying out again, your fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. Blood soaked into his lap as he held you, thick and hot and terrifyingly real. His mind raced—was this a miscarriage? Had he not known? Were you pregnant again after Jaehaerys?

Had the gods given him another child… only to tear it away again?

His throat closed. He pressed a shaking kiss to your temple.

“Stay with me,” he begged in a whisper. “Don’t—don’t leave me too. Please.”

You whimpered again, collapsing into his chest. “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I didn’t know—I didn’t even know—”

“Shhh, no.” He cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him through your haze. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare apologize. This is not your fault.”

The door burst open again, and he shouted over his shoulder, “Maester! She’s bleeding! Get over here, now!”

The elderly man rushed in with his apprentice and a flurry of linen and herbs. But Aegon wouldn’t let go of you.

Not until the maester forced him to.

“Your Grace, please—she needs to be laid down—”

“I said I’m not letting her go!” he snapped, eyes wild, voice cracking.

“Then help me,” the maester said firmly. “We may still save her.”

Those words snapped Aegon into motion. He helped lift you onto the bed, whispering soothing things even as you screamed again, your body arching from another wrenching spasm. The blood kept coming. The pain did not relent. And your eyes—

They found his. Desperate. Distant. Frightened.

“Don’t go,” you gasped. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never,” he swore. “Never, do you hear me?”

He sat at your side, gripping your hand so tightly his knuckles whitened, his other hand stroking your hair back from your damp forehead as the maester worked below the sheets, murmuring instructions and prayers.

The minutes passed like lifetimes.

You faded in and out, whimpering his name between cries of agony. He didn’t dare move. Didn’t breathe unless you did.

The worst kind of helplessness crawled beneath his skin. He was the king. He commanded armies. He held the lives of lords in his palm. And yet here—here, watching the only thing that mattered to him scream in pain—he was useless.

Useless and broken.

The chamber was dim, the fire in the hearth reduced to a low, wavering glow that painted the stone walls in the color of dying embers. The smell of herbs and blood still lingered in the air, clinging to everything like a shroud.

You didn’t speak.

You couldn’t.

You just lay there, in the cradle of Aegon’s arms, your face pressed into the hollow of his chest, and wept.

The sound was low at first—shaky, broken gasps that caught in your throat like glass. But then they deepened, became guttural, as though your soul had been carved open and all it could do now was ache.

And Aegon… said nothing.

He simply held you.

One hand curved protectively around the back of your head, stroking your hair in slow, aimless motions—like he might soothe the storm if only he kept his hand moving, if only he could pretend hard enough that he had the power to keep you from shattering completely.

His other arm circled you tightly, pulling your trembling body closer to his chest until you were clinging to him like a lifeline. Your fists curled in the fabric of his tunic, knuckles white, your nails digging in, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t move.

The only part of him that did was his jaw, clenched so tight it ached.

And his eyes—closed now—because he couldn’t bear to see you this way.

The maester’s words still echoed in his skull like a curse: The babe did not survive.

It should’ve been another whisper in the whirlwind of this war. Another quiet death among too many. But it wasn’t. This wasn’t a piece in the game. This wasn’t strategy. This wasn’t duty.

This was you. His wife. The only person left who touched the parts of him that were still human.

And that babe—

That had been the flicker of hope. The thing you both hadn’t dared to speak aloud after Jaehaerys. The balm that might’ve softened the open wound in your chests. Something small and warm and yours. Something that wasn’t built of blood and betrayal.

Now gone.

A future unmade in silence, in blood, on the cold stone floor of your chambers.

Your cries twisted into something smaller now—hiccuping gasps, hoarse whimpers, the sound of someone trying to breathe through grief that refused to loosen its grip.

You pulled back for just a moment, and Aegon looked down, eyes red-rimmed, haunted.

Your face was streaked with tears, lips parted as though you wanted to speak—but no words came. Only a soft, trembling shake of your head before you buried your face into his neck again, another wave of sobs wracking through you.

“I know,” he whispered finally, his voice low and ruined. “I know, love.” It was all he could say. Because there were no words that could unmake what had happened.

No king’s decree could call your baby back.

No dragonfire could burn the pain away.

Aegon held you tighter.

And for the first time in weeks, he let his own tears fall—silent and steady, slipping down his cheeks and into your hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“We should’ve had peace,” he murmured, not sure if you could hear him, not sure if he was speaking to the gods or cursing them. “We should’ve had a life. A family.”

His hand kept moving, slow and reverent. He didn’t move even when your sobs quieted into nothing, when sleep finally took you from exhaustion, from pain.

He just held you there, with his arms locked around the one thing he still had and prayed the gods wouldn’t take you too.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting amber shadows on the walls, but the warmth didn’t reach you. It couldn’t. Not when your insides had frozen over with grief.

You sat curled in on yourself, knees tucked tight against your chest, your arms wrapped around your shins like armor, your forehead resting lightly on your kneecaps. The clean nightgown clung to you loosely, the scent of the bathwater—lavender and lemon—already fading. You didn’t feel clean. You felt hollow.

Behind you, the chamber was quiet save for the soft rustle of silk and the hesitant approach of footsteps.

“Sweetling…” Aegon’s voice was barely above a whisper, thick with helplessness. “Please… talk to me.”

You didn’t move. Your eyes remained locked on the flames, as if there was something there you could decode—some hidden meaning in the dance of embers, some sign that might make sense of all this pain.

He stepped closer. “I can’t fix this. But I need you to let me try—”

You flinched when you felt his hand. Not because it startled you, but because it hurt—the gentleness of it. His fingers slid carefully through your hair, brushing it back from your face. He crouched behind you, resting on his knees. He was always taller, stronger, the dragon who carried fire in his blood… but right now, he seemed so small behind you. So unsure.

You said nothing. Just let him stroke your hair as your lips moved with a whisper that grew heavier with each repetition.

“The gods are cruel…” you murmured. “So cruel.”

Aegon exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead to the back of your shoulder. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Your voice cracked, your eyes never leaving the fire. “They don’t punish you. They punish me. They take my children. Our children. Over and over and over again.”

“I lost them too,” he whispered, and the pain in his voice made your spine stiffen. “I lost them with you. Every time.”

“But I carried them,” you whispered, and your voice caught. “I felt their hearts. I held them inside me. I gave them names in my sleep. I dreamed of what they’d look like—if they’d have my eyes or yours. I sang to them when you weren’t there.”

You turned your head just slightly, your profile catching the firelight. The tears had started again, sliding down your cheeks silently now, no longer wild or loud. Just endless.

“And what did I get for it?” Your voice shook. “Jaehaerys… murdered in his own bed. Our babe gone before they could take a breath.”

Aegon didn’t speak. He just rested his palm against your back, rubbing slow circles as if he could soothe the wound beneath your skin.

You inhaled shakily, your voice so soft now, it barely survived the air.

“This is my punishment.”

His hand paused.

You blinked, still not looking at him. “For choosing you. For choosing you over my mother.”

“Don’t,” he said quickly, voice rising. “Don’t you say that.”

“She warned me,” you went on, like in a trance. “She said loving you would destroy me. That war would follow you, pain would follow you. And I didn’t care. I chose you. I married you. I stood by you.” You finally turned your head toward him, your eyes bloodshot and wet. “And now… my children are dead. One by one, stripped from my arms.”

He looked like he’d been stabbed. “You think I don’t carry that guilt every time I look at you? That I don’t wonder if you would’ve been safer without me?”

You swallowed hard, your voice breaking again. “Maybe I would have.”

Aegon’s hand dropped from your back. He sat down beside you slowly, legs folding beneath him. The fire danced between your bodies, painting both of you in gold and shadow. You stared at each other in silence for a long moment—broken, tired, grieving in different ways.

“I know you hate me right now,” he said finally, his voice tight, like he was forcing it out past a wall in his throat. “And maybe you should. Maybe I deserve it. But gods be damned, I love you. I love you so much it hurts. And if I could take this pain from you—if I could give my own blood to bring him back—I would.”

You dropped your head again, your forehead brushing your knees. “I just want to be a mother again,” you whispered. “I want to hold my child. I want to feel life in my arms, not death.”

He reached out again, pulling you into his arms this time. The gesture was quiet, small… and yet full of the weight of a man who was watching the woman he loved drown.

You didn’t speak again, and neither did he. You simply melted into his arms in front of the fire, surrounded by the warmth you couldn’t feel, and the ghosts you couldn’t escape.

The scent of lemon cake still lingered in the corners of the chamber. You hadn’t touched it.

Aegon had left it for you on the small side table three days ago, a quiet offering, accompanied by a soft kiss to your temple and a promise you hadn’t answered. It had been your favorite once. Now, the sight of it only twisted your stomach into knots.

You hadn’t spoken more than a few words since the babe died. The pain clung to your skin like ash—so heavy, so absolute, it felt like you’d been buried with your child.

You hadn’t left the bed, either. The silken covers had long since twisted around your limbs, heavy and wrinkled with the days you’d spent curled in their cocoon. The hearth had gone cold, the fire long since died. You hadn’t asked anyone to tend it. What was the point?

Grief did not need warmth.

Your eyes were half-lidded, dry and red-rimmed, when the familiar creak of the chamber doors caught your attention. You didn’t look right away.

You expected the maid. Or perhaps Aegon again—come to coax, to plead, to wrap his arms around you and whisper that he was still here, even as you drifted further from everything.

But then—small footsteps.

You turned your head.

And the moment you saw them, your breath caught like a dagger in your throat.

Aegon stood in the doorway, his hand resting gently on the shoulder of your little daughter, and cradled in the other arm was your youngest—Maelor, still small enough to be carried.

But it was Jaehaera who shattered you. The soft golden hair. The pale, thoughtful face. The shape of her nose, the curve of her lips—so much like her twin brother.

So much like Jaehaerys.

Your body tensed, your arms shaking where they gripped the edge of the blankets, and your eyes stung before the tears even came. But they did come.

Not like before—not silent, not restrained. These tears broke through like a storm, sudden and unstoppable. You pressed a hand over your mouth as your shoulders crumpled forward. A sob tore from your throat.

Jaehaera stared at you, wide-eyed, not quite understanding why her presence had sparked such pain. She looked up at Aegon, confused, but said nothing—just held the small wooden doll in her hand tighter, as if for comfort.

You barely noticed Aegon’s steps as he crossed the room. Only when he knelt beside the bed and placed Maelor gently in the crook of your arm did your breath hitch again.

You turned your face away, overwhelmed, but then Jaehaera’s small hand touched your wrist.

“Mother?” Her voice was quiet. “Are you sad because my brother is with the gods?”

Your throat closed. You couldn’t speak.

You nodded, a slow, shuddering movement.

Jaehaera crawled up beside you carefully, climbing into the bed without hesitation. She tucked herself under your arm and laid her head on your chest.

“I’m sad too,” she whispered. “But Maelor still laughs when I tickle him. And I still remember when Jaehaerys told me stories about dragons flying backwards just to make me laugh. So maybe that means he’s not all gone. Maybe he’s still in the stories.”

That did it.

The sob that came out of you wasn’t just pain—it was a letting go, a surrender to everything you’d been trying to hold back. You held both your children tightly to your chest, one in each arm, and buried your face in Jaehaera’s soft hair.

Aegon sat on the edge of the bed beside you, not saying a word. But his hand covered yours, grounding you, as your grief spilled out in waves.

Your fingers clung to Jaehaera’s nightgown, the fabric soft and worn. You pressed a kiss to the top of Maelor’s head, his tiny hand patting your arm as though he, too, knew you needed to be brought back.

And for the first time since your womb had gone quiet, you felt something else break through the ache.

Not peace.

But presence.

The pieces of your heart that still remained—fragile, bruised, and alive—curled up in your arms. And for now, they were enough.

The chamber, once dim and heavy with mourning, now glowed soft with the orange flicker of candlelight. The hearth had been rekindled, its warmth reaching out in golden threads across the stone floor, weaving through your limbs, curling around your fingers.

You were still in bed, propped against the headboard with pillows stacked behind you, your hair loose, your gown wrinkled. But today—tonight—there was a softness on your face that hadn’t been there in weeks. Not a full peace. But something like… a pause in the sorrow. A breath of stillness.

Maelor was curled in your lap, warm and heavy against your stomach, his little legs splayed carelessly over the folds of your blanket. You had one hand around his back, supporting him, while your other arm held Jaehaera tucked beneath it. She was gently brushing the edge of your sleeve with her fingertips, lost in some private world of thought and comfort.

Maelor looked up at you, eyes wide and bright, those chubby cheeks pink with firelight. He babbled something incoherent—a string of sounds only a mother could recognize as a question. You blinked at him and tilted your head playfully.

“What is it, my sweet boy?”

He stared at your mouth like it held some grand secret. Then, with the solemn focus only a toddler could muster, he raised his tiny hands—soft, still sticky from honeyed bread—and cupped your face.

You barely had time to react before his thumb pressed into your cheek and his other hand reached down and grabbed your lower lip between two fingers.

It wasn’t painful—just surprising. The sudden tug made your mouth part in shock, and a small puff of laughter escaped you.

“Maelor!” you gasped through a breathless laugh.

Aegon, seated at the foot of the bed now, let out a playful huff, leaning back on his hands. “Gods,” he said with a smirk. “He’s already got your mouth. Now he’s claiming it.”

Your laughter grew, the sound light and trembling, like a song you hadn’t sung in far too long.

Jaehaera squealed with laughter beside you, her arms wrapping tighter around your waist as she buried her face against your side. “He always pulls mine too, mama!” she giggled. “He’s a silly dragon.”

“Silly indeed,” you murmured fondly, as Maelor, apparently satisfied with your lip, released it and let out a triumphant coo. Then, just as suddenly, he dropped forward and nuzzled into your neck, his little nose smushing into your skin, warm and soft and so achingly present.

Your breath hitched.

It wasn’t the sadness this time.

It was the ache of feeling, of realizing how much you’d missed this—how long you’d been drowning beneath the weight of your loss, barely able to register the blessings that still clung to you like lifelines.

Your arms wrapped more tightly around them both—your daughter and your son, your little lights in the long night—and you glanced toward Aegon.

He was watching you, his eyes softer now, the playful smile dimmed into something reverent.

Something aching.

“I missed you,” he said quietly. “We missed you.”

You swallowed, the knot in your throat tight but not suffocating. You leaned your cheek against Maelor’s curls, inhaling the faint scent of milk and lemons and the clean linen of his sleep tunic.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I was trying to hold it together… but I forgot how to reach for anything else.”

Aegon shifted closer, reaching out to touch your knee gently. “You don’t need to hold it together,” he murmured. “Not here. Not with us. You just need to be. Let them carry the rest.”

You looked at him, tears shining in your lashes, and nodded.

For a moment, the four of you were wrapped in something sacred—flawed, fraying, but still holy in its own quiet way.

Your son tugged your lip again, giggling now, proud of his new trick. Jaehaera shrieked with laughter, her head thrown back against your chest.

And you—you laughed too.

Real, full, and trembling.

Aegon closed his eyes as the sound filled the chamber, and when he opened them again, his gaze rested not on the shadows of your pain, but on the living proof of everything you still were.

Still whole.

Still mother.

Still here.

©2025 hisfavegirl. No part of this story may be copied, stored, transmitted, or shared in other apps.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ceoofglytchell @ashblooddragons @hayleythecannibal @laedeviour @venusbyline

[ceoofglytchell]

To Yearn Is But To Know The Ache

Summary: Ever since his childhood, Aegon knows you to be reliable. You are his maid and you have helped him hide his love affairs for as long as he can remember. You are always there, until one day you aren’t anymore.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Maid!Reader

Word count: 5177 words

Warnings: no description for the reader except she’s female, longing, yearning, infidelity, brief abuse from alicent, forbidden love, friends to lovers, soft!miserable!aegon, bittersweet ending, open ending, no mention of Y/N

Notes: This is based on this request. I hope you like it, even though I changed some things about the ending. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

The first time you helped him hide his love affairs was when he was fifteen.

You, a young maid of the castle, personally dedicated to him because you were his age, came unannounced to his room one morning, believing he was still asleep.

Instead, you found him in bed with a woman considerably older than him. She was naked, and so was he.

You had accidentally dropped the tray containing his wine and breakfast, and the loud sound of a plate breaking on the hard stone floor of the castle had immediately jolted him and the whore awake.

His eyes had widened when he saw you standing in the doorway, so confused and innocent.

"Apologies, I—I did not mean to disturb you," you stammered uncertainly, already stumbling back a step.

"No, stop, wait!" the young prince quickly called after you, while the woman was already getting up, putting on her thin dress, and counting the gold coins the prince had drunkenly pressed into her hand the night before.

You stood there, confused, looking down at the floor with flushed cheeks, as he was still naked and you could see almost everything of him.

"I—" he began, but then stopped again. What could he possibly say in this situation? You saw it.

"She has to get out of here," he finally said pleadingly.

You stood in the doorway for another moment, wiping your clammy hands on your already dirty apron. He did not want to know how much work you had already had to do while he was still lying in bed, sleeping peacefully next to the woman who had taken his virginity the night before. It was the first time he had ever slept with a woman.

The prince's gaze was pleading, and you could not help but quickly rush to the chest where the laundry was kept. You pressed several dirty sheets into the woman's hands before heading straight to His Grace‘s wardrobe.

You pulled out a rather unassuming brown cloak and draped it over the woman's shoulders, concealing the thinness of her dress. The front was concealed by the amount of linen she was carrying.

Aegon admired, wide-eyed, how quickly you acted and how quickly you seemed to know what to do.

It was still clear that this woman did not belong to the castle, but since it was early morning, you simply hoped that the people milling around would not pay any special attention to the two of you.

No one paid any attention to the servants.

"You follow me, keep your head down, and do not say a word, understand?" you asked the strange woman, who was almost two heads taller than you.

She scoffed: "Why should anyone listen to you, little one? It seems to me you only recently started working here if you think this will actually work."

Your gaze lowered again, but Aegon sat up in his bed, the sheets wrapped around his waist so his lower half would be covered.

"And you are a whore I paid to follow me into my chambers. She is in my service. You will listen to her and you will ask no questions," he commanded in a firm voice he hardly recognized himself as using.

The woman bowed slightly. "Of course, my prince."

A small smile played at the corners of your mouth, and you curtsied as well. "Thank you, my prince."

With these words, you finally turned around and hurried out of the chambers with the woman in tow, hoping you would not be approached.

And you were lucky.

No one noticed you smuggling the prince's whore out of his chambers.

They did not notice the second time, nor the third, nor the fourth. The fifth time, you thought you were invisible, because how could it be that no one noticed the two giggling ladies who were still drunkenly following you around before you released them onto one of the secret passageways?

The years passed, and you continued to serve the eldest prince. You brought him breakfast and wine, laid out his clothes, made his bed, and smuggled the women he paid to sleep with him out of the castle.

It made him happy, and you enjoyed his gratitude.

However, something also changed as time passed.

You were no longer just his maid, but also his friend. The only one he had.

You were like the only shining star in a dark night sky. Like the single ray of moonlight that fell through the clouds at night.

He was your prince. The man to whom you were subordinate and to whom you had to show obedience, otherwise you would lose your work. You truly liked him, with all your heart and soul, but you knew you could not allow yourself to dream. You were merely a servant, and if you were gone, he would probably simply replace you.

A knock on the wooden door to your small chamber awoke you, still in bed, startled because for a moment you thought you had accidentally overslept and left your prince waiting.

But to your surprise, it was still the middle of the night.

Sleepily, still wearing only your thin nightgown, your hair loose and messy, you trudged to the door and opened it, only to find Aegon standing before you, a grin on his lips.

"Good morning, my little mouse," he greeted you in a mischievous tone. The one you knew all too well.

You were both grown up by now. He was married with two children, and you were still his favorite handmaiden. His only friend and the only person he trusted wholeheartedly.

"My prince? It is the middle of the night," you said sleepily, even stifling a yawn.

"True, yes. And please, call me Aegon. I have been telling you that for years," he replied with a sigh as he leaned against the doorframe, his amethyst-colored eyes looking you up and down.

He so rarely saw you without your uniform. He thought you were much prettier without it.

"And I keep telling you that I cannot."

A theatrical sigh escaped him and he hung his head. Why did you have to be so stubborn?

"Why not? We are alone right now, are we not?" he asked you, shaking his head, which made his already uncombed strands of hair even more tangled.

"That is true, but someone could come by at any time, and if they hear me call you by name, I risk losing my job," you explained seriously, folding your arms across your chest.

"But no one is coming right now!" the prince argued.

Now you were the one who sighed. "Why are you here, Aegon?"

When he heard his name roll off your tongue, he immediately looked back up at you, his eyes shining as if you had just breathed new life into them.

"I came because I wanted to ask you, my dear, if you would accompany me to the city?"

You looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"Are you mad?" you asked him, your eyes widening, your fingers tightening on the handle of your door. You could slam the door in his face at any time, because you knew he would not report it. He needed you so you could hide all his affairs.

But you did not know that he did not need you just for that. He needed you like a flower needs the sun.

"Possibly," he replied with a chuckle. "So, what is your answer?"

"No!" you said immediately, perhaps a little louder than necessary.

"Shhh, little mouse, not so loud," he quickly countered, placing a hand over your mouth, which you quickly removed.

"Do not call me that," you said quickly, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.

"What? You mean mouse? But that is what you are. My quiet little mouse," he replied instead, a smile forming on his lips and a playful gleam in his eyes.

"You are awful," you said instead, which made him chuckle in turn.

"So is that a yes or a no?" he asked again, leaning a little closer, causing your breathing to quicken.

"A no," you answered, and he nodded.

He had known you would not come with him. You would not make it that easy.

"Are you sure?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

Oh, you hated that grin.

"Go away, you fool," you giggled, closing the door with rosy cheeks.

The prince sighed, turned, and disappeared into the entrance to the secret passages known to few in the castle.

He hoped he would be able to show them to you thoroughly one day.

The next time Prince Aegon knocked on your door in the middle of the night, it was neither quiet nor discreet. It was panicked and loud, and you jumped out of bed the moment you heard it.

You rushed to the door, your nightgown wrinkled and not quite right in places, and your hair a disaster, and opened it, and what you saw broke your heart.

Aegon stood at your door, tears streaming down his porcelain cheeks like waterfalls and a fear in his eyes that made you tremble.

"My prince?" you asked cautiously, and just as you were about to lean toward him and place a gentle hand on his arm, he practically threw himself into your arms.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist as if you were the only thing keeping him alive.

You were overwhelmed. What was happening?

"Please, please, I do not want to—I cannot—" he cried desperately.

Your hands wandered into your hair and you tried to calm him by running your fingers through his mane.

"What do you not want, my prince?" you asked him in a gentle voice, even though you were more confused than ever.

"I do not want to be king, please, please—I cannot," he sobbed, his whole body shaking.

His crying grew louder, and you took slow steps backward, pulling him with you, until you were finally able to close the door and you stood alone with him in your dark, small room.

He had only been in here once or twice before, but he would stay here forever if it meant he would not have to wear the crown.

"What happened?"

He did not answer, just shook his head and watered your thin nightgown with his desperate tears. Meanwhile, he held on tight. The warmth of your body mingled with his and your scent filled his nostrils.

You were so warm and soft and all he wanted was to lose himself in you.

"Aegon?" you begged as you began to stroke his back tenderly, choosing to call him by his name this time.

Another sob escaped him before he finally managed to take a deep breath: "My father is dead."

Your eyes widened and his shoulders tensed, your hands no longer roaming his back.

You were holding the soon-to-be King of the Seven Kingdoms in your arms. You. A simple servant.

Since the moment the queen chose you as his maid, since the moment you first helped him hide his love affairs, you were his friend.

A good friend. Probably his only one.

And, by the gods, he needed you. When you were not there to brighten his days, he did not know what to do.

"They will crown me king, but I... I do not want that," he whimpered through tears that still wet his cheeks and made his face shine in the soft moonlight.

You nodded understandingly, because you have had this conversation before. The last time a few weeks ago, the first time three years ago.

"I want to be free, I want to live my life," he finally said, leaning back slowly so he could look into your eyes.

Your beautiful eyes, in which he could lose himself day after day and which he dreamed of at night. Over and over again, as if he were cursed.

But even if you were a witch, he would still run after you. Even if you had him under a curse, he would still come back to you again and again.

"Why are you here?" you asked him gently, tilting your head. You probably understood him better than anyone else, but you did not know why he had come to you tonight.

Deep down, you probably did know, but you did not want to admit it.

"I need help. I want to get away from here. I want to live a different life somewhere, a better one, and I wanted to ask you for help."

You shook your head, but he was not finished.

"Help me escape, darling."

"No, I—" you immediately tried to contradict him, but he was once again faster than you.

"Please, I beg you. I need to get out of here. This life… it is killing me."

"But your family?" you asked him cautiously. He would miss his mother, his brother, and his sister-wife, not to mention his little twins, whom you thought were so adorable.

Sometimes, when he was playing alone with them, he would ask you to come over. He was always happy with them, and you had never seen him smile so radiantly as the time little Jaehaerys wanted to be held by you.

"Mother will be furious, Aemond probably even happy, and Helaena... she will be better off without me. She deserves rest," he explained, a small, rueful smile creeping onto his lips. It held no humor at all.

"And your children?" you asked him, tenderly taking his hand in yours.

A year ago, you would never have taken his hand just like that, but, like everything in the world, it developed slowly.

Like the sun slowly rising over a hill. Only yours had not risen yet, but was just peeking over the hill.

"I love them. They are everything to me, but my sister is a wonderful mother. She can handle it," he said with a nod, and it almost seemed as if he would want to convince himself.

"Aegon—" you tried again, but he interrupted you again.

"Please," he begged. "I am desperate. I am afraid."

Another single tear rolled down his cheek, and in that moment you knew you would do anything he said.

Not because you had to, because he was your prince, but because you wanted to.

Because he was your friend.

You let go of him and hurried to your wardrobe. You pulled out two cloaks. A brown one for you so you could accompany him to one of the exits, and a light blue one for him so he could hide his silver hair under a hood out there.

He took it and wrapped it around his shoulders, buttoning up the cloak, and pulled the hood over his head while you did the same.

Silver strands of hair stood out, and a gentle smile spread across your lips.

You walked over to him and carefully tucked the strands into his hood, so that it would not be obvious that he was a Targaryen at first glance.

He smiled, and you smiled back.

And for a moment, Aegon's world made sense again.

"Come with me," the prince suggested as you stood together before one of the many entrances to the secret passages.

He held out a hand, one foot in the doorway and the other in the hallway where you still stood, your cloak wrapped tightly around your narrow shoulders. The expression on his handsome face was hopeful, and his eyes shone.

"I do not think that is possible," you sighed, clasping your hands together.

"Why?" he asked, always persistent.

"I work here. This is my life," you said, because that was what you truly believed. You did not consider that he could give you a new life. One by his side.

A shadow fell over his face, but still he nodded and took another step into the dark corridor.

"Good luck, Aegon," you said in a tender, loving voice.

"Good luck, little mouse," he replied, and you closed the door.

Aegon straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath before turning and running.

He did not hear one of the guards suddenly grab your arm, how you argued, how you pleaded.

He ran and you cried.

They found him drunk under the altar of the Mother in the Great Sept.

The White Worm had promised to hide him, but instead, Arryk and Erryk found him, followed by Ser Criston and Aemond.

He begged Aemond to let him go, to let him find a ship so he could sail away, but instead, they dragged him back to the castle against his will.

His mother had been disappointed; she hit him, told him he should eat something, and that a servant would be here shortly to help him wash and dress for his coronation ceremony.

The door to his chambers opened, and he did not even turn around. He was used to this. He knew you would probably come now, put a hand on his shoulder, and tell him everything would be all right.

But none of that happened.

"How would you like your bath, Your Grace?" a strange voice asked him.

He immediately turned to the person, his eyebrows furrowing as he realized you were not there.

Another maid stood at the door. Young, pretty, but she was not you.

No one was like you.

"My maid. Where is she?" he asked in the most authoritative tone he could muster.

The servant shook her head and looked down at the floor. "She is gone, Your Grace."

"Gone?" he asked immediately, standing up so quickly that his chair creaked across the floor and the girl jumped.

"Where is she?" he persisted, clenching his hands into fists.

"In the dungeons, Your Grace," the new servant answered him honestly.

"And what in the Seven Hells is my maid doing in the dungeons?" he asked, his voice becoming increasingly harsh.

"She was seen helping you escape. The queen had her banished to the dungeons as punishment."

Aegon could not believe what his ears were hearing. You, his little mouse, the light of his life, were rotting like a common criminal down there in that dark, cold, rat-infested hole, all because you helped him escape, which, to his dismay, ultimately failed.

"What?" His voice was quiet, full of disbelief, and his breath was coming in short gasps.

You did not deserve this.

You deserved all the happiness in the world, and now you were locked up.

Because of him.

"Your bath?" the girl reminded him, and he nodded, but his mind was far away.

He thought of you and of how disappointed you must be for him. How frightened you must have been right now.

His coronation had been a complete disaster. For the first time in his life, he felt seen and loved by people, and then suddenly a dragon emerged from the ground and almost killed him and his entire family.

He now stood alone and lost in his new chambers—his father's. The stench of the Milk of the Poppy still polluted the air, and the large model of Old Valyria, which his father had spent years building instead of playing with him or his siblings, still stood proudly in the center of the room.

The Conqueror's Crown heavy on his head.

He hated it. He hated everything about it.

But most of all, he hated that he could not help you.

In the carriage, he had asked his mother what her plan was for you. She said that the dungeon was a just punishment for treason against the crown. She had not listened to reason. He had tried so hard.

Suddenly, an idea came to him. He was the king. His word was law. He could do whatever he wanted.

Without thinking about anything, he hurried out of his father's chambers and headed toward the dungeons. Ser Arryk shouted something in his direction, but he did not hear.

He simply wanted to see you.

The dungeon was cold, wet, and dark, and your cell was no exception. You huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around your knees, which you held against your chest to give yourself some warmth and comfort.

You had been stripped of your handmaid's clothing, so you sat there in only your thin undergarment, which was now soiled.

You were told that the dungeon was only a temporary punishment and that Lord Larys Strong was still thinking about what to do with you.

Perhaps he would cut out your tongue? Have you whipped? Deny you food and drink so that you would wither like a flower? All of these things were possible, and you believed the man was capable of all of them.

He was frightening.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps in the distance, and you were already worried that your punishment awaited you. It would probably be even harsher than you could have imagined.

You had only wanted to help Aegon, and yet in the end, it had not achieved anything. Yet in the end, he had been crowned.

Your sacrifice had achieved absolutely nothing.

"Darling?" you suddenly heard a worried voice speak, and your eyes immediately widened.

"Aegon..." you whispered in disbelief.

He stood outside your cell, his hands clasped around the iron bars and the crown on his head. He looked beautiful, regal. But also sad.

"This is my fault," he said, shaking his head, causing a few strands of his silver hair to fall across his forehead.

"No," you replied immediately, sitting up slightly so that the light from the torches in the corridor cast shadows across your face. "You could not have known. I did not even know myself until the guards grabbed me."

Aegon let his forehead sink against the iron bars. "You should have come with me."

A soft laugh escaped you and you nodded. "Perhaps I should have, yes."

"We could have escaped together. We would probably be across the Narrow Sea by now. Imagine it. The two of us together in Essos or Yi Ti."

For a moment, you allowed yourself to dream. You imagined you two sailing across the sea together on a ship, reaching the shore of a city, finding a home, and starting a new life.

Together.

You rose from the dirty ground and walked slowly toward your prince—your king. His gaze softened, and you could see that he longed to hold you in his arms.

"What would we have been?" you asked him cautiously, and you too wrapped your hands around the cold bars of your cell. Your little finger almost touched his.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "What would you have wanted us to be?"

For a moment, you fought the urge to roll your eyes, but he was still the king. You had to show him respect, even if you were behind bars.

"We would have been friends... and maybe one day more than that," you confessed honestly.

He placed his little finger on yours, and you could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks. Blush. You blushed for him.

"I can imagine. We could have had a drink together one evening in a tavern or maybe a brothel—"

"I would not have gone to a brothel with you," you replied quickly, raising an eyebrow playfully. You knew of his lascivious nature and you would not have stopped him, but you certainly would not have gone to such a place with him.

"Fine, then to a tavern," he sighed. "We would have drunk wine together, and at one point I would have taken your hand. Of course, you would not have been able to resist my charms."

You just shook your head again and continued listening to him detail his fantasy.

"I would have leaned toward you, very slowly."

You had to swallow the lump in your throat as you pictured it in detail: "I would have put a finger on your lips and told you you were an idiot."

He laughed, and you saw that it came from his heart. For the first time since he came to you, his eyes sparkled again, and your heart leaped.

"I would have taken your hand and pressed a kiss to your fingers and told you you were the most annoying, beautiful woman in the world."

You leaned your head next to his and could feel your heart shattering into a thousand pieces. If only you had come with him. If only you had fled together.

"I am so sorry, Aegon," you said softly, but you meant it.

"Do not apologize to me, sweetling. Apparently this life was not meant for us," he said, turning so he could press a gentle kiss to your temple. He had never kissed you before, and he could only dream of what your lips would feel like.

"Aegon, I—"

Before you could utter the words that had been burning in your soul for years, a sudden clearing of the throat sounded not far from the two of you.

The king turned and stood across from Lord Larys Strong, the lord of Harrenhal. The man leaned on his crutch and regarded you with a knowing gaze. A shiver ran down your spine, and Aegon was not sure how to speak to him.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I came to speak with the prisoner," Larys said calmly.

Aegon had to bite back a scathing comment that would have insulted the man: "And I came to restore her to her previous role as a handmaiden."

Larys stepped closer to you, the echo of his heavy foot on the dungeon floor making it hard for you to breathe. "My king, she committed treason by helping you escape in the night."

"But I am back. I am the king. I decide the fate of my prisoners," he replied to the older man, who smiled in a way that made him instinctively stand up straighter.

"Just imagine the image this decision would paint. It could give villains the courage to break into the castle without fear of punishment. Servants might reconsider their loyalties. Do you really want to be seen as weak?" Lord Larys asked him in the same calm voice as before.

"No, certainly not," said the king. He needed you around him and he could not bear to see you in this cell, but perhaps the castle was no longer a place for you.

Perhaps you finally deserved better than this.

He looked into your eyes—into those beautiful, pure eyes—and he knew he had made a decision, even if you would not ike it.

"Can you be discreet?"

"Very discreet, Your Grace."

"Take her away from here. As far as possible, so she will be safe. She will live in a house, be treated like a lady. She will want for nothing," he said firmly.

Your eyes widened and you grabbed his hand. You could not believe it. You did not want to leave. All you wanted was to stay with him and continue to be his servant.

"No, please—"

"I will have her taken to Essos. I know a place. She will be fine there," Strong assured his king with a nod.

The cell keys jingled loudly as he pulled them from his cloak. You watched as he opened the cell door and placed a hand on your arm. You obeyed without a word and stepped out of the cell.

The cell door slammed shut behind you, and without wasting a second, Aegon wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest.

"I will leave you alone for a moment," the lord said, hobbling a few steps toward the dungeon exit where he would be waiting for you.

Your king's face was buried in your hair, and he held you so tightly it almost hurt. Your arms were also wrapped around him, and all he could think about was that he could not let you go.

You were one of the only things keeping him alive.

"You cannot go. You cannot," he murmured into your curls.

The mere thought that you would not be there to shoo him out of bed in the morning, to choose the right clothes for him, spending hours looking for him and talking to him about everything and nothing was frightening.

He did not want to imagine it.

"He is right, you know? I do not want people to see you as weak. You will be a good king, even without my services," you whispered gently.

You did not want to leave him either. Especially not now, but Lord Strong was right. It might be a way to shed real light on him if he reinstated you as his servant. After all, you committed treason against the crown when you helped him escape.

"I do not know how I am going to manage this."

A smile formed on your lips and you stroked his back. "You have an experienced council that will support you. You just have to lean into them."

The young king shook his head: "I do not know how to act."

"You just did it. You took action, and your decision is good. It is the right one," you answered him calmly and as gently as you could.

He hugged you even tighter. "But it does not feel right."

You leaned back and looked into his eyes, placing a hand on his cheek. His skin was warm and soft, and you wished you had had the courage to talk to him before.

"I love you," you finally said, your words honest and long overdue. You loved him when you were just a young girl and he was still the prince who woke up drunk and in bed with a new woman every day.

You saw the exact moment his eyes filled with tears and he realized he should have dragged you along against your will so you could now be together forever.

"Seven Hells, I love you too. I love you more than anything," he said, leaning his forehead against yours.

Even though you were dirty, cold, and would rather be anywhere but the dungeon, you were happy in his arms.

He leaned down to press his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, but you placed a finger on his lips.

"Kiss me when we meet again," you whispered, and he took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your fingertips instead.

This was not a tavern, and you had not had anything to drink, but the moment was the same one you had talked about.

"I promise you, little mouse."

He watched you leave, and he could practically hear his heart breaking and feel his smile fade.

You had never been happier than you were in Essos, on a small estate as the lady of the house.

And Aegon?

He promised himself that one day he would see you again, so he could finally steal the kiss you had promised him.

Even if he was half-burned and full of shame.

The Divider is from the wonderful @zaldritzosrose !

Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @dahaenatargaryen @sylasthegrim @danytar

[dolicekiss]

Apple Of Their Eye

part one here

PAIRING: Aemond Targayen X sister!reader X Aegon Targayen

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), incest between siblings, virgin aemond, possessive behavior, threats, abuse, slut shaming, mentions of forced marriage, voyeurism, kissing, unprotected sex, polygamy, threesome, mating press, hickeys, usage of high valyrian during sex, aggressive aemond, doggystyle, raw filth, hand job, breeding, impregnating, swearing, territorial targaryen brothers, thigh riding, dry humping.

SYNOPSIS: Whispers have a habit of reaching ears, no matter how far and when a whisper about your rendezvous with your brothers reaches your mother, she loses it. Enraged, she strikes you but when your brothers find out, their wrath is enough to burn cities to the ground.

“Brother, someone might see.” Came a soft whimper from you as your brother continued to litter gentle kisses down your jaw, forming an invisible trail to your neck and already had he decided to kiss your collarbones too. It was embarrassing to engage in such actions in the hallways of the Red keep, knowing you were both at your peril.

Aegon didn't care though. He continued kissing you as if he didn't fuck you a few hours ago in the garden. His needs were insatiable and as much as you enjoyed it when your own brother pummeled his cock into your little cunt, you were always worried about getting caught too.

Your brother only let out a soft hum, his large hands moving to grab a handful of your breasts. Your state was disheveled and when you heard footsteps coming near, echoing in the high walls of the hallway, you gave a push to your brother. The expression on Aegon’s face was of complete displeasure as a servant walked passed you two, her gaze lowered but she didn't fail to notice the messed up state of the Princess.

You looked up at Aegon and as he tried to step closer to you, you decided to run off somewhere, with giggles escaping you. The King almost chased after you, but when he was called for a council meeting — he had to solemnly give up the idea of chasing after you and claiming you.

You ran with the assumption that your brother was behind you.

It didn't end well for you as you ended up crashing into someone else. In the arms of another dragon, more ferocious than the one before.

“Going somewhere, sister?”

Aemond’s soft voice was like fucking sugar to your ears. It was unfathomable how he had to speak once and your cunt would get soaked, especially when he would speak High Valyrian while fucking your mouth.

Unlike Aegon, Aemond still had not fucked you like his older brother. He lacked the time to give you full attention and fulfill your needs, as well as his. But today Aemond had decided to put the realm aside once and give you all his time and attention.

You squeezed your thighs, a feeble attempt to rid yourself of the impending feeling of arousal and need. You smiled at him but the way you looked at him, it was an invitation for him to take you right here in this damn hall, against the Iron Throne. Pupils blown out and plump lips parted, swollen definitely by the hands of Aegon.

Your brother reached to put a strand of silver behind your ear with his glove cladded fingers. “I asked you something, sweet sister and I expect an answer.”

You fucking melted whenever he refer to you as his sweet sister. Before it worked wonders but now, you weren't too sure but you'd grown completely obsessed with your own brothers. Last week the topic of Aemond’s marriage was brought up, same as yours and everyone noticed the sour look on the Princess’ face.

The realm’s delight was pissed, for the first time in awhile.

“I was running from Aegon.” You whispered to him, neck craned up to look at your taller brother.

Aemond smiled. “He won't be chasing you, sweet sister. He has the council to attend to.”

You let out a sigh. “Things were much better when Father was alive. I had all your and Aegon’s attention but now the realm demands it more.”

Your words made Aemond realize how good their lives were when you were all children, under the care of your father, the King. If only his father hadn't changed his mind on his death bed, if only his mother hadn't forced Aegon on the Iron Throne. It was all too overwhelming to think about, even for someone like Aemond and he brushed it all aside, replacing it with the thoughts of you.

“You will have all our attention when we win this war, sister. You will be Queen.” His words brought you ease but deep down the fear of something bad happening to both your brothers always tugged at your heartstrings. It lingered, like a threat and even you were not oblivious to the damage that this war will bring.

The chaos, the destruction, the pain.

It was all to real to ignore it.

Aemond’s hand moved to cup your cheek and you smiled, the worry disappearing from your face.

“Let me give you a kiss to ease your worries.”

You were ready for him, lips in a childish pout and Aemond always chuckled at how desperate you seemed for a kiss. It was lost on him why you'd grown this attached to them, to him — a monster he was. Beneath lurked darkness which he knew would one day swim up to the surface and consume your light. He feared that day and he wished for nothing more than to become better, for the sake of his sweet sister.

He had to bend, that's how short you were in comparison to him. The moment his lips met yours, it was a moment of peace but you did not know the chaos it would soon follow.

That single kiss would change the course of house Targaryen. Challenge years worth of tradition, power and would set a new law, abided by both men and Gods.

Butterflies flapped their wings, similar to dragons in your stomach as your brother firmly took your lips into a kiss. His growing need enough to nearly make him lose all control and take you right then and there on the stairs leading to the throne.

Your lids fell shut as you allowed your brother to kiss you, his head tilting and his fingers digging into the cheek he was holding — a testament to his broken self control. Aemond pulled away soon, to restore some dignity in him and you let out a soft breath.

A string of saliva leaving you connected to your brother's lips.

“I will come to your chambers tonight. You must wear a white gown and wait for me.” His command was strong and firm, leaving no room for disagreement.

You were never going to disagree anyway. Pleasing your brothers was all that mattered to you, especially when they had been nothing but kind to you. You nodded your head causing Aemond’s grip across your chin to tighten. “Use your mouth, gevie.” (Beautiful)

You swore you could feel your cunt beginning to grow more soaked each time your brother uttered even a word in High Valyrian. His was the best and even you grew envious of him at times at how dedicated and good he was. To you, Aemond was the epitome of a Targaryen man.

“Yes, brother.” You said in a breathless whisper, nodding your head along.

Aemond let out a satisfied hum, his gaze lingering to the way you rubbed your thighs now and then and fixed his posture. He rested his head on top of your head, patting it a few times. “Don't run around now. You will hurt yourself, little girl.”

You watched as your brother left, going into the same direction you had. Probably to head to the council. At times you wished you were a member of the small council too, so you'd be able to look and stare at your brothers all the time. Their youth had brought them unwanted attention and you were not fond of the idea.

Aegon needed a Queen for the realm, Aemond needed alliances for the realm and in order to secure those, he had to marry someone.

It all worked to agitate you.

Fuck the Realm.

You walked to your chambers and upon entering, you called for a servant to bring you the dress Aemond was referring to. It had always been his favorite on you. It was a lengthy dress with large sheer sleeves and a bow was stitched to its front. It was more of a night gown than a proper dress, if wore without small clothes. Your face flushed at the thought of Aemond seeing you in this, practically bare beneath the pellucid fabric of the gown.

A knock caught your attention and then the doors were opened, your mother’s face coming into view.

You smiled as she walked towards you, completely oblivious to the way she seethed at you. “Moth–”

The sound of skin colliding with skin reverberated in the room, bouncing off the high walls of your chambers. But what left you astonished was the slap your mother had delivered to your cheek. Pain blossomed along with crimson on the pale canvas as Alicent stared at you in pure anger as well as unmatched disgust.

Her hand moved to grab your arm, fingers digging into the soft skin. “You dare to lay with your own brothers, not one, but two of them?”

Your gaze flickered across the room, not having the courage to make eye contact with her as tears welled up in your eyes. This was the first time someone had ever treated you this harshly and the person being your own mother terrified you.

You struggled to speak, because you had nothing to say. All you could do was stand still as your mother reprimanded you, spewing out words which tugged at your heartstrings and forced your tears to run down.

“I was not aware I had given birth to a fucking common whore and not a Princess.” You flinched at her harsh tone, her tight searing grip and the way her other hand moved to grab your chin.

It was all too overwhelming for you, your sensitivity failing you here. Tears ran down your face in small streams, hoping that this would end. “Please mother–”

“Not a word.” Alicent snapped, her anger growing for you even more. It was mostly directed towards her sons, knowing fully well that they were capable of defiling their own sister but she had trust in you. She'd mistaken your love for your brothers as platonic. “Bold of you three to engage in such, heinous and obscene actions out in the open. You think I would not find out? The master of whispers is loyal to me!”

Her voice boomed through the room and with every high octave of her voice, you sobbed and flinched.

It was the comfort of your brothers that you craved. To run to them, wither away in their arms and cry your little heart out. Even as a little girl everyone thought twice before reprimanding you, but your mother had laid a hand on you. For the first time ever and it surely left a scar.

“You will marry Lord Tully, I will see to it.”

Your eyes widened as you shook your head, realizing in that moment that staying away from your brothers was something you could not endure. Born from the same womb, fathered by the same man, you three were almost like triplets attached to the hip of one another.

Being apart from them was a punishment even Gods were not cruel enough to cast upon you.

But your mother was.

With all your courage and strength, you pushed at her shoulders and lifted up your skirt — sprinting out of the door with bare feet. You were in the midst of changing your shoes as they'd grown dirty when your mother blessed you with her presence. You had no idea which brother to run to, absolutely clueless to where they were.

If your mother, a member of the small council was in your chambers that meant the council had been dismissed.

Still with little hope, you slammed open the doors of the room where the meetings took place, only to find it empty. Crestfallen, you ran back into the hallway you came from, running outside hoping to find your other brother training.

Upon running out in the open area, your gaze flit here and there, a blurred one it was from all the hopeless crying you'd done in your despair.

You found the silver long strands of your brother flowing in the air as he moved swiftly against Ser Criston Cole. Your lips breaking into a soft smile as more tears fell, your dirty feet taking you to your brother. Everyone in the area witnessed the disheveled state of the Princess, yet no one dared to say a word about it.

Ser Criston stopped moving, dropping his sword and looking behind Aemond’s shoulder where you stood.

He immediately turned around when amidst the stench of sweat, metal and smoke, he caught a whiff of roses. There you were, trembling as you barely managed to hold your own frame. Aemond’s one eye widened, noticing your situation and the large handprint across your face did not go unnoticed by him.

“Who?”

You sobbed, your small hands reached for his chest as you laid your head against it.

Aemond’s fingers that once gripped the hilt of the sword now loosened, causing it to drop and come in contact with the floor. The whole of the training grounds had grown completely silent, witnessing the scene unfold before them. The prince was fucking pissed, the tremor in his jaw evident to everyone else around him and his aura changing.

He was no more composed.

“Who, Princess?”

You couldn't even speak properly without breaking your words apart. “M-Mother found out, Aemond. She will get me married now. I'm scared— I'm scared. I do not wish to leave you and Aegon. I am happy here, with you two. Why must I go? Why must–must I marry Lord Tully?”

Aemond’s mind blanked out, only your words lingering in it. He would burn the whole realm down before seeing you get married to someone else other than him, or his brother. You were theirs, their birthright. Aegon’s was the throne, he was second in line — a prince, a future knight maybe but before all that, you were their true birthright, made for them, crafted by the Gods in the same fucking womb they once nestled in.

Even if Aegon was easily manipulated by Alicent — which he doubt would happen as his brother shared the same feelings as he did for you, Aemond would not allow you to be taken from him. He had grown unloved, a boy broken beyond repair and you somehow still saw the good in him. You sought out comfort in a man the whole of Seven Kingdoms feared.

You, out of everyone, believed he too was deserving of love and you went out of your way to prove it.

Before he'd even proven his worth as a Targaryen by claiming Vhagar, you stood by him. When he lost his eye, it was you who was ready to tarnish the reputation of your own nephews as revenge for your brother’s eye. It was you who went beyond and all for the sake of your brother and most would call you a loyal hound but Aemond saw a beautiful girl that was willing to do anything for him.

His pain had ended — but now his mother, Alicent was going to freshen up old wounds.

He could not allow that to happen.

If you were taken from him, Aemond would mount Vhagar and burn the whole of King’s Landing down. He would not stop, he would descend into absolute madness, leaving nothing for his pretender of a half sister to rule. Everything ashes, destroyed and demolished.

The realm’s delight was a soothing gel, an apology from the Gods, a flourishing flower, a lover for Aemond and he would destroy anything and anyone that would intervene between them.

If the conclusion to this dangerous predicament was betraying his own mother, he did not find himself distressed by the idea.

Aemond didn't say anything, instead his hand wrapped around your wrist as he pulled you along with him. Known about Aegon’s whereabouts, he lead you to his chambers and upon entering, he saw the King engaging in a conversation with one of his squires.

“Out.”

The squire hurried, nodding its head and leaving the King’s presence at once.

Aemond pulled you along until you both were stood before the King. “Look at her. This is the consequence of your actions, Aegon.”

Aegon stared at you in pure scrutiny and as his purple irises ran over the marks of red fingers and palm imprinted on your cheek, his nostrils flared with anger. Your silver hair a mess, hair sticking out of your braids and your lips wobbled — everytime a fresh of tears sliding down and tainting your face even more.

“Who fucking dared to lay hand on the Princess? Give me their name and I will have their fucking head!” Aegon shouted and your previous rendezvous with your mother lead you to flinch, body leaning into Aemond’s in a desperate endeavor to seek comfort.

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “Alicent Hightower.”

“Mother? She wouldn't. Our sister is loved dearly by her.” Aegon’s eyebrows furrowed and Aemond scoffed. “Our sister was loved dearly by her, until she went ahead and broke the fucking rules.”

You sniffled, gaze lowered to the ground. The way your mother had addressed to you as some whore made you feel shame with such intensity, you could not even meet their gazes without bile rising up in your throat. Aegon walked to you, both hands reaching to cup your face. His thumb swiping across the mark in hopes that it would melt within the skin and disappear.

But it stayed behind.

“Aegon, she said–said I was worse than a whore. That she'd given birth to a whore instead of a Pr–Princess.” You bursted into a fit of tears and sobs, breaking apart in your brother's hold and Aegon looked at Aemond, a fire similar to his brother’s awakening in his purple gaze.

They were too eager, to protect you.

To get rid of their mother in this very instant but you needed them, you needed them to comfort you and be there for you.

“Listen to me.” Aegon lifted your head up, making you lock eyes with him. “There is no power in this world that can keep you away from us. Do you understand, my little dove? I will see the whole world burn before letting someone else have you.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Aemond wrapped his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Gods, this was all they wanted. To have you for themselves, all to themselves. Just a simple little thing yet customs, traditions and what fucking not got in between.

It angered them both.

If Aegon the conqueror could take two wives, why couldn’t a Princess take two husbands?

Was their house not about securing their bloodline? What better way than wedding the Princess to her two brothers, the King and the Prince. It was the only solution to this mess and both your brothers would see it happen.

“Don't cry,” Aemond whispered against your nape. “I will burn everything down, please. Don't cry anymore.”

You understood what your brother implied with his words and love for him swelled in your chest. Your mere tears affected him to an extent he would commit such a gruesome crime, against his own mother too. You tried to quieten down, sobs turning into soft sniffles as the twitching of your shoulders came to a halt.

“Trust me, my Princess. You must have faith in me.” You nodded at Aegon’s comforting words.

After all he had the bigger play at hand. He was the King, the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and had everyone beneath him.

Your small hand reached over to hold Aegon’s face in it, fingers caressing the soft supple skin. “I'm terrified, Aegon. She wishes to wed me to Lord Tully.”

“Fucking Riverrun Lord.” Aegon cursed, shaking his head. “I will bring you his head, put it at your fucking feet.”

Aemond hummed at the idea in satisfaction as he could not imagine you being in the presence of another man. Laying in the arms of another, being bred, giving birth to some dark haired children. The image instilled him with repulsion.

“You belong to us.” Aemond growled in your ear, his bare fingers moving to push your hair aside, revealing your pale neck to him. You whimpered when you felt him press a kiss to your sensitive nape, body tensing up. “Every inch of you, sweet sister. Your beautiful hair, your soft lips, from your breasts to your little cunt. It belongs to us and it will fucking stay that way, forever. There is no one in the Seven Kingdoms that can stand between us.”

Your back arched, lower half pressing into Aemond while the upper half pushed against Aegon. Breasts flush into Aegon’s chest and ass curved perfectly against Aemond’s bulge. Your tears had dried off by now but your lip still twitched from the ferocity you'd faced.

Before things could escalate further, the door was slammed open and Alicent stood there, her calm expression switching into one of anger as she witnessed the state of you sandwiched between her brothers. The woman lost all calm — taking powerful strides towards you but before she could actually reach you and tear you apart from your brothers, they stood in front of you.

Concealing your small, shivering figure from their mother.

“I will not have you continue this debauchery and ruin the honor of your house!” Alicent shouted and Aegon felt you flinch, your small fingers wrapped around his sleeve. Your other hand doing the same to Aemond’s leather tunic.

Aemond swallowed, to compose himself but Aegon had little to no respect left for his mother anymore. “What you call debauchery are actions done by our predecessors. Do you not remember Aegon the conqueror taking two wives, mother?”

Alicent’s eyes widened. “He was a man, a King! You cannot suggest something as baffling as this.”

“I am not asking, I am telling you.” Aegon spoke, stepping forward.

But his mother was not going to have it. The woman reached for you, pushing past her sons and when her fingers managed to wrap around your frail wrist, she tugged and pain shot through your wrist. Your loud cry acting as an immediate order for your brothers to protect you.

“Let her go!” Aegon stepped forward and so did Aemond, holding his mother's hand as he pulled.

All the commotion only made you cry out even more, the metal from your mother's rings digging into your skin, almost piercing through it and evoking blood. “I will not tolerate this. Do not pull her into your sick desires, she is but a child!”

“She is a child for us but is old enough to wed Lord Tully? You were always a hypocrite, mother.” Aemond called out, trying to pull his raging mother apart from you without causing you much pain.

You sobbed, trying to somehow squirm your wrist out of your mother's grasp. “You are hurting me, mother.”

Alicent was too far gone to even consider the fact that she was bringing her own daughter pain. The slap was to reprimand you, how mothers often do their child but by now the metal had slashed through your skin, little droplets staining your mother's hand as well as your wrist.

Aegon glared at the woman. “I am your King and I command you to unhand the Princess or I will have your fucking head.”

That is when Alicent’s grip loosened, her adamance dropping and you were quick to pull out of her hold. Your wrist stung and as you held it, Aemond caught the red peeking beneath your skin. He did not realize when he stepped forward or when his hand found his mother's throat, or when he nearly suffocated her.

It was all too much, and too fast.

“Dare hurt her again and I will kill you with my own bare hands.” Aemond threatened — meaning every word with his whole chest and Alicent knew that this son of hers was capable of harming her.

But as was Aegon now, as he too had seen the blood tainting your pale skin.

“You will send a raven to Lord Tully and you will tell him the Princess will be marrying her brother, The King, to become the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” It was spoken strictly but with an underlining of threat and Alicent could only nod.

Aemond released her and her hand immediately flew to grasp at her throat, dragging out choked and strained breaths.

“And then the Queen will have me as her second husband.” Aemond finished with a smug smile.

Alicent shook her head. “This is beyond unacceptable. The realm will not tolerate it.”

You stood there, lips trembling and eyes swollen as you continuously let out more tears. Your mother shot you a look of pure disgust but deep down she knew that it was not really your fault. Your brothers encouraged this mess, all of it but she didn't know that you too were hopelessly in love with both your brothers.

“We're the fucking Targaryens. Rulers of the the realm, we write history and make tradition.” Aegon said, proudly as he glanced at his sister with a softened look in his eye. “If anyone wishes to start a war over the Queen getting fucked by her two brothers, we're more than welcome to engage in it.”

Aegon knew sunfyre and Vhagar alone could clear out the whole of the realm.

Alicent spared you one last glance before turning around, running out of the room. Her state was the same as yours now and you almost felt a sense of pride. Yet the hurt had not subsided. Your own mother harming you like this was something you had never expected.

Once alone with your brothers, Aemond took a hold of your hand, as gently as he could and looked at it. There were droplets of blood everywhere on your wrist and he felt his own boil at the sight. “I shall call for the maester.”

He soon arrived and while he bandaged your wound as you laid on the bed, both brothers at each side, he could not ignore the tension with which the room was elevated. He finished his work as quickly as possible and after giving you a few drops of milk of the poppy, he left the chambers.

Aegon lifted your wrist, bringing it to his lips and you watched as your brother pressed kisses against the bandage. Featherlight and gentle.

“I—I feel bad.” You voiced out your feelings, somewhere feeling at fault for all this mess.

You blamed it on your abundance desire to prove your love for your brothers.

Aemond shifted closer to you, hand in your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. “You mustn't. You are not at fault, my sister. You're the most sweetest little girl and you deserve all the love in the world.”

Your cheeks bled crimson.

This was the first time ever Aemond had been this open with you, this raw and maybe it was because he almost lost you. He knew better than to be his usual stoic self with the likes of you.

“She wishes to wed you to someone too, Aemond.” You pouted, looking up at your brother. “I can't share you, I resent the idea of it. It brings me unease and repulses me. I think I might kill whoever you get betrothed to.”

Aemond nearly cooed at how your jealousy was finally pouring out. He exchanged a glance with Aegon who almost seemed proud that his little dove was capable of sounding this strict, but fucking adorable. Gods, they were a lost cause.

“The only person I will be marrying is you, sweet sister. I belong to you, and forever will.”

It was as if his words had magic and the pout disappeared from your lips, replaced by a honey smile. You moved your other hand and tugged at his sleeve. “Do I still get to wear that white dress for you tonight?”

“You're hurt, Gevie. I wouldn't wa—”

You quickly sat up. “I'm fine! Look at me, I'm perfectly fine. Please Aemond.”

“May I also know what the fuck is going on here about this white dress?” Came a very irritated question from Aegon as he looked between the two of you.

Your cheeks burned and Aemond decided to explain. “I told her to wear her white dress for me when I will visit her chambers tonight. Before, unexpectedly, this turn of events happened.”

“You meant to fuck our sister without me?”

Gods, his older brother was as dramatic as they came. Behaving as if he had not claimed you first and multiple times. “You took her maidenhood and then proceeded to fuck her in the gardens too. Let me have my fill.”

“You can have all your fill you fucking want, Aemond. I'm fine with just watching.” Aegon suggested and the idea wasn't so bad, only he knew that Aegon would eventually lose all restraint and end up joining them too.

He sighed. “Alright.”

Then he turned to you. “You okay? Can you go to your chambers and wait for me, hm?”

You quickly nodded your head, sitting up on your knees now. You pushed forward and put all your weight on your palms, leaning in to kiss your brother's lips. You felt your older brother's hand roam over your spine, moving against your head as he pushed your lips deeper against Aemond’s.

“Suck on it, come on.” Aegon encouraged you, recalling the lessons. “Exactly how I taught you, little dove.”

You nodded as your cunt produced the essence of your arousal. Your lips puckered up, closing around Aemond’s upper one as you sucked. His hand moved to grab a handful of your breasts and you whimpered into the kiss. It soon ended when both of you pulled apart to inhale some oxygen.

Your cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

“I need you to go now, my sweet sister.”

You hopped off the bed, not before giving Aegon a kiss too but with less intensity and not that he minded. He knew he'd have his fill of yours sooner or later too. For now it was his younger brother's turn to own you, to claim you fully.

Aegon’s stomach churned with anticipation, thinking of Aemond driving his cock into the walls of your tight cunt and he shuddered meanwhile Aemond’s own cock hardened at the sight of you walking out of the chambers, hips swaying here and there.

Both were painfully hard.

“I want to breed her, get her with child.” Aemond suddenly broke the silence and Aegon chuckled. “Even if it is your child, we wouldn't know for sure. Look at us, we look the fucking same.”

“Perhaps,” Aemond agreed. His brother had a very valid point. Two Targaryen men fucking a Targaryen girl — all of them having silver hair and the same features, only a tad bit different.

Aemond stared at the door. “She has not shown signs as of yet, so I must fuck her over and over again until I know for sure she is with child.”

“Are you that desperate to have your child inside her, or maybe it is the Iron Throne you wish to see your child to ascend.” Aemond groaned, body going slump in the sheets at his brother's words.

It was not his desire, as obvious as it seemed it was.

“You took her maidenhood, Aegon. I want her to bear my child first.”

Aegon stared at his brother, blinking shortly before breaking into a fit of laughter. He could not believe that his cunning brother cared more about petty emotions such as jealousy than actually using this situation to put his heir on the throne. It was too amusing for him.

“You are fucking obsessed, brother.”

Nightime fell.

The hour of the bat had settled in, the moon proudly beaming up in the dark sky, dominating it.

You were already dressed in your white dress, awaiting your brothers but the butterflies of anticipation nipped at your stomach for Aemond.

You paced back and forth in the room, the white end of your dress trailing behind you. The doors were soon pushed open and you saw Aemond walk in. His staunter always filling you with excitement, as heat rushed to your face. His sword glued to his hip and you tried peeking behind but to your disappointment, your older brother was nowhere to be found.

It was only Aemond.

“Brother, where is Aegon?”

Aemond stopped in front of you, hands held behind his slim back. “Oh, did my sweet sister not wish to see me?”

Your face contorted in confusion and you were quick to shake your head. Hand reaching to grasp around your younger brother's, a frown ceasing your delicate features. “Absolutely not, Aemond. In fact I have been looking forward to seeing you, my eyes were glued to my door.”

Your confession made him chuckle as he brought his hand up to your face, caressing the skin with the back of his fingers.

“Is that so?” Aemond asked. To you he seemed normal, stoic and devoid of any emotions but on the inside Aemond battled his demons. Restraint was slowly slipping and the Prince wished for nothing more than to fuck you, right here, against the fucking floor if he willed. His desires were often concealed, kept at bay which made him more dangerous than his brother, Aegon.

He'd kept himself pure, untouched for you.

Aegon encouraged him, to indulge in other women. Whores that would keep his lust for his own sister at bay but as usual, Aemond always declined. He knew that his body only yearned for his sister, not some used whore fucked by countless.

His pure — sweet innocent sister.

You nodded your head with a pout forming on your lips. “I missed you. I waited for you ever since I left Aegon's chambers. For a moment I thought you wouldn't come.”

“How could I not come?” Aemond whispered, breath mingling with yours. “Do you think me cruel enough to make my beautiful sister wait like this?”

With a shake of your head, you covered Aemond’s hand on your cheek with yours. A soft lick of your tongue at your lips made your brother lose the idea of self control, his cold demeanor crumbling apart. His boots tapped aggressively over the floor as he cornered you against the pillar of your bed. Your breath hitched — throat parching as Aemond buried his face in your neck, his nose catching whiff of your scent.

“Iksan ribazmoqitta syt ao, mandia.” Aemond murmured and you whimpered at his High Valyrian, feeling his nose trail up your neck and then back down, grazing against your collar bones. (I'm crazy for you, sister)

Your thighs subconsciously pressed together and Aemond noticed it. He licked his own lips as he brought his face up to yours and locked lips with you. You were take aback by the sheer aggression he held, how violet he was being when his large hands began ripping away at the dress. One shoulder ripped while the other in a perfect state. His fingers clasped around your waist, digging into the skin as he moved his mouth skilfully against yours.

All that you had learned, was now slowly disappearing from your mind as your brother dominated your mouth like a savage. You gasped when he pushed open your thighs with his knee, settling it between them. Aemond took your gasp as a chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth and the moment he did, you reached heaven. His rigid tongue battled with yours, wrapping around it and sucking on it eagerly like a babe sucking milk from its mother’s teats.

“Ae—���

You tried parting from him but he didn't allow it. Simply, he sat down on the bed and pulled you onto his thigh. Everytime Aemond would bounce up his thigh, a whine would escape your lips feeling the rigidity of skin deliver sensations to your sweet pearl. Your hands moved to his shoulders, laying as you tried to hold yourself together.

“Tonight I get to be the one inside your cunt, sweet sister.” Aemond growled, his chest rumbling with unlaced desires. “Your little cunt will be the first I would ever fuck.”

Your eyes widened. Confusion clouding your features as you'd assumed your brothers has already done this before. Aegon had — so why did Aemond hesitate? Before you could question him, your lips fell apart and desperate whimpers orchestrated.

“I-I will be your first?” You somehow managed and Aemond nodded, bouncing you on his thigh.

He was fucking hard, his cock stirring in his breeches. “Yes, my Princess. I made a promise that is it only your cunt I shall drive my cock in.”

You whimpered. “Oh, Aemond.”

Your brother had lost every bit of restraint and had been tipped over the edge. Aemond pushed you off him onto the bed and watched with his one eye as your small body bounced off the mattress, an expression of shock adorning your features. He wasn't going to be as soft as Aegon — he knew that deep down and he was going to make sure that you knew it too.

Jealousy that Aegon had you first riled him up.

Aemond stared at you, dress ripped and hair a beautiful mess, silky strands laying over your shoulders. Your dress ripped in places, shreds of it missing. He swallowed, hands unbuckling his belt and tossing his heavy sword aside, followed by the removal of his gloves and clothes. You stared at your brother in pure awe as he finally stood before you in all his glory.

Aemond was taller, leaner, sharper.

His muscles taut and standing out from the rest of him.

He crawled towards you, like a dangerous animal and in this moment Aemond almost resembled Vhagar. How he stalked closer to you, instilling fear within you as your brother reached for your ankle and clasped his fingers around it, tugging on it and pulling you closer to him.

“Open your legs.” It was a command, that was proven. “Be a good little girl and show me your sweet cunt."

You obliged, thighs parting open and the cold air brushing against your soaked cunt caused heat and chills to take over. Aemond let out a groan at the sight. How sweetly you parted your legs and how your pink pussy peeked back at him — glistening from your creamy arousal. It enticed him like nothing else, sending hot blood rushing down into the veins of his cock.

“Do you grow this wet each time I speak a word in High Valyrian?” He asked with a soft scoff, embarrassing you furthermore. Your hands had fisted at your chest as you slowly dragged your head up and down. Aemond had the most beautiful High Valyrian you'd ever heard and it would be a lie to say it did not work to entice you.

It was alluring.

Aemond didn't waste time getting on top of of you, holding his cock as he aligned it along your hole.

His ache to be inside you was something he tried to suppress since the past few days but he failed. Every time taking the company of his own hand, using it to bring him relief and imagining it to be his sister's cunt. He was a depraved man, worse than Aegon.

“Aemond,” you whimpered when your brother pushed past your folds, his thick cock head stretching you beyond your limits. It proved that it was thicker than Aegon's, more longer and your back rose up from the mattress.

Aemond rested his weight on one bent elbow by the side of your face while his other grabbed your chin, fingers dimpling in your cheeks. “Look at me. Look at me while I fuck you, sweet sister. Fucking look at me.”

Though his words were full of aggression, his voice was soft like the clouds. Everything about him was rough, with sharp edges but his voice. It was gentle and it drove you fucking insane. Growing drunk on it everytime you listened.

Your stomach twisted as Aemond buried himself inside you to the hilt with one single push. It sent your body forward and your eyes rolled into the darkness based at the back of your skull. Tears fell as your wet walls sucked in your brother's cock, wrapped tightly around and Aemond groaned — thighs shuddering. It was his first time and Aemond realized it was worth the wait. It was worth turning down the whores, declining their offers or looking down upon them. It was all fucking worth it and your brother had finally found solace from the war in your delicious cunt.

“Gods,” Aemond almost whined like a child at how good you felt, fitting his cock perfectly like you were made for him. “You were so worth the wait, sister. If it is to fuck you, to put a babe in you, to breed you, I would wait a hundred years more.”

His hands shifted to grab your thighs, pushing them up. Your legs went up in the air and your eyes slammed open, widening at the brazen position your brother had contorted your body in. Aemond pushed more and eventually your thighs met your breasts as he began to pound his cock into you, watching how it slipped in and out of your gummy walls — the sound of flesh meeting flesh sending him over the edge.

Your stomach was taut and with a new, strong thrust you felt your brother's cock prod at the skin of your stomach, a newfound pleasure dominated your body. Aemond had not only found your sweet spot but also tore through all barriers, reaching your womb.

“Aemond, my brother. Brother— oh please!”

The aforementioned’s pace only picked up upon hearing you address to him as yours. It was enough to make him go fucking insane as he pummeled his cock deeper inside you, watching the bulge form on your stomach with a frustrated expression. All the pent up tension from war, training endlessly for hours and anger towards his enemies was slowly pouring out.

Aemond knew that he would break you. He wholly possessed the power for it.

“Gevie riña, ñuha gevie riñītsos.” Aemond moaned, his silky hair caressing your face, softly. “Kesan dīnagon iā rūs isse ao.” Your pussy’s endeavor to suck your brother in did not go unnoticed by him. You were truly a sight as your cunt throbbed around Aemond’s cock when he'd spoken High Valyrian. It left you in a complete daze, your own desires pooling in your stomach.(Beautiful girl, my beautiful little girl. I won't stop until you're with child)

A hoarse chuckle escaped Aemond. “It arouses you, my sweet sister? Listening to your brother speak High Valyrian? I can feel your little cunt trying to swallow me whole.”

Heat rushed beneath your cheeks as you nodded your head, fingernails dragging down against his biceps, evoking streams of blood.

Both of you were so occupied with one another, no one noticed Aegon entering your chambers or walking towards the two of you, or when he took a seat on a chair facing the bed. You cried out, tears continuously sliding down as Aemond’s rapid thrusts made him pant like an animal in heat.

“Careful now, you'll break the poor girl.” Aegon interrupted his brother's debauchery.

Aemond’s hips came to a halt, but his cock was still sunken inside you. He glared at his brother, the sapphire dancing in his empty eye socket. A sight he'd entrusted few people with.

“Continue.” was all Aegon said, slumping back into his seat.

He watched with a lustful gaze as his younger brother continued to drill his cock into your cunt, squelching sounds filling the air in the room. You were a sobbing mess and Aegon acknowledged that his brother was the beast amongst them both. With how relentless Aemond seemed, growing impatient second by second.

He soon switched positions, flipping you on your stomach like a rag doll and pulling you up by your frail arms against his broad, well-built chest. His cock was still inside you and as Aemond held you over it, he brought his lips to your ear.

“Hop now, sweet sister. Give our older brother a show.” All you could do was sniffle, tears blurring your vision as you started to lift your ass up. You somehow made a rhythm, bouncing up and down on Aemond’s cock while he put his weight on his palms forced into the mattress.

Your back glistened with sweat and oils — pale skin a replica of the moon. Even compared to the moon, you were somehow the most prettiest. Your hair got in your face, hovering as you grinded on your brother's cock.

Heat emanated from your petite figure whilst your parted drool covered lips let out the most delicious little sounds.

Aemond glanced at Aegon and found him already with his cock in his hand. Erect with precum leaking from his tip. He stroked himself while watching you ride his brother like your life depended on it. The dedication your face was riddled with made him breathless.

“She's so obedient.” Aemond grunted as you pushed down on his cock. “It almost makes me want to devour her whole.”

Aegon nodded in agreement, eyebrows closed in together as the movement of his hand fastened.

Aemond reached for your arms, pulling you against his chest and taking the lead. He thrusted up, his hips finding a rhythm to work with as his grip tightened on your skin. You whined, head thrown over his shoulder as Aemond felt his peak dance around him.

“Invite Aegon in.” He whispered against your ear. “Be a good sister and help him.”

You turned to Aegon, your cunt tightening around Aemond at the sight of your brother this disheveled and out of breath.

You turned to Aegon, your cunt tightening around Aemond at the sight of your brother this disheveled and out of breath.

“A-Aegon, please come here.”You whimpered, patting the bed and Aegon rose up from the chair, shifting on the bed and sitting in front of you. You reached for his cock, wrapping your hand around it. Slick covered your hand as you moved it up and down, your thumb caressing the slit of his head.

The three of you moaned in unison, whines along with groans and grunts filling up the room. The scenario almost reminded Aegon of the brothel he'd often visit and he sighed, throwing his head back as he let you bring him the best of pleasures. Your little wrist moved swiftly, to drag an orgasm out of your brother – his cock throbbing and warm against your skin.

Aemond held you tightly, using your cunt to satisfy himself. You felt so fucking small in his hold and the thought of putting a child in you drove him insane.

“I'm going to taint your pretty walls all white, sweet sister.” Aemond whispered from behind in your ear, his deep voice birthing chills on your spine while Aegon let out desperate whines, close to bursting in your small hand.

He soon came — white fluid staining your pale hand, almost the same color. You sobbed as Aemond’s thrusts increased, growing more relentless. Your brother tossed you on the bed after you'd pleasured Aegon and buried his cock deep inside you, your knees helping you support your ass perched in the air.

Your back arched, face buried in the sheets, Aemond took you from behind. His cock prodding over and over again at your sensitive spot.

“Greedy cunt.” Aemond grunted, large hands cupping the entirety of your waist as he felt his peak near. “You like this, hm? You enjoy getting destroyed by your brothers. Gods, sister. You're such a fucking cocksleeve.”

Holding onto to the tethered pieces of his sanity and humanity, your brother drilled his cock into you. Loud pants concealed by the sounds of skin against skin, Aemond growled as his balls throbbed to fill you with his seed and he did – shooting ropes of his spent inside you. Holding you against him as he filled you up.

“Aemond! Please, please. Too much, can't take it—Brother please!” Your muffled wails echoed, sobbing into the pillows and all Aemond did was fuck into you harder, more rougher. It was too much for your little body but Aemond was too far gone.

With a loud muffled cry, you tightened around your brother and came all over his cock. Your gummy walls so tight, so wet, enough to tear an orgasm through your brother too. Aemond pumped you full of his load, his thrusts slowing down as he moved his hips sensually now, in slow strokes, fucking his spent deep into you.

Surely this would get you with his child.

“Fuck.” Aemond shivered as you milked him dry, sucking him in more and more until you'd drained him fucking dry of any more seed. “You're so desperate to have my child inside you.”

He was right.

The idea of being swollen with your brother's babe was innocent but it enticed you to no ends.

For a moment your body was allowed to rest as Aemond let it go, watching how it fell against the mattress but then you felt it being lifted up again. Your eyes that had fluttered shut now snapped open again as Aegon pulled apart your buttocks, revealing your gaping hole with his own brother's residual leaking out.

Aegon didn't waste a moment sliding his own hardened cock inside the same hole his brother was in not long ago. Your energy was spent and you let it happen, your older brother holding your lower body as he used you to bring himself to a release.

All you could do was sob and let out tiny whines of disapproval.

“Sh, sh.” You felt a hand on your head and turned your head to find a naked Aemond sitting by your side. “Its okay. He deserves this, yeah? Let him fuck my seed further into your womb.”

You could only nod but your strained face let your brother know how tired you were. He glanced up at Aemond and found him already on the brink of his peak — his nails digging into the flesh of your arse as he continued digging his cock deeper into you. Aegon loved how because of his brother's seed slicking your walls, his own cock slid easily in an out of you. The wet sounds arousing him to no extent.

Soon he also filled you up, spending fully inside you and colliding next to you. Aegon immediately began to leech off your warmth, burying his face in your neck as he let out a murmur.

You whimpered, feeling heavy with the seed of both your brothers. Your cunt had grown heavy as you felt the warm liquid seep out of your hole, making a mess on your thighs and sliding down your clit. Your head nuzzled into Aemond’s side for comfort as both brothers laid next to you, cuddling you like their life depended on it.

Days had passed.

You paced back and forth in your room, fingers fiddling with one another. Your heart thumping rapidly in your chest, impatiently awaiting the arrival of your brother – husbands in your shared chambers.

Right after spending the night together, on the morrow both your brothers married you and dared all the members of the small council, lords, high born or low borns to come and challenge them. Prevent your union but no one dared to.

Turns out, one could do anything when you're in possession of three dragons, Seven Kingdoms and the crown.

The doors of the chambers opened and you smiled upon seeing them. One with crown, other with sword. Your feet took off as you embraced both your brothers in a tight grip and inhaled their scents.

“Hello to you too, wife.” Aegon chuckled, bringing his arm to wrap it around you, Aemond pursuing his actions.

You broke apart and pulled the two to the bed, sitting them down and the two exchanged a silent look between them, rather puzzled by your ecstatic behavior. You let out a sigh, bracing yourself.

“I have something to share.”

Aemond raised a brow. “Go on, wife.”

The term of endearment always filled you with butterflies each time you were addressed with it. Gods, your cheeks were swollen from smiling to an extent they hurt from it.

You beamed. “I'm with child.”

Both brothers looked at one another. Aemond was stunned but Aegon stood up, surprise in his gaze. “You–You're with child? I'll be a father, I'll be a fucking father!”

You nodded and then looked at Aemond but all he did was press an open palm over your flat stomach before also rising to his feet and leaning forward. “You've made us the happiest in all of Weteros.” Aemond pressed a kiss to your forehead and then embraced you in a hug, Aegon joining in. Both of them were beyond happy and could not believe that they were going to be fathers.

It mattered not that who the actual father to the child in your womb was — as long as it was fathered by one of them. They would love the babe no matter the gender, no matter who's blood coursed through its veins which made your heart flutter as you knew it.

Despite having such a controversial relationship, the three of you were pleased, content and happy.