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ervotica · 5 months

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the ones we love (will destroy us)

pairing; aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

tags; twincest (lol i'm sorry yk what the targaryens are like), aegon is so sad and babygirl and an idiot, hurt/comfort

note; heavily reworked repost of an old fic that i adored writing but needed a lot of editing! (i still lowkey hate it tho)

“Why is Aegon staring at you?” Aemond asks, a cruel smirk cracking his perpetually stoic facade; the's mocking in the way his gaze falls between you and Aegon, not entirely genuine as he takes amusement in his older brother’s miserable pining. Aegon watches your discussion with Aemond, sour faced from across the dining table. You’ve taken it upon yourself to sit as far away from him as you can manage; and where you’re usually attached at the hip - though he knows you’re arguing - he can’t deny the ache in his chest from your lack of acknowledgement. You're cold, unflinching as you stare right through him as though he's irrelevant, as though he's worth nothing to you.

“Because he’s a twat,” you answer bluntly. Aemond barks out a short laugh, coarse and harsh, that penetrates the quiet chatter of the room. Heads start to turn towards your avid conversing with your younger brother.

“What are you two bickering about now?”

“If he thinks it’s funny to to speak ill of me to everyone in the seven fucking kingdoms, I don't want anything to do with him.” Your lips purse as you cross your arms; Alicent eyes you, watching the tick of your jaw and flare of your nostrils - you’re upset, even if you’re excellent at masking it.

Aemond watches on amusedly as your twin grows increasingly agitated the more you pointedly avoid his glances. Your mother frowns.

“Y/n, don’t you feel you’re perhaps being a little hard on Aegon?”

“No.”

“He's your twin brother!” she sighs, ever frustrated by your stubbornness and your twin’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings, even yours at times.

“He’s still a twat.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes.

You continue to only speak about him indirectly. When you turn to Jace, he grins.

“Jace,” you start, clasping your hands where they lay on the dining table in front of you, “If someone said that you were ‘an ugly whore with no friends’ - as he so eloquently put it - would you be upset?”

“He said that?” Jace's jaw falls slack. “Wait, no. He honestly said that about you?”

The table clatters, cutlery bouncing, and Aegon stands abruptly, face screwed up in that way it does when he’s about to cry.

“It wasn’t like that!”

“How else could you possibly have meant it?” You’re incredulous, covering your misery with spiteful words. You want to make him hurt, make him feel your pain, but run to him for comfort all at once.

“Not-”

“Gods, just be quiet,” you mutter. Your face is hot as you turn away and you feel your eyes prickling with the threat of an onslaught of tears. Aegon cringes, drawn tight and tense as though you share one body, as though he can feel the pain he’s putting you through. Your upset has always caused him real physical distress, from when you were tiny children and still to this day. Your voice lowers to a whisper. “You’re so mean.”

“Y/n-“

You’ve never seen him quite this distressed; his cheeks flush pink and ruddy and his eyes start to water and gloss over, not dissimilar to your own expression - though you’re much better at concealing your emotions. His nostrils flare the way they only do when he cries: the way they did when he sobbed in your arms for hours after your mother rejected his pleas for affection once again, the way he cried when you were ten years old and your father interrupted him every time he tried to speak. Your bottom lip trembles.

“Please,” he croaks. Your brows knit and crease your forehead as your chest tightens; you bite the inside of your cheek with such force that you draw blood.

You stand and the solid wooden dining chair thumps against the floor. Aegon mirrors your movements, rushing towards the exit in your wake.

Once you’ve left the presence of your family, the tears come hard and fast and unrelenting. They’re hot against your cheeks, damp as your hands shake to scrub them away, leaving only a tender sting and blooming heat in your touch’s wake.

“Please talk to me.” The door creaks shut and then Aegon’s voice cuts through the sounds of your sniffles; you spin on your heel and he surges towards you in a bout of energy, clasping one of your hands in both of his larger ones. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, it was mean. And you should be angry with me. I miss you and I love you and I'll never, ever speak a cruel word against you again.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask; he lurches to latch himself to your body, anxious as though you’ll push him away at any given moment. His arms are tight and unmoving around your waist.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently, “I don't know why I said it. I just wanted the others to respect me but shouldn’t have said such awful things. The only person I need is you.”

“What?”

“I don’t care about any of that now. None of it matters to me if you’re not by my side.”

His body shudders when your arms close and tighten around his body and a sob looses from his throat. Your voice is thick as you murmur in his ear.

“You hurt my feelings.”

His head falls to the dip of your shoulder and he clings to you with a strength that you’re not unfamiliar with; it cracks your heart all the same.

“Please forgive me, sweetling. Please.” The velvet of your dress darkens in splotches where his tears fall. “I love you.”

You know he really is remorseful; the guilt eats at him until he can’t feel anything else, not until you’ve reconciled. He's always been the same, ever since you were six and he hit you in the face; you didn’t speak to him for four days and he cried with such vigour that he made himself sick.

“I love you,” you can’t help but whisper back. “But if you ever do something like that again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

He laughs wetly, an odd sound that gets caught in his chest as he presses further into your embrace.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his damp face towards your own. His lips fill with air and push out into a pout.

His muscles go soft and relax the second your lips mesh with his; your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, licks into your mouth and murmurs something imperceptible. When you pull yourself away, he chases you, desperate to be close.

“Love you,” he mumbles, plying you with damp, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks and neck. They leave glistening half moons in his wake. “I‘m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, tucking your head in the hollow of his throat. “I forgive you, alright?”

A laboured breath forces its way out of his lungs when your arm wraps around his neck for a hug.

“I didn't like you sitting next to Aemond,” he sighs. You shush him, rubbing thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks in unbridled affection. “I want you to sit next to me.”

“I always sit next to you,” you murmur. “I was upset, remember?”

“I know,” he whines. “but you’re mine.”

“Don’t be a baby,” you giggle. “I spend all of my time with you.”

He squeezes you tight then and buries his face in your hair. You grunt with the force of his weight.

“I missed you.”

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toms-cherry-trees · 5 months

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Safe In Your Arms || Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: There is only one person whom the Prince can find comfort with

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, lactation kink, mommy kink, p in v sex, handjob, edging and denial (m receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), implications that Aegon was beaten as a child, Aegon being a sad little meow meow, minor character death,

Author’s Note: First time writing Aegon y'all!. But this idea had taken root in my brain and had to be delivered. Thank for to my lovely honorary wifey @aemondsbabe for brainstorming with me and giving me the seal of approval at an ungodly hour. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @fairysluna

The embrace catches you by surprise, a pair of strong arms circling your waist and a nose nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin. A large hand cups the round weight of your breast, clumsy fingers unsuccessfully trying to undo the buttons of your servant’s dress. The other lays flat against your belly, pushing your body flush against the prince standing behind you. You try to halt his movements, eyes darting around the nursery to ensure your privacy, even though you knew the children have gone out to the Godswood with the Queen and Princess Helaena. Still, you need to make sure no prying eyes will come across you two. You will not be the first servant the prince laid with, nor the last, but gossip would spread nonetheless if Aegon is found being so amorous with his children’s wetnurse.

He has already opened the first two buttons when you decide to stop him, gentle but firm fingers holding his own and pressing his hand against your heart. A small groan of discontent escapes his lips, and you can picture the scowl in his face without looking at him. He complies and abandons his efforts, but doesn't let go of your body, keeping you caged on a grip tighter than usual. You two linger like that for a few moments, surrounded by a comfortable silence. You could stay like that, but you know that something particularly bad has to occur for him to seek you during the day and with such desperation.

“My Prince?” You try to crane your neck to lay eyes on him, but he only groans again and buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your flesh. You feel dampness on your skin, like tears dropping slowly from his lashes.

With a bit of struggle you turn around, still trapped in his arms. You try to make him look up but he refuses, hidden into you like a cranky child. Over time you have learned how to read him, as easily as an open book laid out before your eyes. He has his way with words to brazenly flirt, jest and argue, but never to express his feelings, especially when they overwhelm him. He just tries to show with actions what his mouth refuses to say.

Tenderly, like you would do to one of the children in your care, you force him to look up and meet your gaze. Red rims his eyes, violet pupils glossed over with unshed tears, the imprint of a slap still fresh and inflamed upon his cheek. You need not ask to know he has once more been caught in an altercation with his grandsire and mother, one in which he stood no chance. He never has a chance against them and the great plans they have for him, plans in which he has no say nor desire.

“Go to your bedchamber” You murmur quietly, two fingers pressing against his lips to stifle the protest that has already formed “I will be there shortly.”

Begrudgingly he drops his arms, quietly exiting the nursery, shoulders slumped and gaze downcast. You quickly finish your current duties, instructing another maid to cover for you as you make way to his chambers as discreetly as possible, excuses ready upon your lips should someone question your presence away from the children. But no one looks at you twice amidst the hustle and bustle of the Keep, and you find his door unguarded and unlocked.

Aegon has already thrashed the bed in a fit of anger, the blankets scattered around it while he lays under a sheet, still fully dressed and shoes still on. He clings to a pillow like a child to a beloved toy, although by the way he does it, so tight his hands touch his own arms, you think he is trying to actually hug himself, give himself some of the love he rarely got. You sit by his side, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He takes your hand, fingers tight around your wrist as he brings it up to his face, pressing your soft palm to his reddened cheek. He closes his eyes, and you notice yet more tears beading on his lashes, and the characteristic wobble of his lower lip.

“Let’s get you comfortable, yes?” Soft tone and gentle words, a speech used many times before with him. You have been there a plethora of times with him drunk, hungover, crying, covered in spilled wine and his own waste. And time after time you have cleaned him, changed his clothes and dried his tears. You have snuck his soiled sheets and clothes to the laundresses, since you know his maids report his every word and action back to his mother, and you want nothing more than to spare him to the best of your abilities from his elders’ wrath.

Some nights he clings to your body desperately, his fingers digging on your hips as he begs you to stay. And you comply, unwilling to pile more sorrow on him and incapable of denying anything to those wide, sad eyes.

He doesn’t say word, but you don’t need any to heed his call for help. You undress him easily, unbuttoning his doublet and undoing the laces of his breeches, leaving his clothes carefully folded on a nearby chair, the boots neatly by the side. When he remains in only his linen shirt and smallclothes, you put the bed together around him, tucking the sheets and smoothing the blankets as you quietly sing a lullaby, the same you use to put his twins to bed every night. It has the same calming effect on him as it had on them; the soothing of your voice halting his tears and making him relax his posture as he lets himself be cared for and pampered by your tenderness.

Once he has settled comfortably, you lay by his side. Aegon immediately scoots closer to you, his head burrowed against your bosom and one arm draping around your waist. You trace his swelling cheekbone with featherlight touch. Whoever has slapped him has put quite a lot of anger into it, most likely his grandsire. It is not the first time things have gotten physical between them, and most certainly not the last. It seems the Hand thinks he can beat his grandson into the Prince he wants him to be.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Aegon often chooses to seek comfort and just push his problems to the back of his mind, but you still encourage him to voice his woes. More often than not he prefers to remain silent, but you always offer him the space to speak freely and without consequences should he want to. To know he won’t be judged or chastised, and he will only be met with the tenderness he deserves.

Long seconds linger in absolute silence before his voice breaks through, weak and constricted “They have found me a bride”

You only nod, not needing to ask more. Ever since Aegon’s first wife had passed, scarcely 3 nights after the birth of their twins, his grandsire and mother had pushed him to pursue another wife, a lady from a strong House to garner their support when the time came. Originally his mother had wanted him to marry Helaena, to strengthen his claim to the throne, but then the King intervened. The only time he put his foot down instead of letting his council rule on his behalf, and he did it to betroth Aegon to a branched out lady of House Velaryon, while promising Helaena to Aemond. While the siblings’ marriage flourished, Aegon found himself tied before the Gods to a woman he couldn’t love, to the extent it took 6 years for them to conceive, and she only lived enough to name them.

At your silence, Aegon clings tighter to your body, his freshly blossoming tears dampening the front of your dress “I don’t want to, they can’t make me” His sniffs, and you notice him pressing his lips tightly together to force himself to be quiet.

You shush him, smoothing back his damp hair “You have to, sweetling. You are a Prince, and you have duties to your mother and family” Your words make him tense again, fisting your dress as he exhales loudly through his nose.

“I have no duties, I am not the heir, I am just a failure they are stuck with. I’ve done everything they wanted of me, and still my mother won’t ever look at me with pride” Another conversation had one and a thousand times. As the firstborn male, all eyes turned to him when the King’s health began to fail, and even though he still lingers, he hangs only by a very fine thread. And the Hand has everything prepared to land the crown upon his own bloodline, whether his grandson wants to or not. And he most certainly doesn’t want to.

You don’t argue, knowing that any attempt of contradicting him would only circle you back to the same arguments. You only let him speak, let it all escape his chest. But he has few words that day. There’s not much to say that has not been said already.

“Father never loved me. Grandsire only sees me as something at his disposal to use at convenience. Mother does not love me any more than what she is obliged to” His eyes meet yours, wide and adorable and terribly sad “I only have you. Just you. If they make me marry I won’t let you go. You cannot abandon me” His words carry an urgency and fear you hadn’t heard on him before. A deeply rooted terror of losing the only person who has not touched him with violence

You press tender kisses to his forehead, your touch gentle and warm “You will always have me, sweet boy. To the end of times. If they send you to the end of the world, I will be right behind you, taking care of you. If they put you on the throne, I will be at your feet as your most loyal servant”

Those reassuring words coax a smile out of him, a smile only meant for you. It is not often these days that Aegon is seen smiling, only in rare instances when he is with his children or with Sunfyre. All the others are reserved just for you.

Another comfortable silence lingers between you two, eyes locked with one another as your fingers card through his blonde tresses, his breath becoming a little sharper every time you accidentally tug on a knot. His hands snake up your front, stopping just in the curve of your breasts as he waits for your permission. You easily undo the very first button, allowing him the pleasure of doing the rest.

It takes him no time to have the front fully unbuttoned, pushing the fabric away to reach the object of his desire. The dazzled look he gets on his face whenever he stares at your bare breasts never fails to amuse you, as if he is staring at the most wonderful thing the world has to offer. His lips quickly find home around your perked nipple, releasing a satisfied sigh as he suckles at your milk, his hand cupping the free breast and massaging it lovingly, swiping his thumb over the hardened peak. You let out a content sigh, settling comfortably on the pillows as you watch Aegon nurse enthusiastically, barely stopping to breathe.

It had been after one of his many nights out that he first found comfort that particular way. Smelling of cheap perfume, even cheaper spirits and covered in vile things you didn’t wish to identify he had returned, and once more you had been by his side, putting his broken pieces back together and trying to not let his cracks be seen by the world the next morning. His hands had roamed your body, as they often did, a touch you glady allowed; he had never once done one thing you didn’t let him do, not even while being so deep in his cups he couldn’t say his own name. He had rested his face against your bare chest, inhaling deeply the musk of your skin while he toyed absently with your breast. A sharp pinch to your nipple had coaxed out some droplets of milk, which he collected on his thumb and brought to his lips. He repeated the process several times before crossing eyes with you, searching your face for any sign of rejection, but you only smiled and helped him get comfortable in your lap as he latched onto your breast for the first time. Nothing could quite calm him like that afterwards.

The prince at your breast lets out small sounds of satisfaction and content sighs as he grips your flesh tenderly, massaging it to coax more of the rich liquid to come down. At first you think he is relaxing and perhaps close to falling asleep, but then you notice his free hand down his body, palming his erection over the sheet. His teeth graze the engorged bud of your nipple ever so delicately, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, accompanied by a growing dampness between your thighs. You rub them together discreetly, seeking some form of friction as you continue to watch Aegon clumsily touch himself, trying to balance his need for pleasure with the attention he is lavishing upon your tits.

His whines take a desperate edge while he humps his own hand, his movements faltering since he doesn't know where to focus. Instinctively your hand moves slowly down his torso and under the sheets; you gently push his away and wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few tentative pumps.

“Do you want Mommy to take care of this?”

Both of you stop for a moment, eyes wide, and he even drops your breast in shock. He had very occasionally called you ‘mommy’, mostly ironically when you had ordered him around, or more intimately when you did certain things like tug on his hair or grip him a bit tighter. But you had never used the term that way, and by the way his cock throbs in your hand, the idea excites him as much as it does you. You give him a firm squeeze, making him jump on the bed

“I asked you something, sweet boy. I taught you how to use your words. Do you want Mommy to take care of your problem?”

Aegon swallows visibly, eyes still wide. His lips move rapidly, but no sound comes out other than a pathetic mumbling as he tries to unscramble his brains. He finally gives up and just nods, looking up pleadingly. But you don’t cave in and give him a firmer squeeze, earning a whimper from him

“Words” You say firmly, but without sounding too harsh. You don’t want to take him too far and make him scared. But you are also deeply curious on how far you can take this little jest.

It seems to take all his strength to push out every word “Yes Mommy, please” He sounds so small and defenceless, bordering on innocence. If you didn’t know him much better you would believe him a man that has rarely laid with women.

Encouraged, you stroke his hard cock slowly, swiping your thumb across the leaking head to gather the already forming drops and smearing them down his length. Aegon’s hands are everywhere, on your face, on your breasts, on your shoulders, pushing the rest of your dress out of the way to free more of your skin. He grips your hips, squeezes your thighs, seeks in your body an anchor to life as his face scrunches in pleasure. His breaths become ragged and you see his abdominal muscles tensing as he approaches climax. But as soon as you feel the familiar twitching you let go of him, your hand resting on the curve of his thigh.

His eyes shoot open and he half sits, staring at you with a mix of desperation and indignation. He whimpers quietly, shifting his hips to try and get under your delicious touch again, but you slap his thigh gently to keep him still.

“No moving. Mommy is taking care of you and you don’t move unless I say so.” Your tone is low, whispering the words as you press your forehead against his, gazes locked on each other. The black of his eyes has widened, making the purple seem darker, and the tears have dried at last. All that remains is lust mixed with submission, all of it just for you.

You gently caress his stones, watching in amusement as gooseflesh spreads across his skin at the touch, his legs instinctively spreading wider to grant you better access. You trace your index up his length, following the path of the throbbing vein prominent on the underside of his cock, while he fists the sheets, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You lean down to kiss him, letting him drown his moans against your welcoming mouth when you finally pump him, keeping the pace steady.

Again you stop just seconds before he reaches climax, earning an even more desperate whimper from him.

“Mommy, please, it hurts, I want to-” His words are cut short when your free hand takes hold of a fistful of his hair, just enough to feel the pull in his scalp. The moan comes from the depths of his chest when you brush your lips against his ear.

“Are you a good boy? A good boy for Mommy?”

He nods eagerly, his hands cupping your face to keep you close.

“I will be good Mommy. Please, please it hurts” His eyes gloss over, and his lower lip trembles again. He looks so pretty you struggle in your heart to carry on with this little game, even though he seems to enjoy it. And you are enjoying it too, so much you feel is unfair you are missing out on the best part.

You pull away just enough to drop your dress to the side, your smallclothes following suit. With Aegon flat on his back, it is easy for you to straddle his hips, letting the head of his cock snuggle in your slick folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when you rock your hips, gliding the heat of your cunt along his length. You take a slow pace, dragging out the moment as much as possible. But while you are in no rush to finish, Aegon is in a desperate hurry, pushing against your hips and mewling desperately to urge you on. When he tries to grab your hips you smack his hand away and lean in, so close your breaths mingle.

“Stay still, sweet boy. You don’t want Mommy to get angry and leave you like this, do you now?”

“But Mommy” He pants heavily, beads of sweat gathering in his temples “I need it, please. I will be good. I need to be inside you. Please”

You click your tongue, a smirk pulling at your lips. You smooth back his hair and press a kiss to his hairline, an almost soothing touch.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. But you have to keep being good and do as you are told, sweetling. If you are extra good, Mommy will let you spend inside her”

With that promise in mind, Aegon does his best to stay still, but you don’t make it easy for him. The rhythm is tantalisingly slow, coming to a halt every time you or him get too close to climax. His desperation grows to uncharted levels, fingers digging on the mattress, fists so tight on the sheets his knuckles turn white, lip bitten so strongly between his teeth it leaves an imprint. Tears bead in the corners of his beautiful eyes and roll down, dampening the sheet underneath. When you stop for the umpteenth time and a sob racks his chest, you know he’s ready.

You sit back on your haunches and watch him carefully. His hair is toussled from how much he has trashed on the bed, his face puffy and tear streaked, the flush of his cheeks spreading down to his chest. His cock is angrily red and leaky, impossibly hard and coated in your juices. Every muscle on his body is tense like a bowstring ready to fire. You touch his taut abs, rubbing the aching muscles soothingly.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. You deserve your prize”

The moan he releases as you line his cock with your entrance, sinking slowly until he is buried to the hilt, has surely been heard throughout the entire Keep. Encased in your tight heat, it takes no more than a few rocks of your hips for him to peak, back arching off the mattress dramatically as he screams his release to the vaulted ceilings, painting your walls with his spend. But you are not quite there yet. You continue to ride him, now at a dizzying pace, chasing your own release. His whines reach a new high, having barely time to recover from his groundbreaking climax. His abused cock is almost too sensitive to touch, and the drag of your cunt around him feels like fire climbing up his spine; the most deliciously tortuous fire.

Your hips and thighs begin to ache from the exertion, but you are so close, and seeing your sweet Prince so ruined it's definitely spurring you on. You shift your angle just a bit, so the head of his cock brushes against a certain spot inside you that makes you feel like you can touch the stars, all while your fingers circle your neglected pearl. It takes no more than a few thrusts before you climax, your walls tightening around him and somehow drawing out a second peak from him, even though you are sure he doesn’t have much more left to give you. You ride out your release, halting only when the burning on your thighs becomes too much to ignore.

You slide off and lay next to Aegon, who appears to still be waiting for his soul to return to his body. His eyes are wide, some stray tears still rolling, his breaths heavy and slow. When he whines quietly and turns to you, you reward him with a sweet smile and a tender, brief kiss upon the lips. Aegon snuggles into you, just like he likes it best, his face buried in your cleavage as he catches his breath. You rub his back in slow, soothing circles; he closes his eyes, his lips seeking and finding your nipples once more

While he suckles you lean closer, tracing his features with your fingertip

“You were such a good boy. So good for me. Mommy is so proud of you”

The gentle praise goes straight to his heart, that much you can tell in the way he hugs you with his entire body and the upward turn of the corner of his mouth. You know he is tired, and perhaps his body is urging him to sleep. But to do that he needs one last little nudge

“Mommy will always be with you, my sweet Prince”

#marsie writes #aegon targaryen x reader #prince aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #prince aegon x you #aegon ii targaryen x you #prince aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #king aegon ii x reader #king aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen one shot #Aegon targaryen imagine

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

Playing with Fire

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon II Targaryen

summary: You travel to the capital, as Prince Aegon intends to take a wife at the command of the King. Much to your surprise, more than one Targaryen prince catches your eye.

warnings: none for this part other than some sensual themes

word count: 4k

A/N: as Katherine Pierce once said, "it's okay to love them both😏"

masterlist

King Viserys announced a ball, to be held within the Red Keep, crafted for his eldest son Aegon to choose a bride. Maidens traveled from all corners of the seven kingdoms and beyond, to attend and vie for Prince Aegon’s affections. You were to be no exception, much to your displeasure.

Your family had carted you off to the capital, though you put up quite a fight. You did not wish to marry yet, let alone marry Prince Aegon. You had heard nothing but promiscuous rumors about him from ladies returning from their times in the capital.

Nearly all returned with a story about Prince Aegon; stealing to their rooms in the night or pulling them to darkened corridors only for them to leave with lips bruised from kissing and ruffled skirts. The prince was said to be quite lustful and gluttonous.

You would listen, eyes wide, as they recalled their stories with blushing cheeks and girlish giggles. One lady even showed the lovebites Prince Aegon had adorned her neck with, pushing back her hair and revealing the purple bruises that had just begun to fade to a deep jade color.

Prince Aegon was reminiscent of a wolf in your mind, or perhaps a dragon like that of his house sigil. An all-powerful creature who devoured whomever he desired.

Alas, as the only daughter of your family, it was time for you to find a husband. A prince was too enticing of an offer for your family to keep you at home. You simply would have to avoid Prince Aegon and hope he would not take a liking to you. You figured it should be easy enough to do, he would surely be preoccupied with the dozens of ladies who had come for him.

Still, the night of the ball you found yourself clinging to the corners of the room. Your mother had traveled to the capital with you and was eager to present you to the dragon prince. She had a new gown tailored for you, the soft pink color of a rose from the Reach. Your hair was done in an elaborate style, with silver pins that shone like stars in the candlelight. You slouched into the crowd, spotting her looking for you.

“Seven hells,” you murmured to yourself, ducking behind a servant carrying a tray of empty goblets. You can hear her voice above the music, calling your name. The serving girl gives you a startled look and you smile at her, apologetically.

You moved swiftly to avoid her, taking cover behind Cassandra Baratheon who is eagerly looking for Aegon. She glances down at you, blue eyes narrowing. She looks breathtakingly beautiful, clad in a sapphire-colored gown that matches her eyes, and makes her pale skin luminescent. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, spilling down her back. Cassandra has come dressed the part of a princess.

“What are you doing?” she asks, nose wrinkling. She waves the fan she holds, the fabric matching that of her gown. She barely acknowledges your presence, long neck craning over the crowd hunting for Prince Aegon.

“Hiding,” you hiss, looking around nervously. Cassandra rolls her eyes folding her fan and whacking you with it on the arm.

“Ouch!” you yelp, swatting at her.

“Get away from me!” she scolds, “you shall make me look foolish!”

You make a face at the Baratheon, sticking out your tongue, before dashing to the opposite side of the room. You had briefly resided in Storm’s End when you were a child, as a ward to the Baratheons. Needless to say, you and Cassandra did not get along well.

You heard your mother’s call once more and panicked, as the crowd began to part. Glancing to your left, you spotted a long table covered with food for grazing guests. The tablecloth was long and dusted against the floor. In your panic you dropped to your knees, and climbed under the table, fixing the tablecloth behind you.

You exhaled a deep breath as you pushed yourself back, sitting completely under the table. You could hear the crowd around you, but you were hidden. Well, almost. In your haste your slipper had come off, and it lay sticking halfway out from under the table.

Your eyes widened as you reached for it before it was pulled from your sight. Lifting the table cloth you stuck your head out to address the thief.

Prince Aemond stood inspecting your slipper, brows furrowed in confusion. He looked very regal, in an outfit such a deep, rich green it almost appeared black. Gold trimmed the cuffs of his sleeves, and down the front of his shirt. You were admiring him until his violet eye met yours.

You had heard of the accident that happened to Aemond when he was a boy but you had never met him. A deep scar marred half his face before disappearing underneath an eyepatch and reappearing through his brow. Aemond’s face twisted in confusion as he looked down at you.

“What are you doing, my lady?” he asked, voice stiff but polite. He spoke as though he could not be bothered by your foolishness.

“Please, my prince,” you said in a hushed whisper, reaching for your shoe. Aemond did not move, still perplexed. You could hear your mother’s voice, as she chatted, followed by Cassandra Baratheon’s irritating call.

“Why are you under- ooof!”

Aemond was not someone who was easily surprised. But surprise him you did. Without thinking you slammed your hand into the hard muscles of his stomach, grabbing his shirt. The prince doubled over and you pulled him under the table with you.

Aemond looked at you incredulously, shocked that he was overpowered by a maiden.

“I do apologize, my prince,” you said in earnest, hoping he would spare you his fury. You wore a desperate expression on your face, your eyes pleading. People had lost their hands entirely for putting them upon royalty, and you were rather fond of your extremities. You continue to stare at him, eyes wide, as you are crouched on your knees.

Aemond had no idea who you were, other than some noble lady. His lips parted as he watched you, his hand still holding your slipper. Your eyes dropped to it.

“May I have my shoe?” you asked, and Aemond jerked his head in a nod, but did not return your slipper. He felt very confused with the entirety of the situation. Aemond was not used to such tomfoolery.

“My lady,” he began, “why are you hiding under a table?”

You wet your lips, eyes still nervous. You swallow before answering, still nervous that the prince may drag you by your hair to the nearest black cell.

“I am hiding.”

“That is obvious,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, “from whom?”

“My mother,” you say, flinching as a shadow moves past, “she wishes to introduce me to Prince Aegon.”

Aemond hums, tucking a knee towards his chest and resting his arm atop it. He does not need further explanation. His eye roams over your form, over the dress you wear, and the layer of sweat that coats your forehead and throat from your antics. Your hairstyle is disheveled, several pins seem to be out of place, but the ones that remain sparkle in the light that sneaks through the tablecloth.

You meet his eye and feel your cheeks turn red at his attention. He is devilishly handsome, with his silky, long silver hair and purple eye that seems to peer into your soul. The eyepatch and scar only make him seem more dangerous, causing your palms to sweat nervously.

“I apologize, it was rather rude to involve you,” you tell him, glancing towards the floor.

Aemond chuckles, the sound coming from deep in his chest. You smile weakly at the sound, having not expected it.

“This is the most interesting thing that has occurred all evening,” he assures you, “unless, of course, you count Lady Tyrell’s gown mishap.”

He watches your eyes widen and mouth open at his shared gossip. Aemond smiles, happy to have engaged you. He watches as the nervousness begins to fall from your face, and your shoulders relax.

“What happened?” you ask, brows lifting in curiosity.

“One of her sleeves caught on Lord Manderly’s broach, and tore,” he tells you, watching you cover your mouth to stifle your giggles.

“Disasterous indeed,” you snicker and Aemond feels his lips tug into a smile. You laugh once more at the thought. A moment goes by, the pair of you sitting in silence.

“You are free to leave my prince,” you tell him, “I do not mean to hold you, hostage.”

“It is quite alight,” he says, earnestly, “I am enjoying the distraction.”

Aemond found this whole affair a slap in the face. Aegon was not interested in marriage, nor was he suited for it. He would rather indulge with any lady, servant, or whore he could get his hands on.

Yet their father insisted on this spectacle for Aegon to take a wife. If he did fail to do so, Aemond knew the small council was plotting for Aegon to marry their sister Helaena. Aemond did not know which plan he hated more.

A hand reached the edge of the tablecloth and your mother’s face became visible. Behind her stood a smirking Cassandra Baratheon.

“Y/N,” your mother hissed, pulling you from under the table. Embarrassment was evident in her voice and you hung your head as she scolded you.

“There, I told you Lady (Y/L/N),” Cassandra said, in a nasally voice. You scowled at her, as her face twisted in confusion as Aemond exited the table behind you. He stands holding his arms crossed behind his back. You did not realize how tall he was, he towers above you.

“She behaves like a child,” Cassandra snaps, a shrewd smile on her lips.

“You are a horrible cow, Cass,” you hiss at her, causing her to sneer. The look fades as she takes in Prince Aemond behind you and she bats her lashes, fanning herself.

“Oh, my,” your mother said, looking towards Prince Aemond, “your grace.”

She begins to curtsey but Aemond waves her off.

“No need, my lady,” he told her, offering you both a smile, “I was just delighted by your daughter’s company.” Aemond holds your slipper out to show your mother. You glance towards the floor, your bare foot hidden under your skirts.

“The lady simply lost her slipper, it rolled under the table you see,” he lies to your mother, who nods at his words. A starstruck expression is plastered on her face as she gazes up at the handsome prince. A dreamy smile plays on her mouth.

You purse your lips, fighting a smile that threatened to appear. Aemond turned to you then, violet eye gleaming, as though acknowledging the secret he kept for you.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing towards your foot. You nodded and he knelt before you. Aemond curled his hand around your ankle, lifting your foot from the floor and helping you inside your slipper.

“There,” he said, looking up at you, “no harm done.”

You hear Cassandra scoff behind you, but your mother looks pleased.

“Thank you, my prince,” you tell Aemond, as he stands. You feel fluttering in your stomach as he holds your gaze. Your ankle tingles where his hand has been.

“I do hope we run into each other again, during your stay in the capital,” he tells you.

“I should like that, very much, my prince.”

“Aemond,” he insists.

“Aemond,” you say, enjoying the sound of his name on your tongue, with no titles attached. You smile tentatively as his name lingers in the space between you.

Aemond bids your mother farewell and departs toward the other side of the room. Your mother locks her hand around your arm.

“That is not the prince we came for,” she scolds, but you can tell Aemond still has her flustered. Her face is flushed, as though she is remembering her youth. She fans herself with a gloved hand.

“You are blushing, mother,” you tease and she shoos you away, “where is Prince Aegon then?”

You glance around the room, and the only other silver-crowned head you spot is that of Princess Helaena who is engaged in a dance with her grandsire. Your mother instructed you earlier to befriend the princess, something she would surely remind you to do on the morrow as well.

“You are too late,” Cassandra calls, fanning herself once more. You roll your eyes at her eavesdropping. Ever the nosy gossip, Cassandra is.

“The prince has left for the night. I assume he found someone to entertain him,” Cassandra says, feigning that this does not bother her. You see through her though; Cassandra believes she is already married to Aegon in her mind.

You flush at her words. Targaryens seem to have insatiable appetites. You bring your gaze back to your mother who frowns.

“Do you hear how she talks of him?” you ask, “do you truly wish a man like that for me?”

Your mother scoffs at your concerns.

“He would give you a dozen children then, several grandchildren for me,” she says, patting your arm. Your eyes widen in horror at the thought. Your mother has no qualms with you marrying a lecherous man, then. She sees your expression and gives you a look of a mother’s aggravation.

“Do not look at me like that,” she tells you, “you need not be scared of the marriage bed.”

“Easy for you to say,” you tell her, sighing, “you are not a maiden.”

“I was once,” she says, tone hardening, “when the time is right, I shall tell you all you need know. It need not be frightening.”

You remember the bruises on the lady’s neck and know your mother must be lying to you. How could they be born of something pleasurable?

“May I go to bed, now that the prince is gone?” you ask and your mother sighs, before shaking her head.

“I have been without your company all evening, you shall stay a while longer.”

You stay much longer than you intend, getting lost in gossip with your mother and other lords and ladies of court. You are even able to introduce yourself to Princess Helaena, who captures your attention with her latest fascination with an insect found on the islands of the Jade Sea. She had been reading about it, and her eyes lit up when talking about it.

The hour is late when your mother leaves you to retire to the guest chambers you share. You linger behind to hear Lord Beesbury finish a tale. You find yourself wandering the Red Keep, searching for your chambers.

You pass by several goldcloaks who murmur to you, politely. You yawn, as you turn a corner, walking down a corridor lit by recently revived torches. The servants of the Keep must have been told to refresh them with all the late running festivities.

A noise catches your attention; the squeaking hinge of a door being opened followed by a giggle. The shape of a lady appears, her green dress sparkling in the light. She has red hair, and you recognize her but cannot recall her name. Your eyes widen as she smiles, hand outstretched behind her, holding onto someone.

She pulls her partner towards her, and your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. The silver hair is unmistakable. His hair is shorter than his brother, though he wears a similar outfit to that of Aemond. His shirt is untucked and you notice the laces of the lady’s corset are loose, as though restrung in haste. Prince Aegon grins as he reaches to cup the lady’s cheeks, covering her lips in a passionate kiss.

You stand frozen and unnoticed by the pair, entranced by their embrace. The lady makes a whimpering noise as Aegon’s hand slips down her throat, the other holding her waist against him. He removes his lips from hers, only to bring them to the side of her throat. Your lips part as you watch him kiss her neck as though it were her lips. The lady seems to enjoy this, tangling her hands in his short locks.

You are so hypnotized by Aegon’s actions, you don’t notice when the lady’s eyes open to a half-lidded stare. Her eyes widen as notices you observing them. The lady shrieks, pushing Aegon away from her.

“What?” he grumbles, as the lady smoothes her skirt, fleeing the scene with a reddened face. Aegon watches as she rushes by you, his violet eyes meeting yours.

Your eyes are wide, lips parted in shock, and you feel as though your feet are rooted to where you stand. Though your mind is telling you to run away, following the fleeing lady, you stare at the prince. Aegon stands shorter than his brother, his shoulders slouched in a carefree manner. His hair is wavy, the strands ending near his jaw. Like his brother, he is painfully handsome. A curse all Targaryens seem to bear.

Aegon wets his lips, which are a shining feature of his face. Reddened and plumped from kissing, begging to be kissed again. It is as though the gods molded them for kissing and kissing alone. Aegon’s mouth opens, and his brows come together, as he takes a lazy step toward you.

“I do not know you,” he says, his lips downturned into a pout. You swallow hard.

“I am Lady Y/N, my prince,” you tell him, clasping your hands in front of you, trying to stop them from fiddling nervously.

“Lady Y/N,” he says your name slowly, as though tasting it. “I did not see you at the ball.”

“I was there, my prince,” you tell him, knowing your efforts of avoiding him were in vain, “it appears I did not make an impression.”

His lips turn into a smile, revealing a row of shiny white teeth. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip drawing your eyes toward his mouth.

“I should bid you goodnight, my prince,” you say urgently, turning to leave.

“Wait!” he calls, a quickens his steps until coming to face you.

His eyes narrow, a smile still playing on his face.

“How did I not see you?” he asks, “I always remember a pretty face.”

You feel your face flush. No matter how much he frightens you, flirtation with a prince is not something you are used to.

“I do not know, my prince,” you tell him, flustered by his compliment.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as though enjoying how you squirm beneath his gaze.

“Come have a drink with me,” he offers, “and we can review your evening, and why we did not make each other’s acquaintance.”

Insatiable indeed. The prince was just with a maiden, and yet here he stands, planning his next course. He holds out a hand to you, a glimmer of mischief in his eye. You can picture the ladies who stood in your shoes before you, who said yes to him. Who indulged him in the pleasures of the known world. You could do so too if you so desired. His voice is inviting, a sensual caress.

“May I speak freely, my prince?” you ask and he nods, curiously.

“I am quite frightened.”

Aegon’s head snaps back at that.

“Frightened?”

You nod.

He takes a step back from you, hands held out in surrender.

“There is no need to be frightened, my lady,” he tells you, “I wish you no harm, only the pleasure of your company.”

Your breath comes out shakily.

“I do not wish you to bed me,” you tell him, rushing out the words, “I do not wish you to take my maidenhead.”

Aegon’s eyes go wide as saucers and he releases a laugh, before shushing you.

“My lady, we are in a corridor,” he says, looking around as though you’ve made a foolish assumption. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish.

“I have heard stories,” you tell him and he frowns, though there is amusement in his eyes.

“Oh, you have?”

“Yes,” you say, growing annoyed with him, “that you lure helpless maidens into your bed, OR any place that suits you.” You gesture to the corridor you stand in. A bed, a wall, probably on dragonback. It likely did not matter.

Aegon laughs again, a pink blush dusting his cheeks. No one has spoken to him of his reputation so directly before, outside of the members of his family.

“How lustful of me,” he says, a grin stretching from ear to ear, “you paint me as such a wanton creature Lady Y/N.”

You raise your brows. Aegon stands before you, unashamed. It must be so easy for a prince, to be a man in this world. He is so relaxed with the conversation about his promiscuity.

“You just had a lady in your company,” you accuse, “and now you look at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asks, leaning against the stone wall, as though the conversation was entirely natural to him. You laugh, breaking his gaze, before looking at him once more. He raises a brow, eyes still half lidded, intrigued.

“As though you are a man starving, who has happened upon a feast,” you say, laughing at the ridiculousness of it gesturing to the space between you.

Aegon gives you a once-over with his eyes before answering. A tingle rolls down your spine as his eyes take in every inch of you. You feel naked under his gaze.

“Perhaps I am famished,” he tells you, and your entire body feels like it is on fire. He is very good at this, and you suddenly realize what makes women want to crawl into bed with him. If this is anything like what pleasure awaits the marriage bed, perhaps your mother was right.

Aegon wets his lips when you do not answer, tilting his head against the wall, and exposing his neck to you. You watch the apple of his throat bob up and down and have a sudden urge to place a kiss on it. You roll your shoulders back, steadying yourself.

“Yes well,” you stutter, trying to find words, “perhaps there are leftovers from the feast.”

“Are you in the capital long?’ he asks suddenly changing the subject. You blink, the room suddenly seeming uncomfortably warm.

“Yes, my prince, at least-”

“Good,” he interrupts, pushing off the wall and walking towards you. He comes to stand face to face with you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the sweet wine on his breath from the feast and something else; something rich and smoky that makes you want to bury your face in his chest and inhale.

“I shall have that drink with you,” he says, eyes locked on yours until the final word he speaks. Only then does he drop his eyes to your parted lips, before bringing them back to your eyes. He flashes you a smile, before continuing his leave in the direction you came.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he calls and you turn, confused by his exit. There was something in the air between you that promised something more. The tension gnawing at you. Aegon has begun walking backward slowly, so he could face you, a smirk on his lips, as he takes in your expression. You feel your thoughts are not safe around him.

“Goodnight, my prince,” you manage to choke out, head spinning from the interaction.

“Aegon,” he insists.

“Aegon,” you repeat and he tilts his head back, as though enjoying hearing you speak his name.

Then he turns on his heel and is gone.

When you finally make it to your chambers, the sky has begun to lighten with the promise of imminent sunrise. You lay in bed, thoughts racing and heart pounding. Your dreams are restless, filled with dragon princes with silver hair and lavender eyes.

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aemondsbabe · 4 months

Text

Anniversary

summary: swimming & face fucking || you and aegon relax at a snowy cabin in winter town for your first anniversary

pairing: modern!aegon x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, i love him idk, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day four of 12 days of smuff!! surely this counts for swimming they are at least in some water lmao

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @gameofthronesdaily!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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You let out a soft sigh and relax further into the balmy water, letting your eyes slip shut as wafts of steam warm your face, which contrasted nicely with the cold mountain air that blew in breezes all around you. Your lips can’t help but curl up into a soft smile as bubbles gently break across the surface of your bare skin, tickling slightly as they rise to the surface of the water.

“Okay, you were right,” Aegon rasps next to you, his signature soft smirk audible in his words, “Maybe celebrating our anniversary in Winter Town wasn’t such an awful idea.”

You blow a huff of laughter through your nose as you crack open an eye to peer at him — watching as he lets out a contented sigh, head tilted back against the lip of the hot tub, along with his stocky arms. Your eye opens a bit more as you let your gaze linger for a second longer, taking in the soft pink blush smattered across his full cheeks and the way silvery strands of hair stuck against the top of his forehead from the steam billowing up off the surface of the water.

“Better than Dorne?” You tease, letting your eye slip shut once more.

You hear him let out a soft laugh next to you before he sighs happily again, “Better than Dorne.” He agrees, voice strained as though he were speaking through a stretch.

The two of you stay that way for an indiscernible amount of time, minutes seeming to blur together as jets massage every inch of you.

Suddenly, you feel the water seem to shift around you and you open your eyes, smiling when you see that Aegon has chosen to move much closer, his shoulder nearly bumping against yours.

“Hi,” you say simply, peering up at him through your lashes before you turn and lay back against him, your back against his side.

He quickly readjusts and hooks both of his arms around your middle, his hands resting idly just underneath your breasts. “Hey,” he chuckles, tilting his head to press a soft kiss to the damp hair at the top of your head, “Come here often?” He teases; you can practically feel his chest swell with pride as you laugh against him.

“As it just so happens, this is my first time,” you reply, tilting your head back to look up into his violet eyes, “Although, I happen to be on an anniversary vacation with my boyfriend.” Your smirk quickly turns into a pleased hum as he cups your breasts in his warm hands, your nipples hardening as you arch your back enough for them to rise out of the warm water.

“He sounds very lucky,” he rasps, savoring your gasps as he kneads the fat of your breasts, eyes glimmering at the whimpers you let out every time his thumbs skim across your nipples.

You reach a hand up and twine your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. “He tells me quite often he is,” you breathe before tugging his face down to yours and hungrily pressing your lips against his.

Both of you sigh into the kiss, your lips moving together lazily, unhurried. Aegon groans above you when he feels your tongue brush over his bottom lip, his hands grasping tighter to your breasts as he parts his pouty lips and lets you lick eagerly into his mouth, a gesture he happily returns as your tongues languidly swirl together.

The two of you kiss for a while, moving against one other leisurely, each of you drinking down the other’s small noises of pleasure.

Before too long, though, Aegon started to become restless and you smiled into the kiss when his touches became more desperate — harder, more incessant. You squeak against his lips when one large hand comes down and suddenly cups your center, already bare from when you’d both decided to forego swimsuits.

“Wait!” You breathe, sitting up and disentangling yourself from your boyfriend’s arms.

“Everything okay?” He asks with concern, one eyebrow quirked up.

You can’t help but smile, endeared at his concern, although you quickly correct yourself with a sly smirk before you lean in and press kisses in a trail, starting at his chest and working your way up and over his collarbone and neck until you reach his ear.

“Just want you in my mouth…” you tease, biting your lower lip as you pull back just enough to peer into his eyes.

“That can be arranged,” he says around a gruff laugh before tilting his head toward the sliding glass door that leads back into the small, cozy cabin you’d rented for the weekend, “Shall we head inside?”

You nod with a small giggle as you pull yourself from the bubbling water, squealing playfully when he takes the opportunity to smack a hand against your ass. The two of you quickly skitter inside, the cold air instantly nipping at your skin.

You sigh a sigh of relief as you make it into the cabin, happy to be out of the cold breeze. Aegon makes quick work of the sliding door, quickly locking it into place before he takes one of your hands and leads you to the soft leather sofa in the middle of the room, a pleased smirk on his face.

“I believe someone said something about getting their mouth on me…” he said, quirking his head to the side in mock contemplation as his hands settled on your hips; he presses a soft kiss to your lips before plopping himself down on the couch, one hand wrapping loosely around his already half-hard cock as he stares at you expectantly.

You merely give him a playful eye roll before sinking to your knees between his thighs, the plush fur rug cushioning your knees from the wood floors of the cabin as the heat from the small fireplace in the corner of the room warms your back.

He meets your gaze with a groan, tongue darting out to wet his lips when you place your hands on the tops of his thighs; the hand around his cock relaxes at his side.

You lean in and press soft kisses to the light trail of hair that leads down from his bellybutton, taking your time before softly licking at the head, a pleased hum bubbling up from your throat at the salty taste of his pre-cum.

“Fuck,” Aegon sighs above you, dark eyes nearly black as he watches you gently lick and kiss around the tip of his cock, “That’s it.” He praises when your lips wrap around him and eagerly suck him into your mouth.

You groan softly, relishing the heavy weight of him on your tongue, before you begin bobbing your head. You wrap one hand around the base, stroking what little of his considerable length you can’t fit into your mouth, as you look up at him through your lashes, your eyes scanning over the pale planes of his chest before locking with his eyes once more.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he huffs above you, pushing a stray lock of hair out of your face, “So beautiful with my cock in your mouth, hm?”

You nod as best you can, eyes watering slightly as the head of him pokes against the back of your throat. You can already feel his length twitch in your mouth, feeling cocky as you cup his stones with one hand, smirking when you find them already tightening up as you roll them gently in your hand in a way that makes Aegon’s head tilt back with a loud, drawn out groan.

You move against him for a minute more, your other hand gripping at the top of his thigh as lewd wet noises fill the cabin. He can’t help but curl in on himself slightly when you run your tongue over that one sensitive area at his head, a hiss leaving his lips as one hand cups the back of your head.

“Seven Hells,” he mutters, swallowing thickly before just barely canting his hips up, eyebrows furrowed in a silent question as his eyes meet yours, “‘M close, princess, please — fuck!”

You can’t help but giggle around his length, nodding the best you can. He makes a soft sound of relief before the hand at the back of your head tightens in your hair; you steel yourself, groaning as he begins rutting his hips up into your waiting mouth.

He lets out a beautiful whining groan above you, relishing the way his cock slides so easily in and out of your mouth as his tip prods deliciously at the back of your throat.

“Shit,” he grunts, guiding your head down at the same instant he snaps his hips up, watching intently as your eyes roll back into your head, pleased at how you seem to enjoy this just as much as he does, “Gonna cum down that pretty throat, fuck.” He warns, gripping tighter at your hair as he starts to lose himself.

You nod as best you can, sealing your lips around his cock a bit harder, squelching noises filling your ears as you choke around his length. Tears spring to your eyes as he thrusts a handful more times before his hips still, cock buried down your throat for a second as he all but growls above you.

Pride fills your chest as you feel his length twitch against your tongue, the heady taste of his spend fills your mouth as you swallow around him, careful to breathe through your nose.

After a moment, the fingers in your hair relax, allowing you to pull yourself off of him with a soft pop, smirking as you press soothing kisses to the insides of his thighs before you push yourself off the floor, wiping a hand across your mouth as you join him on the sofa.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” You ask softly, chuckling at the soft moan that sounds from his throat as you straddle his legs, your breasts pressed up against his warm chest as you settle yourself in his lap.

“You are goddess,” he murmurs, half-lidded eyes peering up at you as his hands come to rest on your hips.

You merely chuckle as you card your fingers through his hair, gasping as he pulls you to him, violet eyes flicking up to yours before he runs his tongue over one of your nipples, sealing his soft lips around the bud for a moment as he suckles it into his mouth.

“Aegon…” you breathe above him, whining as his hands sink down to cup your bum, pressing you harder against him still, as if he can’t be close enough to you.

“Give me ten minutes and I’m yours,” he promises roughly, nose digging into the fat of your breast as he busies himself against your chest.

You sigh softly and pull him up, slotting your mouth against his.

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maidragoste · 5 months

Text

Promises

THG AU

Victor!Aegon II Targaryen x Victor!Reader

Summary: President Snow announces that in the next Quarter Quell, the tributes will be reaped from among the victors.

Logically I should have posted the Jace games first but it's been a while since I posted anything about Aegon and I was excited haha

Edit: The first chapter of the Jace games is now available.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Please, if you enjoyed this reading, let me know in the comments or in my inbox, that always motivates me to continue writing 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

You were in the house of Viserys Targaryen like the rest of the victors from your district. Of course, you had to drag Aegon's drunk ass out of his house and bring him here first. Everyone was waiting for the broadcast about the seventy-five Hunger Games. All the Hunger Games were bloody but this year was the third quarter quell and in each quarter quell they modified the rules with the purpose of making the games even more brutal and more difficult to win. In the last quarter quell instead of sending two tributes per district they sent four so you couldn't even imagine what they planned to do now.

You locked eyes with Rhaenyra as you heard her father laugh at his own joke. She, like you, seemed to be anxious about the announcement because she kept spinning her rings.

“That's enough,” you said when you heard Alicent, Aegon's mother and Viserys' wife, sigh for the fifth time when she saw that her son wouldn't stop drinking. You tried to take the bottle from him but he slapped you and looked at you annoyed. Rhaenyra was ready to intervene but you waved her hand at her telling her you could handle it. “At least you can share a little,” you complained.

Aegon looked at you suspiciously. It wouldn't be the first time that you asked him to share his alcohol with you and then didn't return the bottle or in any case threw away all its contents. He groaned as he watched you pout before handing you the bottle. You smiled at him making a small smile appear on his face. Even so, he watched you carefully as you drank his whiskey, when he thought it was enough he abruptly took the bottle from you, causing the liquid to drip onto your chin. He laughed at your annoyed look as you wiped yourself with your hand. Rhaenyra shook her head at their foolishness.

President Snow finally appeared on the screen. Aegon's laughter stopped as did the conversation between Daemon, Viserys, and Harrold. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary, as every year he talked about the uprising against the Capitol and how significant the games were until…

"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol"You didn't know why but you couldn't help but get tense, you felt your stomach drop, you tried to calm by telling yourself that surely it was just the drink you had that was bad for you and you leaned back from the couch, listening even more attentively to the speech. "the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

You heard Alicent's screams. You watched as Rhaenyra got up from the couch and left the house. You flinched at the sound of breaking glass. The president's voice was no longer heard and the smell of whiskey filled the place. Aegon was no longer next to you, he found himself banging his head against the wall as he screamed. You felt like your heart was going a mile a second. You had a lump in your throat and your chest hurt and all you wanted to do was join in the screaming and smash things but that wouldn't help. Aegon needed you, Aemond and Daeron were busy trying to calm their mother down while Viserys carried a frightened Helaena to her room and Harrold along with Willis was trying to stop Daemon from destroying the kitchen as he had done with the vases in the living room.

You stood up and didn't bother to dodge the glass as you walked towards the youngest male victor in your district. You tugged at the back of his shirt, managing to move him away from the wall for a brief moment.

“Aegon! Stop” you shouted in a broken voice as you saw her hit herself again.

Hearing your voice like that Aegon turned to see you. There was now a bloody gash on his forehead and his eyes were manic. For a brief moment you thought he would attack you but all he did was pull your body towards his and entice you into a tight hug.

“We can't go back. I can’t go back” You felt his body shake as he sobbed and your heart broke for him. You knew Aegon's head couldn't handle surviving another arena, he spends all his time drinking to stay groggy and avoid thinking about all the people he killed. Even most of the time he only managed to fall asleep after having been drinking non-stop. "I can not do it"

“You won't,” you promised, caressing his cheeks, your head already hatching a plan. District One has five living male victors: Viserys, Daemon, Aegon, Willis Fell, and Harrold Westerling. There were chances that Aegon's name wouldn't come up in the reaping but if it did then Daemon could offer himself as a tribute. He would do it if you volunteered in Rhaenyra's place and if you promised to help him keep his girlfriend from District Four alive.

“I can't lose you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. Maybe he was lucky and his name didn't come up in the reaping but you had less chance. You and Rhaenyra were the only living victors in the district. If your name came up he knew his sister wouldn't show up as a tribute. She may not depend on being drunk to keep her calm but he had witnessed how she would sometimes wake up screaming and the dark circles under her eyes were evidence that she could sometimes go days without sleep.

And those words ended up destroying you. You started crying with him. You wanted to be strong but you couldn't. You didn't want to go back to the arena either, you were supposed to be free after winning the games, and you didn't want to kill again, much less people you know. You may not be friends with every victor but during these years as a mentor, you had at least spoken once with each one.

Your stomach twisted as you thought that maybe it was one of your friends who would finish you off. Would they be merciful and give you a not-so-painful death? You didn't believe it because you knew that the people in the Capitol liked the show, they got bored with a simple death, and they wanted to see blood. So if Arryk, Tyland Johanna, and Sabitha wanted to live they would have to put on a show to gain sponsors.

Perhaps the easiest thing would be to commit suicide in the games, you would bring dishonor to your district—you wouldn't be the first, people still didn't see Viserys as a true victor after having betrayed his cousin by killing her while she slept—but at least you wouldn't have to kill anyone. The president couldn't punish you, he had already taken away your loved ones after you refused to prostitute yourself and killed the one who was supposed to be your biggest sponsor, he had only wanted you to come out alive so he could obtain your body.

You could die by eating some poisonous bug, plant, or fruit like Jacaerys Strong and her district mate had tried to do at the last minute. Supposedly they had done it because they were in love and didn't dare to be in a world without each other but you were sure it was an act. You could come to believe that the girl is in love but the boy does not seem natural with every display of affection in public.

“It's not fair,” you whispered in disbelief when you realized that they were all being punished because of the last victors. They had done their act of rebellion by threatening to eat poisonous berries so that there would be no winner of the games after announcing that the rule that there could be two winners if they were part of the same district was revoked. “It's not fair,” you moved your hands away from Aegon's face for fear that in your state of fury, you might end up scratching him. “I want them dead.”

You were too deep in your head to notice Aegon looking at you in dismay. Tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes but there was no longer fear in them but fury and determination. You have the same look you had during your Hunger Games.

You may die in these hunger games but at least before you leave you would make sure to make the so-called lovers of District Twelve pay for ruining what little peace you and Aegon had. You would make them wish they had died in their games.

These days it seemed like all you felt was anger. Angry at President Snow, at the Capitol, at Jacaerys Strong, and the girl from Twelve. But right now the one you were angry at was Aegon. The day after the announcement about vassalage was made, all the victors agreed that they would train together and get in shape for these games. The only one who had continued training all these years was Daemon, so the rest had a lot to catch up on, especially Viserys and Harrold—because of their age—and Aegon—because of his alcoholism—so when it was about to be a week and the idiot still didn't leave his house, you got angry.

You entered his house with the key he gave you a year ago. You found him sleeping on the couch with several bottles, some empty and others still unopened, on his table. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid waking him up by screaming. The best thing would be to take advantage of the fact that he was asleep to get rid of any alcohol that was in the house. You started by inspecting the entire house and ended up throwing the contents of two flasks that were in his bathroom, five bottles of whiskey that you found in his room, and five bottles of vodka in his kitchen, down the drain.

When Aegon woke up he found you putting the bottles that were on his table into a garbage bag. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and once his vision fully focused he slowly stood up. He walked towards you and he hugged you from behind. Feeling your body he tensed he left a kiss on the back of your neck hoping you would relax but instead, he earned a slap on his hands that were on your waist. The blonde grumbled and walked away from you, finally realizing your bad mood.

“Go take a bath” you ordered without looking at him and continuing with your cleaning task.

Aegon listened to you, of course, he left before grumbling, revealing his displeasure at your cold tone towards him, hoping that once he was clean you would let him hug you and kiss you. At the thought of having your sweet lips, he soon took a quick shower and didn't even bother to dry his hair well before coming down to meet you in the kitchen. I smile at you when I see that you have made him eggs and toasted him bread. Before eating he wanted to look for a bottle of vodka to accompany the meal but he found his shelf empty.

“No more alcohol,” you declared, making the blonde turn to look at you with a frown. “Don't even try, I got rid of everything” you said when you saw him opening another shelf.

“You have no right!” He reproached you, pointing his finger as he walked towards you. You didn't flinch at his angry look nor did you try to escape when he placed both of his hands on the table, leaving you caged between his body and the table.

“You told me you couldn't lose me” The man looked at you confused without understanding what this had to do with you taking away his alcohol “So I'm training and I'm trying hard for these games for you” You felt heat on your face because of what you were about to say, you weren't used to being so open with your feelings. “I want you to do the same for me. I want you to train with me and the rest of the victors. I want you to promise me that you will give everything you have to win these games because I can't lose you either, I couldn't bear to live without you” Your voice broke at the end and you closed your eyes.

You needed Aegon to promise you so you could be a little calmer, you had already spoken with Daemon and he accepted your deal but you were still afraid that he would betray you at the last minute, you needed to know that Aegon would not give up if he went to the arena.

Feeling his chest warm at your words Aegon grabbed you by the waist to bring you even closer to him and captured his lips with yours. It didn't take long for you to move your lips in tandem with him. While he got drunk with the sweetness of your lips and melted before your touch, he couldn't help but think that this was the way he wanted to spend his last days, by your side. He also wanted to hit his past self for not taking advantage of every moment he had with you. If only he had made the effort to be a decent man and become someone worthy of you he would have told you a long time ago that he loves you. But he didn't and he didn't want to tie you down to spending the rest of your life with a useless drunk so he kept his feelings to himself and settled for those shared nights.

A growl left his lips as you broke the kiss. He tried to kiss you again but you moved your face making him pout.

"Please, Aegon. I need you to train. I need you to try and fight for us."

He hated that look in your eyes. He could see the fear and sadness in them. And knowing that he was one of the reasons you were unhappy made him feel a pit in his stomach. He didn't like the idea of having to fight Daemon and obey his orders, but he would do it for you.

"I will do it, I promise"

Maybe later when he is crying and with sore muscles he would regret it but seeing how your eyes lit up and the bright smile you gave him he didn't believe that would happen.

"I love you" he finally confessed his feelings and smiled when he saw the surprise in your eyes "I love you. I love you. I love you" he repeated while he spread kisses all over your face.

A mixture of laughter and sobs escaped your lips. You were happy to know that he also felt the same as you, you had long wanted to hear those words, but your heart ached knowing that you would not be able to spend the rest of your life at Aegon's side. It was a bittersweet feeling.

"I love you too," you declared through tears.

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faetreides · 29 days

Text

summary: king!aegon ii targaryen x afab rhaenyra’s child!reader

cw: CANON TYPICAL incest/targcest, boot worship, free use, public, voyeurism/exhibitionism (non con on the guards part 💀), hints of reader being just as much of a weirdo i’m sorry (rhaenyra can’t blame them tho), used a valyrian translator so if there’s any mistakes no there’s not <3, fucking on the iron throne as a celebratory end of work day thing, everything is 100% consensual on reader’s part, one use of “whore”, aegon’s pet names are all food related 🥴 (deadass almost had him call reader beer for the joke)

wc: 888 (🎱✨)

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

last hotd fic for a bit bc i’m out of ideas

kinktober masterlist

“Ry paktot, ilagon ao jikagon, jorrāelagon (all right, down you go love).”

You and your uncle Aegon have the strangest end of day ritual. It always starts with you being shoved on your knees, his hands cradling your shoulders to protect you from the sharp iron throne.

All others are sent away from the room, save for a few guards that had been eyeing your body far too much for his liking. You were yet to be married but numerous whispers of your sexual exploits ran through the castle like wildfire. Aegon II Targaryen, was a king that one could not even sneeze in front of for fear of setting him off. So he is careful to keep those shrews' musings away from you, it was a feat of strength to coerce you into being as bold as you are now.

“Come now, elilla (honey). Clean my shoes so i can give your cunt the fucking it deserves.” He orders you, and you are all too eager, especially with the eyes of the uncomfortable guards on you.

You pray to the Gods that Aegon does not catch them looking with their peripheral vision, pausing your fun to murder more of the staff would really rain on your parade.

The shoes of your king are cleaned before you put your tongue to them, something that you’re almost disappointed by at this point. You are tempted to ask him to turn away the shoe shiner for next time.

His crown has the same red haze surrounding it that lives deep within Aegon, and it commands your attention all the same. You let your eyes softly fall shut as you run your wet tongue along the edge of his boot. The metallic tang has become an old friend, as well as any paltry specs of blood you find. You fear that you could possibly develop a craving for it.

You prostrate yourself before your betrothed as if you were a humming bird that had come face to face with Balerion himself. A house kitten mewling for the attention of a tiger. It is not unlike performing a blow job. Your lashes become the sheer curtains you look out of and your mouth fulfills its purpose.

You flatten your tongue and begin to dip into the crevices, getting every inch of his shoes slick with your spit. Aegon has his weeping cock in the firm hold of both of his hands, and he times his strokes to every flick of your tongue.

Your “services” last for what feels like an eternity. Your uncle’s eyes wander to keep the forcibly voyeuristic guards in check. You can hear their feet shuffling on the ground as they squirm behind you, and Aegon is so pleased by this that he returns his attention to his beloved pet.

“Prūbres (apple), that is quite enough. Come back up, darling.” He says while gingerly rubbing the heel of his boot into your cheek.

“Yes, qȳbor (uncle).”

You clamor into his lap, taking the initiative by lifting your previously stretched hole over his cock. One of his hands claws into the flesh of your hip to steady you, and the other positions his cock upright. Once you get past the pink tip, your walls are snugly wrapped around his entire length in seconds. You both groan as he bottoms out. Aegon wastes no time and digs his nails into your other hip, lifting you off of his cock until the tip catches against your entrance and swiftly dropping you back down.

“My whore, a jewel worth more than any found in my crown.” The word comes out between gritted teeth, but the thumb drawing loose circles on your pearl is kinder. “Not one of those filthy dogs will ever know the pleasure of a cunny as sweet as the one made for me.”

“They will not.” You whined, relishing in the red marks his nails were no doubt leaving on your jiggling ass as you bounced on his girthy cock. “Only you, qȳbor (uncle), only my king. They could hang for all I care.”

You have an awful habit for letting words flow from your mouth with no thought of their consequences. It’s not your fault though, you muse as Aegon scratches at your moving globes of flesh, your cunt takes priority more often than not. You ignore the spark that ignites in his soul at the foolish declaration.

His thumb stops teasing your clit and rubs it harshly up and down until your rapid bouncing ceases in favor of chasing that high. He only has to spank you a single time for you to shatter around his cock with an angelic and blissfully soft moan. You let your torso fall to his and you bury your face in his neck as his other hand travels to grope your other ass cheek.

Aegon spills into you with an embarrassingly long and loud groan, licking at the pulse point of your neck as he fucks himself into overstimulation. This is the only time he will allow the guards to drink your sex in, so they can gawk at the pure amount of spend that leaks out of your ravaged cunny. He pretends not to notice or enjoy the stares, spreading your fat cheeks to give them a better view.

“Leave us be.”

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starogeorgina · 6 months

Text

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

Paring: Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen OC

Warnings: None

Chapter: 1.01

“Rhaenyra!” You continue to rapidly bang your fist against the door leading into your elder sister's bedroom. "Rhaenyra, open this door right now!”

You hated her.

“You’re a fucking coward to hide from me!” You didn’t care that your language was unfit for a young lady, a princess; Rhaenyra had cut you deeply, and you wanted to make sure she knew it. “Unlock this door at once!”

You hated her.

“I would have never done this to you,” you sob. “I loved you, Rhaenyra, my big sister. We’re supposed to look out for each other, not... I would never do this. Not to you, never.”

You only stop banging on the door when your fist is pulled back by Ser Criston. “You need to stop before you hurt yourself, princess.”

You knew he was right, but it didn’t stop the anger that was radiating through you. Not only has Rhaenyra humiliated you by sleeping with your husband, she has also given birth to his sons. Three of them. Something you were never even given the chance to do. Your brain comes to a heartbreaking realization, one that makes you want to scream as soon as you think about it. Rhaenyra doesn’t care about you and never did. You feel your knees start to weaken, and your stomach drops. The knight whispers, “I know you’re hurting, princess, but they aren’t worthy of your tears.”

You take a deep breath and wipe your fallen tears away, knowing that he was right. “Thank you, Ser Criston.”

“The queen heard about what happened and would like for you to join her in her quarters. She wishes to offer you her comfort.”

You blink away the tears, your vision becoming more clear, and when it does, you see your husband standing down at the opposite end of the hallway. No doubt he was coming to see her. He was staring at you, looking worried. You feel your heart harden, not wanting to give him or her the satisfaction of seeing you hurt. You push back the sob, desperately wanting to escape your throat. “Ser Criston, do you mind escorting me to the queen's chambers?”

“Of course, princess.”

—

“How could she betray me in such a way?”

Alicent wraps her around your shoulder; she seems genuinely concerned about you. You had managed to maintain a smidgen of your dignity by holding your head high as you walked through the castle, ignoring all the side-eye glances and whispers going on around you. One of Alicent’s ladies-in-waiting brings in a tray of tea that’s supposed to help calm nerves.

“Prin-”

“Ivory,” you correct with a weak smile.

Lord Strong nods, “Ivory, I am ashamed to admit that rumors of my brother's betrayal had reached me long ago, but I assumed there was no truth to it. It wasn’t until I learned about the incident in the training yard this morning that I came to realize it was true.”

You had spent the last year defending Rhaenyra and Harwin, insisting that Jacaerys and Lucerys weren’t fathered by your husband before you were married. Because of your age, you had yet to lay with Harwin, and you thought if he was going to stray, it would be in the streets of silk, not with your own flesh and blood.

“She swore to me in our mothers names that they were Ser Lenors true-born sons. How could I have been so foolish?”

“You aren’t foolish, my sweet.” Alicent picks up a cup of tea and hands it to you, giving you a sympathetic look as she notices your hands trembling. “You have been deceived, and I can only imagine what Viserys will have to say when he finds out.”

You shake your head. It was widely known that Rhaenyra was your father's favorite, and learning what she was really like could be the thing that breaks him. “My love for my father is the only thing keeping me quiet. He is sick; finding out the truth about what Rhaenyra has done might be the thing that kills him, and we do not want him to suffer. If I’m being honest, I don’t know what to do.”

“I find that praying helps me find clarity and reassurance. I pray to the mother nightly; you can join me if you wish.”

“Perhaps I should pray to the warrior as well as the mother.” You chuckle lightly. “I could really use the gods' strength and courage."

—

After visiting the sept the night previously, the queen had arranged for you to stay in a separate bedchamber for the night since your quarter was beside Rhaenyra’s.

In the morning, Ser Criston escorted you back to your quarters; with him by your side, nobody dared approach you. The knight made pleasant small talk and even managed to make you laugh. When you reach your quarters, you thank him before walking into your bedchamber. You sit down at your vanity and begin to unbraid your hair, only stopping when you hear the door opening.

“Flora?” You call out, hoping to see your lady in waiting, who has become a close friend over the years. “Flora, is that you?”

When you turn around, you’re stunned to see Rhaenyra and Harwin. At first, you were afraid that the sight of them would upset you, but now, as you sit in front of them, all you feel is anger.

You say nothing; you turn your back on them and shift your attention to taking the remainder of your braids out. You push down the lump forming in your throat when Rhaenyra kneels down beside you with tears in her eyes. You pretend she isn’t even there and get up to go pick a dress to wear once you are bathed.

“Ivory! Ivory, please,” Rhaenyra begs. “It happened before you were betrothed! I never wanted you to find out like this. Sister, please! Just let me explain!”

You had fully intended to continue giving her the cold shoulder, but hearing the word sister caused you to snap. You can’t believe she had the nerve to call you that. You spin around fast, and your expression pulls into one of anger and hurt as you snap, “Don’t call me that again.”

Rhaenyra steps back as if you’d struck her.

Harwin says, “I am sincerely sorry for betraying your trust.”

You scoff, annoyed that he seems upset when it’s you that should be hurt by his dishonorable actions. “Until such a time that I am of age to perform my duty as princess and your wife, I don’t think we need to speak again.”

“Ivory…”

“You may leave, Ser Harwin.”

When the knight leaves, you turn to face your sister, whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, which angers you further. “Since the day Jace was born, I have loved him; the same is true of Luke. You’ve watched me play with them and sing to them. I’ve basically grown up with them, and not once did you ever think to tell me they were fathered by Harwin.”

“I tried to spare you the pain of knowing the truth.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips. “You must really hate me.”

She squeezes her eyes shut as more tears roll down her cheeks. “I love you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve always looked up to you; I wanted to be just like you. My perfect big sister.” You shake your head, backing away from her slightly when she reaches for you. “Do not touch me.”

"When my father told me about his plans for you and Harwin to wed, I tried to stop the betrothal; I really did.”

“I believe you,” you say, wiping away more fallen tears. You hardly knew Harwin; he would occasionally accompany you on walks around the garden, and nothing more than a kiss on the back of the hand was shared between you, but he was still your husband. “Both Jacaerys and Lucerys were born before the betrothal; I would have easily looked past that and done everything I could to help protect them. But Joffrey, he’s only a few days old. Even after I married Harwin, you continued to have an affair with him.”

You see guilt pass over her features before she drops her gaze to the floor and says, “I’m sorry.”

“I still love my nephews; that will never change, but I can’t be around them right now. Not after knowing what I know, it will just be a constant reminder."

“Of my betrayal.” Rhaenyra takes a deep breath; red patches have appeared across her neck and chest. “I hope one day you can forgive me.”

When Rhaenyra leaves the room, you throw yourself onto your bed, pull your pillow to your face, and sob into it. This was too much pressure for a girl of one and five to bear.

When someone knocks at your door, you groan a little, assuming Harwin or Rhaenyra had come back. “Go away,” you mumble into your pillow. You lift your head to tell them to go away, but change your mind when you see who it is “Aegon, what are you doing here?”

He avoids looking you in the eye and shrugs. “My mother said you were upset.”

“So you came to check on me?”

You weren’t much older than Aegon; before you had even celebrated your first name day, your father had remarried, and Queen Alicent was pregnant. You were surprised to see Aegon, considering he didn’t spend much time with any of your siblings.

He rolls his eyes and says, “No.”

“Oh, then what are you doing here?”

“Wanted to know if you’d like to go dragon riding together.”

You smile and say, “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

Aegon on Sunfyre and you on Ghost were exactly what you needed to take your mind off everything else that was going on.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #Aegon II Targaryen/you #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii fic #ghosts in the sky #aegon ii targaryen x oc #Aegon II Targaryen/oc #Aegon II Targaryen x fem oc #aegon ii x oc #aegon targaryen x oc #Aegon Targaryen x fem oc

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justinalovee · 9 months

Text

𝑴𝒖ñ𝒂

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen × Reader × Helena

Targaryen

Word Count: 847

Warnings: Incest, breastfeeding kink, fingering, thigh riding, kink shame

Summary: Aegon comes to realise he has a breastfeeding kink

A/N: All characters are 18+! minors DNI. I’ve decided to split this into two parts

The first time Aegon noticed the wet spots that your nipples had produced was early one morning when he felt you rustling beside him. You woke to the milk soaking through the fabric of your nightgown. As you were sleeping between Aegon and Helaena, it was impossible not to wake them. The sun shining into the room was enough for them to see the damp fabric of your clothing. You scoot to the bottom of the bed to remove the nightgown and change into a new one.

“Is that normal?” Aegon is alarmed. “Should I send for the maester?”

“She’s fine; her milk is just coming in,” Helaena says, yawning. She fluffs her pillow before laying her head back down on it.

Aegon looks up at you, confused. You smile at him. You place his hand on your swollen stomach and say, “My body is just getting ready for the baby.”

He says nothing but kisses your bump.

—

The second time Aegon noticed the milk coming from your teats was when he entered your shared bed chambers to see you riding Helaena. Your soaking core rubbed against her soft thigh, while one of her hands clasped at your bare ass while the other gripped your hip tightly, holding you in place.

You had been so caught up in chasing your high that you’d been oblivious to the small droplets of milk coming from you as Helaena sucked your breast into her mouth. It wasn’t until she leaned back and moved to suckle on the other that you noticed the milk still on her lips. She didn’t seem bothered by it, while Aegon stood frozen in place, watching.

Although watching his wives fucking always got him hard, Aegon felt something else as well. Jealousy. He wished to know how the milk coming from your perfect breast tastes.

—

The third time he noticed was when he assisted you while you bathed. Aegon listens as you complain of how sore and heavy your stomach and breasts felt while washing your back. Usually he would be sliding his fingers inside of you by this point, but his eyes kept lingering on your breasts, which kept leaking.

His cheeks flushed red whenever he noticed. At first, you thought he found it disgusting, but then you started to notice his dick always got hard. You wanted to mention it but didn’t want to risk embarrassing Aegon, knowing how shy he could be about certain things.

You made a mental note to try to find a way to test your theory that Aegon had a breastfeeding kink without actually mentioning it.

You bounce up and down on Aegon's cock, enjoying the pleasurable sting of his cock stretching your cunt to fit him. If it weren’t for Helaena clashing her lips against your own, you were sure the whole of the keep could hear your moans of pleasure.

“Bend over.”

Following your command, Helaena turned around and leaned down onto her elbows with her plump ass sticking up. The way she was bent gave you a full view of her glistening core. When she starts to rub at her clit, you slide your fingers along her folds a few times before thrusting two into her.

When your eyes move back to Aegon, you notice his gaze is on your breasts, which have started to leak again. Now or never. You tangle your free hand into his thick hair and motion for him to sit up. Gently kiss him on the lips before guiding his head to where you wanted it most. He looks up at you for permission. When you nod, Aegon wraps his lips around your hard nipple.

His thrusts become harder as he sucks every drop that he can from your breast. Helaena moans loudly as she brings herself to a climax on your fingers. You’d make up for your lack of effort later, as it was hard to be considerate of both of them at the same time. But Helaena held no ill will as she began to kiss the side of your neck as you held Aegon tightly.

Both of you came together quickly, and not long after, all three of you fell asleep.

—

Staring up at the ceiling, you feel Aegon shuffling beside you. You look at Helaena, who was sleeping peacefully beside you, hugging a pillow to her face as his shiny silver locks fell over it.

You whisper, “Aegon, are you awake?”

“Elena, you should be asleep.”

You roll onto your side so you can face him, and your noses brush together. “What’s keeping you up, my love?”

“… I’m ashamed that I enjoyed ‘it’ so much.”

Instantly, you know what he’s alluding to. You brush stray hairs behind his ear. “You shouldn’t feel any shame.” Seeing his lilac eyes linger on Helaena, you decide not to go any further into the conversation just now. “We can talk about it further in the morning, if you like.”

Aegon nods; he cuddles in closer, resting his hand on your swollen bump before trying to fall asleep.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #aegon targaryen x fem reader #Aegon Targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #aegon targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen #helaena targaryen smut #helaena targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x helaena targaryen

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amisa-k · 7 months

Text

their reactions to you teasing them with your foot under the table during dinner

part 1

part 2

aegon

can't wait for this boring feast to end, so he starts to drink a lot of wine. but when your foot under the table touches his leg, he instantly sobers up and looks at you with a smirk. will shamelessly tease you back.

aemond

tries not to show it, but you can see the tips of his ears turning red. his fingers grip the cutlery too tightly and he chews too hard. he will not let you get away with this and will play back as soon as there is an opportunity.

jacaerys

blushes instantly. not only his cheeks are red, but his whole face, ears and neck. tries to behave naturally, but he barely manages to suppress moans and ragged breath. comes up with some stupid excuse to leave dinner early and take you with him because he can't take your teasing anymore.

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tomriddleslovergirl · 5 months

Note

Hcs about how Aemond and Aegon(separate) would react to the reader running away and getting pretty far from Kings Landing? I really love your works btw.

Aemond and Aegon ii Targaryen’s reaction to You running away

Warnings: spoilers, possessiveness, murder

Word count: 1.3k

Aegon ii Targaryen:

Being a seamstress’s daughter, you helped your mother create dresses for Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent.

Your mother had been young when you both moved to King's Landing, having just given birth to you. She’d been close to Princess Rhaenyra, having conversations with each other when she was taking the Princess’s measurements.

As you got older, you helped your mother make dresses for the royal family.

When Rhaenyra moved to Driftmark with the rest of her family, you both were stuck making clothing for Queen Alicent and at times, the other royals.

Prince Aegon & you hadn’t met until it was around the time of his nameday.

Queen Alicent had chosen you and your mother to create a suit for Aegon, for him to wear on his nameday celebration.

Your mother put you on the job of taking the prince’s measurements.

Though Aegon was a bit drunk, he still found it in himself to flirt with you. You, of course, had politely tried to shut down Aegon’s advances, but you soon found yourself taken with him.

Your affair had begun from then on.

When King Viserys died, Aemond found Aegon in your bedroom, begging you to run away with him.

After Aegon was crowned king, your mother had forced you to quickly pack a bag with the items you needed before leaving the castle, saying she wouldn’t support and usurper as a king.

Hours after you left, Aegon had come to visit you.

Your door was open, which hadn’t alarmed Aegon until he walked into your room.

It was a mess.

Clothes were strewn on the floor, various fabrics and sewing supplies were left on chairs or tables.

The drunk prince sobered up when he realized quite a few of your personal items were missing.

Aegon called for his guards to go looking for you as he went to Alicent’s chambers.

When Aegon realized that you were missing, his mind jumped to two possibilities. One, that you had been taken as hostage by the blacks, since Aegon had never been quiet about his relationship with you. Or two, that his mother had something to do with you leaving.

Alicent had tried talking to Aegon before about ending his affair with you. Calling the relationship a disgrace and asking if he had no respect for his sister-wife. Saying that she was using him for his wealth.

Aegon had argued against her and in the end didn’t end his affair with you.

Now, Aegon thought that she may have paid you off to leave King's Landing.

Once he had gotten to her chambers, it was clear to Alicent that something was wrong with Aegon. His cheeks were red and he looked to be in a rush.

When Aegon asked if she had anything to do with your disappearance, she denied it, but said it was good that you were gone. That you would have been nothing but trouble.

Aegon believed her, though defended you when she insulted you.

Over the next couple of days Aegon had been drinking more since your disappearance. When you were still here, he would help him with his drinking problems, but now that you were gone, he had fallen back into his hole of depression.

Since you were gone, Aegon found himself missing you more and more. He got out of bed and walked —or more like stumbled —to your room.

Guards followed him. There were more of them since the war between the blacks and the greens.

He lay down on your bed and breathed it in. It still smelt like you.

Aegon was about to cry over you, when he noticed a small paper half covered by one of the pillows on your bed.

He grabbed it and read through it.

The letter was written in an obvious hurry, the writing messy & jumbled.

In the letter it said that your mother was making you leave King’s Landing in support of his half sister Rhaenyra. And — perhaps stupidly— you wrote that your mother was taking you to Essos.

He clenched the note in his hand. This meant you didn’t actually want to leave him right?

He felt anger towards your mother. She was the one who took you away from him

Aegon decided that he was going to get you back. It wasn’t going to be up for debate.

Aemond Targaryen:

Before the war with the Greens and the Blacks, your father had taken you to King’s Landing to meet Aemond Targaryen.

King Viserys had sent a letter, hoping that he would agree to betroth you to Aemond.

Your father, of course, had jumped at the chance to accept.

To marry a Targaryen would be an honor, he had told you.

You had found yourself upset that you would be forced to marry, but he convinced you to stay on your best behavior.

A celebration was thrown for you & your father.

Your house was quite respectable and wealthy, as you were known for your silk.

You met Aemond at the dinner party, and were surprised by how respectable he was. And you weren't going to lie, he was nice to look at.

You had heard stories about how unattractive the prince was, but you disagreed.

And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you felt your cheeks heat up when the prince kissed your hand.

During the whole celebration, Aemond was respectful and seemed kind. And you thought that you both seemed to get along just fine.

There was no doubt in your head that you were going to get betrothed after that night.

For the rest of the time you were to spend in King’s Landing, Aemond had courted you.

You both would have tea together while being supervised, and spend time in the library.

Aemond was intelligent. That much was obvious.

You would watch as he trained using his sword & Aemond himself found that he was taken by you.

You didn’t shy away from his gaze like the other ladies-in-court have.

You were intelligent yourself & were eager for him to teach you High Valyrian.

You both got married not long after.

Once the war Between The Blacks & The Greens had begun, you had begun to worry quite a bit over Aemond.

The war had truly begun when Aemond had killed Lucerys Velaryon.

He had claimed it was an accident, while Alicent & Otto had reprimanded him.

Though conflicted, you had decided to believe Aemond when he said it was an accident.

Later on into the war, Aemond was sent to retake Harrenhal.

Once word got back to you that Aemond had ordered the executions of The Strongs, you felt disgusted.

He ordered the death of innocent women & children.

You began to question if the murder of Lucerys was truly an accident.

The more you thought about Aemond, the more you were disgusted by him.

War had changed him. Or had he always been like that?

You decided you were going to leave. You couldn’t share a bed with a man who didn’t think twice about ordering the deaths of children.

It wasn’t as difficult as one would think to leave the castle.

Aemond had taught you about the hidden passages & the layout of them.

You packed a bag and stuffed a pouch with as much gold and diamonds that would fit in it. You put on some of your valuable jewelry as well, in case of an emergency and you need to sell them.

You put on a cloak and grabbed your bag and left, taking a ship to Dorne.

Once Aemond had heard about your disappearance, he returned to King’s Landing as fast as he could, putting Ser Criston Cole in charge of Harrenhal.

Once he had returned to King’s Landing, he hurried to your shared chambers to make sure that what he had heard was true. And it was. You wear no longer in your chambers.

Had someone snuck into the castle and taken you hostage? It was possible.

He soon noticed that some of your jewelry and dresses were gone.

Had you left? To go where? It wouldn’t be to visit your parents. You were far too smart for that.

Aemond Targaryen’s wife was missing and he was going to find you.

And once he does, he was going to make sure you weren’t going to leave him again.

#aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Aegon Targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #Aegon ii Targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aemond targaren x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x female reader

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elissanatok · 1 year

Text

-𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angst, fluff, shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

wordcount:

might do more parts to this

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

You and Aemond always had a complicated relationship. Growing up together there had been nothing he thought he could ever love more than you. He had always been possessive in a gentle way.

He loved to hug your smaller body until you smelled like him. He wanted to sleep with you, in the most innocent way a boy could think of. He wanted to twirl your brown locks in his fingers and see your eyes when you woke up. He loved to teach you all the things you didn't know yet. You were his and he was yours. That was the end of the story- to him.

You had always been a shy girl. Your lilac eyes often looking at the ground instead of the people. Being with people stressed you sometimes and letting them near you even more. But you knew Aemond, he was family after all. And he had never, one day in his life, treated you like anything but the future queen - that you weren't.

It had been a warm day, your red dress had felt entirely too warm. The hand holding Daemons had been sweating, making you rub it on the fabric of your clothes repeatedly. Still you were grinning up at him, giggling when he playfully shoved you again and again. He had never bothered treating you like anything but his own. You were his little sun.

But not only he and Aemond thought of you highly. Your brothers loved you like they thought no one else ever could. They were always protecting you, always touching you in a comforting way - and the white haired prince hated it.

He hated it when you were a little girl, and you only belonged to him in his mind and in the soft jokes of the royal family, who could see how taken the boy was with you, and he hated it years later, when you had returned to him.

Never had he thought a single look at you could still have this effect on him. He remembered the night things changed, when he lost his eye, when you left, crying and clawing at his Uncle's back, because you did not want things to change. That night you woke up to yelling in the halls. The sound of many voices frightened you, but you still followed them, hearing the names of your brothers and uncles. Your brown haired head glanced around the corner, your violet eyes searching for anybody you could cling to. But your eyes had fallen on the now one eyed prince instead. You gasped, tears already pooled in your eyes. “Come here little dragon.”Daemon called softly, but your feet took you straight to Aemond. He remembered how he turned his head away from you, from the look on your face that showed him you didn't understand anything. The next thing he remembered was the Queen coming at you with a knife. You screamed, trying to hide behind Aemond and Aegon.

You could see the regret on Alicents face the moment she realized she was going to hurt you. “Aemond.”, you cried after Aegon softly, quietly explained what had happened. The older prince looked ashamed, tired. But the younger prince, your Aemond wouldn't even look at you. And he regretted it shortly after, because he would not be able to look at you for a long time.

#aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fic #hotd #aegon ii targaryen x you #ewan mitchell #jacerys strong #aegon ii targaryen #aemond stannies #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you

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sapphire-writes · 7 months

Text

ceilings ~ modern!Aegon x Reader

summary: You and Aegon are friends, but there's always been something between you. This summer, it all comes to a breaking point.

warnings: 18+ (smut, fingering, oral fem receiving, p in v, kissing, semi-drunk s*x), drinking, partying, angst

word count: 4.8k

note: hi. uh oh. modern Egg angst. I hope you enjoy ❤️

masterlist

In a different world, you and Aegon Targaryen probably wouldn’t have been friends. You were different. He was reckless and careless; you were cautious and calculated.

If it weren’t for a minor run-in with the law, your paths wouldn’t have crossed at all. Lucky for him, the Targaryen family has a lot of connections. So when Aegon, at the ripe age of 16 decided to rob a liquor store, he was issued a slap on the wrist and community service.

Which led him straight to you.

Working with you, to be more specific. You had needed a summer job for some much-needed extra cash, and Aegon needed someone to sign off on his community service hours.

All the staff were your age, and you’d quickly bonded with everyone. Rhaena became one of your closest friends, along with Aegon. You’re not sure how exactly you became friends; most likely he told some tasteless joke you’d scolded him for which in return caused him to say something even raunchier just so you’d keep paying attention to him.

Aegon Targaryen was nothing if not a negative attention seeker. You’d fallen into that dynamic rather quickly, Aegon poking you, you poking back. It was gentle, playful even.

In the middle of that summer, after a drunken night at Danny Greyjoys, you’d received a text from Aegon long after the party ended. You’d introduced him to your friend Sara who you brought along, and he’d appeared to hit it off with her.

Give me Sara’s number, he’d sent, she’s super cute.

You’d rolled your eyes, watching more bubbles appear on the screen.

But also I’ve kind of been in love with you since the beginning of the summer, he wrote.

Your heart stopped. The bubbles came back—then disappeared. Then came back.

He didn’t send anything else.

You never talked about it.

In fact, you and Aegon moved on like he’d never sent it.

It was always hard to say goodbye to him at the end of the summer. While Rhaena and Sara joined you at the local high school, Aegon joined his siblings across the country at Dragonstone Academy.

But even after Aegon completed his community service, he kept coming back each summer. It wasn’t like he needed the money, his family was well off. He just liked the job, liked the company of his friends.

Liked you.

You’d dated a few coworkers on and off throughout the years. Cregan Stark, Will Tyrell. But Aegon you’d always seen as a friend. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Even when you’d accepted your college placements; Aegon at Citadel University, you at Winterfell State, you’d always return to King’s Landing in the summer months.

You’d always come back to each other.

Always teetering the line between friends and something else. Holding hands, cuddling, laughing, and joking, but nothing further.

Just friends.

Then, months into your junior year of college, Aegon’s dad died. You’d known he was sick for a while, a horrible slow deteriorating sort of death. But it still felt sudden. Like, the family had known he was going to die for so long, they almost forgot.

He’d been different this summer. More distant. Drinking more. You knew he was grieving still, even if the relationship with his father was strained. Relationships are complicated. And that was still his dad.

You’d sat in his car one night after work, just talking. He’d been tapping on the steering wheel with one hand, the other near his mouth as he worried the skin around his thumb with his teeth. A nervous habit.

“You know, you and Hel are the only ones I can talk to,” he’d admitted, referring to you and his sister, “No one else…no one else really understands.”

You’d taken his hand in yours, sitting in comfortable silence as the engine purred and the sky grew darker.

“I love you, Egg,” you’d told him, as you always did.

“I love you too,” he said back, the words falling easily from his lips.

Aegon was due to head back to Citadel University early the following week as summer came to its inevitable end. You’d all be parting ways soon enough, heading back to your college campuses for your final year of school. It was this fact that led Danny Greyjoy to insist on going out for drinks after work. A little hole-in-the-wall pub with darts and pool tables.

“We can go back to mine later,” Aegon had insisted, as you’d ordered another round of drinks, “Mum’s out of town on business.”

“Won’t Aemond mind?” Danny asked.

“He’s visiting his girlfriend,” Aegon insisted, “C’mon let’s get fucked up! Summer’s almost over.”

Danny agreed, shrugging and finishing his drink. Aegon had always been a bit of a party boy, but since the death of his father, you’d noticed an uptick in his recreational substance use. Alcohol; sometimes something harder. He’d shown up to work a few times violently hungover, or perhaps still intoxicated. You really couldn’t tell.

You worried about him.

You head to the bathroom to freshen up, fixing your mascara in the mirror when the bathroom door swings open and Aegon pushes inside. He’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he digs in his pocket, pressing his back against the door. You narrow your eyes, attempting to move past him but he blocks your path.

“Stop it you weirdo,” you joke, laughing at his antics.

“Take this with me, c’mon,” Aegon teases, revealing two nips from his pocket.

“I fucking hate Mcgillicuddy,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at the clear bottle with its bright green label.

“Pussy,” he goads, smiling showing all his perfect teeth.

Your heart skips a beat, as usual, and you snatch the bottle from him. You narrow your eyes as you crack the seal, before holding it between your teeth as you tilt your head back. The menthol-flavored liquor burns a path down your throat and a feeling of warmth blooms in your chest.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, taking his own and mimicking your movement.

You cough slightly, watching his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. He discards the empty bottle, reaching for yours.

“You’re coming to the after-party, right?” he asks, his Cheshire grin still on his face.

“I don’t know,” you tell him.

“C’mon,” he pleads, “It’s one of my last nights, I’ve barely spent any time with you.”

You smile slightly. Not a complete lie. Aegon spent the better half of the summer chasing Aliandra Martell like a lost puppy. They had a brief, passionate affair that fizzled out rather quickly as she returned to Sunspear the previous week.

“And who’s fault is that?” you tease, “If you weren’t so preoccupied….”

Aegon lurches forward, grappling at your waist, tickling your side. You squeal, pulling yourself away from his grabbing hands, cheeks burning.

“Fuck off,” he interrupts, looking at you with more intensity in his violet eyes, “Please come.”

Something in the air crackles between you. A new wave of energy.

“Alright,” you tell him, “For a little bit.”

“You bitch!” Rhaena screams, trampling you in a hug as you arrive at Aegon’s.

She’s already had a few drinks; dirty Shirley Temples most likely. Rhaena has one hell of a sweet tooth. She smiles, her lips slightly tinged red from the grenadine.

“I didn’t know you were coming, I thought you wanted to sleep,” she says, only slurring a few words.

You hold onto her, giggling at her carefree state. Rhaena is usually so poised and collected.

“Egg made me,” you tell her, “Where is the bastard?”

“Living room!” Rhaena giggles, “You look so cute!”

You glance down at your jeans shorts and the small black top you’d chosen. Going out top, Sara calls it. You’d gone home to change before heading over to the Targaryen-Hightower mansion.

“Thanks, Rhae,” you tell her, as she places a sticky kiss on your cheek.

Moving past some people, primarily acquaintances and other coworkers, you make your way into the living room. The music is blasting, people lounging on the couches and sitting on the floor playing some sort of drinking game. A table has been set up, and you spot Jace and Cregan engaged in a game of beer pong. Multicolored lights flash around the room bathing everyone in a kaleidoscope of colors.

Aegon sits on the couch furthest across the room between two girls; a blonde and a brunette you don’t recognize. They’re curled into him, laughing at something he says. His eyes meet yours from across the room, lighting up as he recognizes you. You walk over, shaking your head at him. So broken up over Aliandra, it seems. You laugh, rolling your eyes before standing in front of him as he reaches for your hand.

He calls your name over the music as his fingers lace through yours. His eyes are red, you’d assumed he’d been drinking more since leaving the bar from the incoherence of his texts to you. Aegon was quite impatient as you went home to change, your phone dinging continuously from his texts.

“You started without me?” you tease, and he tugs on your arm, pulling you closer.

Aegon leans forward, pushing his back off of the couch. Your eyebrows cinch together as he pulls you closer, face nearing your own. Heart racing, realizing what is about to happen as your faces come closer; So close you’re able to count each of his silver lashes framing those violet eyes.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you blurt out, seconds before he does.

Aegon’s lips are soft and warm, his tongue parts your lips before dipping inside of your mouth. He tastes like vodka, like summer, like…

You pull away, and he lets go of your hand, falling back onto the couch, looking up at you through hooded eyes. The blonde next to him continues talking, as though nothing had happened. Aegon turns to her, smiling and continuing their conversation.

You’re not breathing; he stole the air from your lungs. You turn on your heel, heading straight to the kitchen. A bottle of tequila is the first thing you see among other various bottles and cups on the counter. You grab the bottle, taking a long swig, not caring who’d drunk from it before you. Your heart is beating erratically against your ribs.

Aegon just kissed you.

Aegon.

You take another swig before placing it on the counter.

Holy shit.

It’s the strangest feeling; like something that was meant to happen finally did. You’re stunned, standing stuck as Aegon enters the kitchen, moving by you and filling his cup with water from the sink. You march over to him as he turns on the faucet.

“Aegon,” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yes,” he says, glancing at you, turning off the faucet.

“You just kissed me,” you tell him.

“Mhmm,” he agrees, placing his cup on the counter, fingers curling along the edge of the sink. He stares forward like he’s contemplating something. How is he not freaking out as much as you are?

“You just kissed….me,” you repeat, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning forward and kissing you again.

His hand finds your waist, the other cradling your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You kiss him back this time, arching against him, tangling your fingers in his short silver hair. His tongue pushes past your lips and you sigh as it enters your mouth.

This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Yet you don’t really want to stop, not when his lips feel so soft and warm molded against your own, his palm moving to your lower back and then over the swell of your ass.

Then someone enters the kitchen and you pull away from each other quickly, as though someone physically pulled you both apart. It’s Sara and Cregan laughing about something. Cregan spots Aegon and clasps him on the shoulder before pulling him back toward the living room demanding he be his partner in beer pong.

Sara notices your flushed face and blissed-out, shocked expression. You reach for the tequila bottle again, taking another swig letting it burn trying to get the taste of Aegon out of your mouth. Her eyes narrow suspiciously as she comes closer.

“Whoa there,” Sara says, holding out her red solo cup, “You okay kid?”

Swallowing the mouthful of tequila you stick your tongue out at your friend.

“Aegon just kissed me.”

“Wait….what?” Sara asks, eyes wide.

You place the bottle on the counter and remove Sara’s cup before taking both her hands in yours.

“Aegon. Aegon just kissed me,” you repeat, staring deeply into her eyes.

“Okay….well,” Sara shuffles from one foot to the other and you frown.

“Well, what?”

“Did you like it?”

Fuck.

“Like it? Sara, he’s like one of my best friends here,” you tell her through a forced chuckle.

“Oh c’mon. You and Egg have had this tension for years. Like yeah, you’re friends but…friends don’t look at friends the way Aegon looks at you,” she says while reaching for her cup and taking a sip.

Your heart pounds as you think about it. All these years, the harmless flirting. The love confession. That weird feeling in the pit of your stomach every time he was with Ali.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell her, shaking your head.

“Liar,” she calls you out, “And don’t think I don’t see how you look at him. The whole Ali thing this summer?”

“What?!”

“Girl, you were jealous,” she says, exasperated, “Jealous of her being with Egg.”

Okay, so maybe you had been a little jealous.

“I mean…I don’t know,” you admit.

“Do not tell me you haven’t thought about it,” Sara tells you, “The boy’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”

“Okay stop,” you tell her, face warming, “I don’t…I don’t know what to do…he’s going through it right now and he’s leaving soon. I just…I don’t think it’s the right time.”

Sara scrunches her nose, making a face.

“Looks like Egg thinks it is,” she challenges.

You suck your lower lip between your teeth, unable to rid yourself of the feeling of his kiss.

“Look, whatever happens,” Sara says, reaching out to touch your arm, “I think you should go for it. If that’s what you want.”

That’s always the question, isn’t it?

What do you want?

There are no more surprise kisses as the night goes on. You play games, drink cheap liquor to get a little buzzed and laugh with your friends. You catch his eye briefly from across the room but nothing more. Helaena arrives at one point with her girlfriend Cerelle, blissfully stoned out of her mind and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek in greeting.

People filter in and out as the night wears on. Rhaena is in no condition to drive home, and you hate driving home this late. You, Sara, Rhaena, and Cregan all decide to spend the night, fighting over which couch everyone will sleep on. Rhaena curls up on one with Sara, their legs intertwined.

Cregan mumbles something about taking the floor, offering you the other.

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods, scratching the back of his neck, “You’re a gem.”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, finding a spot on the floor.

You giggle softly, heading to the kitchen for more water. You hate hangovers and paced yourself rather well this evening, making sure to drink plenty of water between drinks. Your buzz is already fading as you fill your cup.

You take a big sip, draining it halfway before filling it to the top again. You know you’ll be desperate for water in the morning and want to keep a full glass beside you. Plus, if Rhaena wakes up needing some you can offer her your cup. You shut the faucet, turning around and meeting the eyes of Aegon. Your heart skips a beat. You’d thought he’d gone to bed.

“Hey,” you tell him, placing your cup on the counter, “Listen…Egg….”

He moves towards you, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you in for a heated kiss. You kiss him back and it’s different this time. He tastes like water this time around, his movements less sloppy, more controlled.

He’s sobered up, you realize as he moans against your mouth.

Everyone’s gone home. Everyone’s asleep. It’s just you and him.

He backs up, taking you with him, and dragging you down the hall. His hand laces through yours as he guides you into the hallway and into a room. His room.

The door shuts behind you and you keep kissing him, keep fisting the front of his shirt as he backs up knees hitting the bed and sitting down.

You straddle his lap easily, as though you’d done it several times before. His hands move to your waist before dropping lower to palm your ass. You roll your hips against him as he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh.

Your hands loop around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Reluctantly, you pull away from his greedy mouth as his hands fall to your jean shorts, unbuttoning them and pulling down your fly.

“Are you sure?” you breathe, nose pressed against his cheek.

Aegon’s breathing is shallow, one hand still firmly on your ass as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“I’ve wanted this since forever,” he admits, sending butterflies fluttering in your belly.

He waits, not moving his hand; not going any further but also not taking any steps back.

“Me too,” you whisper and he presses his lips to yours once more.

The kiss is hungry, stoking a fire of need deep in your belly. Aegon’s hand brushes against your lower stomach and the muscles of your abdomen contract as he breaches the band of your underwear. Fingers dipping lower, he circles your clit already wet and sensitive from your heavy makeout.

“Seven hells,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you manage to squeak as Aegon sinks two fingers into your wet heat, curling them inside you.

He moves his fingers in and out at a torturously slow pace, the heel of his palm grazing against your clit with every thrust.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he comments, kissing you once more as you grind down against his hand.

A whine slips past your lips as his lips move to caress your jaw, before kissing a hot trail down your neck. You can feel his smile against you as he speaks, “Shhh don’t wanna wake anyone, do we?”

He’s cruel with his comment, the pads of his fingers rubbing perfectly against your sweet spot sending sparks of pleasure down your legs all the way to your toes. Your eyes squeeze shut and you clench around his fingers causing him to chuckle.

“That feel good?” he asks, kissing right below your ear.

“Yes, feels s’good,” you mumble, fisting his hair harshly. Aegon groans as you ride his fingers, chasing the release building in your abdomen.

Each curl of his fingers stokes a fire in your belly, and soon you’re trembling on top of him, falling apart as he silences your desperate cries with a kiss. Gently removing his fingers from your slick entrance he flips you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He pulls your shorts and underwear off in one fluid motion, tossing them to a corner of the room.

“D’you have a condom?” you ask breathlessly as you yank your tank top over your head. You unclasp your bra as Aegon removes his shirt, his violet eyes hungrily eying your freed breasts.

You rest back on your elbows as he watches you. “Egg?”

His eyes snap back up to yours before he grips underneath your thighs pulling you toward him, “Sorry, yes, fuck,” he says, kissing your inner thigh, “Have to taste you first, please.”

Your face is on fire but you nod at his pleading as he buries his face in between your thighs. Aegon licks a thick stripe up your drenched slit, swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. You throw your head back against the pillow as he continues to feast on you, alternating between dipping his tongue in your entrance and suckling on your clit.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss through clenched teeth, “So fucking good Egg shit--”

He moans against you, fingers digging into your thighs and soon your legs are shaking around his head, trapping him between your thighs as you come with a muffled cry. Aegon crawls back on top of you, kissing you fervently, the taste of you fresh on his tongue. You scratch down his back, pull him as close as you can to you.

“Condom,” you gasp, feeling the hardness between his legs pressing as you through his jeans, “I need you--”

“Right here,” he says, leaning to his nightstand. He yanks the drawer open so hard, it crashes to the floor with a thud. You both freeze before descending into giggles.

“Shhh,” he cautions and you cover your mouth as your laughter continues, “Seven hells--” he reaches to the floor retrieving a condom.

“Stop it,” he says with a smile, removing your hand to kiss you again.

“M’sorry,” you mumble, trying to hold in your laughter.

Aegon slips his jeans down, followed quickly by his boxers freeing his long, hard cock. The tip is flushed pink, weeping precum as he lazily strokes himself. You wet your lips as he tears open the condom wrapper, rolling it down his generous length. Once he’s done, you’re quick to pull him back into a kiss, feeling his heavy cock slap against your inner thigh.

“You’re sure?” you ask again, and Aegon nods.

“I’m sure,” he confirms, “Fuck, are…are you?”

“Yes,” you tell him, reaching to guide him toward your aching center, “Yes, I’m sure.”

He sinks inside your tight, waiting pussy and you gasp at the way he stretches you out. You’re so tight around him, it’s nearly painful for a moment as you adjust to his girth.

“Fuck,” you hiss as he bottoms out, “Seven….”

“You okay?” he mumbles, placing a wet kiss on your neck.

“I’m good,” you confirm, fire blazing in your belly as he rolls his hips against you, stealing the breath from your lungs, “Gods…”

Aegon keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, you can feel his hot breath against your skin in between the kisses and love bites he adorns you with. Every rock of his hips winds the coil in your gut tighter and tighter until you feel as though you’re a bowstring about to snap.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he murmurs, “Want you to come again, baby, c’mon.”

Nails digging into his shoulders you’re thrown over the edge, the coil in your gut snapping as white-hot pleasure washes over you. Your pussy clenches, milking his cock for all its worth as you feel him twitch inside of you; Aegon moans as he reaches his own release.

You hold onto him for a moment, letting yourself bask in the pleasure he’s given you, feeling the weight of him resting on top of you, his softening cock still buried within you. Slowly, the tingling sensation of your orgasm begins to ebb, the sheen of sweat that coats your body causes you to shiver as you grow cold. Aegon rolls off of you, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He runs a hand through his hair, back still facing you.

You sit up, watching him, suddenly feeling very exposed in your naked state. Aegon removes the condom, ties it, and throws it in the trash can beside his bed. Then he reaches for a pair of shorts. Heat blooms in your cheeks as you rise, searching for your clothes.

Aegon doesn’t say anything, just watches you out of the corner of his eye. You grab your bra and shirt first, throwing them back on. Panic rises in your throat suddenly at what’s just happened.

Oh gods.

You’ve ruined everything, haven’t you?

Why isn’t he saying anything? Aegon stands, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re okay, right?” you nervously ask as you slip your shorts and underwear back on, “This won’t change anything, right?”

You can’t read his expression. He gives you a wry grin before nodding.

“Course not,” he says, grabbing your hand, “C’mere.”

He pulls you gently toward the bed. You curl up next to him, his arm underneath your head. He falls asleep first, you can hear his gentle snoring in your ear. You can’t sleep. You just stare up at the ceiling counting each inhale and exhale.

“Aegon?” you whisper, turning your head.

He doesn’t answer, still lost in sleep, and you’re left staring at the ceiling once more.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sara says the following morning.

You’d gone with Rhaena and Sara for breakfast, leaving the others behind. You had gotten up, returning to the living room before everyone else woke up. Cregan was the only one awake, eyes narrowing as you lay on the couch.

“Could’ve slept there,” he’d mumbled, before rolling over.

Rhaena is slumped over her eggs, rubbing her temples as Sara excitedly shouts as you reveal what happened.

“I’m serious,” you tell them.

“Was it good?”

“Yeah, it was good,” you confirm.

“What does this mean?” Rhaena asks with a groan, “Fuck I think I’m gonna be sick..”

“I mean, I think I need to talk to him,” you admit, “About…this.”

“Well, I have to go back to the house anyway to pick up Cregan,” Sara says, lacing her fingers together, “Come with and you can talk to him.”

Nervous anticipation pools in your belly.

“Okay,” you tell her.

After dropping Rhaena at home, you and Sara head back to the Targaryen mansion. It’s quiet when you arrive, walking in the door like you both live there. Helaena and Cerelle are curled up on the couch watching a movie.

“My brother still here?” Sara asks and Helaena raises her head from Cerelle’s lap.

“Mhmm, they’re in the pool,” she confirms, “Aegon tried to host a darty, not many people showed up yet though.”

“Of course he did,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Sara nods to you and you follow her to the back door. The Targaryen backyard is a prime party zone, with its waterfall pool, large stone patio, and massive green yard. You spot Cregan right away, tossing a cursing Aly Blackwood into the pool.

Your eyes scan over the dozen people before your heart drops into your stomach. Aegon’s in the pool as well, silver hair slicked back, a lopsided smile on his face. That’s not what makes your heart lurch, rather it's who is attached to him.

Cassandra Baratheon clad in a deep blue string bikini straddles his waist, playing with the sunglasses on his head. She takes them off, putting them on her own face before Aegon lifts her up, setting her on the edge of the pool. She giggles, hands on his shoulders before giving the sunglasses back. Aegon squeezes her thighs, no doubt leaving indentations of his fingers on her porcelain skin.

“Oh fuck,” Sara whispers, “Y/N…”

“What?” you ask, tearing your gaze away, “What? No…no it's fine… that's nothing. I’m good.”

Sara’s eyes are sad, “Honey…”

“Seriously, Sara, I’m good,” you insist, chest tight with emotion, “I’m just going to grab a water…”

“Give me five minutes,” Sara tells you, “Let me tell Cregan I’m taking you home.”

You give her a wordless nod as she moves toward her brother. You walk past the pool over to a cooler, grabbing water. The sun suddenly feels uncomfortably warm, a dull throbbing beginning behind your eyes.

Someone comes up next to you, reaching into the cooler. Aegon shakes his head, droplets of water flying this way and that. You stare at him, watching as he grabs a can of beer. He glances at you after cracking the can and taking a long sip.

“What?” he says. It’s friendly but different. There’s a new edge underneath the question.

Nothing will change, right?

Your throat tightens and you can feel tears prickling behind your eyes. Aegon just stares back, running a hand through his damp hair.

“Nothing,” you tell him, “I was just leaving.”

“You should stay for the party,” he suggests casually.

You gaze at him, searching his violet eyes for anything, anything at all.

“I’m tired,” you admit, “I’ll see you later.”

Aegon watches you leave, Sara wrapping her arm around your shoulders. There’s a moment of pause as the door closes behind you, and then Aegon finishes his drink and returns to the pool.

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spider-stark · 1 month

Text

THE CONQUEROR'S CROWN

Aegon II Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary - After being captured by a member of the Kingsguard on your way to Winterfell, Aegon calls for you in the throne room.

Warnings - light smut, oral, kidnapping, blades/blood, possible hematolagnia, eludes disappointed mom!rhaenyra (absolutely no bashing tho), and obvious incest

Word Count - 3.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

His tongue traces the subtle curve of his bottom lip, his lilac eyes watching carefully as you waltz into the throne room, escorted by Ser Willis to the base of the Iron Throne. With a slight nod of his head, he dismisses Ser Willis, leaving you to stand alone as the Kingsguard takes his leave.

You have stood in this very room more times than you could possibly count. Your childhood was spent chasing your brothers around the large stone pillars, studying the intricate weaving of the tapestries adorning the wall, and sitting upon your grandsire’s lap atop the Iron Throne.

You were born to stand within this room, born to sit the throne standing before you now. If you focused, you almost swore that you could hear your grandsire’s voice whispering in your ear, bouncing you on his leg as he vowed—someday, my sweet little dragon, all of this will be yours.

But, before it could become yours, it would first belong to your mother—the rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

And before it could be hers, you would have to kill the cunt that had stolen it out from under her.

You make a show of leaning into a melodramatic curtsy, playing up the role of his complaisant prisoner, “Your grace,” you practically snarl up at him, a silent challenge gleaming in your narrowed gaze.

Aegon sucks in a breath before hesitantly lifting his arms, gesturing to himself, “What do you think?” It was not the voice of a king that pierced your ears, but the voice of the same scared little boy you have always known—the one you have always loved.

A thousand jagged, twisted blades glimmer in the dim candlelight, all of them forged together to create the infamous throne that had started this godsforsaken war. Your throne, your mother’s throne—a throne that he now sat upon.

While there was no doubt that Aegon lacked the proper cadence, it was undeniable that he looked every bit like the king he pretended to be. Dressed in his finest clothing, woven from a deep-green material so dark that it nearly appeared as black at first glance. A circlet of Valyrian steel rests at his brow, embellished with glittering rubies; the Conqueror’s crown.

“I think,” you begin, holding your chin high, “that you are sitting in my mother’s chair.”

The blow wasn’t unexpected, yet Aegon’s jaw still tenses at the venom that laced each and every syllable.

He knew you would be upset with him—infuriated, actually. But expecting that anger and experiencing it were two very different things.

He wasn’t used to you being mad at him, and he didn’t like it.

Forcing himself to swallow back against the sea of emotions rising in his chest, Aegon pushes himself to his feet, careful not to nick himself on one of the jutting blades. He descends the steps with the same impressive swagger he’s always possessed, walking towards where you stood motionless at the base of the throne.

Your body stiffens at his approach, your muscles tightening, shoulders pulling back, fingers curling into fists. He notices, and you briefly remind him of a cornered animal—captured and awaiting a rescue that may never come, armed with nothing but brazen defiance.

Stopping less than a few inches from you, he realizes that this must make him the predator of your story. The big bad king, whose first act of war had been to steal away his precious little niece, unwilling to go even one more day without her by his side.

When he stretches a hand towards you, you’re smart enough not to recoil from his touch as he glides a finger along the fine silk of your skirts. “You wore it,” he mutters softly, admiring the rich green color of your dress.

“I wasn’t aware that I had a choice in the matter,” you retort swiftly, suddenly aware of the incessant pounding of your heart.

You hate yourself for wearing this—a gown that wasn’t entirely unlike the ones that the dowager Queen Alicent had worn from your entire life, the ones that had been marred by a color you learned to loathe.

But when a few handmaidens came pouring into the room in Maegor’s Holdfast where Aegon had kept you imprisoned for the last several days, you felt as though you had no say as they plunged you into a tub of steaming water, scrubbing your dirt-stained skin until it was raw, only to pull you back out and then wrap you in varying shades of emerald.

He pulls away from the fabric, giving you his usual pouty frown when he asks, “Why would you believe that you have no choice?”

The sheer innocence of his tone had you grinding your teeth. “Must I remind you, uncle?” He winces slightly, unused to the cruel formality with which you now speak. “Remind you of how you have stolen my mother’s birthright? Or of how you ordered your guard to steal me away, and throw me into the Holdfast? Of how you’re holding me prisoner in some desperate attempt to wound my mother-”

“I am not holding you to wound Rhaenyra,” her name sounds like poison on his lips, the taste of it vile on his tongue as he interjects, “nor are you here to be my prisoner, niece.”

Your brows rise alongside your voice as you shout, “Am I not? Then please, Aegon, enlighten me as to why you insist on keeping me here! Tell me why you have torn me away from my family and humiliated me!” You gesture down at your body, to the gown clinging to your curves.

Aegon’s answer came in the form of a growl, “Because you are mine to keep.”

His hands shoot to your wrists, tightly gripping your delicate flesh. A flicker of desire burns in his lilac gaze, a look that you are all too familiar with. It pierces through you, and you can do nothing but curse yourself as a warm feeling spreads throughout your body. “And I refused to sit idly by as your family sold my girl to whichever Lord had the biggest fucking army, auctioning you off like livestock so that they might acquire more men to fight in your mother’s war!”

Disdain laced the word—family.

He spoke it as if it were a plague, a curse, a weakness. But you didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, hidden emotion catching in his throat. You were his family; he had said so himself, repeating it often during your years spent together, sneaking through halls and hiding in shrouded alcoves.

You were his plague. You were his curse. And you were his only weakness, the only thing that could be held over him. The only thing that could make him yield.

It suddenly dawned on you how much it must have bothered him to learn that you were being escorted to Winterfell under the protection of two of your mother’s Queensguard, how infuriated he must have been to find out that your hand had been promised to Lord Cregan Stark in return for his aid. That was why he had sent Ser Willis after you—why he had him kill your mother’s men and bring you here.

Your mouth went dry as you dug your nails into your palms, unable to will yourself to pull your wrists from his touch. “This is your war, too,” you remind him, your voice softer than you wish it to be, your stare wide but never wavering from his.

Aegon shakes his head softly, wavy silver locks spilling over his delicate features. “No,” he tells you, releasing one wrist so that he can reach up and brush a finger along your cheekbone, “I have only ever been a pawn in this game, little love.”

A shiver rolls down your spine as his hand moves lower, his thumb trailing along your bottom lip, tracing the delicate curve.

“But you,” he drawls, his mouth curving into a lopsided smirk that had your pulse sputtering, “you were always meant to be a queen.”

His declaration only stirs confusion in your mind. Your brow creases and you blink at him once, then twice. “What is it that you want, Aeg?”

A sweet sound escapes his throat, a low hum of satisfaction at the simple pet name rolling from your tongue. Your voice was still sharp, still guarded—but all he had needed was that one subtle show of affection to know that you were listening, that you were willing to hear him out.

His thumb tugs at your bottom lip, pulling it ever-so-slightly and revealing a gleam of white teeth. Sensible enough to recognize that Aegon was supposed to be your enemy now, and not your secret lover, you gnash your teeth at him. The display only makes his grin grow wider, a foolish sense of hunger turning his usually pale complexion to a light shade of crimson.

“I want to make you queen,” he purrs, letting his touch fall from your face as he lets go off your other wrist, stepping to the side. He sweeps an arm out to one side, gesturing grandly towards the throne before you. “My queen.”

You feel disoriented, like the room around you is suddenly spinning in circles. A fuzzy feeling settles in your stomach as your gaze flickers from the throne, to Aegon, then back to the throne again.

The look on your face must be one of pure disbelief, as Aegon appears to be laughing at the shock morphing your features.

“But…” You take a series of shallow breaths, shaking your head as you force yourself to ignore the throne, turning back to focus only on Aegon. “But my mother is the rightful queen, not me—not yet!” You object, stuttering over your words as they spill out.

This doesn’t make sense…

The Greens would never allow this!

“Queen Alicent,” you sputter out, realization dawning on you, “and your grandsire, they… They don’t know that I am here, do they? They don’t know that you captured me?”

The pieces began to fall into place in your mind, filling in the gaps of a very long and complicated story. The reason why Aegon had only sent one of the Kingsguard after you, why you had been thrown in the Holdfast rather than the dungeons, why he had waited until the hour of the wolf to finally call for you, having you brought to throne room only once he was certain that it was abandoned for the night.

Aegon hadn’t just captured you. He had kept you hidden—hidden from Alicent and Ott0.

He gives a single, gentle nod as he says, “You, my sweet girl, have become my best kept secret,” there’s a certain eagerness in the way he is looking at you, greedy and expectant, as if he were awaiting praise for his scheme.

“I cannot give your mother my throne, not without risking my own head,” Aegon reaches for your hand once more, and you allow him to lace his fingers through yours, even as you scowl at the possessive language he used—his throne. “But I can give it to you.”

You feel unsteady as you glance down at your joined hands; his grip was tight, while yours was limp—allowing the show of affection, but not returning it.

You draw a breath, “And you plan to do this by… By making me your wife?” Nerves had your voice jumping an octave, and you curse the Warrior for not granting you enough strength to maintain an even tone.

The shift in Aegon’s expression was tenuous, but you knew him well enough to catch even the most subtle changes. You noticed the way his lilac eyes shifted to his feet, the way his bottom lip trembled as his fear of rejection pierced through his chest like a knife.

It was second nature to want to comfort him, to want to reach out as you used to, brushing the messy waves of silver from his face, reminding him that you wanted him in ways that you could never want another.

You resist the urge as best you can, but you cannot stop your fingers from finally curling around his hand, squeezing before you can stop yourself. When he looked back up at you, it was with a look of foolish hope.

“It might be an ignorant plan,” he admits, “but the realm doesn’t need a puppet for a king. It needs you—an iron-willed girl, born for an iron throne.”

It’s not the right choice.

And you know that if your mother were here, she would be disappointed in you for considering such a proposal. If Daemon were here, he would cut you down himself, spouting out allegations of treason over your still-cooling corpse. Jace and Luke would hardly be able to look you in the eye, you reckon, if they found out of your feelings for the uncle they both loathed so desperately.

This wasn’t the right choice, because before the throne should belong to you, it must first belong to your mother, the rightful heir.

And yet…

To take the throne now, to take advantage of the opportunity Aegon has offered, would be seizing a chance to deliver the throne to the Blacks. Taking the throne did not mean that you must keep it—only that you might hold onto it until it could be passed over to your mother; only that you might offer her a clear path to it.

And marrying Aegon…

Marrying Aegon was the culmination of all your wildest dreams, of all of your secret wishes and most desperate desires.

“If you wish to say no,” his voice wobbles, his eyes squeezing shut as he prepares himself for your answer; for your refusal. “Then I will allow you to leave. I refuse to deliver you to Winterfell, but I will arrange for a guard to escort you to Harrenhal. I’ve heard word that Daemon has-”

You refuse.

Refuse to let him finish speaking, having decided that you had heard more than enough to make your decision, unable to care if it is the right one.

In a brief moment of reckless abandon, you tug on his hand hard enough to send him stumbling towards you, his bright eyes shooting open just in time to watch as you rise on your toes, bringing your lips to crash against his.

His muscles went rigid, eyes remaining wide-open as he felt your other hand slip into his hair, tangling your fingers in his messy locks, your nails scraping lightly against his scalp.

Slowly, he relaxes. Slowly, he melts into the touch that he had missed so much, the one that he had dreamt about every night for the past several months that he had been forced to spend without you.

Muscle memory kicks in, his body abruptly remembering all of your secret encounters over the years, reminding him of all the little ways that you liked being touched, of all the ways that he could drive you wild.

He pulls his hand loose from yours, his palm instantly collided with the outside of your thigh. His fingers knot in the silky fabric of your dress, pulling it higher and higher, until he’s finally able to press his palm flat against the warmth of your skin, sinking his nails into the plump flesh.

“I’ve missed you,” he utters against your mouth, his voice so guttural and delicious that you nearly moan. His other hand slips beneath the fabric as well, ghosting past your abdomen to greedily paw at your chest, “And these,”

A ragged gasp slips from your lips as he kneads your breast. You pull away from his kiss, your head tilting back and exposing your throat as you indulge yourself in the feeling of his hands roaming against your bare skin. His sweet, pouty lips instantly find their way to your neck, suckling and kissing at the sensitive skin.

“Greedy,” you chide, the euphoria flooding your veins leaving you breathless.

“Should I take this as a yes, then?” He croons against your flesh.

You wish to be bold in your response, derisive, even; but as his tongue glides along the smooth column of your throat, you can’t bring yourself to sound anything other than desperate.

“Fuck—yes,” you practically moan the affirmation, yanking his hair and making him hiss.

“In that case,” Aegon’s lips curve into a playful arc, placing another kiss against your throat before saying, “allow me to show you to your throne, my queen.”

The whine that escapes you when he pulls his touch from your skin is something vulgar, and you don’t miss the smug expression that settles on his face. He’s pleased with himself, and you’re not surprised. After all, he had just barely touched you and you were already writhing against him, your months apart having left you so needy that you were mere seconds from begging him to take you right here on the floor of the throne room.

Before you can complain, his hand is swiftly slipping back into yours, tugging you up the stairs leading to the throne. When you reach the top, he motions you to sit.

There is something different about sitting on the throne now compared to when you were a girl—a certain power that warms your veins, sending your blood rushing to your cheeks. There is no time to ponder on the feeling, however; not when Aegon is sinking down to his knees the very moment you settle against the cool steel.

“What are you doing?” You’re practically panting when you ask the question, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you watch him, intrigued.

He’s still wearing a smirk when he lifts a hand, plucking the steel circlet from his brow before stretching out his arm and urging you to lean down just enough for him to place it on your head.

The Conqueror’s crown is nearly too big for you and sits askew, but neither of you seem to care about that as he immediately gets back to work, shoving the delicate fabric of your dress back up your legs.

“Swearing fealty to my queen,” Aegon finally answers, his lips ghosting against the side of your knee. “Taking care of you,” he continues, peppering light kisses along the inside of your leg, moving at a tantalizingly slow rate until he finally reaches the top of your thigh. “And eating as though I were a starved man.”

With no warning, he places his lips against your core, his greedy tongue already swiping against your folds. You fight the urge to throw your head back at the sensation of his warm mouth, trying to remain conscious of the jagged blades that surround you.

You can hardly breathe.

You can hardly think.

You can hardly do anything other than gasp as his palms squeeze against your legs, his nails digging into your skin as he forces them apart, keeping you from squeezing them shut as he devours you.

Shoving one of your legs over his shoulder, his right hand slips from your thigh to begin toying with your entrance, and the way you squirm against his touch only encourages him to shove two fingers inside of you. A lewd sound pours from your mouth, echoing so loudly amidst the throne room that you worry someone might hear and come find the two of you.

As his thick fingers plunge in-and-out of you, his tongue circling your clit, you grip the arms of the Iron Throne without thinking—a yelp tears from your throat as one of the blades slice into your palm.

“Shit!” You hiss, the pain in your voice urging Aegon to pause, his mouth shimmering with slickness as he looks up at you, watching as the blood trickles down your wrist.

His pupils flare, darkness overtaking the lilac in his eyes.

Reaching up, Aegon mimics your accidental movement, allowing one of the jagged blades to tear into his palm, too. “Hen lantoti ānogar,” he mutters the familiar Valyrian vows as he reaches for your hand, his pronunciation sloppy, but his voice tinged with undeniable admiration, “va sȳndroti vāedroma,”

(translation: blood of two, joined as one)

He presses your hands together, and his fingers intertwine with yours as the still-flowing blood begins to mix, binding the two of you together in a bond that transcends all else, uniting the two of you in an oath that could never be broken—not by your family, not by war, not even by death.

Getting lost in his eyes, feeling his blood drip down your arm, you find yourself praying to any God that might listen.

Not for absolution, disinterested in the thought of receiving forgiveness for the betrayal you commit against your mother by even sitting in Aegon’s presence.

But for strength.

Enough of it so that you might be able to play the role of the Green Queen, a gift bestowed upon you by Aegon. Enough of it so that you might grant your mother the victory she desires, the one she deserves. Enough of it so that you might be able to paint the walls red with the vile blood of the Greens.

Enough of it so that you might become their demise.

a/n - considering that I wrote this while sleep-deprived at one am, it actually turned out pretty alright lmao. still can't write smut but o well.

aegon looks pretty in the new trailer <3

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officialaemondtargaryen · 1 month

Text

From Her Knees

❝either we're smoking, or we're drinking, or we're at each other's throats. ❞

Summary: You're in a toxic relationship with Aegon.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Unnamed Female Character (no Y/N)

Word Count: ~1.5 k

Author’s Note: This is a rewrite of an old fic for a different character, but it fits Aegon so well that I had to write it for him. I hope that you enjoy it! As always your support through a reblog or comment is appreciated!

Warnings: alcohol use, language, p in v intercourse, oral (m receiving), mentions of previous domestic abuse, they are so bad for each other.

“You don’t do anything, Aegon!”

That was true.

The words she screamed at him usually were. He knew that, of course. That’s why it pissed him off so much. She was always right and she rubbed it in his face every single time. He had been home less than an hour after the shittiest day and she was already gunning for him.

“When am I ever here?” He spat. “I’m never fucking here! And when I am here, I have to listen to you bitch, and moan, and complain, and I’m fucking sick of it!”

That was also true.

He was almost always working; bearing the cross of being his father's son, forced to live a life he despised. It was exhausting, and draining, and all he wanted to do was come home and rest for the few short hours that he had before he had to get up and do it all over again. She’d never let him, though.

“Oh, you’re sick of it? Boo-fucking-hoo, Aegon,” she threw her hands up in the air. “What are you going to do? Leave? You tried that before, remember? It didn’t work.”

She was right again. How many times had they broken up? They had probably been separated more times than they had actually been together. He broke up with her the night before over something equally as futile, and yet, here he was again.

He just couldn’t stay away.

“You’re such a fuckin’ bitch!” He yelled. “You know that?”

Yeah, she knew. She always had been and he always knew it. Yet, he stayed, she stayed. The two couldn’t stay away from each other.

They were moths to a flame.

He threw the door open, marching outside to the balcony, cigarette already lit and beer bottle in his hand. He slammed the door behind him, but she didn’t flinch. She was used to slamming doors, used to him in her face. Their screaming fits turned into fist fights almost every single time.

“Yeah, well fuck you,” she mumbled.

She poured herself a drink, swallowing the warm liquid quickly; it burned the whole way down. His silhouette danced along half-opened blinds as he paced back and forth on the balcony. Through the thin glass of the door she could hear him talking to himself; talking himself through hypothetical arguments while waving his hands in the air as he rehearsed. She didn’t even know why she was mad anymore. That’s how it was most nights. Something so small would trigger one of them, and then one sarcastic remark after the other and they were fighting again. The only time they ever got along was when they were both drunk, high, and fucking like animals on the closest surface available.

He was contemplating leaving again. Contemplating grabbing the keys, getting in the car, and spending the night in the gutter of some bar. This relationship was toxic. It always had been. His family begged him to stay away from her; the ‘narcissistic bitch’ they called her. Told him she was no good for him and that all she did was use him for money and sex. No matter how many times he tried to tell them that wasn’t true, they still wouldn’t believe him.

She didn’t want or need money. She didn’t want or need the sex. Hell, she barely wanted him. She could do so much better, they both knew it. She was beautiful and smart, and had everything going for her. Why she was sucked into this black hole of a fling, he would never know, and at times that made him feel even worse; knowing that she- in all of her holier-than-thou attitude and narcissistic personality disorder- she was still the prize of the two of them. He was just some cubicle junkie who only amounted to anything because of his last name, not because he cared.

Not because he was good at anything.

He came back inside when he was done smoking his cigarette and feeling sorry for himself. She was sitting at the table waiting for him. That was it, that was all it took; either he left or it was going to be World War III. He knew it by that shrewd look in her eye. The one that said, ‘you say one word to me, and I’m going to hurl this bottle of Jack Daniels at your fucking head’. He pulled the keys from the counter and started making his way back towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” She asked him, standing up from her seat at the table and placing her hands on her hips.

He rolled his eyes and stopped. He really, really didn’t want to argue with her. He was tired, his muscles were sore, and he was so fed up with her shit. When he turned to face her, he sighed internally. She looked so cute standing there like that. Like at any moment she could just jump on him and claw his eyes out.

He hated crazy, but he loved her crazy.

“Well?” She drew out after not getting an answer the first time.

She was really trying to start something, and Aegon was caught in a cross hair; if he answered her, they fought. If he didn’t answer her, they still fought. If he left, they’d fight when he came back. Either way, there was going to be a fight.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” He yelled, knowing that everyone in their apartment complex could hear him. “Away from you and you’re fuckin’ voice that’s like nails on a goddamned chalkboard.”

All he had to do was say ‘I’m leaving’. He didn’t have to add the comment about her voice. But back-handed remarks were his thing, and he really couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it really mattered.

“Oh my voice is like nails on a chalkboard, huh?” She replied. “You aren’t saying that when you’re asking me to scream for you in bed! And trust me, the only reason I would be screaming is in laughter because your dick is so fucking small!”

She was in his face now, not intimidated at all by the way his eyes darkened. His fists were balled. He had hit her before a few times, and he always felt bad about it. But Gods, she was so annoying.

“What are you going to do? Hit me?” She egged on.

He was seriously thinking about it. Shut her up for the rest of the night. She might even pack her bags and stay with someone else for a few weeks. But he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. Instead he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into him, crashing his lips on to hers. It didn’t take long at all for her to wrap her legs and arms around him.

They wasted no time; Aegon pushed her up against the wall, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled her panties to the side, and spit in his hand to wet the tip of his cock before he pushed himself into her. She gasped, fistfuls of his hair. Her mouth hung open as he pounded into her, slamming her up against the wall with each thrust. Her heavy moaning in his ear only added to the built up frustration that he needed to take out on her. She nibbled at his ear lobe, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” he groaned in between thrusts.

Aegon pulled out of her and forced her down to her knees, shoving his wet cock into her mouth. She sucked the taste of herself off of him with pleasure before he pulled himself out and slapped the tip against her cheek, exploding on her face. He stood there for a minute, riding out the climax as she licked the dripping seed from his shaft. Then, she looked up at him from her knees; the sticky white liquid covering her face as she smiled.

This was why he couldn’t stay away.

She stood up, adjusting her clothes, and wiped the semen off of her face with the t-shirt she had pulled off of him. Aegon fixed his pants and plopped down on the couch.

“Grab me another beer, would you?” He asked after a yawn.

She resisted the urge to laugh out loud. “Get your own fucking beer.”

“You’re so ungrateful!” He replied.

“I’m ungrateful?” She started. “I fucking cook your meals, wash your fucking clothes, do your fucking dishes! And what do you do? Nothing!”

She suddenly realized why she was mad at him in the first place.

“Here we go again,” He replied with a groan. “For the last time, I’m never fucking here!”

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nightskyslayer2 · 1 year

Text

Aegon being extremely jealous because of Jaces obvious crush on his wife, showing her and their nephew she is his and his only.

Aegon x sister!wife!reader x Jacaerys SMUT

Part I (Part II)

It was a beautiful spring morning in kingslanding. A warm breeze flowing in the shared chambers of y/n and Aegon through the open windows. The princesses white hair gently flew in the wind as she sat at the table, quietly reading a book in peace as she had a few more minutes before breakfast would be served.

Y/n turned to the next page of her novel when suddenly the doors of the chamber opened with a loud noise. The poor girl jumped in her seat and got so scared, she almost fell off her chair. She cussed under her breath but relaxed as soon as she saw her dear brother and husband in front of her. “Gods, Aegon!”

Aegon chuckled, clearly amused by y/ns silly and anxious behaviour. “What?” he laughed warmly “am I not allowed to enter my own chambers anymore?” His cocky smile made y/n roll her eyes but she couldn’t help but laugh too. “You stomped in here as if I was in danger” she giggled and closed her book, standing up to greet her husband properly. Her brother still had this stupid grin on his face but it turned into a loving smile as soon as the princess reached up to kiss his cheek. His hands slung around her waist as he kissed her cheek - or rather the corner of her mouth - too. Y/n giggled in his arms, her head now resting against his chest, enjoying the tight embrace of his and breathing in his comforting scent. Aegon smiled down at his dear wife with loving eyes but it didn’t take long for the prince to find something to disturb this peaceful moment.

His gaze caught the eye of the big orange bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. Usually Aegon didn’t pay much attention to the decorations in their room, he couldn’t care less, but a bouquet as bright and as big as this one he surely would had taken notice of. It hadn’t been there yesterday.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern and he gently pushed his wife away from his chest. “Who gifted you these flowers y/n?” Aegon said while walking up to the colourful bouquet on the table. “There’s someone in the castle sending my wife flowers?- and you tolerate it?” He said as he took them out of the vase already devoted and ready to throw them out the open window. “No!” y/n stopped her brother by grabbing his underarm. “They are from Jacaerys.” She confessed but instantly regretted her honesty. “Jacaerys?!” He said out loud. “Jacaerys is sending you flowers??!” His tone was getting louder and more offending. “what on earth does this little bastard think he’s doing?” Aegon forcefully threw the bouquet onto the table and turned his body in rush, ready to stomp off in anger.

“Aegon please… Jacaerys was just being nice.” Y/n pleaded him to stay calm. “Being nice.” He scoffed. “Being nice to a wedded woman. My woman... He lost his mind” Aegon was in rage but y/n on the other hand had learned to stay calm and gently cupped his heated face.

“No, you’re about to loose your mind dear husband. Our nephew is no threat to us. He’ll never be. Don’t you worry” Her words and eyes full of love made him actually calm down a bit. “It’s not you I’m worried about in the first place” he said with some sadness and annoyance in his tone “he wants you y/n… you know he does. He always did… since we were children.”

Aegon was so protective over her. This man was constantly worried and scared she’ll leave him just like everybody else. Always anxious someone better than him will steal her away. He knew he had some complications and a concerning past but y/n change him. He was trying so hard to be better for her because in his opinion his sister only deserved the best. He still oh so often struggled with his feelings and the pressure he felt by others but y/n loved every fibre of his being.

“So? Jacaerys doesn’t matter. Who’s hand am I holding under the tables? Who’s arms am I sleeping in every night?” the young princess started to caress his cheek, showing him that there’s no other man she’ll ever be interested in and that there’s no reason to be worried about her or their nephew. “And whom did I swear loyalty to in front of the seven?” she paused, looking up at his softening lilac eyes. “Who’s child am I with?”

Aegon smiled at her last comment, never had he doubted at any chance given that y/n had laid with any other man than him. He gently placed his hand onto her stomach, the news she had told him a few moons ago were the best he had ever received. His heart ached with love at the thought of a little heir growing inside his beautiful y/n. His sister then slowly put her own hand over his, grinning up at him in true devotion and excitement.

But Aegons smile didn’t stay long on his lips. It dropped as soon as he had glanced over at the flowers again. He was staring at them for a few seconds, then returned to look into y/ns confused big eyes. “I still don’t like them.” he said dryly and the princess laughed at her silly husband. She kissed Aegons cheek sweetly before she hugged him yet again. “Orange? Awful choice he made.”

Shortly after, a maid had knocked and informed the couple that the family will be having breakfast in the gardens for the sake of their old king and father and the warm spring breeze this morning. To y/ns surprise Aegon contained himself very well, as it was now the first time he had seen Jacaerys again after the whole flower debate going on. He maybe was glaring at him every now and then but that was it. Aegon was trying really hard to focus on y/ns words she had told him earlier and just ignore him for the better.

Y/n was talking and laughing with her sister Helaena, sitting opposite of her, when Aegon noticed that their oldest nephew had been blushing and looking over at his wife for longer than his liking would allow him to. Aegon couldn’t help himself but scoff out loud in annoyance. Y/ns hair was gently laying on her back and over her shoulders, giving Jacaerys full view of her neck and cleavage. The princess could sense Jaces’ staring too but decided to send the brown haired boy a smile for appreciation before turning to her sister again.

That’s when Aegon couldn’t stand his nephews thirsting anymore. He abruptly stood up with plates and cups slightly shaking and held out his hand for y/n to take it. “Care to take a walk with me through the botanic gardens dear wife?” He stretched out the word ‘wife’ so hard it made their brother Aemond chuckle in his seat in amusement. Of course not only y/n and Aegon knew of Jacaerys crush on her. The poor boy was quite obvious to say the least and almost the whole red keep could connect the little puzzle pieces flying around.

Aegon linked his arm with his sisters and y/n and him disappeared around the corner. As soon as they were out of sight Aegon pushed her against a tree. Not too forcefully, as he knew there’d be a great possibility of y/n being with child, but also not quite gentle.

Y/n looked back at her husband in shock. Has he lost his mind now? But before she could say anything her brother pressed himself against her, trapping her between his body and the tree, slowly leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You’re mine.” He claimed. “You said it yourself but then you innocently smile at him…” her brothers fingers closed tightly on her hair and he warningly yanked her head back. “… as if you didn’t know about our nephews intentions to fuck you”. Y/n accidentally moaned at his action which drew a big sly smirk on Aegons lips. He hummed in her neck as he now hectically fumbled around with her dress in a hurry. He’d never admit it but he loved that stupidly innocent face expression of hers. It made him want to fuck any last sense out of her. His hungry eyes were looking down at y/ns pleading face. Little did he know how much she loved her brothers roughness whenever he got all angry and jealous.

But of course, Y/n knew better than to provoke him. When they were younger she often intended to and teased him on purpose but it didn’t quite end well. Not for the involved men and not for her nor Aegons own health. He had fucked his sister stupid for days, y/n secretly enjoying it but him on the other hand secretly suffering because the kind of neglect he experienced through it was all too familiar with him. He needed insurance and safety and it broke him to see his sister doing things like that just for fun. Luckily y/n had realised this as they grew older but to be fair, this time she truly just had smiled at Jace in matter of being nice and to end his staring. But apparently Aegons boiling blood because of their nephews behaviour had happened to spill over today.

it completely spilled

He had enough. Y/n was his. And he wanted to take her. No, he was going to take her. He was going to show her what smiling at other men would do. And especially he wanted to make himself feel better and more powerful and previlaged as their pathetic nephew Jacaerys, because he and only he could fuck his dear wife at anytime he wanted.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon imagine #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x reader smut #jacaerys valaryon x you #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader

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