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#aegon targaryen x reader
valeskafics · 1 day
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"Moonlight Girl" - Aegon Targaryen II x Niece!Reader
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a/n: i'm sorry in advance lol
Summary: Try as he might, Aegon will never be able to forget his moonlight girl.
TW: canon typical incest, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, arranged marriage, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, angst, hurt no comfort, character death
Word Count: 2,035 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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He had loved you from the moment he saw you, when he watched his elder sister place a dragon egg in your cradle. At the same time he placed in your tiny hands a locket with the emblem of a dragon, the sigil of your house, smiling at you as you reached out to snatch it from him eagerly. Neither Rhaenyra nor Alicent wished to encourage Aegon’s affection for you, but he was not so easily deterred. You were a mere two years younger than him and ever his constant companion. While your younger brothers constantly sought Aegon’s approval, you never had to. He gave it to you readily. The two of you grew so close that those who lived in the Keep knew you were all but inseparable. So often did you sneak out to Godswood or into the city in the dead of night together that Aegon began calling you his moonlight girl. He would come to your usual meeting place, at the hour of the ghosts every night, the fountain where the birds would come to drink. Ever since your shared childhood, you enjoyed bringing seeds for them, feeding them alongside Aegon.
And he enjoyed watching you, how you smiled and how your aura shone in the moonlight. His sweet moonlight girl. Every memory he had with you he held near and dear to his heart, from the most trivial to the most consequential. It was all equally important and treasured by him.
When your Aunt Laena passed and your family in its entirety was reunited on Driftmark for her funeral proceedings, you begged and pleaded with your mother to offer your hand in marriage to Aegon. She resented the idea, opposed it vehemently, but she saw that look in your eyes. She did not wish to subject you to the same fate she had been. So, Rhaenyra Targaryen swallowed her pride and approached the woman who was once her dearest friend. Queen Alicent cruelly rebuffed her, declaring that arrangements had already been made for Aegon to wed Helaena in the Valyrian tradition. Rhaenyra knew this was meant to be a slight against her. Alicent had always considered the traditions of the House of the Dragon to be queer, an affront to the Seven. She was only doing this so that Aegon could not marry you.
Your mother allowed you to scream at her, your rage pouring forth from you like rain from the heavens. But she vowed then and there that she would not allow you to be humiliated by the likes of Alicent Hightower. She would find you a match more suitable. She would not let her beloved firstborn be insulted by her father’s second wife.
You ran to Aegon, telling him what all had happened. Until that night, Aegon had not understood the extent of his feelings for you. He did not realize just how deeply he loved you until he learned he would never be able to have you, that he was to be wed to his sister. Aegon took your hand, pressed a kiss to it, and vowed to you that the two of you would reunite one day. That he would be your husband and you his lady wife.  And your lips met in a tender first kiss. He gave you a lamp, bidding that you keep it lit for him. That you keep the flame burning until the day you were finally reunited, the day you would finally be together.
Surprisingly, the day of your nuptials came before those of Aegon’s to Helaena. In his wisdom, your stepfather brokered a peace treaty between House Martell and House Targaryen by way of you - Rhaenyra’s rightful heir. You were to marry Prince Qyle, thereby bringing Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms upon your ascendancy to the throne. It was a wise choice, one you had no reasonable objection to. You had long held out hope for the betrothal between Aegon and Helaena to be broken. But your hopes, your dreams… They were not to be.
He sent you a raven, the day you turned six and ten. You opened it, bright-eyed, hoping that it would bear news of his betrothal being annulled, that you would finally be able to be with him.
My sweet moonlight girl,
I must beg your forgiveness. It was folly to believe that love could ever exist between the two of us. I implore you to forget about me. To forget any words I ever spoke to you that gave you hope of a match between us being possible. You must move on from me. We are not meant to be, and we never will be.
Aegon
Jace rushed to your side as the letter fell from your hands and your body dropped to the floor, racking with sobs. Your brother knew the truth of what occurred between you and Aegon, the love that was shared. And all he could do was try to offer you the comfort of his arms, whispering that Prince Qyle was a good man, that he would make you happy. And all you could do was sob, your spirit utterly broken at Aegon’s rejection. Even so, you keep Aegon’s lamp lit, hoping beyond hope for a miracle.
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The entirety of the Targaryen clan attends your wedding ceremony in Sunspear. Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena serve as part of your bridal party, painting your hands and feet with henna, preparing you for your new life as a bride. The two of you will live at the Water Gardens until such time you take the Iron Throne. You do your best to smile for your mother and Daemon’s benefit, to feign happiness at marrying a gentleman like Qyle. After all, he has been nothing short of warm and welcoming to you ever since you and Aegerax set foot in Dorne. You may not love him, but he is a good man. And you hope he will make a good husband.
Helaena gives you a soft smile as she fastens your payal around your ankle, “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.
You do not hate Helaena, nor do you begrudge her for marrying Aegon. You know neither of them had a choice in this. But that does not mean you do not envy her. That it does not hurt when you look at her and see her sweet face, knowing that she is the one who will be wed to the man you love, the one to bear his children and spend her life with him.
You stand outside just before you are meant to walk down the aisle, gazing up at the moon. That is when he comes to you. Aegon drops to his knees before you, taking your hands in his.
“You look so beautiful, my moonlight girl.”
You shake your head, eyes stinging as you struggle to rein in your sadness, “No. No, you cannot do this to me. Not when I am about to be married.”
“Run away with me,” Aegon pleads, clutching at the skirt of the lehenga you wear, his eyes watering, cheeks stained with the tears he has been shedding all day at the thought of losing you, “I was wrong. I love you. Gods, I have always loved you. I was a fool to allow my mother to sway me into writing that letter. She said it would be for the best. That it would allow you to move on from me.” He gives a furtive glance at the lamp in the chambers where you were just getting ready. His lamp. He smiles ruefully, “There is no moving on from each other when it comes to us.”
You look at him, choking on the words you wish to speak. You wish to take Aegerax and Sunfyre and fly far from here. But you cannot. This is your duty. You could never forsake your family. Your mother. Your responsibility to the realm. You kneel down to Aegon’s level, resting your forehead against his, your voice coming in a shaky whisper.
“I cannot. You know I cannot.”
And he does know. As you move to get up, Aegon grabs at your locket, a last minute plea for you not to leave him. But with a strength you did not know you had, you walk away from him. The locket’s chain breaks, falling from your neck into his waiting hand, neither of you knowing that Prince Qyle has witnessed this entire affair.
And Aegon is helpless to do anything but watch as the love of his life weds another.
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It is said by many that from the time Aegon picked up his cup of wine at your wedding, he never put his cup down again. He drowned his sorrows in drink, in the brothels of Flea Bottom. He sought refuge in Helaena’s arms, sobbing, wishing he could love her the way he loves you. But he cannot. He vows to her that in another life, he would never have been able to resist her. But she just gives him that serene smile, running her fingers through his hair as she tries to soothe her brother’s aching heart.
But there is no reprieve for Aegon. He drinks and he drinks, his health deteriorating with every passing day. He is killing himself with this habit. Helaena pleads for him to see reason, but he cannot. His only wish is to see you one last time before his disease claims him.
So, with the last vestiges of strength that remain in his body, he flies to Dorne atop his golden mount, calling out your name as he stands at the gates of the Water Gardens, begging to see you one last time.
You move to answer his call, but are stopped by your lord husband.
Qyle scowls, shaking his head, “No! She will not see him! Guards, secure all the doors. My wife is not to leave the palace.”
You turn to your husband, shocked, “How dare you presume to command me? I am your wife, not your slave! If I wish to see my uncle, I will see him!”
“Oh, it is not your uncle you wish to see, Princess,” Qyle spits, “I know of your past with that drunken fool, and I’ll be damned if I let you make a fool of me in front of all of my kingdom.”
You hear him calling for you. Your Aegon. Your beloved calling for his moonlight girl. Tears prick at your eyes as you race through the hallways of the palace, doing your best to reach him. You can feel it in your heart and you can hear it in his voice that he grows weaker with every passing moment.
“Aegon!”
You get closer and closer to the main door, seeing him standing there, dark circles under his eyes, his hair a mess, sinking to his knees with fatigue as his hand reaches out to you. You run as fast as your feet can carry you, your heart pounding like a drum, praying that you will not be too late to see him, speak to him one last time.
Just as you are about to reach the Water Gardens gates, your hand outstretched toward Aegon, a melancholic smile on both of your faces at the thought of reuniting, the gates are closed. You sink to your knees, bawling hysterically, while Aegon? He falls to the ground, clutching at his chest. He does not know if it is the drink that has killed him or the pain in his heart. The last thing he sees is your blurred figure racing toward him.
Aegon’s last word is your name, falling from his lips in a weak whisper as his eyes close for the last time, clutching your broken locket to his chest as if holding you before he left this world.
Sunfyre lets out a mighty roar, one that many who heard would come to say sounded akin to a sob.
And the lamp you lit for your beloved Aegon, all those years ago in the hopes of him returning to you, of your love finally prevailing, flickers for the briefest of moments before finally going out.
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m1ndbrand · 3 days
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Aegon, staring at Y/N with heart eyes:
Aemond, gagging: I liked you better when you were a whore.
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myocsfanfictions · 2 days
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THE WRATH OF FIRE
House of the Dragon Fanfiction
MASTERLIST
Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.
《 Previous - Next 》
CHAPTER 4
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“Dracarys.” When Ysilla said those words, her dragon breathed fire. She had the serving girl bring her a piece of raw meat.
Dragons didn't eat raw meat.
"Sƴz, riña," the Maester told her. He had been with her for six months now. A gift from her uncle after she visited King's Landing. (Good, child)
"Kirimvose," she answered. Her eyes fixed on her dragon. (Thank you)
Ysilla had been studying High Valyrian as soon as the Maester started to serve her, but her mother did not appreciate the King's gift. She said that there was no reason for him to be in Runestone.
"Mother, please!" she complained one night when her mother expressed the wish for the man to return to King's Landing.
"We don't need him here." She had answered.
"You may don't, but I do," Ysilla said. The shock on her mother's face was visible. Ysilla usually listened to whatever her mother said. It had been a strange feeling to be stubborn with her. But Ysilla could not let her lady mother send her teacher back to the Capital.
"I'm the only Targaryen who does not know High Valyrian," Ysilla explained. Her small hands clenched in fists. She wanted to be strong in front of her mother. She had to be.
"I've always told you to be proud of your blood. First Men's blood," her mother's words made Ysilla's eyes stung with tears.
"I remember," she said. But she wouldn't have backed down. "But I need to learn High Valyrian."
"You need to learn how to hawk," her mother answered firmly.
Ysilla felt so much rage in her.
"I'm not a goat; I'm a dragon!" Her mother's dark eyes widened. Shocked, she shared a look with her cousin, Ser Gerold Royce. At that moment, Ysilla understood that the words she had heard from Otto Hightower were true. It had been painful. But she knew what she had to do.
If Father sees I'm a good Targaryen, he will love me. Ysilla was sure of that. She did not act as a Targaryen at all. Her mother wanted her to be more similar to a Royce. But Ysilla was much more of that. She was a Targaryen princess. In a few years, he would have been a dragon rider. And when she would have grown up, she would have been like Visenya. She was more than a noble lady from the Vale. She was a Targaryen.
Father would be proud of me, she swore.
Ysilla would study all day. History, philosophy, calculus, politics, and High Valyrian. With the Master of the Dragonpit, she would speak only High Valyrian. She wanted to learn fast, especially when she found out that the war on the Stepstones was over.
"Father won!" Ysilla said happily to her uncle Gerold one day in the Godswood of Runestone. "He must have flown with Caraxes and burned them all."
Her uncle observed her in silence. His beard may have hidden half of his face. But she could see his lips tight in a thin line.
"You've changed, Ysilla, since you visited King's Landing," he said, making her smile.
"The Maester says that dragons feel other dragons," she answered, looking at the red leaves of the Heart Tree, "Maybe it had been the same with humans as well."
Her uncle took a deep breath. "Why are you so obsessed with these matters? You hardly speak of other topics, if not dragons."
Ysilla lowered her eyes. No one wanted to talk about those matters with her, as no one liked her dragon, her only friend.
"I'm a Targaryen," she said, "My father is Prince Daemon Targaryen."
"And your mother is Rhea Royce," he reproved her. Does she not share equal importance?"
"Of course she does," Ysilla muttered with a flush of shame. Since her dragon had been born, Ysilla and her mother had started to argue frequently. Her mother did not like Ysill's interests.
Ysilla wished not to argue with her mother. She had been very important to the little princess. She had been a role model, and Ysilla had so much respect for her. And she had raised Ysilla as a Royce. Proud as a Royce. But she wanted for Ysilla to forget that she was a Targaryen. And she could not. Ysilla had to show her father and everyone else that her mother was no goat. And that she was a dragon.
"You know I love you?" One evening, Ysilla asked her mother about it as they were dining.
"So sudden?" Her mother answered with raised eyebrows. Rhea Royce was not an openly loving woman, but Ysilla knew her mother cared for her.
"Do you?" Ysilla insisted stubbornly.
Her mother took a breath, "I do."
Ysilla seemed happy by her words, "And I'm sorry if in the last months I've been wilful."
"I'm glad you've realized it," her mother said, but Ysilla kept talking. " Why do you don't like that I'm a Targaryen?" Her mother took a breath. She put the knife in her hand and put it back on the table, but she did not answer. "Everyone in the realm wishes to say that their children have the blood of old Valyria."
Her mother observed her in silence for a moment, "The marriage between me and your father is a rich arrangement for the realm," Ysilla's eyes grew larger, leaning forward on the table. Her mother had never spoken of those matters with her. "But your father grew insufferable here. Insufferable of me," Ysilla listened quietly, "When I gave birth to you, your hair was as dark as your eyes. And he was there. He suggested that you were a bastard."
Ysilla lowered her eyes. It could not be possible. But why would her mother lie to her? There was no reason. So it must be true. But it could not be.
"He never wanted to see you," her mother said.
"I'm not a bastard," Ysilla whispered.
"No, you're not," her mother answered. Growing up, your hair and eyes proved it to everyone. But your father never accepted that."
"Why?" Ysilla asked, confused.
"He loathes me as I do him," she answered. And he would have broken the marriage off if he could make people think you were a bastard. That's why he never wants to see us." Ysilla lowered her gaze. "He loves his ambition, Ysilla. And you are more than him."
Ysilla felt confused. It all seemed absurd to her. Why would her father hate her mother? And why did he hate his daughter because of that? He had never talked to her. One could not just decide to hate someone, could they?
"All the Kings of the Seven Kingdoms, Ysilla," asked the Septa one morning.
Ysilla took a breath. "Aegon I the Conquerer. After him, there was his son, Aenys I. His mother was Queen Rhaenys. Then Maegor the Cruel. Then Jeaherys I. He was called The Old King, or the Wise, or the Conciliator. He ruled peacefully for half a century. But he had no heir."
"So what happened?" The Septa asked.
"He had to choose between his two nephews," Ysilla remembered, "Princess Rhaenys or Prince Viserys. And he chose Prince Viserys. Now King Viserys I."
"And who is to follow?"
"The King chose Princess Rhaenyra," Ysilla said. Then she frowned. No woman had been queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And when her Uncle chose Rhaenyra, Aegon was not yet born. So, the rightful heir should have been her father, Daemon Targaryen.
He loves his ambition. Ysilla remembered her mother's words. How did her father react to the King's decision?
And the Dragonstone folly. She remembered.
"What is it with Father and Dragonstone?" Ysilla asked before she could stop herself.
The Septa's eyes widened, "That is off-topic, princess."
"But I want to know," Ysilla said stubbornly. "Why was Father in Dragonstone? Rhaenyra is the Princess of Dragonstone, not Father."
"Ysilla," her mother's voice came from behind her, making her turn. The Septa was quick to stand up and bow to the Lady of Runestone. "Stop with those questions," Ysilla observed her mother; she was wearing her riding attire. She was surely going out to hawk. Then she came next to her daughter, caressing her hair, "I'm riding out," she said, "Do you remember your duties for today?"
Ysilla nodded, "History, then sawing lesson."
The High Valyrian, she thought.
"I'll be back to dine together," her mother said, putting on her glove, "Behave."
"And be proud," Ysilla muttered. That made her mother chuckle.
"I don't need to remind you that," she said, "You never fail to be proud." Ysilla smiled, observing her mother walking toward the door.
"Be careful," Ysilla said to her mother like she always did. The little princess didn't go out to hawk that much—her pony was too little. But her mother had told her that in six months, they would have gone hawking together. Her mother loved to hunt, but Ysilla could not wait to be on the dragon's back more.
"Skori jāhor nyke sagon naejot sōvegon issa zaldrīzes?" Asked Ysilla, stammering some of the words. Not sure she remembered them correctly. (When will I be able to fly my dragon?)
"Hāre jēdri, riña," the Maester answered, observing how Ysilla's dragon liked to be next to his rider. (Three years, girl)
Three years, and she would have been able to fly. Her dragon was growing every day more, surprising everyone. But the Maester told her that he was growing fast for his conditions.
"I really need to find a name soon," she said, observing the violet eyes of her dragon. "A fighter name." Then he looked at the sky, making a little sound. Then he looked back at Ysilla, making the same sound. He seemed a little agitated, but he calmed down when the girl touched his head.
The Maester had told her that she and the creature had a strong connection. "Hae dārilaros Daemon se Caraxes." (Like Prince Daemon and Caraxes)
Ysilla looked up at the man. He had been in King's Landing all his life, tending the Targaryens' Dragons. He had seen all of them: King Viserys and Balerion, The Black Dread, Princess Rhaenys and Meleys, Rhaenyra, and Syrax, and, of course, Ysilla's father and Caraxes.
"Gōntan kepa gūrotan Caraxes lēda zirȳla, skori istas naejot Zaldrīzesdōron?" Ysilla spoke slowly, thinking about every word. (Did Father take Caraxes with him when he went to Dragonstone?)
"Hen rhinka, riña." the man answered. His tone was strange. Trying to hide anger. But it was there. Why anger? She wanted to know. (Of course, child)
He would have never answered if she had asked inquisitively, she knew. But maybe that anger could be used in some way.
"Such a vile act," Ysilla said, using the same tone Otto Hightower had used. "Dragonstone belongs to Princess Rhaenyra."
"The stolen egg was much more vile," when she turned to the man, his eyes were wide. Regretting those words. "Forgive me, princess," he was quick to add, bowing his head.
Her father had stolen a dragon egg. Why would he do such a thing?
Her dragon looked at the sky again, flipping his small black wings.
"There's no need," she answered, trying to do her best to hide the shock in her tone, "I already knew," she lied, "My mother always tells me about my father's deeds. And they are not always positive words." She thought fast. Her egg had been chosen for her as soon as she was born; that was the Targaryen's tradition. If her father had taken an egg, there was only a reason. She felt rage thinking about that possibility.
"A dragon to a bastard," she said, noticing how the stolen egg was a sensitive topic for the man. "That's an insult."
Would he really steal an egg to give it to a bastard when he had insulted his mother by saying that Ysilla was one?
"Fortunately, no bastard was born, as far as it's known," he answered, "It was just an act to challenge the King's authority."
He loves his ambition, Ysilla.
Didn't he support his brother as King? Or he didn't support Rhaenyra as the future Queen? Why did he take that egg?
"Skoros drōmon iksin bona?" Ysilla asked not turning to the man. (What egg was that?)
"Se drōmon hen Dreamfyre. Dārilaros Rhaenyra ēdas chosen ziry syt zirȳla morghe lēkia, Baelon," Ysilla felt the blood in her veins run cold. (The egg of Dreamfyre. Princess Rhaenyra had chosen it for her dead brother, Baelon)
It was such a vile act to steal his dead nephew's egg. To give it to who? If he hated his wife, who was he planning to give it to? She would have liked to ask more, but her dragon started to growl, agitated. He flapped his wings again and kept looking at the sky.
That was strange. He had never done that. He was a calm dragon, never making many sounds, but he was upset and not able to stay still.
"Skoros iksis jāre va?" Ysilla asked, glancing at the man before walking to her dragon, kneeling at his side, "Lykiri," she said, trying to gain her dragon's attention, but he wasn't listening. (What is going on?) (Calm down)
"Maester?" She asked, seeing the man looking at the sky as well. His face was dark with worry.
"Dohaeris," she said, focusing back on her dragon. He seemed somewhat drawn to those words and glanced at her with his purple eyes.
A strange feeling went down through Ysilla's back. A shiver full of dread.
I want Mother, she thought instinctively. Feeling her eyes stung with tears.
"Ysilla," The voice of her uncle Gerold made her turn with a gasp. The man was behind her. His face was pale, his hands were trembling, and on his clothes, there was blood.
She stood up, trembling. Her eyes never lived the red of the blood.
"The Lady Rhea…"
Ysilla felt cold as her dragon roared with wrath.
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Tag list: @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @roxannequeen @shadowzena43
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danytar · 1 day
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“Drowning in You” [Young!Aegon X Twin!Sister!Reader]
Warnings: Incest - Obscene language - mention of oral sex
summary: One night, you were passing by your brother's room to see the maids rushing out of his room, crying like babies. Which prompted you to enter his room and see what what's wrong with him.
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You were in your room with your ladies-in-waiting talking and laughing before they retire to their chambers to let you rest but you couldn't sleep.. It was a rainy winter night a very calm and romantic evening.
So You decided to go out and wander around the Red Keep, specifically your brother's room... your lover'. You put your cloak over your robe and left your room towards his own.. While you were walking towards his room, you saw the maids running from his room crying.
You entered his room and looked around to find his room in chaos and mess. He was clearly angry And very desperate.. you look at him and said “What's wrong Aeg? ”.
He quickly turned to you and wiped away his tears “Nothing ”. he replies
She quickly approaches his bed, holds his cheeks and looks into his eyes “You can lie to whoever you want...but not to me”.
“The servants, the bloody bastards,” He grumbled, not looking at you. His words were barely understandable with all the shouting, his lips seemed on the edge of tears. “They do not listen. No-one listens to me. My mother does not.”
He was about to say something else, but stopped at the last sentence, taking a breath. “I have no-one.”
“Aeg- you said but he interrupted you “Mother.. mother was screaming at me once again!”
He said, his body language seemed very frantic and anxious. His fists were clenched tightly as he stood over his bed. He looked like he was on the brink or crying once again, but his ego was too big for him to cry in front of you. Instead, he punched a few pillows, making them go flying about.
“She’s always screaming at me! But never at Aemond or Helaena. She must hate me.. she must.”
“She doesn't hate you! ”. you reply
“Then why doesn’t she give me a hug like how she does with Aemond and Helaena?”
He started to have his voice break, you could tell he hated to be upset and was trying not to cry. “Why doesn’t she give me sweet words like how she does to Aemond? Is it because I’m not good enough?”
“I think we are equal in this”. you said
“You think we are equal!? She doesn’t treat us as equals!” The boy was getting very angry now, clearly he wanted to have some sort of attention from his mother but she wouldn’t give it to him. So he wanted you to comfort him instead.
“How is it fair. Aemond never gets yelled at, but I do. And she tells him she loves him, but she never says the same to me. You see how unfair it is?”
“Can you shut up for a second? ”. you reply
“I’m just trying to talk to you!” He said, he was a little surprised he got snapped at by you, but this anger quickly turned to rage as he became even more mad.
“I can talk if I want to! Why are you being so mean to me!? he replies.
You immediately pressed his lips with yours to make him shut up for a while. That quick peck was all it took, that little amount of attention put a big smile on his face. His whole body language shifted the moment you kissed him.. as if in that very instant everything that was stressing him out disappeared.
“No one else here loves me, but you do. I think you are the only one who loves me.”He said, laying down back onto his bed as he watched you closely.
He saw you come closer and slowly sat on him. He was still staring at you, his eyes focused on all the movements you made.
It was like everything before you disappeared as time passed. The noises of the world around you two melted away, a soft smile ran across his face.. he didn’t speak but he was enjoying the moment.. he was starting to feel comfortable.. the thought of his mother was fading away..
He pulled you closer so his lips met yours again Your kisses were to gentle and loving.. A few kisses, your gentle and loving lips touching him made his heart feel warm. Aegon’s heartrate quickly sped up as he felt your whole body get even closer to his. His lips meet yours and for a quick moment.. everything feels perfect. Nothing else exists in this moment except you two.
He slowly unbuttoned you nightgown, Aegon’s body moved to the moment as he felt the touch of you soft skin. His hands moved quickly as he undressed you, he slowly pulled off your nightgown until you were completely bare to him.
“You are worse than the whores of the Street of silk, Do you know that sweet sister?”. He was teasing you with the harshness of his words.
“Rude!”. You chuckle and stared at him with a cheeky smile on your face.
“Oh? Am I? ” He said playfully, he was just teasing you. your giggles were what made his heart skip a beat before going back to his normal rhythm.
His hands started to drift towards your chest, his fingers touching your soft skin as he smiled.
“Do not touch ”. You tease him and slap his palm playfully.
“Oh but I want to!”He said, a playful smirk forming on his face as he tried to grab your hand once again, his eyes locking in on your hands.
Eventually, once he got your hand, he started to play with it, kissing your knuckles playfully. It seemed like he was so desperate for love or any sort of affection. His body language was very relaxed as compared to earlier when he was all angry and upset.
“Oh, I'll let you, but first.. ”You look into his eyes and smile slyly.
“What? ”. he smilies back at you.
“I want you to fuck me by using your tongue”. you said.
He smiled at you from ear to ear and then got up to lay you on your back. You wrapped your legs around his neck you smiled sexyly..
He kissed your inner thigh “My pretty little whore ”. he chuckles.
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sunfyresrider · 2 days
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*ೃ༄SACRILEGE | AEGON II TARGARYEN
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✧Synopsis. You’d been sent to Valea Zalanului, Transylvania to aid a church in desperate need of sisters of the faith. Since you arrived your faith has been constantly tested and the priest himself stirs nothing but unease within you.
✧Content. 18+nsfw ahead, Old English, vampire!priest, fem!reader, “blood letting”, confessional, provocative thoughts/dreams, vampire cult?, blasphemy, sacrilege,“father”, corruption kink, smut, m/f cunnilingus, pnv. WC. 6.3k
✧Translations. Wot- know, Gramercy- thanks, Hast- have, Hath- had, Thou - you, ‘I- in, Dost/Doth- do, Thy- your, Tis- it is, Merely- solely/only, Beray- reveal, Aye- always/ever, Ere- before
✧Note. anddddd we’re back. I haven’t been writing enough in the last few months so I am rusty. FYI the plot moves fast, this was originally just meant to be a short smut. Tags. @criticallybella @etherial-moon-blog @xylianasblog
Valea Zalanului,
Transylvania,
1480
You had been sent on a journey to join and aid in a new church far from home. A little village twenty some miles from the nearest city in desperate need for a priest and sisters of the faith. You hadn’t minded traveling the distance, albeit the chill from the soon to pass winter season made it all the harder. The town itself was even smaller than you assumed, a grandiose church sat in the middle of around thirty very simple dwellings. The wood, straw and stone was much different from the entirely stone city you were blessed to be born into.
Valea Zalanului had a certain charm about it that most large settlements lacked, natural beauty. God had taken extra time to craft the hills and forests surrounding it. Unfortunately, you’d be inside the church for most of your stay here. Which might not be a horrible thing considering many lives had been lost due to disease, a child who made it past three was considered a blessing. Not to mention the wars that raged on throughout the country.
Your heart ached with excitement at the idea of being a part of this place and helping the people who lived here.
You noticed that even though it was shrouded in beauty every face you passed seemed grim and the town itself was droll in comparison to ones you visited previously. In all honesty, and god forgive you for saying this, you’d find more cheerful faces during a funeral.
As you began to ascend the steps to the church you were immediately greeted by two sisters, one was much shorter than the other, her face soft and fresh, the other was tall and sharp. The elder seemed less pleased to greet you as she stood a distance, observing you carefully. The younger girl stepped forward and bowed slightly before taking your hands.
"Thou might not but be our new sister! welcome, I be sister Marishka, the one standing yonder is sister Aleera!” Her voice was sweet and her excitement was evident. “Pleased to compose thy acquaintance Mariska,” you smiled earnestly, “And sister Aleera.” Her eyes bore into you and you waited with bated breath for her judgment. None came, only a single nod and a knowing look to Mariska.
“Don’t let her fright thou, that little nod means she approves. Aleera is normally quite welcoming, it’s just these days hast been busy.” Your face betrayed you as it showed your surprise, the town seemed too empty to have a lot of traffic. “Truly?”
“Oh yes, many of the sisters that hast traveled hither were disappointing to say the least. Not to mention the sheer numbers of victims of war and famine that hast graced our steps… This winter hath been much worse than 'i the past.” You glanced around, observing your surroundings for all the people she spoke of but none were found. Perhaps that had all passed away while in their care or sent away for whatever reason.
A strange feeling began to creep up your spine. You could not place what it was or why it was but it was very much present. Your head whipped back to the door where Aleera was beckoning you inside, an arm wrapped around your own, paired with the brightest smile you’d ever seen. She had practically dragged you inside, gawking at the new ceiling fixtures. It grew ever darker the further you moved inside, save the one grandiose stained glass window depicting the crucifixion.
For how busy she claimed it to be, the church seemed rather empty. It felt chilled, more so than the outside and instead of oak the building was made of stone. Her chatterings were lost on you as you took it all in. There was something greatly lacking, overshadowed by a presence you could not name. It almost felt as if this building was a costume, built to resemble a sacred place. You nearly began to regret auctioning yourself to a newer place, perhaps adventure was not suited for you.
A light nudge to your waist drew you out of your stupor, gazing incredulously at Marishka. Her voice was still hushed as you turned to look upon, what you could only presume was the acting priest. He looked far younger than what you expected, messy platinum hair framing his baby-esque face. His smile was bright, yet his eyes were a stark contrast. They were drowned in a hue of violet, shrouded with a cloud of something you could not pinpoint.
His lips moved and you still could not hear, you were far too focused on how his attire was not in the proper size. “Mine mind seems to be elsewhere, please forgive me. What was it thou spoke?” He chuckled silently to himself, your disrespect of his status seemed to amuse him.
"Never fret, thy journey hath been long and i presumed thou had been exhausted. I’m father Aegon, the current and hopefully 'i the foreseeable future priest.” His accent was heavy and foreign, British, not something you had heard often. You bowed slightly, hand pressed against your chest as you greeted him.
"Mine name is-” Father Aegon waved his hand, “I wot thy name and all the important details. I’ve been 'i close communication with thy sect and we feel most blessed to hast thou” His smile felt unnerving, unusually sharp at the tips of his mouth. You could almost swear his teeth were whiter than most, though dental hygiene was not a common practice.
His eyes, on the other hand, were strange. You’d never seen such a color before nor been enchanted into gazing at them. It seemed you could become lost in the depths, if only for a moment. Your silence must have been off putting because Marshika seemed to grip you harder. “Alright, Methinks mine sister hath had too much excitement for today. I shall guide her to her chambers.” Father Aegon nodded, a silent understanding passed between them.
You struggled to find sleep after today's odd welcoming. After mindlessly reading through the weathered pages of a Bible you’ve owned since a child you blew out the singular candle in your room. You settled under the thin blanket and turned your back to the window.
The moon was full tonight. It bathed your whole room in its pale light, creating odd shadows from your belongings. Your eyes were trained on the window across the room. The howling sounds of wind began lulling you to sleep like a corrupted lullaby.
Everything will be okay, you told yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. God will guide me through this, you murmured as you finally drifted off into slumber…
The sudden feeling of your bed being weighed down stirred you awake, but when you tried to move your body became limp. You glanced up to see a figure on all four limbs climbing onto the bed, dazzling red eyes boring into yours as it moved above you. A beast, one that seemed to be plucked out of hell itself. Your blood ran cold, the pounding of your heart echoing in your eardrums as its clawed, beastly hands slowly descended upon you.
You could neither scream nor move, as if you had been held down by an invisible weight and gagged by an unknown object. Your eyes squeezed shut, praying, begging for some sort of escape. Dear Lord art in heaven, whatever sin I may have committed or performed against you, dear god have mercy on me.
A soft pair of lips touched your collarbone, kissing against your trembling skin gently. You felt the devil above you shift, the horrid hands changing into ones that carefully caressed you. Blasphemy, you thought bitterly. How could such a heinous creature use such loving, familiar gestures? And yet, the hands and lips brought a strange warmth that calmed the tense muscles in your body and eased the erratic beats of your heart.
Your eyes began to pry themselves open, a flash of silver hair just hovering in your field of view. The smell of wine and a strange hint of musk entice your senses, the image growing clearer by the second. It was not the nightmarish shape you had seen before. Instead, a beautiful, gorgeous being that lulled you to another world with his hands.
Priest Aegon? No, not him, it couldn’t be.
His kisses did not cease, instead trickled down to your collarbone. His fingers inching onto your breasts, massaging into the tender flesh. You were not in your right mind, thoughts beginning to form and protest kept slipping away. It felt too good to fight it. Surely, this man is god in disguise.
The father’s lips pressed into that of your breast, his tongue ghosting your nipple. Your breath hitched, the feeling alone almost is enough to send you into convulsions. However, you were abruptly pulled from the haze, a sharp sensation pricked at your breast. With sudden clarity you peered down to see the priest sinking his teeth into your breast.
You jolted awake, eyes flying open and hands grasping at the spot where he bit you. You were in your room, alone, but you still were reeling from the dream. You heard the soft chirping of chaffinches and the soft rustling of the leaves. The normally comforting sounds of day instead brought a sense of dread in the air, as if the nightmare that visited you had left an imprint on the atmosphere.
As you remove yourself from bed and began washing yourself in front of the mirror you noticed A thin sheen of sweat coated your brow, and when you shifted you felt an odd ache between your legs. Worry began to nestle within your chest, could the lord see your dreams? Will he know about the vile, carnal, utterly strange thoughts that came to you?
You had neither had intentions to act on anything nor the carnal desire others held. You would repent for this, pray for forgiveness and to banish the image from your mind entirely. Out of thought, out of mind, you repeat to yourself in your mind as you readied yourself.
It’s important to note each house of God has different rules, in this one they are extremely picky about who they allow to work inside. Though it was increasingly clear it desperately needed some changes. To start, proper sleeping areas and a better way to heat the stone building. Perhaps more windows as well, it was extremely dark inside, midday felt more like midnight.
Everyone had made themselves scarce after breakfast, a small meal of bread and cheese that the farmers were kind enough to provide the church. It was a Sunday which meant communion would be held later in the evening. You attempted to make yourself busy in the meanwhile traveling around the town to feel out the people, culture and whatnot. It’s very important to know whom you would be spreading the word of the lord to.
The hallways within the cathedral were dimly lit, torches lined the walls instead of the usual decorative windows. There were few people around during the day and you encountered none of them. It seemed eerily empty, lacking something you could not put a name to. The wooden floorboards creaked as you walked across them and the grandiose door made a wicked screeching noise as you pried them open.
You felt lighter as you stepped outside, you felt lighter as you stepped outside, as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders and the dust no longer filled your airways. How odd, you thought to yourself, no house of God had made you feel like that before. You shook your head, starting your venture outside the confines of your home. The sleet had turned the soil into mud and the clouds remained dreary but at least the sun was starting to peak over the distant clouds.
Without hesitation you made your way through town, taking note of the way people eyed you suspicious and the caution everyone exuded while walking around the church. A scrawny man with a scraggly beard and rotting clothes strode towards your direction, probably going to visit the single alcohol serving establishment. You decided to attempt to speak to him, “excuse me, sir?”
He seemed completely uninterested as he avoided meeting your eyes. “S-sir? Doth thou hast a instant-” The man paused in his steps, turning around to meet your face. “You’re new, aren’t thou? Shipped 'i from another country i'd wager.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glad he was willing to converse. “Only a few countries away,” you lightly jested.
He let out a sigh of disappointment, almost gazing at you with pity in your eyes. “If you’re as smart as thou sound, sister, i would turn tail and flee.” Before you could muster up the courage to ask him why, the man continued. "Aye since that priest came around everything’s been strange. Don’t say to me thou haven’t noticed aught?” You opened your mouth to return the sentiment, perhaps ask more questions, but the sound of the church bells caught you off guard, the bells signaling the start of service. The man gave you a curt nod before continuing his trek.
You nearly fell over yourself trying to walk back to your temporary home. The doors were open, though there was hardly any people inside. Just as you stepped through the threshold you heard the doors close, the heavy wood clanging together loudly and shutting you out. A sudden wave of panic hit you, instead of feeling safe locked away in the house of god, you felt panicked.
You kept your head down as you walked to the front, seating yourself farthest from the altar. You closed your eyes, readying yourself for opening prayer.
“We gramercy, our father, for that life which thou've discovered to us by jesus, thy son, by whom thou made all things, and take care of all of the world-”
The insistent pounding of your heart beat berated your eardrums, drowning out the flurry of voices around you. A part of you worried someone could read your mind, see what you saw last or heard the distrust for your church evident in your innermost thoughts. No longer did you feel pure enough to partake in any ceremony and if you could, you would flee to your chambers.
“Eternal god, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may eat 'i remembrance of the corporal agent of thy son, and witness thee, o god.”
You were drawn back to the start of the communion, realizing you must have blacked out to miss so much. It felt as if time moved differently, you could swear you had just sat down.
“Holy God, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this wine to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may posset 'i remembrance of the blood of the lord which was shed for 'em”
Father Aegon’s voices boomed and bounced against the stone walls. It resounded in your head, as if it had come from within. You watched with careful eyes as the followers of Christ walked the aisles, one by one lining up in front of him. It was your turn now to stand and retake communion, as was required of nuns who moved sects. A part of you wanted to just sit and not join the line, but the fear of being shamed was far greater than the woe.
Your legs felt weak as you stood, your muscles nearly denying your pleas to move. You felt guilt weighing down your soul, as if divine punishment was awaiting. You shuffled along, eyes casted towards the ground as you gripped your dress. The Father was looking at, you could feel his eyes as you moved forward. From the tone of his voice he appeared disinterested in every other participant. Nervously, you stepped onto the last step, his form looming over you.
Father Aegon’s eyes bore into yours as they glimmered, unnatural they were, but he would just deny the accusation. He presented the host, and carefully he placed it in your mouth. His eyes studied the way your tongue nervously peeked out of your mouth, the way your large pupils stared into his own with such innocence and devotion.
Aegon imagined you would look even better on your knees.
“The body of Christ,” he proclaimed as he studied the way your throat moved as you swallowed the host. “Amen,” you mumbled out so quietly even his advanced set of ears struggled to hear. Your eyes watched him carefully as he turned to pass the chalice of wine to you. Quite the attentive little thing you were.
A moment later, he handed you the chalice with a light smile. The golden cup was unsteady as your hands trembled for an unknown reason. A strange feeling continued to creep up your spine as you lost yourself in his gaze. Perhaps it was due to the fact you hadn’t seen a man with his appearance in your entire life. If you were allowed to think such, he could be considered devastatingly beautiful.
The liquid slipped from the chalice and into your mouth. Instead of the warmth of Christ coating your senses, you felt your throat constrict and a harsh itch causing you to choke. You nearly dropped the holy cup to the floor as you tried to force yourself to swallow, his hand caught it before it could hit the floor, eyebrows raised as he studied you closely, listening to the rapid beat of your heart.
It burned in an unfamiliar way, as if you were being poisoned, and soon the taste of the communion wine coated your mouth with its putrid flavor you weren’t used to. Panic settled in your veins as your mind raced with explanations, fear of damnation.
Aegon smiled a small, amused grin which caught you off guard. He looked deeply into your eyes, his own burning with a mix of hunger as one hand slowly rose to wipe the wine from your lip. You couldn't look away as he brought his finger to his mouth and licked the liquid away, humming lowly. “Tastes like shit, doesn’t it?”
Your breath caught in your throat as your mouth gaped in shock. This was your Lord's blood, this was a sacred ceremony. How could he say something so vulgar. Aegon cleared his throat, lazily moving his hands to make the sign of the cross. “The blood of Christ,” he spoke louder than necessary. “Amen.”
You bowed your head, fingers gripping tightly onto the hem of your dress as you scurried away. The rest of mass you sat in utter silence, your gaze casted onto the floor. What the hell was happening to you? You had accidentally disassociated throughout the rest of communion, whatever prayers and hymns were sung you did not hear. You denied Marishka’s invitation to supper, instead running straight to your room to find solace in isolation.
Sleep once again eluded you the night after communion. It did not matter how much you tossed and turned, the sheets felt suffocating and your blood burned beneath your skin. Each time you began to drift your mind wandered where it shouldn’t, thoughts you hadn’t had before crept into your subconscious. Why did you choke? You’d never done anything like that before.
It felt as if the wine itself was rejecting you, deeming you unholy and not worthy of swallowing it. That terrified you, what had you done to deserve such a punishment? Nothing, you’ve done nothing in your existence that was against neither god nor man. You sat in bed, tearing the cloth that shielded you from prying eyes. It was better, but it was not enough. You swiftly leaned over in bed, pushing the tiny window up so the cold air could enter. Finally, your lungs seemed to inhale deeper, a blanket of ice wrapping around your flesh and easing the constant heat.
Out of thought and out of mind you murmured to yourself as you laid back down, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought-
In your dreams you mindlessly roamed the halls, drawn to an unknown location. Through the darkness you eyed a crack in a doorway, golden light emitting into the hallways. You stalked closer, carefully angling yourself so you could peek inside without being caught. It took you a moment to recognize the sounds, quiet giggles, panting breaths, soft murmurs, and vulgar noises coming from a female. It made your skin crawl.
You could make out three figures on the lavish bed, which you noted was much more posh than your own. Their bodies intertwined around each other and fully nude. There was something strange about it, each of them were glistening as if their skin was damp with water. Quietly, you sunk to your knees, bending your neck so you could truly focus in. As your pupil dilated, your mouth gaped in shock, thank god no noise came out.
They were there, you mean, the sisters and a strange man were all there. Their skin covered in what you could only assume was blood due to the red tint and they were… coupling. Or were they devouring him? Quickly you rose to your feet, silently scurrying away to not draw attention. Your heart raced as you neared your chambers, reaching your hands out into the darkness grasping for salvation.
Your body collided with something hard, arms reaching around to blindly grab hold of it. The pale moonlight illuminated the silver locks adorning his head, violet eyes and white teeth glowing against the dark. Priest Aegon. You looked back down in shame, your eyes had deceived you. You were not in the halls, no. Instead, in his chamber.
“Are thou alright, sister?” He asked in a gentle voice, a hand resting on your cheek, caressing the warm skin. You aren’t sure why your body refused to move or why your hands refused to release their hold on him. It felt as if your blood had turned into lead, weighing you down. Your eyes trailed up to his face, purposefully avoiding the lack of clothing or cotton bottoms he adorned which hid nothing.
“I- Methinks I was sleepwalking.”
Aegon’s fingers pulled your chin up, the corner of his lip tugging into a grin. Your brain was a fog, a mist, unable to process what was happening. He was leaning in, and the smell of wine and musk blinded your sense. You felt his lips brush past your ear, a chill running down your spine.
“And thy subconscious brought thou to me. Could it be that you’ve been dreaming of me?” The words were whispered like a secret, a taboo, a forbidden thing. Aegon’s words enticed you, which they shouldn’t, it is immoral and sinful. Your heart raced at the thought, “yes,” you breathed out.
Your hand reached up to rest against his bare chest, feeling his heart thump in the same erratic pace. “I’ve been dreaming of thou too, little lamb.” A hand found its way to your neck, his lips grazing over yours as he spoke. “Each time, thou devote yourself to me merely and i consume thou wholly. Keeping thou inside me eternally.” Your stomach flipped, a tightness building in the pit of your abdomen. It was sinful, it was wrong, it was utterly obscene.
And yet you sunk further into him, lips parting and inviting him to ravish you. His hands slipped under your dress, cupping your bottom and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, his cock pressing against your sensitive region. Aegon climbed on top in a familiar way, his soft lips dancing with yours.
Your head felt fuzzy and light, the sensation of his touch overwhelming and euphoric. You lost control of yourself, abandoning the vows and purity you swore. You were so lost, consumed by lust and sin. He pressed his hips against yours, rubbing against you. Aegon’s lips trailed down your jaw, peppering kisses along your neck.
He moved away from you and for a moment you mourned his touch, yearning to have him close to you once more. You observed him with lidded eyes as he kneeled down between your thighs. He was beautiful, a divine image of an angel sent to heal you. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as your scent, little lamb.” The father muttered before pushing up the skirts of your dress, he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.
The warmth of his breath tickling the most sacred area. His strong hands gripped your thighs, holding them down. Aegon licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves into your body. You couldn't help but completely lose yourself to him. You never imagined such pleasure could be given, and by a man of god.
The father's tongue circled your clit, sucking on it gently. Aegon pulled away and pushed a finger inside you, a quiet gasp escaped your lips, a foreign pleasure spreading through you. He began to pump his finger in and out of you, curling his fingers, stroking a bundle of nerves that sent electricity through your body.
Your head began to spin, pleasure consuming your every thought. A pressure began to build within you, an indescribable sensation that only grew. His tongue traced intricate patterns onto your core, suckling on the sensitive bundle. ”p-please father,” you begged, though you were not sure what. Aegon chuckled and the vibrations made your eyes roll in the back of your skull. Your sense of reality had all but abandoned you, your head was stuck in the cloud as if you had ascended to heaven.
You felt your body shake and the tension in your abdomen snap. It was as if your soul was torn out of you, the euphoria so intense it was almost painful. You felt dazed, lost in a trance, and unable to move. However, as you glanced up you no longer saw your angelic priest.
Instead, a demon gazed down upon you. The beautiful face now morphed into a twisted image, fangs protruding from its jaw, and eyes glowing a sinister crimson. Its mouth opened, a forked tongue slipping out and licking a path up your thigh. Your mind started to clear, terror seeping its way in your heart, and before you could scream for help it sunk its fangs deep within the flesh.
knock knock
You jolted awake, grabbing the skin around your neck and chest as your frantic breathing cut through the silence. It was only a nightmare, you muttered to yourself. You shifted in place, feeling something cool beneath your bum. Gazing down at the creased sheets, the sight of a sopping wet spot on the cloth made your stomach churn.
knock knock knock
“Sister! Tis time to wake!” The door handle wiggled, the sound of locks echoed throughout the room. “Y-yes, sister!” Hurriedly you rushed to the water basin to try and clean off the sinful stain, but as you stood your head began to pound. It was as if a needle pricked at the backs of your eyes. To add further to the misery, an instant dizziness overtook you as your legs buckled beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.
Horror flooded into your veins, was this a divine punishment for what happened in your thoughts? It was pure carnal desire, a disgusting and immoral craving. This was a divine warning, a sign that if you don't rectify your sins soon you will be punished. You scrambled to your feet, putting on the clothes necessary to venture to the altar and pray for forgiveness.
You flung open the door and hurried out, leaving a bewildered sister behind. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, passing a group of befuddled visitors in your wake. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of your actions began to crush you. As soon as you reached the altar seating in front of the statue of God himself you fell to your knees.
The sickness he has placed upon you was a warning, the dreams you were having were cursed. You felt as if eyes were always watching, a shadow lurking around every corner. The walls seemed to be closing in on you, the air thick with regret. You bowed your head, clasping your hands together in front of you.
You prayed on your knees every day for the next week. Each night you dreamt of him, he was a devil, a temptress pulling you into sin. You had to rid yourself of the thoughts. Each day, you would pray, and each night you would dream. Your own mind began eating itself alive, the constant fear and paranoia taking its toll on your body. There wasn’t a day in the past weeks where you did not feel exhausted or sickly.
It was only an amount of time before you fell from grace, perhaps died from stress. You have felt like an animal hiding in the skin of a holy nun. No matter how many times you scrubbed yourself, you still felt the filth from your nights. It was only a matter of time until they found out, until the others saw. It was past time you confessed to your crimes and beg the lord directly for forgiveness, you could let these ill feelings fester no longer.
You’d never had to take a confessional in your life except for when you first became a sister. Since then, you have remained in good standing. It was an awkward thing, especially since the only confessor was the priest. You knew you could tell him anything, he was the voice of god, yet a larger part of you was frightened too.
The idea of seeing him, knowing what you dreamt, was terrifying. But you had no choice, you needed to seek repentance, or else your mind would eat itself alive. As you walked to the confessional, a familiar feeling of eyes burning holes in the back of your skull followed. You begrudgingly pushed through, waltzing towards the steps of the lord. It was darker than usual, the storm brewing outside mimicking your internal warfare. The quiet cracks of distant lighting illuminating the statue of Christ, in a haunting way.
It lacked a confessional, though one was being built in the far side of the room, until the carpenter disappeared. Unfinished and unused it sat and a part of you envied it, for now you felt sullied. The soft pitter patter of footsteps approaching from the hall echoed throughout the chapel, growing closer. A lump formed in your throat, nerves eating you from the inside. You felt him kneel next to you, his head tilting to gaze at you. “Come to confess, little lamb?” His words came out in a purr. The script you had rehearsed vanished into the void and your mouth dried up. “How’d thou wot?”
Aegon raised a hand and tucked a stray hair under your veil. “I’ve taken notice of thy ailments as I hast taken notice of the lack of thy presence. I wot all that goes on inside these walls.”
“Then I suppose I hast no choice,” you sucked in a deep breath, chewing at your bottom lip. Aegon beckoned you to continue, his face laced with curiosity and understanding. “Forgive mine, Father for I hast sinned,” the words rushed out of your throat. “I hast been having dreams of late. The most intricate and vivid dreams I hast had ere. 'i mine sleepless nights I see things that I shouldn’t and doth things with thou that are deemed unholy. I betray mine God and worship only thou. ” You released the breath you were holding, awaiting his response.
He moved closer to you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. "Tis not wrong to worship I, his voice and his will join through me. I grant thou what he not, if only thou speak to me.” Aegon’s violet eyes gleamed, and his smile divine yet twisted. “Wouldst thou like to live eternally? Wouldst thou like to feel ecstasy?”
“What will you from me?” The words left you silently, your own voice unrecognizable to your ear. "Remove thy dress as I will guide thou thumb," His hand slipped from the veil and caressed the soft skin of your cheek, a thumb grazing your lips. His hand caressed yours, his warm touch sinking your mind further into the clouds. At first, you moved away, some semblance of sense still lingering within.
“Dost thou not desire what I giveth freely?” Aegon’s eyes were so magnetic, pulling you closer into his gravity. You could not deny him, nor did you want to. You shook your head quietly, beckoning him to continue. He guided your hands to the string lacing together your blouse, pulling them apart. One by one the threads popped, a slow and tantalizing pace. The fabric slid off your shoulders, exposing the tender skin underneath. Your heart beat flurried, some remnant of holiness trying to will you to stop. “Such beautiful skin thou hast,” Aegon murmured, his nose brushing against your neck.
A soft kiss was pressed into the side of your neck, his teeth lightly dragging along the flesh. You gasped, your eyes closing. You were lost in a fog, unable to think clearly or make rational decisions. Father Aegon guided your hands to the waist of his skirt, slowly pulling it down. Your eyes shot open, watching his cock spring free from the cloth.
The tip was a soft pink, one large vein running down the middle. You were clueless as to what to do. You felt his fingers slip under your veil, gripping onto your hair. “I will guide thy mouth,” he purred, as if he read your mind. Father Aegon stood up, “like this,” his hand guided yours, stroking him slowly.
You leaned in, pressing your lips against the tip, the skin velvety and hot. Your tongue darted out, licking his tip. You could feel him throb within your grip, his eyes glazing over with lust. Father Aegon pushed your head down, forcing the head past your lips.
His hips began to rock, pushing deeper into your mouth. It was difficult not to choke, the saliva in your mouth gathering quickly. The sounds of his pleasure were like choirs of angels to your ears, serenading you into a trance. Your jaw ached, drool dribbling down the side of your mouth and the length of him.
He pushed your head down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes welled with tears and he admired their glistening beauty. You were utterly perfect for him, he decided, a divine blessing. You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but the dull ache between your legs blinded you. A few small whimpers escaped your throat as you dropped your hand to ease the feeling between your thighs. Aegon released your head, a strand of spit connecting his cock and your lips.
Father Aegon gripped your cheek, colliding his lips with yours. He devoured you as if it was his last meal, as if your lips were the sole path to redemption. His tongue darted out, swirling around your mouth and relishing in your sweet taste. Your mind grew hazy, lack of breath making you dizzy, but you could not pull back. You had desired his touch more than you have ever before.
You whimpered into his mouth, the feeling of his body pressed against yours was indescribable. His firm hands gripped your waist, pushing you on the ground. “Thou look so ethereal underneath me,” he panted out in between breaths. “Wouldst thou like to feel me inside thee.” Aegon rubbed his cock against your heat, your juices coating him.
“P- please Father, I need thou,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his torso pulling him closer. “Needy little lamb, aren’t thou?” His cock pressed into, slowly stretching you to fit him. You let out a moan, a sound you didn’t know you could make. Your fingers found their way into his dress shirt, gripping onto him as he pushed himself inside you.
“Confess sister, how did you allow me to defile you,” he thrusted inside you, filling you completely. You could not think straight, his cock hitting the bundle of nerves that made you squirm. “Confess,” he beckoned before he began slipping himself out of you. “N-no I confess,” you whimpered. Aegon began to slam back into you, a rhythmic pace that made you see stars.
“I- I confess father, I let thou defile me, I dream of thou fingers inside m-” Aegon suckled on your ear, “more,” he growled. “I- I- I dream of your tongue bringing me p- pleasure- every night.” He thrusted into you harder, the sounds of his cock slamming inside you echoing.
He was a god, a divinity sent to bring you to madness and bliss. Aegon had bewitched you body, mind, and soul as you him. “I dreamt thou devouring me,” you screamed out, your legs shaking. Aegon grabbed your hips, digging his nails into the skin to keep you in place. “Wouldst thou like to stay with me forever?” The father’s hips snapped as he pushed deep inside, his cock pulsating. You could feel him inside your womb, his hand pressing down on your lower stomach to feel himself.
Your head spun as the coil inside you began to unwind, the intensity of ecstasy blurring your being. “Y- yes Aegon,” you whimpered out, tears welling in your eyes. His thrusts began to stutter, his pace faltering. Your cunt tightened around him,the muscles in your stomach clenched as a wave of pleasure began to overcome you. “Dost thou swear thyself to me forever,” he whimpered.
“Aegon!” you screamed out, eyes fluttering open. The coil in your stomach snapped, eyes widening moments before you saw his fangs sink into your neck…
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Text
His Love
|Aegon Targaryen x Fem!Reader|
Part Thirty-Three
Masterlist of Series
Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.
Author's Note: I just wanted to warn y'all that we're going to be getting into some messed up shit here. Even more messed up than assault, getting drugged, nearly raped, and peeing on yourself. As always, thank you so much for your patience with these updates, and I hope you enjoy!
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Chapter Warnings: Graphic depictions of a miscarriage and related thoughts, vomiting, daddy Daemon.
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The prescribed charcoal remedy had long dried on your stomach, cracking and flaking gray chunks into your sheets. Helaena had left with the sun low in the sky, leaving chaste kisses on yours and Aegon's foreheads. She went to ensure Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were comfortable, and they went down to rest.
Aegon refused to move when the Maester returned for the evening; his arm slung over your chest and nose buried into your neck. Orwyle did his work as if the Prince was not there, wringing a damp, woolen cloth into a bowl of cool water as he removed the hardened remedy from your abdomen.
He observed with wrinkled brows when he saw the Valyrian symbols above your womb, rocking the fabric over your malleable skin as he quelled the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He rinsed the material, the clear water becoming ash as he continued his duties.
Orwyle longed to voice his concerns regarding your health, fiddling with his fingers as he concocted another batch of charcoal and clay. You needed to wake soon so he could ensure your best chance of survival. The first forty-eight hours were the most crucial for those battling Poison Hemlock, and the fact that the Stranger had not taken you was a miracle. Animals who ingested the flowering plant died within a day of doing so, their lungs giving out or seized by convulsions.
The Maester believed you were more robust than he thought. The Mother had unquestionably blessed you with the strength of the Warrior to have you breathing for this long. Or perhaps, he thought, it was the Valyrian Gods of your ancestors, the dragon blood in your veins, that protected you.
The few interactions Orwyle had with you always left him with a joyful feeling, a small ray of light within his darkened quarters filled with dusty and ancient tomes. He tried not to care for your health more than that of a provider and his patient, but he found it challenging.
It was the dichotomy, he thought, of when you were awake, full of life, sparring with words and the swords against men who believed themselves better than you, to now, laying on your soft feather tick mattress with an emotionless, sallow hue to your skin. It caused him anguish. Orwyle was determined to find out who would do such a thing to you, uncharacteristically desiring them to be brought to the Father's justice, and resolved to remind Aegon of the need to do so when your two servants entered the chamber.
Once he finished making another concoction, Aegon waved him off, leaving with a firm yet uneasy bow to the room. The moment he left, Aegon stood, righting his rumpled tunic from his few restless hours of sleep, and addressed Fiora and Jeyne.
"What news have you?" he asked pointedly, gathering the ashy mucilage and brush to apply to your abdomen.
The maids shared a look, Fiora's eyes seeming to have never dried up as she cowered behind her companion. Jeyne inhaled a resolute breath. Her years of working for spoiled, impuissant palace goers was a typical occurrence.
"We have found a servant boy who claims to have seen the Princess's protector enter her chambers hours before your discovery. I believe that there is no coincidence to his absence at her door during that time," she relayed in one steady breath, hands clasped humbly over her lower abdomen.
Aegon grunted, disbelieving the credibility of such a statement. It would be the most obvious answer for Ser Arryk to be the culprit. He was heartbroken that his idyllic image of you shattered and the only one besides Aegon who could get close enough to slip poison in unnoticed. The answer was too simple, too straightforward to be true. A lowly kingsguard was the easiest to blame to save face within the royal family and protect whoever really did this. He still had the feeling within him that his mother had something to do with this. It was no coincidence that days prior, the Queen demanded you to leave, and now suddenly, you were at death's door.
Yes, heartbroken and ego-damaged men were a danger to those around them. Aegon understood that more than any, but Arryk would never go so far as to kill you for it. His oath was still to that of the King.
"Bring me this boy," Aegon said dispassionately, never looking in the maid's direction, simply painting your skin.
Fiora and Jeyne nodded, curtsying as was protocol, and headed for the exit until Aegon stopped them short.
"I'm sure you know that the Hand has barred any ravens from King's Landing to Dragonstone," he inquired, unamused as a sneer curled his lip. "Her family must know what has happened here. The more who know about this assassination attempt on a, perhaps this rat will feel pressured reveal themselves."
They both glanced at each other, Fiora gnawing on her lip as more tears emerged from her viridian eyes. Aegon ignored the servant's weeping and placed the bowl on a writing desk with the rest of the Maester's equipment. He pulled a piece of folded cream parchment from his trousers and hurriedly scribbled, fearing someone getting wind of his plan.
"Here is a letter meant for her father," he stated, flicking the paper between his index and middle finger. "You will not be able to send it through the rookery and must go to a brothel madame within the slums of Flea Bottom. Her name is Babette and she will ensure that my words make it to Dragonstone unhindered," Aegon instructed calmly.
They were stunned. Both maids stood in the doorway to your chambers with slightly parted lips, reminding him of a fish. They had never seen him act like such a... prince. He was raised within the castle walls and had the highest education of anyone in Westeros, yet he never seemed to take advantage of it. The maids heard rumors that Aegon was no longer seen at brothels or gambling houses, though they did not believe such a thing to be valid until now.
Fiora's gaze drifted to your listless form, fiery brows arched in disbelief, slowly drifting back to the white-haired prince. Jeyne was the first of the duo to compose herself and briskly walked forward, taking the wax three-headed dragon seal to her cracked hands. You had changed Aegon in ways that people believed impossible, and if she hadn't realized it until now, then who else knew?
If she, someone who saw you daily, did not know the effort and influence you had over a person, did anyone? The eldest maid felt a pang of sadness in her heart for you as weathered eyes lowered to the stone floor, the memory of her scrubbing away your blood and bile replaying as if she were there again.
Jeyne heard passing gossip that you had brought up concern for the small folk during a council meeting. It was fleeting, nothing more than a whisper of a feather drifting in the wind, and soon she forgot about it. What other accomplishments had you done that no one knew of? It was the plight of women, it seemed, to sacrifice one's soul to receive respect or recognition in the world. Once you awoke, she would tell you how much she saw and that your actions were not in vain.
If you woke up, she grimly realized.
A frown pulled at Jeyne's thin lips as she returned to Fiora's side. Her companion seemed to sense the elder's thoughts, placing a comforting hand at her back. Again, She faced Aegon, his violet eyes never leaving hers as she spoke.
"You are changed, Prince Aegon, and while that does not atone for the wrongs you have done, it shows that you are capable of being better," Jeyne expressed with a firm look on her visage. "It would do her well to know that."
Aegon needn't ask whom she was speaking of. He already knew, a sullen look coming over his face as he focused on the cracks of the stone floor. The memory of your limp body when he found you vividly displayed in his mind's eye.
Jeyne and Fiora exited with brief nods and bent knees, with two different goals in mind. The elder would get the servant boy, and the younger would go to the brothel, madame. They didn't ask why Aegon trusted this woman, but they knew it was useless to try. All that mattered now was ensuring your safety and justice.
A quiet groan caused Aegon to lose his collection of thoughts, swiftly going to your side as he watched your brows arch in pain. Droplets of sweat he had not noticed glistened on your hairline and ran down your temples, grabbing a cloth to blot at the excess perspiration. Your breathing sped, breasts rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm. Seeing you more alive as Aegon rang the dampened fabric into the bowl was a relief.
Aegon slid into his place next to you, intertwining his fingers with your limp ones as he brought your knuckles to his lips, stroking the thin skin of your hand. His lips pursed in thought. Aegon knew the Keep was full of snakes ready to strike at any opportunity to raise themselves into higher power, no matter the cost. But in his mind, it was too risky to harm a member of the royal family, but others did not seem to share the same sentiment, and anger filled his hardened soul once more.
Aegon tightened his grip on your hand, harsh enough to bend their sides and crackle the bones.
"When you wake, little one, we shall rain dragon fire on who dared hurt you," he declared, sullen face now calloused.
If you wake...
***
You found yourself within a void, darkness surrounding your body clad in a simple white gown. You couldn't see the beginning or end of where you were, as if your eyes were shut, an unending blackness never touched by light. Your hands found their way to your face, fingertips touching your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and the sockets of your eyes to ensure you were, in fact, real.
Memories flashed within your mind, becoming the only thing you could see in the infinite darkness. You recalled voices, wet mouths talking and drinking, tongues licking lips and tasting something rancid and sweet, hands gesturing and twitching, crawling up your legs. Nausea churned your stomach, and pain rippled in your gut, causing you to fall to your knees. The ground was solid; it was real, and suddenly your eyes opened.
The world was still midnight, though you could see a man before you.
But it wasn't a man...
You weren't sure if it was a person, their face covered with an obsidian mantle and the seven-pointed star's insignia woven into their robes. Fear cinched your heart, and your chest rose and fell with quick breaths as you attempted to run, only to be flung back into your spot by an invisible force.
"Who-" you stammered, breaths coming in quick pants, "who are you? Where am I? I-I cannot see."
The being reached an arm in your direction, the fabric slowly drawing back to reveal its skin or lack thereof. Their finger slowly traced down your cheek, cold and warm, comforting and alarming, yet like nothing simultaneously.
"I am what I am," they stated, tone unlike anything you had ever heard. It sounded like the voices of many speaking simultaneously, men, women, children, and everything in between melting into one eerie noise.
"You're here to hurt me, aren't you?" The words did not sound like they came from a grown woman; instead, a young girl high-pitched and hoydenish with fright as tears lined your lashes. Your breath hitched as their fingers left your skin, fear scratching at your throat and squeezing your eyes shut. "Where am I?"
The being stepped backward, seeming to float on the ground as sparkles of white flashed in the air. Stars, you realized, twinkling in the infinite void. For a moment, you were put into a state of wonder, gazing at the bursts of light in awe as the being only stared. It made no movements nor breaths, allowing you to take in the amazement of your surroundings.
"Am I dead?" you asked, finally gaining the courage to voice the most prevalent question in your mind.
"You are in the world between worlds, child. Not dead yet not alive within the realm of your creation," they answered with not a hint of emotion.
You couldn't hide the aghast sob that left your lips at his revelation, your mind reeling. You knew what happened for you to wake here. You drank from a cup tainted with poison that caused your limbs to freeze and your brain to wave, but who did it was unknown. The only picture within your mind was a silhouette of a figure with short, mousy hair and a slouched posture, supporting their weight on something.
You knew who they were. You felt it in your bones, but your mind refused to let you see. Was that your psyche subconsciously trying to protect you, or did the poison affect your memory?
"I don't want to die! What did I do to deserve this?" you wept with blurred vision, looking at the unmoving being before you.
You felt them sigh, though they did not move, their chest not indicating if they had lungs. "New born babes should not be taken from the world before they can sin, yet they are."
An involuntary grimace pulled your face as you licked the briny water from your lips. The world was cruel and uncaring. It took children from mothers before they were ready and kind people into places of darkness. Life was bleak and hopeless and full of negativity. At times, you wondered if there was a point to living when life would always end the same—breathing, eating, fighting, and suffering until you died and were forgotten a hundred years from now.
"I know who you are," you spat, tongue thick as you swallowed tears. "You are a callus and heartless being who takes those undeserving while displaying yourself in a cloak of self-righteousness."
They did not seem angry about what you said and tilted their head in response, examining you like one of Helaena's pinned insects. Its unseen stare unnerved you, appearing like a statue you never prayed to within the Sept. Anger began to well in the place of your unease at their indifference, taking purposeful strides to them before your body was abruptly taken aback, nearly tripping over your feet.
"I am neither good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine."
It raised the same arm that stroked your cheek and pointed at you, causing panic to grip your chest as the shrouded hands shoved you to the ground, air knocking from your lungs. You struggled against them, the whites of your eyes visible as your arms and legs flailed in their vice-like grip. The being came closer, towering over your writhing form until you could see what hid underneath the obsidian hood.
A face not of this world looked down at you, half human and inhuman, alive yet dead. It was too much for your mind to comprehend as you released a scream, kicking your limbs as you desperately tried to escape from whatever fate awaited you.
The hands pulled at your hair, keeping your head down and unable to see the face of the Stranger any longer.
"No! No, please! I don't want to die!" you beseeched, throat raw from tears and screams as your wide-eyed stare found the Stranger at your feet once more.
"I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood and I have come to take what is mine—one soul. No less," they repeated in an amalgamation of different tones. Your heart broke for the loss not only of life but of what might be.
The Stranger's accusing finger continued to point not at you but at your stomach, your misty stare flickering from yourself to them.
You knew what was to come next. They would rip your heart out before your very eyes, crushing your life source within the secular realm and the divine. You would never wake again, never feel the sun flush your skin or the wind whipping your cheeks on dragon back. Aegon would revert to his old ways of whoring, gambling, and drinking himself into unconsciousness, a crown forced on his head as the realm plunged into war and your kin were slaughtered. Every sacrifice would be for not all due to one simple drink.
Refusing to resign to your fate, you thrashed and screamed in failed attempts at breaking free. There was no escape to this realm—no beginning or end in the vast darkness. There was only you, these unseen hands pulling you into submission, and the Stranger, his digit still raised and pointed.
"What have I done to deserve this?" you wailed, feeling your limbs locked at the joints. "I-I know I was not a devoted follower of the Faith and have sinned, but I repent. I'll pay penance to the Seven each day forth from now on. I'll attend services in the Grand Sept. I'll-I'll refrain from any vices you so wish. Just let me live!"
Your bargaining with the faceless being went unheard, his arm slowly falling to its side as you felt the hidden fingers slither across your abdomen, tearing your nightgown down the middle. Your eyes grew wide with horror, attempting to pry them away with panicked movements only to be thwarted by the others pushing your limbs into the ground.
"Stop!" you screamed, voice cracking as your neck was whipped back, head cracking onto the ground as your vision flashed.
Though you couldn't see them, you could feel them. Their digits indented into your malleable flesh as it broke under pressure, blood seeping from the gashes as a searing pain tore like a thousand cuts of a hot blade through your skin. Blood poured from your stomach and down your sides, soaking your tattered porcelain nightgown into a stained crimson. Wailing in agony, your throat grew sore, limbs twisting and contorted into inhuman positions as you gave under their ravenous scratching.
"Blessed be you, the daughter of the Mother bound to suffer eternal through the sins of your father committed long before your conception," the Stranger prayed, words carrying over your cries. "Blessed be your whore mother, tired and angry, waiting with bated breath on a ferry that will never move again. Blessed be the children. Each and every one who have come to know their god through some senseless act of violence."
The exposed image of your essence caused your heart to become faint, the torment fading into the back of your mind as your vision fluttered and your head became light. It was a small mercy in the ruthless death that you could no longer feel the torture of your organs torn into, limbs twitching in subconscious reflexes.
"Blessed be you, girl, promised to me by a man who can only feel hatred and contempt towards you."
The squelching of your insides was sickening as silent tears leaked down your temples, confused as to how you were still alive. No human could survive being disemboweled; the blood loss alone would kill the most robust of men, yet the invisible beings continued to burrow into your insides, seeming as if in search of something.
The Stranger did not move from its place at your feet, observing as your intestines glistened in the twinkling lights of the void.
You felt betrayed by them and those who preached that the Stranger was not a being of good or evil. They were supposed to guide you into the afterlife, not watch as beings threw your organs to the side. They lied. No being would stand there and allow a daughter of the Mother to have her insides turned out. You never feared the Stranger yourself. Death was inevitable, but now you understand why followers of the Seven feared the Stranger.
Cries that were higher pitched than yours yanked you into reality, a single thread pulling your gaze back to your stomach as a babe covered in crimson, glistening with your essence, was ripped from your womb. Confusion, fear, surprise, and desperation surged through you, attempting to pry yourself from your confines again. The cord connecting the child to you still pulsed with blood through the purple and blue veins as it was taken and placed into the hands of the Stranger.
"What are you doing?" you questioned with a thick tone, panic seizing your limbs as you broke from their unseen grip. 
That was yours—something you made solely of your labor, and they were taking it from you. It belonged to you!
You desperately yanked at the fleshy cord still connecting you to your child, the babe's shriek piercing your ears and into your heart. "Please, give it back!" you sobbed, reaching out again only to be shoved. "No! No, please! Please give me back my child! They are mine! They don't deserve this."
You were unsure of what came over you. You had never met this creature before, though it was born of your flesh and blood; you did not want them taken. An instinct to protect the life of something so fragile and innocent lay dormant within your body, coming to fruition. The thought of sacrificing yourself in the babe's place nearly slipped off your tongue, but a sudden light blinded you, pushing the cries of your kin to fade as your eyes burned.
When you came to, you were no longer in an infinite void. Instead, within your chambers, thick, fragrant smoke choked your lungs as the same searing agony from before tore through you. Aegon stood over your writhing form, and his brows arched with concern as he saw your sheets become scarlet.
You stared at him, his eyes glassy and filled with an exhausted longing, as he rushed to your side, grasping your slick palm. "You're alive!" he exclaimed, unable to think clearly through his shock. "You're alive."
Unable to speak, you nodded, sweat and tears dampening your face as another wave of pain knotted within your lower back, forcing a scream. Aegon's violet eyes danced over you, seeing your blood now spread onto your top blanket as his cheeks became devoid of color.
An array of thoughts swirled within his mind like a maelstrom at sea, swiftly lifting the sheet away as he saw the crimson between your legs. His first instinct was to believe that, somehow, the assassin had returned underneath his watchful gaze, paranoia seizing his chest. But Aegon, still confused as to what was happening, gripped your hand impossibly tighter, causing a groan that rumbled in your lungs.
"The Maester," you managed to breathe through gritted teeth. "Get the Maester, Aegon."
He paused for a moment too long, and another cramp went through you, wailing with a clenched jaw and shut eyes as your body arched in pain. The prince did not need to be told twice as he watched the woman he loved beg the Gods for mercy, swiftly exiting your room as he ran to Orwyle's chambers, your cries becoming distant within the pale red stone walls.
The man in question opened the door with tired eyes to the Prince's incessant pounding. He did not need him to explain. He knew it had something to do with you as he hastily gathered supplies and the seven-pointed star necklace on his person. What Orwyle did not expect to see when he entered your humid chambers were you on all fours, grunting and straining with blood-soaked hands and bedclothes, sweat discoloring your once pristine nightdress.
He went quickly into action, ordering Aegon to summon your maids as he stood there listlessly, unable to comprehend the urgent words over the sounds of your shrieks. Aegon was unsure when he finally summoned Jeyne and Fiora, the pair looking perplexed before spotting their Lady. Both quickly went into action, following Maester Orwyle's instructions, scattering in and out of your chambers with different items.
Aegon could not think as he observed the events unfold before him. It was all too much. He couldn't process the abrupt chain of events. One moment, you were laying there, breaths barely audible, now suddenly panting and sobbing for an end he was not sure he wanted to see. Aegon did not know if this was an effect of the poison as his distant eyes met yours, lips mouthing something he strained to hear. He could not bear to lose you. He finally had love within his grasp after years of yearning only for it to be promptly taken away before properly basking in its warmth.
Aegon, who was so focused on the end of something, could not see the future before him, staring with violet-rimmed pupils within thick lashes, begging him to bring comfort. Finally, he could hear you, a rush of sounds and voices barraging his senses as you strained a grunt for him to come near.
You took his fist in yours, the other clutching the footboard as sweat ran down your neck. It felt as if your head was about to burst from your skull with each contraction, panting like an exerted animal.
"It's almost over now, Princess. You just need to pass the biggest part," encouraged Jeyne, a soothing maternal presence in a place that lacked it. "Come now. In through your nose and push out your mouth."
Nodding fervently, you did as told, inhaling deeply and growling with downward force, bringing your arm to wrap around Aegon for support. You needed the closeness and comfort a loved one brought as you went through this traumatic event.
Tears from above sprinkled on your damp hair. Streaks of wetness lined Aegon's cheeks as much as they did yours as another cramp rolled through you.
"What's happening?" he whispered against your cheek, breath uncomfortably hot.
Surprise dawned on your features as the pain ebbed for a merciful moment, resting on your knees. Your free hand grasped his silver roots in support as your other led Aegon down to your stomach, unable to speak. He stared with wrinkled brows and glassy purple eyes as you allowed him to apply pressure there. You need not tell him the reason in words as he glanced down. It could only be one thing.
"You are with child?" he questioned softly, tenderly stroking the area with his thumb.
You nodded, the cramps rising and commanding your body to gush more gelatinous blood. "I saw her. She was right there and they took her from me. Straight from my womb as she wailed."
"Who? Who took her from you?" he asked, free head tangling within your matted hair as you rested your forehead against his.
"The Stranger."
Aegon believed this to be the ramblings of someone in labor, the blood loss not helping to have a clear mind.
The death of a child, whether in this realm or within the womb, hurts immeasurably. The loss of something you could see and touch, something you formed a connection with, brought immense suffering to you and many of those around you, but it wasn't grief to bear alone. Having a life stolen from inside you created feelings of failure and doubts about your body's natural capabilities in isolation, morphing into self-blame and loathing of what could have been if only you were different.
But it was not your fault, not in this or any other sense. Your body did its natural process of protecting you, and even though you did not meet the child in its complete form, there was still a connection to mourn.
So deep within your thoughts, you did not hear the opening of oak doors, two pairs of footfalls storming into the room as your support was suddenly ripped away. Your fists balled into the crumpled sheets in compensation. Aegon struggled in Ser Criston's ironclad grip on his collar as you felt the sudden urge to push, push, push.
"Yes, Princess, yes! Keep going, more is coming out! You're almost finished," Fiora cheered, kneeling in Aegon's place as she clasped her fists around yours.
"Bring him back! I want Aegon!" you shouted. "I need him, please!"
At your cries, the Prince felt panic begin to take root, a terror and desperation to get to you that was so visceral that he did the only thing he could. Aegon growled and bit down on the fleshy part of Ser Criston's palm that met his thumb and forefinger, breaking the skin as blood stained his lips scarlet. The knight howled in pain, releasing the Prince on instinct as he attempted to return, only to have his mother stand in the way.
"Aegon, you needn't worry about her now. She is in capable hands," Alicent attempted to placate, her voice as gentle and maternal as when he was a child.
He paid no mind to her false coos and shoved the Queen out of his way, uncaring as she landed into a corner of furniture that stabbed her side. Ser Criston swiftly regained his composure at his Lady's shriek, once again grabbing Aegon by the fabric of his tunic and towards the exit.
"She is your Queen and mother! How dare you lay hands on her!" Criston admonished and struck the Prince with an armored grip upside his head as if he were no more than an insolent mutt.
You protested the action, begging the Queen, Ser Criston, the Maester, or anyone who would hear your pleas to bring Aegon back to you, but no one listened. The Queen was the highest authority in the room. Her word was law, and you were nothing but a lowly bastard dressed in fancy clothes and titles left without regard.
"Mother! Please, don't do this. She's with child!" the Prince beseeched, unruly locks of unkempt silver strewn across his pale face.
"Not anymore," Ser Criston jeered as his vision met the blood-stained sheets, dragging a raging Aegon away.
Alicent stood, righting herself and smoothing the fabric of her peridot gown with jeweled fingers. "You do not have the right to make such demands, Aegon. Leave at once. We shall discuss this later."
She couldn't stand to look at him, the shame of everything weighing heavier than all man's sins, as Alicent turned her brown orbs away from her son. He had sired bastards before, as had many Targaryen men, but one within his own house, with another bastard no less, was too much for the Queen's mind to comprehend.
The doors to your chambers slammed shut, rattling your bones as sobs of defeat tore through your throat. Your body did not allow you to mourn Aegon's absence, focusing your efforts as your muscles forcefully contracted, expelling the last of the thick matter out of your womb and onto the bedclothes. Fiora stroked your sweat-knotted hair as the pain subsided into dull cramps, reminding you of a particularly rough moon's blood, lungs slowly inhaling as your body relaxed.
Maester Orwyle began dabbing at your temples and neck as you sat, breathing heavily through your nose. "You did well, my lady," he praised quietly, glancing over his shoulder to Alicent, who stood staring into the hearth with her thumb in her mouth.
You sighed in acknowledgment, eyes briefly shutting as your fury gave you the energy to speak. "You are a cruel woman, Alicent." Your words were a dagger straight to her heart as you wiped your stained hands on your nightgown.
She turned to you and quickly placed her arms at her side, trying to put on an air of pomp that the situation did not need. "Tis hardly proper for a man to witness the pains of a miscarriage," she answered as if rehearsed.
"Proper?" you asked rhetorically. "I was dying and all you cared about was fucking propriety?" you snarled, rising to your knees with a wince, nerves alight.
The Queen did not dare say more, her conscience gnawing at the back of her mind like her teeth to her lip. "I know this was your doing," you spat, allowing Jeyne to help you onto your plush settee as the Maester began to clean your stained thighs.
The two women who had been with you since the moment you were forced to call the Red Keep a home gathered your soiled linens, stripping your bed without needing to be told. The sight brought warmth to your heart you had thought died moments ago. Through the brief time of Ser Dalton Greyjoy's presence to dutifully covering marks left behind from stolen moments with Aegon, Jeyne and Fiora's loyalty did not waver. Most maids would be eager to pass on gossip and rumors among the nobility for a chance at some coin. Or perhaps to provide themselves some entertainment in their less fortunate lives, but your two maidservants did not.
You were overwhelmed by a sudden gratefulness for them, longing to bring them into your embrace to sing praises and shout thank yous, but the Queen's looming presence forbade it. There was uncertainty about why she was here. Undoubtedly, the same woman who all but told you to leave King's Landing was not concerned for your well-being. You were hardly but an insect pestering her with your annoying, buzzing wings.
"Is it not enough that you've murdered the last remaining blood of my mother? Now you must take the life of my unborn child," you grunted, adjusting your position on the plush, emerald cushions as nausea struck through your core.
The Queen gasped, and everyone in the room looked weary, certain they were not supposed to hear this. "I would do no such thing, Princess," Alicent rebutted with a horror-stricken expression. "You are being unreasonable. 'Twas whoever snuck into your chambers and poisoned you that did this! Do not blame me for your misfortune."
A hollow laugh escaped your chest at her words, swallowing the bile that rose with the lingering cramps. "Oh, but how fortunate for you," you replied bitterly, the jab tasting acrid on your tongue. You wanted her to leave, to let you grieve the loss of a future you would never know, but she refused, implanting herself into the lives of others to ensure her gains were met. "Have I not earned my place here? Have I not sacrificed enough?"
"You know nothing of sacrifice," Alicent rejected quickly, snapping her avoidant gaze to yours.
"Don't I?" you chortled. The laughter sent your stomach into knots, but you pressed on, nudging Maester Orwyle away to stand upright, much to his concern. "Have I not done what you commanded of me? Kept your son from whoring and drinking himself to death on the streets of Flea Bottom? Do you remember the day you wrote to me? How you implored me to come to King's Landing and herd your son back to the Keep?" you sneered, tears of frustration and sadness welling in your puffy, bloodshot eyes.
No matter how desperately you wished to do so, you would not break in front of the Queen, heart empty as you spoke, blood trickling down your leg. "I have done what you asked and more. I've made Aegon understand the responsibility of his birth. He does not gamble or whore, gluttony is no longer a vice. He's become a better husband, brother, and father. He is everything you want him to be because of me!" Your voice wavered, barely containing a gag that pulled your lip muscles, threatening to become something more.
Realization struck you as you observed the Queen stand underneath your rage. All your life, you have served others to attain recognition in their eyes, whether to prove yourself competent or receive the love and acceptance every child craved. With your father, desperately eager to please him, to show him and all others that you were not the baseborn bastard daughter of a whore---that you could hold your own and make a name for yourself. Your desperation to prove yourself would be your downfall, but no longer would you allow yourself to be the subject of your insecurities. Worth was not dictated by what you did for others but by what you thought of yourself.
"Now that I no longer serve to further your schemes of putting Aegon on the throne, you see it fit to discard me as if I am nothing but a piece thrown about the board, sacrificed to achieve victory." Your anger was palpable, striking the Queen into her soul without physical action.
Alicent inhaled sharply, glancing at your maids and the Maester, who had all seemed to have halted their tasks. Your words were a mirror to her as anxiety began to flutter within her gut underneath so many stares. Hands once primly placed at her side were now picking at the skin of one another, a nervous tick she never broke. She did not know these people. She did not trust them not to run to the nearest lord, who was desperate for Rhaenyra's favor with word of treachery.
"What you claim is treason and not from a sound mind," she protested, her voice velvet. The Queen knew that if she spent a moment longer discussing secrets that had been unsaid, they would finally surface to harm the steps made to plant Aegon on the throne.
You opened your mouth to speak once more, but Alicent's smooth voice was quick to interject.
"Maester, I believe the Princess has gone into hysteria due to the poison. She is not thinking clearly."
You began to argue, but the feeling of nausea overcame you, and you quickly stumbled to your chamber pot as the little contents of your stomach exited. Fiora and Jeyne rushed to your side, holding your tangled strands from your face as the other rubbed soothing circles across your lower back.
"Her hysteria is dangerous to herself and those around her, Maester. I believe milk of the poppy will numb her mind enough until she is well again," Alicent said with pursed lips, staring down at your hunched back from under her nose.
Orwyle blanched, understanding that this was not a suggestion but a request. Who was he to deny the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms? "Your thoughtfulness for the Princess moves me deeply, your grace. However, any attempt to sedate her now would put her at more unneeded risk. She has lost far too much blood, and I must monitor her health."
The Queen's jaw clenched, teeth grinding at the man's tenacity. What did you have that gave people such a steadfast honor to protect you? Unlike her, you could not give them titles, land, or money in compensation. She was the Queen. They were supposed to serve her and bend to her will. Yet, they tended to your well-being with unyielding devotion, even in the face of one of Westeros's most influential people. Why did they not stand with her? Did a Queen not offer more than a bastard? Why not her? 
Why not me? Why not me? Why not me?
Envy ran hot through her veins at the thought. 
The three servants knew what this was—an attempt to control the situation and narrative, to prove that Queen Alicent would remain the all-encompassing figure of power and dominance, not some young, pretty bastard girl who bewitched all those around her.
"I shall not allow another danger to lurk about my home, especially one that deceives. We already have her assassin to worry about." She ignored your scoff, her words velvet but holding an icy undertone.
When Maester Orwyle did not move, Alicent shifted, palms conjoined just below her heart as she raised a manicured brow. "Do it Maester or I will have my guards do it for you."
He hesitated again, gaze flickering to your slouched one leaning onto your ladies for support. You gave him a solemn nod, conveying with a single look that you would not resist. If this would get Alicent to leave the four of you alone and allow you to mourn peacefully... so be it. It would be better for you and them. You would not have to think about what happened for at least a little longer, and perhaps the pain would be gone when you woke, and your beloved Prince would be at your side once more. But hope was a double-edged sword. Each side was as sharp and brutal as the other and cut equally profoundly.
***
The air was cold on Dragonstone, with a salty bite stinging Prince Daemon's flushed cheeks as he stood on a brimstone balcony overlooking where Blackwater Bay met the Narrow Sea. The moons spent without his daughter chipped at his war-hardened soul, revealing the center he kept tucked away, though many did not see it.
People believed Daemon to be a cruel, calculating man deserving of the title "Rogue Prince." And while they were not wrong, it did not mean that the same sentiment traveled to the treatment of his family. He was devoted to his wife, stepsons, and true-born children, tending to them as a shepherd would his flock. He no longer cared for the war in the Stepstones or any battle, focusing his efforts on the future, a future for his family that seemed to grow more uncertain as his brother's health declined.
While he did feel guilt knock at his hollow chest when he thought about his eldest daughter, the life she was born into, the life she was kept from and forced to live, he did not have regrets. Daemon would, a thousand times over, accept you into his heart.
You were a part of him he did not know was missing, fitting so perfectly into his cracked soul that not even Rhaenyra's love could mend. You are as much of his blood as the young Aegon, Viserys, and the babe that grew stronger every passing day within his wife's womb. There was a special connection between the two of you that only a father of a girl could comprehend. He now understood why his brother passed him in favor of Rhaenyra becoming heir, for if he had the choice, you would serve to inherit all he had.
Daemon longed to have you at his side again, listening intently to whatever thoughts, happenings, and plans you had. The council meetings around the Painted Table grew increasingly irksome as he patiently awaited your next raven. Rhaenyra brought Jace along to more than one gathering with the pompous lords. Daemon admired the boy's fire and tenacity, yet he always seemed to lack the mature awareness you seemed to possess—no doubt a byproduct of your vastly different upbringings.
It had been a sennight since your last word, the longest Daemon had ever waited, and he grew antsy with each passing hour. He found himself pacing the sandy beaches across the island, climbing the same mountains and hills he forced you to in training. Memories were what he felt he had left of you now and that of the written word.
"My love."
He heard his wife's tender voice calling him inside. "You will hear from her soon. I know it."
Rhaenyra's soft hand found Daemon's, bringing it to the growing bump underneath her Myrish lace dress. The notion grounded him as much as her as they pressed their foreheads together, sharing a kiss full of all the longing and melancholy he kept hidden within himself.
It was not until late evening, as he and his wife retired to their chambers for rest, that a footman knocked, revealing a single piece of parchment atop a bronze platter. Daemon's heart leaped for joy, knowing it could only be one thing, and he hastily tore at the three-headed dragon seal.
Rhaenyra allowed her husband to read in silence, brushing out her long, snowy hair as she hummed a tune her late mother used to sing, absentmindedly stroking the life tucked below her breast. When her task was done, and she had secured herself within her thick nightdress, she turned to Daemon, his hunched spine facing her over their shared writing desk.
"What news does she have, my darling?" Rhaenyra sang, combing a fragrant oil through her strands. She prodded him further at his silence, eager to know what her chosen daughter said. "Has another lord insulted her again? You mustn't worry about it like last time. She is more than capable of defending herself."
Daemon did not answer, a strained, choked sound that his wife had never heard before emitting from his throat. Rhaenyra turned, swiftly walking to him as she smoothed a palm down the crown of his head to his nape. "Love?"
"She's dying."
"What?" Rhaenyra stammered, taking a step back.
"She was poisoned. The Greens have obstructed all communications with Dragonstone, and the sender is unsure if she will be alive by the time I read this," he answered, paper trembling.
The shock paralyzed all rationality. Rhaenyra didn't know what to think or feel. "Who sent this to you?" she ardently asked. The world around her became fuzzy, and her head went light as she braced herself against the wooden desk.
Daemon flipped the parchment over, searching for any indication of who the sender could be, but found none. "It has the royal seal, yet there is no signage."
His wife had no answer, dread beginning to take hold of her chest as tears collected in her amethyst eyes. A sob escaped Rhaenyra. The pain, the suffering you must have been through, was enough to make her faint, knees buckling as she struggled to stay upright—her poor child. Poor perzītsos dampened until they snuffed out her flame.
Daemon was lost within the confines of his mind. Fear, betrayal, sadness, and anger coursed through him, roaring the dragon blood to life in his veins. 
He felt powerless living on an island away from the daughter he loved, unable to fulfill his role as father and protector. It was a failure on his part not to see what the Hightowers could do. Their schemes and treachery reached from King's Landing to Oldtown, an ancient family with roots among the elites of Westeros. There was a reason they held onto power for so long, and it was not by allowing one unexpected person to throw them awry.
Swiftly, Daemon stood, throwing the sturdy wooden chair behind him with the force of his legs. He gripped the letter with an iron fist, wrinkling the parchment under pressure as he went for the door.
"Daemon," Rhaenyra called, struggling to steady her breath. "Where are you heading?"
The Rogue Prince paused just before the exit, turning on his heel to face his wife, crumpled paper raised high in his hand.
"To burn that green bitch and her cunt father," he proclaimed, a fire within his voice that assured he would keep his word. "They will pay for what they have done to our daughter." 
Rhaenyra understood that convincing him otherwise was futile, and deep down, she didn't want to. Despite not being her biological child, she held you in her heart as her own. She wouldn't stand in the way of Daemon's quest for retribution, knowing that he would spare no effort if their roles reversed. With a brief nod, she left him and settled into a cushioned chair.
Daemon stormed through the brimstone halls of Dragonstone, leather riding boots echoing his every step. He had only one goal, one in which he had no care for the consequences of as he reached the cave where his ride was housed. The Rogue Prince climbed the ropes of Caraxes as the Keepers struggled to untether the beast, mounting atop his dragon and fastening the chains in the saddle.
The Blood Wyrm chirped with a puff of smoke through its nostrils as Daemon snapped the reins, sending the dragon forward and out of the cave. He did not care as the frigid wind cracked like whips against his exposed skin, flying higher—faster to his destination, death and destruction trailing behind beating crimson wings. His daughter would be avenged even if it meant the whole Keep would be nothing but ash and bone by sunset.
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Masterlist of Series
Daddy's on his way, babies! Are we excited? I know I am! I hope this chapter wasn't too sad for y'all. I've never had a miscarriage before or have been pregnant. I wanted to make the most accurate portrayal by talking with people I know who have had one or been pregnant. I apologize if I've offended or triggered anyone with what I wrote. Thank you again for your understanding and patience while waiting for these updates. Life has been chaotic!
Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @prettywhenicry4, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @heavenly1927, @hjgdhghoe, @im-sidney, @aurorathi, @marihoneywk, @xitsemm, @justbelljust, @qardasngan
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thedeathlysallows · 2 days
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Is It Over Now? (8)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon
Summary: When you lost control
Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest
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The king is dead.
The words ring through your mind repeatedly, a horrible reminder that everything is changing for better or worse.
"Aemond," you finally find your voice after what feels like (and likely is) hours. "Is it true? Is he..."
Aemond gives you a sad look and pulls you close against his chest. His lips press to the top of your head as he whispers his answer. "Yes."
You aren’t sure how to feel. You loved your grandfather, and he surely loved you, but you’re nervous for your mother. You’ve heard so many whispers throughout the Keep… whispers that spell disaster for your mother’s ascension to the throne. There are those that would see your mother dead before they see her as Queen, and you’ve got the sinking feeling your husband and his mother are at the head of that battle.
“The safest place for you is our bedchamber,” Aemond tells you, and your heart immediately drops to your stomach. “You must stay here.”
“And if I don’t?” You look up at Aemond, tilting your chin in defiance. “Besides, why should I? My mother will be Queen. She is Queen if Viserys is truly dead. Why should her heir hide away and not be seen?”
Aemond’s lips are set in a thin line. “It’s in your best interest to listen to your husband.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Do you know what my grandfather is currently doing?” Aemond grabs you by the wrist and pulls you close. The pupil of his good eye is blown wide, black swallowing violet until only a void is left. “He’s searching the grounds for Aegon. Why do you think he would do that?”
“Because his father is dead.”
“Aemma, you aren’t a stupid girl. You know why. My grandfather will not allow your mother to sit on the Iron Throne.”
You swallow the bile rising in your throat. You didn’t expect Aemond to lie to you, he would never do that, but you didn’t expect such blunt honesty either. And if Aegon has truly ran off… you take a deep breath to center yourself. Your marriage to Aemond is still so new and now you’re being tested in a way you never could’ve imagined.
“What will you do?” You finally find your voice as you gaze up at Aemond, his features sharper than usual in the early morning light.
“Mother has tasked me with finding Aegon before our grandfather’s men.”
“And then?”
“I have no desire to see Aegon on the throne.”
Despite his words, something remains unsaid. He doesn’t want Aegon on the throne, but he doesn’t want your mother either. He won’t support her claim, therefore denying your claim as well.
Before tears can fall, you yank your wrist out of his grip. “Go then. Support a usurper over your wife.”
“It’s more than that and you know it.”
“No! I don’t know, Aemond! Viserys chose Rhaenyra as his heir. She is his oldest living child. I am my mother’s heir as her eldest child. What’s so complicated about that?”
“People will never accept a woman on the throne. Not only that, but your brothers are bastards and everyone knows. You have to be her heir because you are her only legitimate child. Unfortunately, not even that will save you if the people decide to rise up against your mother in favor of Aegon.”
“They would never! All the houses swore to recognize-“
“Words said by dead lords whose children don’t share their sentiment.” Aemond observes you quietly for a moment. “Don’t make me post guards at your door. I have no desire to make you a prisoner, but you’re forcing my hand. Stay out of this fight.”
Aemond presses his lips to yours, but you refuse to kiss him back, keeping your body rigid when he tries to hold you. You watch him go silently, rage simmering in your blood. When the two of you married, you had promised yourself to try. Try and make it work. Try to be a good wife to Aemond. How can you possibly do any of that now without betraying your family?
There’s only one option left for you: you need to find Aegon before anyone else. If anyone can convince him to not take the Iron Throne it’s you. He would do anything you asked of him.
Luckily, you know him better than anyone else. Even Aemond. They’ll search the brothels, the ale houses, but you know better. Aegon is smart enough not to hide in places he’ll be expected. That only leaves on place.
The Great Sept.
When you go to leave your room, you’re stopped immediately by the King’s Guard. True to his word, Aemond posted them outside of your shared chambers. They glare at you silently until you shut the door and retreat deeper into the room. There’s another way- a secret way your mother taught you should something like this happen. So you set to work, tapping against the wall until you find the door hidden by the fireplace.
You slowly make your way down the dark passage, sticking close to the damp stone wall. It won’t be far to the Great Sept once you make it out of the Keep. The difficult part will be not being spotted. You’ll stick to the shadows, though, and you’ll keep your hood up as far as you can without drawing suspicion.
You can do this.
You have to do this.
For your mother.
Fresh air finally washes over you as you reach the exit of the passage. You’re well outside of the Keep now, no guards to spot you as you sneak down the street. The Sept looms large and imposing in front of you. You’ve never been particularly religious, but you’ll praise any god you can if you’re the one to find Aegon first.
The Sept is still in the early morning as you step inside. Candles haven’t even been lit yet and the silence around you is suffocating.
“Aegon?” You try to make as little noise as possible, unwilling to alert anyone to your presence.
You hear a small cough come from underneath a table and kneel down. Aegon grins up at you, absolutely reeking of wine. You offer him your hand. He takes it willingly.
“Everyone is looking for you,” you tell him.
“And yet you found me first.” His expression grows dark. “I won’t do it. I don’t want the throne. Tell them to give it to Aemond… I’m not suited for it.”
When you don’t argue with him, Aegon lifts a brow in question. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”
“Not exactly. I don’t want Aemond to be King and gods know I’ll only be Queen if my mother is dead.” You take Aegon’s hands in your own and hold them against your chest. “Aegon, we both know they’ll never stop trying to make you King. I need you to stop them. Do whatever it takes. Please.”
Aegon tilts his head, eyes drawn to your lips. “Run away with me. We can go to Braavos and write to your mother. She’ll understand and pardon us after she takes the Throne back.”
“Aegon, You’re married. What will happen to your children if we leave? You can’t protect them from Braavos.”
“No mention of your own marriage. Is there trouble for the newlyweds?” He steps forward and crowds you against the wall. “Say the word and I’ll take you away from all of it.”
“We can’t. We have to stay and you have to fight. I’ll stand by your side as your brother’s wife, but we can’t leave this mess for my mother to clean up alone. We have to help her.”
Something changes in his expression. His face tenses up and his eyes darken as he listens to your words. “And if I don’t? If I decide to take the Throne from Rhaenyra, will you still stand by my side? What if I stay the selfish bastard I’ve always been?”
“What would you gain from doing that?”
“You.”
That one little word sits heavy in your soul. “Aegon…”
He shushes you, kissing you sloppily. His lips are warm and demanding while one of his hands drifts down to hike your thigh up his waist.
“The only fucking thing I’ve ever wanted is you, and you’re the only thing I can’t have. But if I’m King? No one can stop me from taking you for my own.”
“You can’t.”
“I could. Who would stop me?”
“I would.”
Aegon trails his lips against your neck before biting down hard. “Would you? I don’t think so. Aemond wouldn’t stop me either. He doesn’t have the fucking courage. You’ll be mine one way or another. I’m letting you decide how.”
You let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t leave.”
“Then a king I’ll be.”
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fragileheartbeats · 10 hours
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I have been thinking about something for a while now. what if aegon 2 was a bit like tywin lannister?
Ok I'm kind of lost for words because first, this question is interesting but stupid and funny at the same time. Second, idk why you're asking me this, I mean yes he's my favorite character but there are people who obviously understand his character more like @very-straight-blog but since you asked this I try my best to answer you.
First of all Tywin was a proud man, he was proud that he was a lion. So Aegon would be proud of his Targaryen blood too. Instead of his short, greasy hair, he would have long and shine hair because it is a sign of his Valyrian blood (he would take good care of his hair, he may even braid it). He would probably saw himself more as a Targaryen than a Hightower. And instead of green, he would dress in red, black, silver and gold. He will also have a more muscular body because of the practice of swordsmanship and etc. And instead of teary eyes, he would have half lidded eyes and a sharp gaze.
He would saw himself as heir, unlike Aegon in the book that took the throne so he can protect his family and unlike him in the show that was a coward and wanted to escape. He wouldn't care what he's father said. Because when his father dies, his words have no value anymore.
He probably would admired his father, but on the other hand, he would saw his father as weak and annoying. He also would saw Rhaenyra as a foolish and spoiled woman (it was good for him tho, because in his mind, she would destroys herself).
When he was crowned king, he hold his head high, his eyes shine and a proud smile on his face.
he would be characterized by his strategic mind, ruthlessness, and a pragmatic approach to governance. This version of Aegon would be more calculated, less impulsive, and likely more effective in securing alliances and managing the realm. His cruelty, amplified beyond Tywin's, would instill fear among his enemies and even his allies.
From his birth, Aegon would be groomed for leadership, displaying a keen understanding of politics and warfare from a young age. His education under a Tywin-like mindset would emphasize the importance of power, control, and the necessity of making hard decisions for the greater good of the realm, albeit through a more cynical lens.
A more intelligent and cunning Aegon would approach the conflict with Rhaenyra with a sharper strategy. He would likely seek to undermine her support base, using espionage, strategic marriages (he would force his brothers to take a wife, or even promise his own children), and alliances to weaken her position before their forces met in battle. His plans would be meticulous, aiming to avoid unnecessary losses and to capitalize on any mistake made by Rhaenyra's faction. For example he would use any chance to point the obvious fact that her children are bastard.
He would also treat Helaena better, And he would listened carefully to her words and prophecies and would take care of her and try to have as many children with her as possible. He may even marry other women from other powerful houses, not only does this increase his allies, but he can have more heirs, and since each child gets a dragon, he can also have more dragons.
As a king, Aegon's rule would be marked by his strategic governance, focusing on strengthening the realm's central authority. However, his cruelty and ruthlessness could lead to rebellion and unrest. His intelligence would allow him to navigate these challenges with a degree of success, but his brutality might leave the realm in a state of fear and resentment.
Aegon's legacy would be complex. While some might remember him as a strong ruler who maintained the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms, others would recall his reign as a dark period marked by fear and tyranny. His nickname might reflect his dual nature, perhaps something like "Aegon the Iron," symbolizing both his strength and his unyielding cruelty.
Given his strategic mind, Aegon might be able to secure his throne for a longer period than in the original narrative. However, his cruelty could also lead to plots against his life. Assuming he could suppress major rebellions, his reign might last significantly longer, potentially stabilizing his bloodline's claim to the throne if he managed to produce heirs who survived the tumultuous politics of the realm.
In this scenario, Aegon might seek to eliminate Rhaenyra and her supporters as threats to his rule. However, he might also consider imprisoning or exiling them if he believed it would lead to a more stable realm, using them as pawns to discourage further rebellion.
In a world where Aegon mirrored Tywin in intellect and temperament, the Dance of the Dragons might have unfolded with less chaos and more cold, calculated brutality. His reign could be characterized by a strong, if feared, leadership, potentially leading to a more unified but oppressed realm. His victory in the war would be likely, achieved through strategy and fear rather than sheer force. However, the scars of his rule would mark the history of Westeros, leaving a legacy that would be remembered with a mix of respect and dread.
Well that's what I think. But honestly I love the original Aegon more because he's a broken man and I love him for it.
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urbanleftovers · 1 day
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Sugar Kisses (6)
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[Aemond x reader] [Aegon x reader]
[Warnings: angst, fluff]
[Summary: Private and smutty moments]
English is not my native language, so apologies in advanced
Modern real-life setting
Masterlist
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You stayed outside as Aegon and his siblings were with Viserys and went to the chapel. You stayed there for a while and prayed silently, for your father-in-law's health, for the Targaryens, for your baby, and asked the Virgin Mary for help. You felt someone’s gaze but didn’t look.
“I thought Aemond’s atheism had stuck to you,” a female voice said
“Perhaps it is one of the few things that didn’t linger on me” you responded still not watching
“I understand Aegon is easier to love, but this will destroy you both” she replied
This time you looked at Alicent.
“Yes, he is easier to love, but I also loved Aemond and you know, everyone knows, so it’s not like I ended it” you bit back
Alicent nodded, feeling the weight of her accusation 
“What do you see in him that’s worth carrying on?” she asked wistful
“It always struck me how all of you think so little of him… he’s a sunshine, besides his vices his soul is pure, he’s honest, he doesn’t have second intentions, and while he may seem childish that’s how he behaves to remind everyone that life shouldn’t be miserable despite the bad things in it…” you opened to her 
“it makes me hopeful for a happy life” you finally said 
She stayed quiet, processing what you just told her
“Yes, he’s a happy boy and he loves you and the child you’re both expecting… but is that enough for you?” Alicent asked as you looked into her sorrowful eyes 
“Yes, nobody is perfect… as long as he loves me and our child, I will be the happiest person on earth”. You said and left her
Otto was on the doorframe, Alicent looked at him apprehensive and he sat beside her. She cracked sobbing to him. After all, fathers and daughters…
“You knew it was coming,” Otto said 
“Perhaps it was my fault for expecting so much of you, that was my mistake…” he continued
“We all make mistakes Father” she hushed him
“Y/n will make a decent man out of Aegon… she’s a nice girl,” he said
“What about Aemond?” Alicent asked concerned 
“He’ll learn from his mistakes as he should” Otto responded “And you are not to intervene, you cannot clean your children’s mess anymore” he continued stern
They hugged.
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“How is he?” you asked Aegon as he was in the garden
“It was just a scare, but he’s going to get worse…” he responded with bloodshot eyes
You hugged him and he silently sobbed in your chest.
After a few hours, Viserys got better and was sent home. Alicent invited you both to stay and all the siblings given the situation.
Daeron suggested playing a board game so you could share some family time. You played risk and tied with Aemond who looked frustrated. Then you braided Helaena’s hair as you were both gossiping.
“Beers, anyone?” Asked Daeron 
Almost everyone said yes except you because of pregnancy.
“I’ll pass” replied Aegon
Even Aemond quirked his brows but didn’t say anything
“Love, I don’t mind…” you said 
“I’m ok, really…” he replied 
After a couple of hours, you all went to bed. It felt so strange since you used to head to Aemond’s bedroom and going to Aegon’s was new, not like you hadn’t gone to his bedroom before, but the last time you went was over a decade ago.
It was very tidy, but surely that was on Alicent. You noticed he had an intercom home system and curiously you touched some buttons. He had posters of different bands, a couple of guitars, some pedals, a keyboard, and tons of records and CDs. There was one on top of the stereo, It was Daft Punk RAM, you recognized it because you had given him that CD, it was a special edition your father had from his work.
“I’ve listened to it more times than I can count, ask my siblings… they were sick of it,” Aegon said getting rid of his clothes
“I thought you had thrown it, at the time you said it was lame…” you replied holding the CD box and smiling warmly
“You see, I’ve always treasured everything you have given me, especially that,” he said as he turned on the stereo selected a song and pressed play
I didn't want to be the one to forget
I thought of everything I'd never regret
A little time with you is all that I get
That's all we need because it's all we can take
One thing I never see the same when you're 'round
I don't believe in him, his lips on the ground
I wanna take you to that place in the Roche
But no one gives us any time anymore
He asks me once if I'd look in on his dog
You made an offer for it, then you ran off
I got this picture of us kids in my head
And all I hear is the last thing that you said
I listened to your problems, now listen to mine
I didn't want to anymore, oh
And we will never be alone again
'Cause it doesn't happen every day
Kinda counted on you being a friend
Can I give it up or give it away?
Now I thought about what I wanna say
But I never really know where to go
So I chained myself to a friend
He took your hand and you both slowly danced, staring into each other’s soul on the verge of tears, and kissed, it was sweet and intimate, and reminded you of your first kiss.
You remembered when Aegon started to drift from you, even though you always searched for him, he had accused you of preferring his brother since you were a nerd just like him, and you tried to justify yourself by saying that wasn’t true. “Surely you are his whore now” he had said and it scandalized you “-that’s not true!!” you had responded, “prove it” he replied and you pecked at his lips delicately, he was perplexed and he grabbed your waist forcefully and kissed you deep, you let yourself go into Aegon’s kiss as he deepened it with his tongue, it was exquisite and sweet. “Open your eyes while I kiss you, I want to see how much you want this” he had requested and you obliged until the kiss grew more intimate making you pool your tighs and break it to gasp air. Aegon was smiling victorious 
“You don’t know, but after our first kiss I had to change my clothes,” he said while playing with your hair
“Was I your first kiss?” you asked feeling dumb
“Yes, and I wanted you to be my first in many things more” he replied with a sad smile
“You were though, you were my first love for a while…” you responded hiding in the crook of his neck 
“I knew that, I felt how you looked at me even when Aemond was holding you, I still remember that Christmas dinner when you were crying in the maze and I asked you what was wrong and you just hugged me, that held tortured me because I knew it meant so much more… and God… it was unbearable to see you with him after that, I almost hated you for it, because I knew you want me as much as I wanted you…” he said as he cupped your chin forcing you to look at him
“We are together now and we are going to have a baby” you replied with a shy smile
He kissed you and you both went to sleep.
The next morning Aegon’s hard awakened you early, he tickled you into submission and you gave into his whims. You both had sex as quietly as possible, although it was hard while he was eating your pussy.
“Aegon… ahh…yeah deeper… fuuuck” you moaned
“God, you taste like heaven,” he said and kept going
He left you a moaning mess until you climaxed. Then you went on top and started riding him, your soaked cunt received him so well, he was aching to be inside you and his gasps from pleasure echoed throughout his room, his hips started to thrust you harder filling your womb as you closed your eyes concentrating in the sway of both your hips, he sat as you were still riding him and grabbed your breasts suckling on each 
“You’ll have wonderful milkers, my love,” he said while looking and biting your nipples
 Your body seemed to respond to Aegon’s vulgarity wonderfully because you were about to peak
“Open your eyes y/n, I want to see you undone when you cum” he moaned into your ear
There wasn’t much struggle to both your bodies and you both came together, hard. 
You lay in bed for a few minutes until he asked you to get in the shower with him and have breakfast with the rest.
You changed into your jeans and an Aegon t-shirt and went downstairs.
It felt odd wearing clothes as everyone was still wearing pajamas, it was oddly familiar since you never expected them to be like an “average” family on a daily basis, but you reminded yourself you were a part of it now. 
“Slept well y/n? Alicent asked you as she was sipping her cup of tea
“Yes we did, thank you Alicent…” you responded sheepishly 
“Where’s the milk? asked Aegon while opening the fridge
“It’s here, on the table” responded Daeron while looking at you
He and Helaena were barely containing their laughter, chins wobbly, if you were red Alicent was redder, Aemond clasped his cutlery trying to ignore the elephant in the room.
“What’s this all about? Why are you acting weird?” Aegon asked obliviously 
Daeron and Helaena burst out laughing and you chuckled a bit
“What is going on?” He asked again only to increase their laughter 
“As I said brother, the milk is on the table” replied Daeron again looking at you
“Oi, have some respect…” said Aegon, and then he laughed too “-we weren’t that loud…” he continued
“You left the intercom open Aegon” replied Aemond
Aemond rose from his seat and kissed his mother goodbye.
“Oh God…” you muttered mortified 
“And nobody took the job to turn it off? This family is full of creeps” he said while serving you juice 
“We all knew what was going on, that’s why we came down to breakfast only to listen to it via the intercom, and until Aemond came down to turn it off, we had heard most of it, except Mom who went to the patio” explained Helaena
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!
“fuck” you whispered 
“Aemond, poor lad… don’t worry y/n he’ll get over it, especially now that the four storms are scheming to get him” replied Daeron eating his breakfast
You stayed after lunch at Alicent's insistence and made Viserys company, after that, you both headed home.
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Sugar kisses tag list:
@malfoycassimalfoy @daenerysqueenofhearts
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queenhunter102 · 2 days
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Master list
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(This is how I see the boys looking at you Aemond's eyes lazily following you around, not really giving anything away unless you look real close, while Aegon's face just gives him away, like his whole face is following you, smiling like a twat)
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON - Aegon and Aemond.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
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Nsfw - GN!reader | Male!reader | Fem!reader
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valeskafics · 1 day
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aegon girlies... im sorry for what im about to put you through tonight
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stillinracooncity · 7 months
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that feminine urge to read something that makes you cry, get angry, scream, laugh like a hormonal teenager, turn up the heat, feel like the most unique and beautiful human being on earth. *sighs*
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myocsfanfictions · 3 days
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THE WRATH OF FIRE
House of the Dragon Fanfiction
MASTERLIST
Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair were dark, but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen and her wrath was not different from the one that burn inside the members of the House of the Dragon.
《 Previous - Next 》
CHAPTER 3
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Ysilla had loved her time in King's Landing. Her uncle was a sweet man, and he liked Ysilla's company. It had been strange for the little princess because no man had ever treated her like family. She had only her lady mother in Runestone. But King Viserys had been very kind to her, allowing one of the Maesters of the Dragonpit to follow her back to the Vale so that he could attend to her dragon.
"Your grace," she had asked timidly one morning as they were breaking their fast. Queen Alicent was with them as well.
"Tell me, dear niece," Viserys answered with a smile.
"I would like to learn High Valyrian," she noticed how the King shared a look at his Queen. A hint of sorrow was in his eyes, and Ysilla wondered if she had asked too much.
"That would be a lovely idea," the King said, smiling gently at her. Ysilla blushed, happy that her uncle appreciated her wish. "From your mother's words, I know you like to learn."
"It is true, your grace," Ysilla answered, nodding her head. The Queen chuckled softly.
"Let's hope our Aegon will have the same endeavor for knowledge," Vyseris said.
Ysilla had met the little Prince Aegon, who was almost two years old. The girl did not know what to think of him; he could not even talk properly yet.
"Is my father happy to hear it as well?" Ysilla asked curiously. But then again, she noticed how the King shared a look with his wife.
"I... I'm sure he is, dear." Those words should have made her happy, but they didn't because she was not sure how true they were. Was her father not happy with her? Was she disappointing him?
"Did I do something wrong?" She asked, confused.
"Of course not," her uncle was quick to say, "Your father is at war; it's been long since I last saw him."
Ysilla looked down. She was truly so silly. She was only two when the war on the Stepstones started. But she wanted to meet her father and talk to him.
She had been trying to talk about him sometimes, but no one would talk about Daemon Targaryen. She was not sure why, but it seemed to her that the Hand of the King didn't like her father, while the king seemed pained to talk about his brother. But no one explained anything to her; she was too young, they said.
She had hoped to get to know her father better in King's Landing, but he was far even in a place that he had loved. Or so her mother would say.
Ysilla missed Runestone, but she could understand why her father loved King's Landing so much. Her favorite place was the Dragonpit; she even loved the smell of dragons. And it seemed that her own dragon liked to be there, too. At first, she was afraid he would not have recognized her, but he did, happily and clumsily crawling in her direction.
"Is Vhagar in the Dragonpit as well?" She had asked curiously at Rhaenyra one morning under the Heart Tree.
"She is too big," Rhaenyra answered. "Why? Do you want to see her?"
Ysilla smiled, "Visenya was Vhaghar's rider," she explained, "I like stories about Visenya."
"I like them too," her cousin answered, sitting closer to Ysilla, "I would have liked to have a sister like you."
Ysilla felt like blushing, but then she got curious, "You've got Aegon, though," but Rhaenyra's eyes lowered silently.
Did she not love Aegon?
Ysilla wondered why. But she dared not to ask, not wanting her cousin to get sad.
"I hope my dragon will be as big as Vhaghar," Ysilla confessed, "And that I'll become as strong as Visenya." And that her father would be proud of her.
"I'm sure you will," Rhaenyra promised.
Ysilla was enjoying her time in King's Landing. She enjoyed spending time with Rhaenyra and the Queen, but never together. The two of them didn't seem eager to stay in each other's presence, Especially Rhaenyra.
"You truly look beautiful," said Alicent the morning of Aegon's second name. The Queen was wearing a beautiful red gown, and her auburn hair was held together by a net of jewels. Ysilla blushed at the compliment. No one ever complimented her appearance. Her mother didn't want her to focus only on her physics. She was a woman of the Vale, stronger than most. But Ysilla wished to be pretty. She sometimes wished that her hair was silver like the rest of her family and not strange like hers. Dark and streaked with silver. It always looked messy; it didn't matter how many times she'd brushed it.
"I wish I was as pretty as you," she said, biting her lips.
"You are just five of age," the Queen told her gently. "You've got time to think about those things." Then she put her hands on her shoulders and said, "Shall we go?"
That would have been her last week at the Capital, and she was very sad about it. She enjoyed that visit as much as her dragon. He was little, but he was not afraid of other dragons, and he was growing healthier by the day.
The feast for Aegon's name-day was like nothing Ysilla had ever seen. So many people were dressed in rich, embroidered clothes and the finest jewels. All the ladies fussed about Aegon, and they were all happy and made a lot of compliments. They seemed to love him very much, the first son of the King.
"May I introduce you to my niece Ysilla Targaryen, Lady Redwine?" The King said, lightly pushing Ysilla towards an old lady. The woman looked at her. Her eyes lingered on her hair, but then she smiled. It was a tight smile; it didn't fully reach her eyes. "The daughter of Prince Daemon," Ysilla nodded her head proudly at the woman's words. "It is a pleasure to meet you, princess."
Ysilla bowed clumsily, "The pleasure is mine."
"What about Lady Rhea?" Lady Redwine asked the King. "Is she not present?" Ysilla didn't like her tone. She seemed to be judging and mocking. But she had no right to speak in such a way about her noble mother.
"Lady Rhea is a very busy lady," her uncle answered, "But Ysilla is here in her place."
The woman nodded, "To not let people forget." Ysilla frowned, looking up at her uncle, who was glaring at her for some reason.
What should people remember? Ysilla asked herself. She did not understand that woman.
"How about Prince Daemon, your grace?" Lady Redwine asked Viserys, "What words are from the Stepstones?"
Viserys smiled with tension. Ysilla could tell he did not like the question. "A war of little concern for the realm." Ysilla frowned again.
Her father was fighting. His brother. Why was that a little concern?
"Ysilla," Alicent called her, gesturing to get closer to her. The little princess looked at her uncle once more before doing as she was asked. "What about you sit here with Aegon?" she asked, gesturing to the wet nurse to put Aegon on a soft carpet. You could play together."
Ysilla was not sure what she should have done, but she nodded nonetheless. Then, she sat quietly next to the little prince, but her eyes remained on her uncle.
I wish I was older, she thought. I could understand better.
Ysilla started to play with Aegon a little, but her eyes kept looking at the people around. And she noticed it. They would whisper as their eyes lay on her.
Is it for my hair? She asked herself. But even if she hated her hair, she was not quite sure that was the reason behind their gaze and whispers.
Then suddenly, she felt something pulling at her dark lock, not enough to hurt her. When her eyes moved, she noticed Aegon looking at her hair curiously before his lips turned up into a smile. He seemed to like it.
It is not for my hair. She thought, looking back at a man with golden hair and a roaring lion embroidered on his chest, whispering to his twin brother.
Did they know something she didn't? Did something happen to her father at the Stepstones, and no one would tell her?
She wanted to know.
Ysilla managed to get away from Aegon's grip before telling the wet nurse that her tummy was empty and that she would have to go to eat something and then come back. Ysilla walked to the table, observing the food as if she were truly hungry, hoping to catch someone talking about the Stepstones and her father. But she didn't catch anything. Women were talking rumors, and men were looking forward to the hunt that would have closed the Prince's celebration.
Nothing of her interest, then she heard it.
"The King does not want to help," she heard the Hand say to a man with the sigil of House Hightower on his chest. "Daemon and Corlys Velaryon acted without His Grace's word," Ysilla was as quiet as a shadow as she walked closer to hear them better.
"He has always been a disgrace," the other man said, "And the folly about Dragonstone."
Otto Hightower nodded. "His Grace wanted him to go back to Runestone, but he never wanted to."
"We all know how he disrespects Lady Rhea and his daughter." Ysilla felt her hands shaking. What did it mean? She did not understand.
Otto took a breath, "The goat and the goat's daughter. He truly is vile."
Ysilla felt her eyes fill with tears, but she was quick to walk away. Wanting to forget about that conversation. But she couldn't. Her father couldn't have talked about her and her mother in such a way. Why?
That could not be possible. They must have been lying. The Hand didn't like her father; she knew that. But could that really be a rumor? What was his end?
Those words had been repeating themselves in her ear for all the rest of her visit to King's Landing. And they never went away. They've kept coming louder and more painful.
_____________________________________________________________
Taglist: @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9
If you want to be add to the taglist just let me know.
If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!
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aemondsbabe · 5 months
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Little Love
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summary: aegon comes to your chambers crying and needing comfort, but what happens when your husband walks in?
pairing: aemond targaryen x reader x aegon ii targaryen
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, mommy kink!! i cannot stress that enough!! astronomical amounts of titty suckin', nipple/breast play, oral (f receiving), handjob, fingering, piv, angst but happy ending, hand on throat but no choking, subby aegon, breeding kink, creampie, consensual threeway relationship, let me know if i missed any!
word count: 6k oops
a/n: header image is for aesthetics only & is not used to describe the reader! a huge huge thanks to my honorary wife & this fics adoptive mother @toms-cherry-trees 🩵 thank you for all your help with this one!!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“Aww,” you coo softly, eyes filled with adoration as you study the man on your lap, “Are you mommy’s precious little baby? Hm?” You brush a silvery lock of hair off of his face, trailing your thumb over the light flush across his cheeks as your other hand rubs soothingly over one of his biceps. 
Aegon hummed and nodded as best he could around your pert nipple, bright eyes lazily blinking up at you. One of your thumbs gently sweeps away tears from the corners of his eyes while you gently rock him as best you can, gazing at him with a smile. You stay quiet for a while, taking pleasure in the way he clings to you so needily, the way he’s looking at you as if you hung the stars in the sky. 
You can’t help the sigh that leaves your lips at the feel of his warm mouth around your nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing at the sensitive skin as he carefully suckles it in his mouth. “Shh,” you whisper, calming Aegon when you see another wave of tears threatening to spill from his violet eyes, “I promise there is nothing to worry yourself over, my little prince,” you tell him softly, trying to squeeze him somehow closer to you, “Just rumors, nothing more.”
You couldn’t help but feel protective of Aegon, your heart twisting as you remember the state he was in at the beginning of the evening when he had first loudly burst into your chamber. 
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The fire in the hearth warmed your skin as you sat on the sofa in the small sitting area of yours and Aemond’s chambers, easily guiding the needle through the fabric of your embroidery as you hummed a song. With a sigh, you held the hoop up and tilted your head as you examined your work, nearly dropping it when you jumped at the sound of the heavy doors of your chambers crashing open. 
You jumped up, whirling around to see who could’ve possibly been disturbing you in such a manner, already glaring before you’d even turned your head. Your narrowed eyes widened however when you saw Aegon striding toward you, a pained look on his face.
“Is it true?” He had questioned, coming to a stop a little ways away from you, voice shaking even through the angry tone of his voice. 
“Is what true?” Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as you clasped your hands in front of you. 
His frown had faltered for a second, eyes already sparkling with tears as his hands clenched at his sides. “The whispers in court,” he explained, gaze flitting from you to the stone floor, “The rumors about – about you and my brother.” 
Shaking your head, you had carefully walked toward him, “My love, I am sure they are untrue,” your voice had been gentle, “I cannot even imagine what they would be ab—“ 
“That you’re pregnant!” His voice was thick with unshed tears as he spit out the words, “That you must be!” This had left you dumbfounded, unable to do anything but gawk at him, which had only served to upset him further. He had sighed heavily and fixed you with a tearful gaze, bottom lip quivering, “So it’s true?” 
“No!” You rushed out, emphatically shaking your head as you hurried to him. “My love, my sweet baby,” your fingers carded through his hair when you reached him. You had gently pulled his gaze to yours before you had cupped his cheeks, your fingers already damp from the tears streaking them, “That is nothing more than court gossip, I promise you. I swear upon the Mother, you’ve nothing to worry about.” 
The dam had finally broken as he hiccuped out a sob, his shoulders sagging. “D-Do you mean it?” He’d asked meekly, voice so small you had felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 
“Oh,” you had taken his hands in yours and led him to your bed, sitting him down at the edge as his body started shaking with sobs. Sitting next to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, gently cupping the back of his head as he slumped against you and rested a wet cheek against your chest. “My little prince, I swear to you I do,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, rocking the two of you together, “You know Aemond and I would not do that to you.” 
His fingers had clung to your sides as he sobbed, hands bunching in the fabric of your gown. “They’re saying it’s been long enough,” he’d said mournfully, “Th-That it’s been three moons since the w-wedding and y-you must be by now.” 
You’d stroked his hair comfortingly and rested your chin on the top of his head, feeling his hot tears trail down your cleavage, “You know your brother and I would speak with you first, my love. We would not leave you out, you know how this arrangement works.”
The only answer you got was a small sniffle, his shoulders still trembling, although not nearly as badly. You had let him calm down for a moment more, rocking him against you while you hummed his favorite song. 
Eventually, he had calmed down, his shoulders steadying and his breath evening out. You had almost assumed he was asleep before you heard him whimper against your collarbone, pink lips mouthing needily at your skin. Your lips had quirked up in a smile as you had gently pulled him up, his small whine making you chuckle as you looked into his eyes.
“Do you need some time with mommy, my little love?”
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Which is how you found yourself in your current position – reclined on the plush pillows of your bed with Aegon’s head in your lap, his lips eagerly suckling at your breast, not getting any real milk but the action calmed him still. You shiver slightly in the cool breeze that wafts in from the balcony, the air growing colder now that the sun has set. 
Aegon sighs contentedly, his warm breath fanning across your chest as small whimpers and whines slip past his lips. The small noises make you chuckle as you run a hand over his bare chest, “You’re my favorite little prince, do you know that?” You whisper, softly tickling his side enough to make him giggle and squirm. He smiles around your breast and nods happily, his nose digging into the fat of your breast as he presses himself more firmly against you. 
You stiffen a little at the sound of your chamber door opening once again, unable to see the entryway from the decorative screen you and your husband had placed in front of the bed. You make no move to disturb Aegon, though – bless the poor maids but there is not much they haven’t seen already. It is not a maid, however, that rounds the corner and you are instead met with the wide, surprised eye of your husband. 
After a second, the shock melts off of his face and he smirks at the sight of the two of you, his older brother still suckling away at your breast as if nothing were amiss. “My, my,” he tuts, stalking across the room to deposit the stack of books he carries onto the small breakfast table by the balcony before returning his attention to you once more, “I left my wife this morning dripping with my spend and already I return to a babe.”
“Aemond!” You hiss, frowning when you hear Aegon whimper at your chest, “Please, he is already in a state.”
“And in our chambers,” Aemond takes a seat at the table, unlacing his boots before setting them to the side, along with his leather tunic, “Normally you two reserve this… intimacy for his rooms.” His long fingers quickly untie his trousers, leaving them hanging from his slender waist as he moves about your chambers, poking the fire in the hearth back to life and tidying the papers on the writing desk. 
You soothe Aegon when he whimpers again, looking up at you with questioning, unsure eyes as a blush blooms on his cheeks. Even if his brother knows the details of your relationship with him, and even though he had walked in on him in this exact position before, he couldn’t help but feel so shy and vulnerable when he got this way. 
“Shh, my sweet,” you speak softly to the man at your breast, running your fingers through his pale hair, “Just relax, you’re okay.” Your words seem to settle him and his eyes grow droopy and half-lidded once more, a contented groan rumbling through his chest. 
“You should have seen him earlier,” you turn back to Aemond, eyes following him as he walks to your dressing table, “Poor thing came crying about court gossip.” You didn’t miss the small eye roll your husband gave at you calling his brother “poor thing” but you chose to ignore it for the time being; you didn’t love their endless taunts and teasing but they were still brothers, after all. 
“And what was the sweet babe weeping about this time?” Aemond asks, his voice dripping with derision as he takes a cloth from the small wash basin on the dressing table and quickly wipes at his neck and shoulders, droplets of water streaming down his defined frame and running into the lines and dips of the muscles on his chest, arms, and abdomen. 
Aegon growls at your chest, not missing the mockery in his brother’s tone. You try to calm him but it’s no use, he pulls off of your chest and throws Aemond a vicious look; you merely make yourself comfortable against the pillows and sigh tiredly. Gods be good, you thought, staring up at the stone ceiling as if the Seven would appear to offer their guidance; you love the two brothers more than anything else but you could do without their brotherly spats. 
“Well?” Aemond goads, his eye widening as he stares at his brother, a silent challenge.
“He feared I was pregnant,” you interject quickly, attempting to quell the coming squabble before it broke out, “Apparently the ladies of court have nothing better to do than monitor my condition.” You put an arm around Aegon as you speak, as if keeping him close to you would keep the two men from bickering. 
“You are my wife,” Aemond huffs out a sardonic laugh, a smirk playing at his lips as he wrings out the cloth and leaves it to dry on the side of the wash basin, “Why would it be of his concern if –”
Aegon growls against your breast again, letting your nipple fall from his pink lips as he fixes his brother with a glare, one that falters for half a second as you protectively tighten your hold on him. His dark eyes continue to glare at Aemond, following his every move as he comes to stand at the side of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as he studies the two of you. 
“Hush, my love,” you pet at his head and shoulders in an attempt to soothe him once more, glaring at your husband in warning, “This is nothing we need worry ourselves with tonight.” 
Aemond comes to sit next to you on the bed, giving Aegon a quick glare before he leans down and places a tender kiss to the top of your head. “You’re right,” he says into your hair, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face, “We need not trouble ourselves with it tonight.” 
Aegon huffs against your chest once more and gives his brother a final warning glance before looking up at you with a questioning gaze, pouty lips parted in an unspoken question. 
“You need some more time with mommy?” You ask him softly, grinning when he shyly nods, still so skittish of his needs around his brother. You coo and give him a nod, unable to stop the sigh that leaves you at the feel of his mouth on you once more. His tongue delicately licks at your hardened nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, still teasing it as he suckles. 
You admire him for a moment, studying the way his long lashes fan out over his cheeks once his eyes slip closed, his arms wrapped protectively around your middle as he kneels at your side. 
Finally, you turn your head to Aemond, surprised to see his eye trained on his brother, watching as he nurses at your breast. “Husband?” You ask tentatively; your relationship with both brothers was not a secret, at least not between the three of you, but even still, you rarely had them at the same time. 
His eye finally meets yours and he smiles, cuddling you closer, which earns a small whine from Aegon as he’s forced to move a fraction of an inch with you. “You needn’t worry so much,” he keeps his voice soft as he speaks, trailing kisses down your temple and cheek, “I’m merely thinking.” 
“About?”
“Putting a babe in you,” he all but growls into your ear before kissing the delicate skin just below it. “Seeing you grow with my child,” he continues, one hand skimming up your arm before he cups your unoccupied breast, long fingers kneading it gently before they pinch at your nipple, “Watching as these swell with your sweet milk.”
A shiver rolls through you at the thought, and at the salacious groan that vibrates from Aegon’s mouth. Your husband smirks at your reaction, watching proudly as your eyes become cloudy and unfocused. 
“Do you like that?” Aemond asks against the column of your throat as his lips and teeth and tongue work against your skin, sucking marks into the flesh, “Like the thought of my seed filling you up, finally taking root?” 
You hardly register Aegon’s whine, eyes squeezed shut as you feel your husband pressing himself to you, lips pressing against any bit of your skin he can reach, chuckling softly at how easy it is to work his brother up. “Wouldn’t that be something, brother?” Aemond questions sarcastically, his eye glimmering mischievously, “Wouldn’t she be so beautiful with my babe in her?”
The older brother grumbles something against you before redoubling his efforts, making you gasp as he begins suckling at you harshly, nose twitching in annoyance. You calm him as best you can, a shaky hand coming up and carding delicately through his hair – Aemond’s ministrations making it hard to concentrate. 
“You’ll be such a good mother, sweetling,” Aemond says lowly, kissing his way down your stomach as he moves to kneel between your thighs, “So perfect and sweet and caring.” He continues, punctuating each word with a kiss against your abdomen, his long hair tickling the skin of your thighs. 
“Aemond,” you pant softly, back arching as Aegon’s teeth just barely graze against your sensitive nipple, “Please!” You beg, though whether it’s to get him to stop taunting his brother or carry on with you, you cannot say. 
“Shh,” he presses wet kisses against one of your thighs, lips trailing slowly up to where you want him most before he tilts his head and begins kissing up the other thigh as well, his pace torturously slow, “I always give you what you want, do I not?”
A loud, uncontained moan tears itself from your throat as Aemond presses a kiss against your folds, groaning into your heat as he tastes you. “Gods, you’re dripping,” he growls into your cunt, practically making out with your center as his hands come to rest on the tops of your thighs, holding you in place, “Did your babe not care for you at all?”
At this, Aegon pauses, whining against your breast as he lifts his head, thin tendrils of drool connecting his shining lips to your hardened nipple. The feeling of his mouth lifting off of you has you finally opening your eyes, only to be met with his wide, uncertain eyes.
“Mommy?” His voice is so small, so terribly worried at the thought that he may have disappointed you somehow. 
“Oh, sweet prince,” you whisper, voice catching in your throat as you gasp at the feel of Aemond sucking your aching pearl into his mouth, worrying the sensitive skin between his lips. Your brows furrow with concentration as your eyes meet Aegon’s, your hands gently cupping his cheeks, “Don’t worry yourself,” you have to pause again as a curse slips past your lips, “You’re my perfect little baby, you could never disappoint me.” 
You finally manage to pant out your reassurances, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at the feel of Aemond’s hot tongue licking into your center, his nose pressed firmly against your bud as he fucks you on the long muscle, groaning into your slick folds as he savors your sweet taste. You stare desperately into Aegon’s dark eyes, back arching as your husband feasts on your cunt with practiced ease, the slick, squelching sounds of him licking into you and suckling at your pearl making you mewl and blush. 
“You’re so beautiful, mommy,” Aegon murmurs softly, violet eyes staring at you with rapture, as if he’s trying to absorb the pleasure radiating from you, “So pretty.” He breathes finally and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips, whimpering when he feels your tongue press into his mouth. 
The men hold you like that for a moment, letting you lie back on the bed as they attend to you – Aemond murmuring dirty praises into your cunt as he licks at you wildly, flicking shapes and patterns against your pearl that have your head spinning; Aegon swallowing your wanton moans in his own mouth as he moves his lips against yours. 
You whine against the older brother’s mouth when you feel your husband’s fingers gently prodding your center, gathering wetness on them before carefully pushing two into your heat. “Seven, you’re tight,” his breath is warm against your glossy folds, “Always so tight, feels so good, sweetling.” He purrs before quickly wrapping his lips around your bud once more, gently sucking at the tender flesh but combined with the pressure of his fingers, it’s enough to send you into a tailspin. 
You pull away from Aegon with a gasp, back arching off the bed as you whine Aemond’s name, blushing as you hear the loud wet sounds emanating from where his fingers fuck into your cunt. Faintly, you hear Aegon whimpering next to you, his soft cries almost in time with yours as he presses soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. 
“Mommy, my mommy,” he whispers in reverence, leaning across your chest to get to the breast he’s neglected thus far, kissing softly across your supple skin and teasing your nipple with the tip of his tongue before finally suckling it into his mouth, closing his eyes with a soft groan as he nurses, getting lost in the feel of you beneath him, your skin on his. 
Aegon’s lips around your nipple has you breaking, every muscle in your body seeming to tense up as your high overtakes you. A strange mixture of their names leaves your lips in a rough moan as you squeeze your eyes shut, fire exploding through you. 
“That’s it,” Aemond groans, crooking up his fingers within you as he feels your walls pulsing around them, pressing them into that rough patch he has memorized in your heat, the one he knows prolongs your peak, “Gods, that felt like a big one, sweetling.” 
Somehow, you find it within yourself to nod tiredly, chest heaving as you catch your breath, slinging an arm over Aegon’s back as he sighs happily against your chest. 
“Made you feel good, mommy,” he chuckles proudly around your breast, nipping and licking at your nipple as he tilts his head to meet your gaze, earning an annoyed huff from Aemond as he presses calming kisses against your thighs and hips. 
He’s so proud of himself that you can’t help yourself from smiling and giggling, your fingers carding through his hair. “Oh, yes you did,” you coo, “You made me feel so good, my precious boy.” 
Below you, Aemond bites at your thigh as a warning, making you jump. “Keep it up and you’ll only give him a bigger ego,” he rolls his eyes and presses wet kisses in a trail up your stomach, stopping only when he reaches Aegon, still lying across you. The bed dips as Aemond crawls back up to lie next to you, kissing his way up your neck and jaw before finally slotting his lips against your own.
A whimper escapes your lips as he does, one of your hands reaching up to run your fingers through his long hair, the pale strands threading between your digits like silk. He sighs into the kiss, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your neck, not choking but merely staking a claim. The action makes you mewl and he uses it to his advantage, quickly sliding his tongue across your bottom lip before entwining it with your own as he licks into your mouth. You can feel your face heat up as you taste yourself on his lips, squirming in his hold as Aegon continues licking and suckling at your hardened nipple, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine and quickly reigniting the flames in your belly. 
Aemond smirks as your moans change in pitch, the familiar high-pitched, whiny cadence causing him to let out a low, vibrating growl himself. 
“Please, Aemond,” you whisper against his lips, whimpering as he trails his kisses down your jaw and neck.
Your husband groans softly against your shoulder, a shudder rolling through him at the breathy way you say his name, his favorite sound. “You need not beg me, sweetling,” he sighs, gently gripping your hips and nodding for you to roll onto your side, “I’ve got you.”
Aegon whines as Aemond moves you, struggling to keep his soft lips latched around your peaked nipple, which earns him another eye roll from your husband. Quickly, you settle onto your side, both arms immediately wrapping around Aegon to hold him close. His pale hair tickles your lips as you press a sweet kiss to the crown of his head, softly giggling as he desperately suckles your nipple back into his mouth; your sweet boy could be at your breast for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough for him. 
The bed dips on either side of you as the two men bracket you between them, Aemond behind you and Aegon in front. Your husband presses kisses against the back of your shoulder as he slots himself against you, the warmth of his chest pressing against your back sends a shiver down your spine and makes your already stiff nipples harden to the point of aching. 
“Iksā sīr gevie, ñuha ābrazȳrys,” Aemond whispers against your shoulder as he trails a hand over your curves, humming appreciatively as he palms the swell of your arse, “Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie.” (You are so beautiful, my wife, I love you so much.)
You whimper at his words, your heart twisting happily in your chest as you recall their meaning from the lessons he had given you during your courtship. “Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha valzȳrys,” you manage to moan brokenly, “So much, Aemond!” You breathe, foggy brain unable to keep up with translations any longer. (I love you too, my husband.)
A gasp leaves you as Aemond presses himself against you tightly as you realize that he had managed to tug off his trousers at some point, his length slotting beautifully between your thighs as he ruts against you. 
“Gods!” Your slick folds part greedily as your husband rubs against your center, coating his cock in your juices, the tip rubbing deliciously against your pearl, “Oh, Aemond!”
“Shhh,” he breathes against your ear as one of his warm hands latches onto your thigh and pulls it up, giving him more room to guide his cock into your heat, “I’ve got you, sweetling, I have you.”
You nod, near delirious, practically sobbing as he finally guides himself into you, filling you perfectly. Your head lolls back, further into his embrace as he slowly presses into you, stretching you as he finally bottoms out, stones pressed firmly to your backside as a low, gravelly groan vibrates against your back. 
“You feel so good,” you moan breathily, your fingers scrambling through Aegon’s hair as you press his mouth against you, earning a whimper from the prince as he takes your breast further into his mouth, suckling at it greedily, spit leaking from the corners of his lips. 
“Feels perfect,” Aemond huffs, grunting as he begins moving his hips against yours, eye squeezing shut at the feel of your slick walls sucking him in as you quiver around his length, “You feel perfect, tight little cunt.” He mutters, more to himself than to you, hissing the words between clenched teeth.
You let yourself get lost for a moment, a light sheen of sweat blanketing your skin from the heat of the two men around you. You make no attempt to stop soft, satisfied moans from slipping out of your lips, breathing your pleasure against Aegon’s forehead as Aemond rocks into you, thrusting his hips in a well-practiced pattern as he fills you again and again. Your husband’s grip tightens on your thigh, making your eyes roll back deliciously as Aegon flicks his tongue against your nipple before greedily sucking it back into his mouth. 
A few moments later, you’re brought out of your reverie by a slick feeling at the front of your thigh, small whimpers and whines from the man at your breast finally managing to trickle their way into your consciousness. 
You finally open your eyes, letting out a soft moan as you take in the sight before you – Aegon suckling desperately at your sensitive breast, his dark eyes looking up at you pleadingly, already shimmering with unshed tears, as he ruts his hard length against your thigh, already leaking glossy trails onto your skin with every movement.
“Ohh,” you coo softly, pressing a kiss to his sweat-damp forehead as you wrap your hand around his length, feeling it immediately twitch in your grasp, “You need mommy to take care of you?” You ask breathily.
“P-Please,” Aegon whimpers brokenly, flicking his tongue over your nipple as he nods his head, “Hurts!” He whines, voice thick as tears leak from the corners of his eyes. 
You press another comforting kiss to his forehead, gasping in time with Aemond’s hard thrusts as you begin slowly teasing the prince’s hard length, cooing again as you feel him pulsing in your grasp. “What a good boy,” you whine, swirling your thumb against his leaking tip, “Getting so hard from hearing mommy get fucked, hm?”
You feel him shudder against you, a low groan sounding against your breast as his hips fuck up into your hold. He whines as you let go of his cock for a second, quickly running your fingers around where Aemond spears into you. Your husband grunts behind you at the sensation as you quickly gather some of your juices on your fingers, moaning brokenly as you flick them around your pearl for a second before returning your attention to Aegon. 
Your face heats as you suddenly get a dirty idea and you take a second to spread some of your juices across your unoccupied breast, chuckling breathily as Aegon immediately abandons the one he’s currently suckling on, a loud moan snaking past his lips when you wrap your slick fingers around his cock once again, easing his thrusts into your fists. 
“Greedy babe,” Aemond grunts from over your shoulder, watching as Aegon frantically licks around your breast, humming excitedly at your sweet taste before latching onto your nipple once more, “Suckling at any part of my sweet wife he can reach.”
A fire lights in your belly at Aemond’s words as you’re surprised he’s addressing Aegon at all, his teasing lilt only adding to the heat within you. The prince whines within your grasp, his face flushing to a deeper shade of pink than it already is and his violet eyes shoot daggers in his brother’s general direction, not caring that he can’t see them. 
Suddenly, Aemond lets go of your thigh, leaving you to sling it over one of Aegon’s pale hips as he continues thrusting his cock into you, deep and slow. His hand instead settles on one breast and he lovingly palms at it, humming with satisfaction at its weighty feel in his hand. 
A loud whine leaves you as his fingers pinch around your overly-sensitive bud, tweaking and tugging at the swollen skin. Your back arches, loud whimpers tumbling past your lips as his touch borders on pain. Aegon growls at your sounds of discomfort, letting your nipple fall from his lips as he sits up just enough to throw him a malicious glare over your shoulder.
“Ngh!” Your little prince grunts, smacking Aemond’s hand away from you before wrapping an arm around your waist protectively and pressing soft kisses to your abused breast, “Mommy?” He questions softly, teary eyes searching yours, desperately wanting to make sure you’re alright. 
“Shh, shh,” you soothe sweetly, carding your fingers through his hair as he lays his head on your pillow once more, “Mommy’s okay, my sweet, thank you.” Your words are breathy, feeling halfway forced out of you as Aemond’s thrusts speed up, your mind growing fuzzy as the head of his cock moves against the sensitive spot within you perfectly, making you clench around him. Aegon continues thrusting into your grasp, his hands frantically grabbing onto any parts of you he can reach. 
“Pathetic,” Aemond huffs at his brother, biting into the sensitive skin of your neck, “So whiny, fuck, so whiny under your muña’s touch you can’t even speak.” (Mother’s)
Aegon whines again, a high, pitiful sound against your beast as he latches onto you once more, low groans ripping through him as the leaking head of his cock rubs against your soft thigh. 
“Hush,” you admonish, one arm hugging possessively around the prince, “Mommy’s taking good care of her sweet little boy, isn’t she?” 
“Y-Yes,” Aegon breathes brokenly around a soft moan, his cock twitching desperately in your hand, “Yes, yes, yes!” He chants around your breast, soft little words in time with each stroke of your hand. 
You can see him start to lose himself — watching as his eyes grow ever more glossy, tears welling up in the corners while throaty sobs and sighs warm your breast, his length seeming to get somehow thicker in your grasp as the head of his cock positively weeps against you. 
“What a good boy,” you sigh encouragingly, smiling proudly, glowing with the knowledge that you can reduce him to such a state, “Are you close, my sweet?” 
He nods desperately, soft grunts accompanying the thrusts of his hips up into your grasp. You keep your pace steady, your own head swimming as your release builds within you. 
After another few seconds, Aegon begins shaking helplessly in your grasp, his chest heaving as sobs are wrenched from his throat. “That’s it,” you murmur softly, feeling your cunt clench around Aemond’s length at the sight of the prince coming undone before you, making the other man groan loudly behind you, “Come on, I know you’re so close, show mommy how good she makes you feel, my love.” 
As always, your soft approval is what unravels him. You moan loudly, watching him fall apart in your arms, relishing the soft moans and sighs of your name as they fall from his pouty lips, the way his hips stutter in your hold. You gasp softly at the feel of his cock twitching between the two of you, his spend coating his belly and chest in pearlescent streaks.
Before he’s even had the chance to recover, your sweet boy finds it within himself to bring one hand down, greedily seeking out your bud. He sighs happily when you cry out his name, his fingers circling your aching pearl perfectly, just in the way you’d taught him, his chest still heaving with his own release. 
“Oh, Gods!” You gasp, your own hips rutting back and forth between the two men, “So c-close, fuck!” You whine, the fire in your belly threatening to consume you. 
“That’s a good girl,” Aemond grunts, hips thrusting into you at a maddening pace, “Do you want me to breed a baby into your wet little cunt, sweetling?”
You and Aegon whine at the same instant, yours in pleasure and his in annoyance. Your walls clench desperately at your husband's thick length, making him chuckle breathlessly behind you. 
“Find your pleasure, sweet girl,” he groans, his thrusts somehow perfectly timed to the swirls of Aegon’s fingers against your bud, “Peak and I’ll put a little babe in your belly, my love.” 
Aemond’s promise, Aegon’s soft whine, and the feel of their touches mingling on your slick heat finally pushes you over the edge once more. Your cunt pulses around Aemond as you slip over the edge, your pearl buzzing and twitching under Aegon’s fingers as flames of pleasure lick up your spine, sparks exploding behind your eyelids as you cry out against Aegon’s neck. 
Your release claws Aemond’s out of him as well, the feeling of his seed emptying into you spurring your peak on further. You whimper, mouthing at the pale skin of your prince’s throat as you feel warmth bloom within you, your husband’s harsh strokes finally slowing to a stop. 
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The three of you lay silent for a while, the only sounds in your chambers being soft pants and sighs. Finally, Aemond carefully pulls his length from you, soothing you gently when you whine. 
“Seven,” he groans softly, watching his seed slip slowly from your spent center, “Perhaps this time we should let it take.” He muses as he gets up from the bed, retrieving a fresh cloth from your dressing table and quickly cleaning your center and thighs.
“But,” Aegon whimpers softly, drawing your attention back to him as he looks at you with wide, worried eyes, “What…what about me?” The meekness in his voice makes your heart ache as you hurriedly hush him, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes with your thumbs. 
“You don’t worry about a thing, my little love,” you reassure him, pulling him into your arms and rocking him slowly against you, “No matter what the future holds, you will always be my precious little prince. I swear it.” You promise, pressing soft kisses to each of his cheeks, one of your hands tickling at his side until he squirms and giggles against you, burying his head in your neck with a tired sigh.
Aemond huffs again, setting his eyepatch on the table by your bed before he assumes his spot next to you once more, slinging an arm over your waist as he makes himself comfortable. 
On your other side, Aegon shuffles down the bed once more, making you giggle softly as he presses feather light kisses to your breast, sighing happily at the mere feel of your supple skin against his lips as he cozies himself against you. 
“Maybe we should hold off on the moon tea this time,” Aemond ponders, mumbling against your shoulder as his fingers trace soothing patterns into the soft skin of your hip, “Surely an actual babe could be no more difficult than the one we already seem to have.” 
Aegon whines, Aemond chuckles, and you tiredly groan.
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A brother's duty. // Husband!Aegon ii Targaryen x Wife!Reader x Aemond Targaryen
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Summary: Aegon seemed to have noticed how much his younger brother, Aemond, fancies you, as a self proclaimed caring older brother, he decides to fulfill that role by giving Aemond what he wants, which is you.
WARNINGS: afab!fem!reader, dubious consent, threesome, m/m/f, dacryphilia, rough sex, manhandling, slight humiliation, degrading, double penetration, mentions of infidelity (aegon visiting brothels), slight misogyny, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), pussy drunk aemond, lactation kink, cum eating, anal sex, lmk if I missed any! + not proofread.
WC: 4.7k
A/N: the anal sex in this isn't "realistic" aka no prior preparation so please don't come at me and go ''that isn't how anal sex works 😡😡😡 you have to do blah blah blah'' ik but this is just a work of fiction so pls just enjoy it // divider credits: @cafekitsune
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“Aemond, do you perhaps fancy my wife?” Aegon tilts his head to the side, questioning his brother as they sit together in the library, quietly reading, of course, until the short pale haired man decided to break the silence.
“Brother, this is no place for such discussions.” Aemond tries dodging the question, but Aegon simply rolls his eyes grunting loudly in displeasure, “Just answer the question.” Aegon says annoyed and Aemond pursues his lip, lost deep in thought.
“What if I say ‘yes’?” Aemond asks, “Then I'd have your head for that.” Aegon smiles which makes Aemond shift uncomfortably in his seat, “Come on! I was kidding, do you really think I'd kill my own blood-related brother over a woman?” Aegon laughs loudly and Aemond sighs but he furrows his brows, “She is your wife.” Aemond states sternly, but Aegon shrugs, “And you are my brother.” He replies.
Aemond lets out another heavy sigh, hoping that he'd escape this situation he'd somehow gotten into, “So?” Aegon pushes further, poking at Aemond to answer the question and Aemond hums in irritance before being fed up and answering Aegon's question. “Yes, I do fancy your wife.” He admits, slightly ashamed.
Aemond was a man of the faith, believing in the faith of the seven, and according to the scripture, desiring a woman is a carnal sin, diabolical if she's a married woman, abysmal if she's your own brother's wife.
But Aemond couldn't help it, it's as if though the gods were testing him, not only were you pleasant on the eye but you were also very polite and had the same interests as him, and most probably the only woman — besides his sister — who was not disgusted after seeing his injury.
He knew he had to stop developing an interest towards you once he found out that you were being married to Aegon, but for some inexplicable reason; that only made him want you more, perhaps it was the label of you being ‘forbidden’ that enticed him further, making him yearn to get the taste of the forbidden fruit more than ever.
How he had wished that it was him instead, the one getting married to you, he wished it was he who fucked you, he wished it was him who got you pregnant, he wished it was his babe you waddled all around the red keep with, he wished it was his child that you had given birth to.
But those were nothing more than just wishes, wishes that would never come true, unless a miracle happens.
“That wasn't hard now was it?” Aegon's voice snaps Aemond out of his train of thoughts and Aemond simply hums, “Why did you ask such a question?” Aemond inquires curiously and Aegon smirks at him, “I may not be sober most of the time but the way you stare at her doesn't go unnoticed, your desire burns deep for her doesn't it? I've especially taken note of it when she was pregnant with my child, your eye never left her womb.” He answers and Aemond rolls his eye.
The atmosphere is filled with silence once again as Aemond continues to silently read his book.
“I would've let you fuck her if you had asked me to.” that statement which left Aegon's mouth made Aemond choke on his spit as he stared at him wide eyed, shocked at what he had just said, “Pardon?” Aemond gazes at Aegon confusedly, and Aegon gets a thrill out of this, watching his brother be flustered.
“I said what I said, you could've just told me so, you're my brother Aemond, how do you think I will ever turn any of your requests down?” Aegon says it so casually, as if he was giving an item that belonged to him which Aemond had always wanted so badly, except you weren't an item or an object.
Aemond remains silent, unable to talk because of how baffled he was, but Aegon pressed on, “Don't you wanna feel her cunt around your cock?” This makes Aemond slam his book down and get up, and Aegon raises his hands in surrender, “It was merely an offer, I wouldn't mind sharing her with you, we've shared whores before.” Aegon tries justifying his reasoning and Aemond scoffs, “But she is no whore, she is your wife, you should treat her with respect.” he replies agitated.
“Enough with the sterness, reply plainly, do you want to fuck her or no? I won't ever bring it up ever again if you say no, we'll pretend we never had this conversation.” Aegon sighs before raising his eyebrow.
Aemond swallows thickly, should he take this chance? He always yearned for you so badly, it's like the opportunity presented itself; he could seize it, but he was in a dilemma, not wanting you to face such disrespect, your self respect will be obliterated to pieces, you'd be drowning in self shame.
You were a very dignified lady, a woman who carried herself confidently no matter what, this is why you weren't even affected when Aegon still visited the brothels. As long as the word didn't get out, you were fine with it. You simply did your duty as a wife and a mother. He couldn't imagine you allowing him to fuck you and ruin your honour.
“Decide fast brother, I have to leave soon, it's been a while since I laid with my wife, the maesters had told me to give her a break for a minimum of six weeks, yet eight weeks have passed, my cock craves her cunt so desperately.” Aegon speaks explicitly, and Aemond's breath hitches in his throat, imagining what your cunt would be like. “Then why do you visit the brothels if you seem to like her so much?” He questions, trying to change topics, “That's cause she can't satiate my depravities, otherwise I wouldn't even be visiting those wenches anymore.” Aegon talks as though it was a minor inconvenience.
“Either way, decide quickly.” Aegon urges and Aemond swallows.
He opens his mouths to reject it, but for some odd reasons his mind forms a explicit thought of burying his cock inside your cunt which causes his cock to stir slightly, the blood flowing to it at the mere thought of fucking you.
‘No Aemond, she is your sister in law, your brother's wife, you cannot let this desire succumb you.’
‘But didn't you want this for a long time? Imagine how her cunt would weep when you'd shove your cock into it hm? Her breasts bouncing up and down while you thrust into her.’
He swallows thickly, those internal arguments happening in the span of seconds before he has had enough and made up his mind.
“Yes, I want to fuck her.”
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The babe in your arms cooed as you rocked him gently — caressing his chubby cheeks with your thumb as he slowly fell asleep due to your movements, “He's cute isn't he?” You ask the servant that was in charge of him and she nodded, smiling at you.
“Yes princess, the more he grows, the more he resembles his father, Prince Aegon.” She gives her commentary and you give her a small smile and slightly nod your head. The babe finally closes its eyes, going into slumber and you chuckle at his cuteness, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, just then, the door the nursery opens which reveals ser criston cole.
You were confused as to why the kingsguard was here himself, “Prince Aegon has sent me in search for you, he is calling you to his chambers.” Those words were enough to clarify the situation. He wanted to lay with you, “I'll be there in a minute.” you reply and he nods, you give the babe to the servant before smoothening your dress, and leaving the nursery.
You reach your martial chambers quickly, you turn around to thank Cole and dismiss him, you then open the door to the chambers and shut them just as quickly, taking a deep breath before turning around and venturing deeper into the room.
You spot Aegon sitting in his chair, but what was odd was that he was accompanied by Aemond, who you've meet occasionally and had nothing but a positive opinion on about, you were confused on what he was doing here.
Maybe Aegon did not want to lay with you? Maybe Aegon was trying to get closer to his brother for having a bond of a family? You knew how strongly bonded these brothers are, especially since after whatever happened at driftmark, so it wouldn't be weird to assume that Aegon is trying to get you and Aemond to become good friends.
“Ah, wife.” Aegon gets up from his chair, coming over to hug you, and you return it awkwardly, knowing that Aemond is in the same room, Aegon chuckles at your awkwardness. He quickly gets behind you, pushing you forward until you're right in front of Aemond who stares at you from below, all the while Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck.
You're confused not knowing what's happening, “Brother, undo her front laces.” Aegon commands and you furrow your brows immediately, baffled at how Aegon was behaving, perhaps he had drunk too much? You felt bad for Aemond, probably stuck in this unwanted situation, you try to give him an escape route but you are surprised when his warm knuckles graze against your collarbones as his fingers hook underneath your laces, beginning to pull them apart.
You were perplexed by his actions, not knowing what to do, you grip his arm from further undoing the laces but Aegon forcefully pulls your hands back, holding both of them behind you as Aemond pulls off the corset.
You were wearing a dress with no sleeves, but that did not mean you went completely shoulderless, your shift and chemise beneath you acted as the sleeve’s replacement, so when Aemond undoes the laces that were holding your long gown up, it immediately plummets to the floor, leaving you in your chemise.
Aegon nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck from behind, taking in your scent while placing small kisses on your shoulder, still not letting go of your hands, “Darling, I hope you don't mind Aemond joining us today, he had admitted to me that he fancies you, and as his older brother, it is in my responsibility that i take care of my brothers needs.” Aegon coos into your ear and you bite your lip, you are about to respond but you are interrupted by your own gasp when you feel Aemond caress your breasts, squeezing the flesh and playing with them.
“I'm afraid— I don't understand?.” You reply confusedly, staring at Aemond play with the mounds of your breasts, and Aegon chuckles into your ear pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I'm simply allowing him to wet his dick inside your cunt.” Aegon puts it plainly, making you bite your lip in shame; all the while Aemond's hand slowly travels up your thigh, underneath your chemise, before it disappears inside; reaching your core.
You squeal when you feel him pinch your clit before he stroked small circles onto it.
“W-why?” You question, trying to free your hands from Aegon's grip but he doesn't budge, but instead watches with amusement as his brother's hand brings out such reactions from you, you whimper as Aemond's finger travels down your slit and to your opening.
“It's my duty as his older brother.” Aegon replies nonchalantly, Aegon loosens his grip momentarily, changing his grip so he can hold both of your hands in one of his. His free hand lifts your chemise up, as he peeks from over your shoulder to see what his brother's hand was doing to your cunt, he chuckles mockingly when he sees your juices dripping from in between your legs.
“Look at her leaking yeah? Her cunt is literally weeping.” Aegon comments and you clench your eyes shut because of the humiliation you are feeling, your husband is parading you out like a whore for his younger brother, and Aemond— whom you've thought of so highly— is letting this happen while participating in the act.
You gasp when you feel one of Aemond's finger enter you, your walls tightly clamping around his finger which makes him grunt, “Fuck you're squeezing my fingers.” He breathlessly says. Aemond suckles on your neck, biting your sensitive spot which makes you whimper. Aegon finally lets go of your hands and then holds you by your waist before rubbing his cock against your ass.
Aemond's finger trail over the spongy spot inside of you, that makes you let out a moan and he takes note of this and presses against that area that causes you to tremble in pleasure, your hands fly up to his shoulders to balance yourself, though you knew you wouldn't fall, Aegon was holding from behind after all.
You were trapped between these two men, both of them peppering kisses on the opposite sides of your neck making you feel dizzy so you rest your head on Aegon’s shoulder, revealing more of your neck for the men to claim.
Aemond adds another finger inside you, stretching you out whilst providing you pleasure, his fingers skillfully grazing your spongy spot, constantly hitting it with precision.
You didn't even feel your peak approaching; it was ripped out of you so suddenly, you let out a loud moan of Aemond's name, clenching onto his shoulders extremely tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks at the intensity of your peak. Aegon's warm tongue glides over your face, collecting your tears on his tongue and licking at them.
You feel Aemond pull his fingers out of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as he puts them in his mouth, licking your essence up before he hums in delight, before pressing a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself.
You are surprised when you are pulled away from him by Aegon, he lifts you up hurriedly and carries you over to the bed before harshly throwing you on it, he is quick to undress, taking off his breeches and undergarments, getting completely naked and harshly grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.
His hands rip apart your chemise in a hurry, before he forcefully spreads apart your legs and positions himself in between, he gives you no warning before roughly shoving himself inside you, that make you slightly shriek in pain but eventually the pain fades, he moves in and out of you fast paced, ramming into your hole with such an intensity that it has you seeing stars.
“Are you jealous?” Aemond taunts Aegon and Aegon rolls his eyes, “No, I just couldn't hold back anymore, I've missed her cunt so much.” He replies to the taunt and Aemond chuckles, undoing his own breeches, freeing his cock from its confines. “Can I use her mouth?” He asks Aegon and Aegon grunts, “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.” he thrusts brutally into you.
You feel the space next to your head sink and you look over slightly only to be face to face with Aemond's cock, it forms a shadow over your face under the candle lights, you gasp when you see it physically throb. You've never seen that before.
He uses that slight opening as a chance, hooking his thumb in your mouth and spreading your mouth open before pushing his cock inside your mouth, you are taken aback by this and try to pull away but Aemond holds your head in place before shoving himself inside your mouth further, his tip caresses the back of your throat, which makes you gag on his cock, but that only further provides additional pleasure as he groans.
“Seven hells—” Aemond grumbles, his hand hold your hand as he thrusts into your mouth, thumb caressing the outline of his cock that forms in your throat when he pushes as the way, your eyes well up with tears and soon you're panting for air that makes you involuntarily suck on his cock, Aegon's thrusts from downwards make your body jolt upwards, taking more of Aemond's cock.
Aemond suddenly pulls out which makes you suck a sharp breath automatically, “Easy there sweetheart.” Aemond coos and you pant heavily staring at him with doe eyes, “I'll shove it once again alright? Breathe— through your nose— fuckkk.” Aemond instructs as he shoves his dick inside your mouth again, but this time you're prepared so you follow his instructions.
You hollow your cheeks which makes him grunt in satisfaction, “Good girl.” Aemond compliments you, which causes your cunt to clench around Aegon's cock, to which he responds by a chuckle, “Guess she liked that brother, she's squeezing the fuck out of me.” Aegon talks to his brother and Aemond hums in response, Aegon's thrusts speed up, that constantly hit your sweet spot, he bends forwards and takes one of your breast in your mouth, suckling on the nipple and soon– beads of white droplets begin to come out, directly into his mouth that makes him suck more harshly, enjoying the taste of your sweet milk.
“She's lactating? Fuck I wanna have a taste.” Aemond moans, noticing how the milk started to drip from the sides of Aegon's mouth.
Aegon's tip constantly caresses your spongy part, which causes something to tighten in your stomach before it eventually snaps, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and choke on Aemond's dick.
The sensation of your throat tightening around his cock makes Aemond finish as well, he shoots his load down your throat which you have no option but to swallow, and soon— Aegon is finishing inside, painting your inner walls white.
He pulls out immediately after, falling forward onto you and positioning you in such a way that he is able to suckle more, Aemond joins him soon after; shuffling and turning down to take your free breast into his mouth.
You couldn't help but whine as the two brothers suckled on each of your breasts, your recent high made you even more susceptible to sensitivity, yet you couldn't help but caress their heads gently, Aemond clamped his teeth down on to your nipple hardly which made you wince; but he later soothed the area with the wetness of his tongue. Aegon on the other hand was more careful to not graze his teeth against your sensitive buds, only using his tongue and swirling it around your swollen bud.
Aemond let's go with a wet pop, cleaning up the milk and sat up straight before tugging you, this displeased Aegon who wasn't done yet, but he had to let go, Aegon watches as Aemond settles in between your legs before he crawls down, by then Aegon had already caught on to what he was doing, and assisted him by holding you against his chest, your back pressed against him tightly, meanwhile you on the other hand; had no idea what Aemond was about to do.
“Aemond what are you— huh? Ahhh!—” You ended up squealing in surprise when you felt him place his wet tongue on your clit— you tried to shut your legs from the embarrassment but Aegon held them open— so you could only watch helplessly as Aemond gave kitten licks to your clit, which undoubtedly made you feel pleasure.
He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit before fully engulfing it in his mouth, sucking on the flesh as if he's starving, Aegon's cock is already beginning to harden again as he witnessed such a depraved act.
Aemond groaned when he felt Aegon's seed in his mouth — which he sucked out of you — but he didn't let it stop from devouring you, his tongue licked through your folds before he sucked on your clit and let go of it with a pop before repeating the motion all over again, you unknowingly pushed his face further into your cunt, which made him moan knowing how desperate you were for him, the moan caused additional vibrations which sent pleasure through your body in waves.
You rested your head on Aegon's shoulder as you watched Aemond continue his ministrations, Aegon turned your head slightly before he connected his lips with yours and you moaned into the kiss.
The familiar feeling of the tightness began to form in your stomach again and you break the kiss with Aegon and start to hump Aemond's face involuntarily; trying to just desperately reach your high.
“You're such a fucking whore do you know that? You look so desperate humping your face against his face.” Aegon coos meanly into your ear and you whine, staring at him with teary eyes and he smirks meanly, pulling your hair harshly, “Whore.” He degrades you and your bottom lips tremble as you are about to start crying, but you aren't able to when your peak hits you at the same moment, making you moan in pleasure instead.
Aegon mockingly smiles at you, “Here I thought that you were a prim and proper lady, hell— you don't even let me do these things to you, but maybe my judgement was wrong, maybe you're a whore from the silk street disguised as a lady.” He accuses you meanly, you shake your head no at his accusation while trying to calm down from your high.
Aemond doesn't say anything to that, but simply sits up, and shifts positions once again, pulling you off Aegon and onto his lap instead, you cry onto his shoulders and he simply coos at you, he caresses your hair to calm you down, “Goodness brother, you've made her cry.” Aemond sneers at Aegon who just shrugs his shoulders. “I've only stated what I've observed.” He replies and you whimper.
“All of that aside— do you think she can take us both? In one hole.” Aegon speaks before Aemond could come up with a response and you furrow your brows, and Aemond is lost deep in thought, “We'll have to test it out.” Aemond responds and you push back, immediately staring at him wide eyes but Aemond just pecks your lips.
He lays down, taking you along with him, one hand holding you against him while the other is grabbing your hips and sinking you down on his boner, you bite your lip at the delicious stretch, you're in a position where Aegon can clearly see your pussy stretching around Aemond's cock. Aegon straddles Aemond's knees and lines his cock against your entrance and you turn your head back to see what he was doing, his cock bumped with Aemond's before he found a slight opening to shove his cock into the same hole. “Ah—!” You let out a squeal from pain as you feel his tip intruding and stretching you far than you're capable of taking.
Aegon grows frustrated, not being able to enter his cock fully inside you as your walls clamp down, resisting furthermore intrudence, however that only makes Aemond's pleasure elevate as your walls squeeze him tightly.
“Fuck this, I'm taking her from the rear.” Aegon gives up pushing his cock inside you, you gasp when you feel his thumb poking and pushing inside your puckered hole on your behind. You cover your face with your hands ashamed but Aemond pulls them away before crunching upwards to kiss you on the lips.
Aegon collects your wetness that's dripping from your cunt and smears it on your slightly stretched out hole before doing the same with his cock and lining the tip with the entrance and slowly pushing it inside.
“Ahh— Aegon— wait– I don't think— hgh!” You squeal once his fully settles inside you, and you couldn't help but tremble from the burn of the stretch as he slowly started to move, tears streamed down your face when you felt Aemond move too.
You were feeling highly humiliated, how your dignity has now been sullied, though this encounter wouldn't get out; you knew you wouldn't be able to see Aemond in the same light again, you'd always think about this day whenever you'd encounter him, a dirty little secret you'll have to keep hidden from the realm.
You are pulled from your thoughts with a sharp thrust from both of them penetrating you, you couldn't stop it but moans slipped from your mouth like prayers, you gasped and choked while calling out their names, the position; the act; the pleasure and humiliation you were feeling all combined made you feel hot, and to your horror, the pain began to subside leading you to enjoy this act.
You clinged onto Aemond as the brothers both rammed into you at such a fast pace that made you see stars, you clenched your eyes shut at the new sensations they were making you feel, and soon you're moving in rhythm along with them.
“Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum.” Aegon grunts, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy, “Me too.” You tell him and Aemond takes that as a cue to thrust faster into you, his hips ramming against you, the sound of flesh slapping rapidly fills the room.
Once again, you're blinded by the pleasure that was ripped from you, you came with a loud moan just as simultaneously as Aegon did, he pulled out and came on your back, he couldn't help but watch in awe as his seed dripped down onto your ass cheeks.
Aemond's pace became slow and messy, indicating that he was near too, “I'm gonna cum inside you, get you pregnant alright? This time you'll carry my child, not Aegon's. I'll make sure of it.” He grunts out mindlessly, pressing you down tightly to his chest, and Aegon just snickers. “Only time will tell, Brother.” Aegon replies snarky.
And with that, Aemond finishes inside you, shooting his seed far up into your walls, and you just nod silently, processing his words, his grip loosens after he finishes you fall off him and onto the bed, and soon Aegon collapses tiredly as well.
You hoped silently, that this would be the last of it, and that you'll not have to do this again, though it was enjoyable— it was humiliating, you were not that kind of lady that indulges in such depravity, maybe you'll be able to forget this and move on as if it never happened.
You prayed to the gods desperately.
But the gods are cruel.
Such encounters became frequent, Aegon and Aemond were enjoying it too much to stop, and soon you eventually got used to the routine, yet you couldn't help but feel guilty when you'd go to the sept with Alicent, when she prays that Aemond can find a good match, when she talks about the proposals that came for Aemond to you, unbeknownst to the fact that her son was constantly fucking you and was way too obsessed with you to let go of you and marry another woman.
He'd began fuck you without Aegon being involved and when you told Aegon about it, he simply shrugged furthermore simply allowing him to do so, telling you that it was his duty as a brother to let Aemond have the things he wants, the very same excuse he used during the first time.
“So, what do you think about Floris Baratheon? Do you think she's a good match for you?” Alicents voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you stare at her, who is addressing Aemond, who seemed to be as disinterested as ever.
“She's decent.” He replies shortly before he turns his gaze to you, and you immediately avoid it, staring at Alicent instead who sighs in annoyance, soon; the feeling of stickiness between your legs—which you've tried to ignore— becomes more imminent the longer he stares at you.
And guilt overwhelms you, you didn't know why you were even joining this meeting with Alicent, you –infact– hated it, knowing that moments prior to this, you were fucking Aemond in the secret hallways of the keep.
And that his seed was currently dripping out of you.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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nyrasbloodyclover · 9 months
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"i'm team black" "i'm team green"
well i am neither because i choose my teams with my pussy and not my moral compass
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