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gtgbabie0 · 2 days

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-Aegon Targaryen x Barmaid!Reader

{Aegon, once again, seeks refuge within the safety of your bedroom…}

Enjoy lovelies 💕

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Your bedroom was comforting. The low light from the candles cast warm shadows against the walls, and the warmth of the fireplace spread through the tiny, rundown room. It was an escape from the brothel in which you live above, an escape from the noise and drunken guards who were a little too rowdy tonight for your liking.

Seems the Prince also felt the same because when you walked into your room he was there, lying face down against the cushioned divan snoring ever so softly without a care in the world.

His white and choppy hair splayed messily over the pillow, his lips stained red from whatever cheap wine he had indulged himself in tonight.

It doesn’t surprise you nearly enough as it should, to see him here, a Prince, within the calmness of your own room sleeping and drunk no less.

You try to stay as quiet as possible, moving around the room on steady feet whilst you clean up the mess he had caused by stumbling into your room haphazardly.

But your attempts are useless when the sound of his hoarse voice breaks through the air, “Good… you’re back.” He pushes himself to sit up with a groan, his eyes heavy with a deep sorrow that he’s clearly trying to drink away.

The audacity, the way he thinks he can just barge in here. It frustrates you and rightfully so. “What have I told you about this… look at the mess you’ve made.” You huff with narrowed eyes as you pick up the books he had knocked over.

Aegon stands up with a struggle, his face scrunching up in what you presume is pain. “Where were you?” He completely ignores your complaints with a heavy sigh. His words are all slurred as he leans forward as if trying to spot you out on a lie.

He doesn’t even give you time to respond before he’s talking again through the thick haziness that the wine has caused. “They said you were here… and you weren't, I waited hours for you.” He says, his tone was clearly accusing you of something.

“Not all of us have the privilege to lay around and drink all day Aegon.” You tell him with an anger in your voice that he wasn’t used to, not from you at least.

You watch as his glossy eyes narrow with a turmoil of emotions that he can’t escape from. He’s quick to try and push past you with a dramatic huff. However, he doesn’t make it further than the end of your bed before he’s stumbling slightly with unbalanced footing.

“Seven hells, Aegon… what have you drank?” You mutter as you catch him just barely, an arm wrapping around his torso to help him stand up.

Despite him being completely inebriated he still tenses up at the feeling of your arm around him, keeping him steady. It’s a certain softness that he doesn’t deserve.

“The usual shit… now answer my question, where were you?” He mutters, turning his face towards yours. The smell of wine hits you much stronger now that he’s this close, his breath fanning against your cheek.

With a soft sigh, you cave. Knowing you won’t talk any sense into him whilst he’s like this. You’ve learned from the hard way that he’ll just end up circling back to the same question over and over again.

“I was in the market, I needed to stock up on a few things.” You tell him as he leans further into you for support, his arms circling your waist to try and keep himself upright.

He takes a breath as if he was going to argue with you, but no words follow. Instead, he presses his face into the crook of your neck with a heavy sigh, his fingers fisting the soft fabric of your shirt as he pulls you closer.

Your expression softens and you roll your eyes, your hand soothing his back. This happens a lot more than you care to admit and you can’t help but wonder, at times like this, what went wrong with him?

“You can’t leave… don’t leave me.” The words leave his lips pathetically, so heavy with emotion. His hands tighten, holding your shirt as if he were scared that you might just disappear into thin air.

“I’m not leaving, I won’t.” You tell him, a promise that he won’t believe, because you can guarantee that you’ll have the same conversation with him a couple of days from now.

But your words seem to do the trick for the time being as you feel him smile against your shoulder, pressing his face further into you. “Good, I won’t let you leave anyway.” He says with a certain seriousness in his tone, and in all honesty you wouldn’t put it past him to hunt you down if it came to that. He’s a prince after all, whatever he wants he gets.

You guide him to sit down on your bed, his hands falling to your hips as he collides with the bed with a groan, looking up at you with glazed-over eyes. A warm but strained smile adorns your lips as you rest your hands on either side of his face, his cheeks are warm beneath your palms.

His eyes flutter ever so slightly at the feeling. No one had ever touched him so sweetly, as if he was a piece of art that needed to be revered.

“Lay day… let me get something to eat.” You whisper softly as you guide him to lay against your pillows, his fingers wrapping around your wrist tightly so you don’t slip away from him.

It takes a lot of convincing and patience for you to finally leave your bedroom with the promise of bringing him a small meal. However, by the time you walk back up into the safety of the room he’s passed out on your bed.

His face smushed against your pillow as he curls himself up into a ball, his lips slightly parted. You sigh, placing the metal tray on your bedside table before sitting down next to him. You debate for a moment whether or not you should wake him, deciding it’ll be best to let him sleep off the wine.

With gentle fingers you brush his white hair away, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He could do with a good bath, you think to yourself. You sit there for a while, watching him as he nuzzles into the warmth of your pillow. He will be gone before the sun fully rises, leaving a small bag of coins on your dresser... in thanks?... or maybe as an apology? but for now, you'll enjoy this, the peaceful silence, whilst it lasts.

The candlelight flickers slightly with the breeze that pushes through your room, casting a warm light against his face. In many ways, this room is as much of an escape for him as it is for you.

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officialaemondtargaryen · 10 hours

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Invisible String

❝and isn't it just so pretty to think that all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.❞

Summary: You are having a pretty strange week and you just happen to run into the same guy every single day at the same coffee shop. He could be stalking you, or it could be fate. You aren’t totally sure.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.2k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. Anyways, here's some fluff. I hope that you are absolutely disgusted by it.

Warnings: language and cuteness.

Monday morning.

The bane of your existence.

It didn’t help that you were hungover; head pounding, pleading with you to go back to sleep after your best friend convinced you to go out for karaoke on a Sunday night. Who in their right mind decided that karaoke on a Sunday night would be a good idea? You did. Not your best decision, you had to admit, and one you immediately came to regret as your alarm continuously reminded you that you needed to get up. You only had about eight minutes before you were to leave your apartment in order to make it to work on time, and it typically took you an hour to get ready– thirty minutes on a good day. You were absolutely pressing your luck with eight.

You rushed into the kitchen, making a beeline towards your Keurig. Brewing yourself a cup of coffee was typically the first thing you did every morning, like clockwork; placing the disposable cardboard cup underneath the spout and setting it to automatic, allowing it to brew while you moved on to other things in your morning routine. It was always the perfect temperature by the time you came back to it.

“Shit!” You cursed with a mouth full of toothpaste after realizing you’d completely missed the sink and a long line of frothy spit had dripped down to the front of your shirt. It was the only clean blouse that you had, and you definitely didn’t have time to go rummaging through your closet to find something else. With limited options available, you tell yourself that no one will notice and hurriedly swipe at the glob of mint green paste from your left boob.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, the stain jumped out at you as if it were a flashing sign, look at me! You knew you’d be self conscious about it throughout the day and that everyone would, in fact, notice, and opted for a black blazer to hopefully cover up your mistake. Once you were satisfied with your appearance– as satisfied as you had the time to be– you rushed out the door; your bag falling off of your shoulder as you tried to scrape your hair back into the neatest bun you could manage without brushing your hair, practically sprinting towards the bus stop, hoping that you’d make it on time.

It wasn’t until you got there, waiting with what seemed like the entire population of this accursed city, that you realized you had never even gone back to the kitchen for your coffee after you had started getting ready. It was still sitting there cold, and lonely, and untouched– just like you felt right now, standing at the bus stop, no coffee to warm your hands.

You could just go to work, clock in on time, and drink that bagged shit your company supplies for the break room, but on a Monday and with the morning you’ve already had, that just wasn’t an option. You could see the bus headed your way but ultimately stepped out of the crowd and headed in the direction of the nearest coffeeshop, which thankfully was only two blocks up.

As soon as you walked through the door and into the warmth of the cafe, you inwardly cringed at the sight of the six people waiting in line. There was really no point in complaining about it, you were already here and you had already missed the bus, and you were already going to be late. You had no option but to wait patiently in line behind some blonde guy in a suit.

Your cellphone vibrated in your hand as you vaguely heard the man order a blueberry muffin and a latte. It was your boss, fuck. You silenced the phone call and decided to send them a quick text message instead, promising that you’d be there soon and made up some story about how the bus was late due to traffic.

Still looking down at your phone, you thought you saw the man take a step to the side out of your peripheral vision, and you stepped forward towards the register. Only he hadn’t stepped to the side, and you stepped right into him, and your face collided with his back. When you went to take a step backwards, you tripped over the woman behind you and ended up falling on your ass.

“I am so sorry!” You exclaimed, looking up at the man that you had just stepped into. Your cheeks warm at the sight of him, feeling infinitely more embarrassed when you see how attractive he is. “I thought I saw you move to the next register.”

He smiled and suddenly everything was okay, like you didn’t just trip and fall in front of like fifty people.

“S’okay, love,” he replied, holding out his hand to help you up. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you replied, trying your hardest to play it cool. “That was totally planned.”

He laughs, once again flashing an angelic smile, “you’re a great actress, then.”

“Thanks,” you say as you dust off your pants. “I rehearsed that for weeks.”

He seemed to think you were being wildly clever as his head dropped back and a genuine bout of laughter escaped his throat. The people behind you in line were becoming clearly irritated, one even stepping around you to keep the line moving. Typically, you would have protested but you suddenly didn’t care about the time or that you had been cut in line.

“Aegon?” The barista called out.

“That’s me,” his smile faltered just enough for you to notice. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“In a city with a population of 8.4 million people, I highly doubt that,” you step back in line after checking with the person behind you to make sure it was okay. “Have a good day.”

The man named Aegon still smiled, his head nodding to you before stepping out into the crowded city streets. If you were brave, you would have asked for his number, but instead you watched the door while you waited for your drink to be made; hoping that he would come back and sweep you off your feet.

You allowed yourself to live in that fantasy for a little while, until you became too busy at work and eventually forgot about the handsome stranger you had met in the coffee shop.

Tuesday was worse.

It wasn’t because you had a hangover or because you had woken up late again. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You were feeling pretty great on this particular morning. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day, and you had given yourself plenty of time for your usual morning routine; shower, makeup, clothes, coffee. The Spotify algorithm was providing you with a perfect soundtrack for your commute to the bus stop until–

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

You screeched as a double-breasted, suit-wearing businessman bumped into you and your coffee went flying towards the concrete; all over the ground, all over you. And for a moment, time stops as you could do nothing but stand there, completely shocked. The audacity he had to not only keep walking as if he hadn’t just ruined your perfect morning– and your shoes– but to yell back at you that you were the one who needed to watch where you were going.

You hadn’t even gotten to take a sip of that coffee yet.

Thankfully, Starbucks was only two blocks up, and you could make a pitstop for a refill and to clean yourself up and the coffee out of your shoes. Before you stepped in line, you made a beeline for the cream bar, hurriedly pulling napkins from the dispenser to shove them into the toes of your shoes. A few people in the lobby had begun to stare, and you sighed in defeat. This was frustrating that you were, once again, embarrassing yourself and making a scene in the same Starbucks two days in a row.

“You know, in a city with a population of 8.4 million people,” you heard as you tried to dry off your tights. Looking up, you noticed the same man from yesterday. What was his name? Aegon, right? “Call me crazy, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we bumped into each other again.”

“Maybe you’re stalking me,” you retorted with a sarcastic smile.

“Stalking the girl who’s spilled coffee all over herself?” He asked, eyes crinkling at the sides from the wide smile on his face. “I don’t know about that.”

You didn’t say anything, still a little irritated that you were even in this predicament, and now running into this handsome stranger again. Typically, you’d be elated to see him again, but not today.

“Let me buy you a coffee?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence that had grown between the two of you after he just stood there watching you try to blot the stain out of your white blouse. “It looks like you’re not having the best day.”

“Thanks for the offer, but not today,” you replied.

“Well, maybe tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” you said as you laughed through your nose, knowing that there was no possible way that you would see him again tomorrow unless he really was stalking you. “Tomorrow, for sure.”

He gave you another one of those remarkable smiles and nodded his head, “okay, I’ll see you then.”

Wednesday was better.

You woke up with a smile on your face and you gingerly started your routine, making your way towards your Keurig. It was the middle of the week; only three more days to go and you’d be free for the weekend. You already had plans for a Succession marathon and itched to make a home on your couch for the next two days with all of your favorite snacks and blankets.

But when you went to grab one of those tiny, plastic pods from the box, it was empty. You had told yourself yesterday that you needed to stop and grab coffee and milk, but had completely forgotten once your day had unraveled after that douchebag shouldered you on the sidewalk.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You always believed that one should enjoy the little things, but this week, it seemed as if those little things were on a mission to ruin your week. This time, you decided on the locally owned coffee shop that was only a block from your apartment. You passed by every day on your way to the bus stop, but they were typically so busy that you just didn’t have time to wait.

Today, they were surprisingly not nearly as busy as they usually were, in fact, they were almost completely empty. You still smiled at the barista as you walked right up to the counter without having to wait in line.

“Could I please have a mocha latte, please?” You asked politely.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the barista replied with a frown. “We were supposed to get our delivery sometime last night but there was a mix-up with the trucks, and we’re kinda out of everything. There’s a sign on the door.”

Of course you didn’t see the sign until you were leaving, frustrated, and stepping out onto the sidewalk with only one option; Starbucks.

This time you were prepared to see the good-looking stranger again, if fate were to have it; you were not covered in coffee, you did not have to rush on your way out the door, you were having a good hair day. Yet, as you stepped into the cool air conditioning of the corporate chain, you were saddened that you didn’t spot that golden halo of soft, blonde hair anywhere. You should have known not to get your hopes up, as the odds of seeing him three days in a row were slim and none. As you stepped up to the register you laughed at yourself, at how disappointed you were, as if you actually had a chance.

You stood off to the side, scrolling through your phone while waiting for the barista to call your name. It was then that out of the corner of your eye, you see that in walks a handsome, blonde stranger. Your heart skips a beat for only a second before it registers that he’s not your blonde stranger. He locks eyes with you for only a second and you offer him a small, disappointed smile.

“Your mocha,” the barista says and holds out the warm beverage to you.

“Thanks,” you reply, your voice despondent.

When you turn for the exit, your eyes are drawn to the corner of the room- to a comfortable, brown leather chair next to the window. There, sits Aegon, the man who had somehow just happened to be here, every single day, at the same time as you. The man who is probably stalking you, and if he wasn’t, he probably thought you were stalking him. You couldn’t even blame it on timing– Monday you were late, Tuesday you were early, today you were right on time. Given outside factors, things like this typically do not happen.

He’s reading the paper and there’s a cup of coffee and a half-eaten scone sitting on a plate in front of him. Your lips curl into a smile as you say to him, “we’ve got to stop running into each other like this.”

Aegon looks up at you, surprise washing over his face before an enthusiastic smile begins growing on his lips. However, as soon as his eyes notice the drink in your hand, his smile immediately disappears, “I thought I was buying today?”

“I didn’t see you until I had already ordered,” you replied. “How about tomorrow?”

“Deal,” he nodded..

“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” You asked, eyes narrowing.

He threw his head back in laughter, “I’m definitely not a stalker.”

“That’s what a stalker would say,” you glanced down at your watch and realized that you should get going before you miss the bus. “See you tomorrow!”

On Thursday, you were convinced.

You had spent most of the day yesterday discussing with your coworker about what had been happening to you over the last week. You’d walked through every different day and what had happened prior to you arriving at Starbucks. You had talked conspiracy theories and the invisible string theory, and eventually you both ended up coming to the same conclusion– you both agreed that it was best for you to not go to Starbucks today.

You didn’t believe in fate, or soulmates, or twin flames, but as you stood in front of your Keurig as it made the most god awful sound, you were starting to change your mind. You tried turning it off and back on, unplugging it and plugging it back in, but the diagnosis was that it had finally died.

After six wonderful years and all of college.

Any other day you’d stop at Starbucks and grab a coffee in place of your homemade cup, but you swore that you wouldn’t today, and you were not waiting in line at the one on the way to the bus stop. It didn’t help that you were actually looking forward to the nasty breakroom coffee, only to get to work and realize that the office had run out of coffee. The effects of the caffeine withdrawal had set in by lunchtime and your migraine was splitting. Needless to say, you were irritable and exhausted by the time you had clocked out. Everything seemed to be grinding your nerves; even something as simple as the person sitting next to you on the bus talking on their phone.

Despite promising yourself that you wouldn’t go to Starbucks today, you found yourself standing at the counter, ordering a latte and a sandwich. It was later in the evening, the sun was setting, and you were certain that you would not be running into Aegon at this time of night and so after you grabbed your coffee, you sat in one of the comfy, leather chairs and started replying to some emails.

You had been there for about an hour, most of the patrons had left. The baristas had begun cleaning up for the evening and the shop was getting ready to close when the door swung open, letting in a gusty breeze.

“No way,” you whispered to yourself as you watched a very tired-looking Aegon walk up to the counter and order a latte. He was so out of it that he didn’t even notice you until he sat down in the chair directly across from yours, and looked up to see you staring right at him.

“I told you,” he said as he let out a tired laugh.

You just shook your head at him in disbelief.

“I was called into work early today and I couldn’t come in this morning,” he said with a smirk. “I was certain I wouldn’t be seeing you today.”

“My Keurig broke, and when I got to work they didn’t have any coffee, so I figured I’d stop in and grab a cup before heading home,” you replied.

You sat there and talked to him until the manager kicked the two of you out, and he ended up walking you to your apartment, even though it was in the opposite direction of where he was going. He was sweet and funny, and you found yourself laughing at almost every joke.

“So tomorrow?” You asked when you stopped in front of your building.

“How about dinner instead of coffee?” He asked, rather boldly, taking you by surprise. “I know we don’t really know each other but I’d like to change that.”

“I’d like that, too,” you smiled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Wanna chance it and see if we show up at the same restaurant at the same time?”

“The ultimate test of fate, eh?” He asked, rubbing his chin as he mulled over your offer for a moment. “Can’t risk it, how about you just meet me at Ray’s at seven.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” you exhale a soft laugh.

“Perfect,” he says and takes your hand, offering a tender kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll see you then, love.”

Friday was perfect.

Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened. Though, thinking back on it now, maybe those seemingly bizarre incidents this past week weren’t actually out of the ordinary at all. Maybe the forgotten coffee on Monday, the spilled latte on Tuesday, the late delivery on Wednesday, and caffeine withdrawal on Thursday were all meant to happen; everything playing out perfectly in order for you to be walking up to Ray’s at exactly 6:54 PM.

Aegon stood outside, a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame. As your eyes met, a wave of warmth washed over you, dispelling any lingering doubts you may have had. This felt right.

This felt like fate.

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valeskafics · 28 days

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"Bewitched" - Aegon Targaryen II x Witch!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

a/n: a request from @dreamfyre03 combined with one from @the-shadow-queen02 🤭🩷

Summary: Bewitching the men of House Targaryen and bringing them under your thrall proves quite easy.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, manipulation, mommy kink, dom!reader, breeding kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, face sitting, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, ass eating, anal sex, jealousy

Word Count: 1,625 words

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 🩷

When Aemond returned from Harrenhal, his mother could not hide her shock at who he had brought back with him. He said he found you on the side of the road, thrown from your horse, bleeding from your temple with little memory of how you came to be there. He, of course, did the chivalrous thing and took you into his care. But Alicent can tell that it is far more than that when she sees how he looks at you. With care, affection, but something much darker as well. Possessiveness. Intense desire, hunger even. You were quite beautiful, disarmingly so, and it is no wonder her sweet boy was so taken in by you. Buxom with crimson red lips, eyes that seemed much wiser than the age you claimed to be, lined with kohl and framed by long lashes that you knew how to bat oh so prettily at the prince. Your gaze pulled people in. There was a mysteriousness to you, a danger she could not quite name.

And she hated that Aegon seemed to be just as entranced by you the moment he saw you, descending from his throne to take your hand and press a kiss to the back of it, giving you his most charming smile. The dowager queen saw the way Aemond’s nostrils flared, the way his jaw clenched. You were going to be a problem. And you knew the way you had both the king and the prince wrapped around your little finger. Your smile was one that looked as if you were hiding some deep, dark secret. One that could ruin everything Viserys wanted her to do. A peaceful reign for Aegon, his legacy maintained.

But when she suggests that he send you away, back to the Riverlands where you belong, Aemond raises his voice at her, shocking her entirely. He glares at her, gnashing his teeth as he declares that you are to remain by his side. That you are his guest, his lover, and anyone that has a problem with that will be put to the sword. What sort of spell have you put on her son, she wonders? Are you some kind of enchantress? Some witch who has seduced him with false promises, with the affection he’s so desperately craved all his life? She does not know. But what Alicent does know is this - people are frightened of her third-born for good reason. She has never been on the receiving end of Aemond’s anger before. He’s always revered her, as one reveres the Mother herself. But it would appear that you have replaced her as the most important woman in his life. She watches as you rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him and calming him with a few honeyed words and a bat of your lashes, his eye fluttering shut as you caress him. A low moan escapes from his lips, one that she truly wishes she did not have to hear.

And it’s no wonder what the spell you’ve put him under is. The way he stares unabashedly at your breasts as they strain against the bodice of your dress, the way he licks his lips when you give him that coy little smile. You have seduced him into your grasp and she wonders if you will ever be willing to let him go.

Aemond watches as you move to get up from his bed, the moonlight shining through the window and reflecting upon your bare body as you walk. He stares without shame, admiring your full breasts, the curve to your hips, your soft thighs as you move to grab yourself a robe. He can already feel his cock twitching, imagining burying himself inside you once again, filling you with his seed, tasting your sweet, wet cunny-

His train of thought is cut off when you hand him a goblet of wine, having already poured one for yourself. You smile at him playfully, moving to sit in his lap, running your fingers through his hair. He lets out a soft sigh of contentment, leaning into your touch, feeling your nails scratching at his scalp. You do not judge him for it, the way he clings to you like a babe, his lips finding your breasts, suckling greedily, his tongue laving attention onto your pert nipple. You just continue running your hand through his hair, soothing him. Aemond’s other hand moves to squeeze at your neglected breast, only to have you wrap his knuckles, fixing him with a sharp glare.

“Do not be greedy, my prince,” you say in that silvery voice, scolding him affectionately, the sound making him grow all the harder, “Now, I must go see your brother.”

Aemond shakes his head, arms wrapping around your waist, “No. You have to stay here with me. You are mine. You belong to me. I will not let Aegon take you away from me. He has gotten everything he has wanted all his life. I will not let him have you.”

You run your fingers along the length of his scar, smirking slightly when his breath hitches at your soft touch, “My sweet, sweet Aemond. Surely you remember my vision. To make it a reality, I have told you what it is that I must do.”

“It does not mean I have to like it. Or even approve of it,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your soft skin, “You are mine.”

“Of course I am yours,” you coo affectionately, “When you sit the Iron Throne, I will be at your side. You will wield Blackfyre, the Conqueror’s crown upon your handsome brow.”

“And you will be my queen,” Aemond insists eagerly, letting out a groan as you sink down onto his cock, the subtle bounce of your breasts as you move your hips mesmerized him, “Oh Gods, you take me so well…”

Your fingers trace his throat all, squeezing gently, a grin spreading across your lips when he lets out a lewd moan of your name, “Yes, my king. I will be your queen. And you will breed me every night. Perhaps this is the night your seed will take and your heir will begin to grow inside of me.”

The thought of you, your breasts heavy with milk, your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you… It is all almost too much for him to bear. He feels you tense around him, his seed spilling inside you at the feeling as you milk his cock for everything he has. You always take him so perfectly, as if you were made for him and only him.

He hates watching you brush your air, applying some scented oil to your neck before taking your pitcher of wine and leaving the chambers you currently share with him. Aemond knows this is all for the greater plan, the vision you saw in the fire on the way to King’s Landing. Him on the throne, his babe in your belly. Aemond tries to stay in his chambers. He tries to play the part of the responsible, dutiful man. To let you do what the two of you planned. You will whisper in Aegon’s ear, bewitch him with promises of a life far away in YiTi. You will get him to abdicate his claim to the throne, allowing Aemond to take his rightful place. And to do all of this, Aemond knows seducing him, bedding him is necessary. But he cannot bear it.

So he storms into Aegon’s bedchamber. He sees you there, sitting atop Aegon, much as you did atop him mere hours earlier. Aegon’s hands hold your hips, his eyes blown wide with lust as you ride him. Aemond is transfixed by the sight. You look so beautiful, so powerful as you give his brother pleasure, as you take your own from him. You grab Aegon’s hands, pinning them above his head as you roll your hips faster and faster. Aegon moves to take one of your breasts in his mouth, whining pathetically when you smirk and move back just out of reach.

Aemond glowers at the two of you for a moment before storming up to you, gripping your hips from behind. You glance at him over your shoulder, a wicked smile curling on your lips as you pull him into a hot, wet kiss. Aegon watches the two of you, his lips parted as he continues bucking his hips up against you before finally spilling himself in your cunt with a pathetic whine of your name. You smirk at the two men before speaking in a cool, measured tone.

“There’s enough of me to share, darlings.”

The two stare at you in awe as you move to straddle Aegon’s face, turning to Aemond and glancing downward. Immediately, he knows what you expect him to do. Before you, he never would have thought of himself as being interested in this sort of depravity. But while you ride his elder brother’s face, his own tongue teasing your puckered hole before preparing you to take his cock, he realizes that he has very much grown addicted to you.

The night continues this way, the three of you losing yourself in your shared pleasure, each brother sound asleep on either side of you. You slip from the bed in the dead of night, putting your robe on once more and preparing to meet a figure, hidden under the shroud of darkness. He waits for you in King’s Landing, near Mysaria’s brothel, a smirk on his face.

“How is the plan progressing, little witch?”

Your lover pulls you into his arms, groaning against your lips as you palm at his cock, “The plan goes well, Daemon. Very well.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #my writing #aegon targaryen ii #aegon #aemond #aegon oneshot #aemond oneshot

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 month

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Losing Dogs

Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.

Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/misarrange, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.

As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.

He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.

You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.

Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing the room.

The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.

He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.

The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.

He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.

He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!

"I managed a cup."

Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.

He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."

Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.

Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"

You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."

His eye twitches.

I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.

Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.

He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?

You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.

He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.

"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"

Again, his eye twitches.

And then he realizes what you mean.

Ah. So, this is what you wanted?

He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.

He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.

When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.

You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."

He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."

With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"

You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."

He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.

You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.

Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.

"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"

His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.

"-and I will grant you all your wishes."

Aegon ticks.

The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.

You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.

Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.

In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.

You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.

You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.

You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.

Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."

His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.

Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.

In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.

And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.

He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.

You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.

He fucking goes to sleep.

You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.

The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.

It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.

Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.

So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."

You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"

Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?

You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."

He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"

You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."

He doesn't trust your smile.

"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."

"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"

You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."

Aegon pulls his hand away.

Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.

Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.

He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.

He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.

He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.

You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.

But then he found your flaw.

Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.

It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?

"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.

Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.

"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"

Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."

She strikes his cheek.

Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.

"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."

Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.

He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.

He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.

This was all Aegon's doing.

His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.

Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.

"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.

Aegon looks back.

You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."

Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.

"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"

You don't respond.

Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.

"We could jump together."

"What?"

Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."

Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.

He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?

"I am," you mutter.

Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.

"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."

Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"

You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."

Aegon does not respond.

"I can sing though."

His brow raises, "how can you sing?"

"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."

He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.

"Would you like me to sing for you?"

"No."

"..."

"Would you like me to hold you?"

"..."

You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.

You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.

Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.

Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.

Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.

Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.

When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?

And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.

He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.

He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.

He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.

Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.

Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him then pulls you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.

He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.

He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.

He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.

"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.

You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."

He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."

Your expression drops, "what?"

He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.

He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"

"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.

"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.

He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.

"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."

Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."

You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."

He kisses you back.

He is blindsided by how his wishes come to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.

He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"

"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.

Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.

He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his kids at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.

He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.

"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."

Your face falls.

Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.

"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.

He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."

You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."

When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.

Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.

He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.

He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.

Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.

"Husband," you curtsey.

Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.

You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."

Aegon looks at you.

"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."

His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.

"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."

His eyes widen.

"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."

Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.

He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."

Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.

His eyes are glassy. You pull away before you can kiss him back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."

His heart thumps as you walk away.

Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.

He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.

"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.

Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.

"Aegon-"

"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"

You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.

He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.

"Aegon," you mutter.

"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."

"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."

His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.

"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.

He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"

Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"

"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."

The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.

Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.

The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.

He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.

You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.

Aegon turns to you.

You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."

Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.

When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.

He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.

"Aegon-"

"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."

You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.

"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."

Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.

"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."

"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.

Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."

You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.

"I love you," he confesses.

"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."

"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."

His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."

Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."

"But I do hate this life I live."

He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.

"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."

"I made you miserable."

You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.

"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."

Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.

"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."

Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."

You sob and turn to your feet.

"Please... believe me."

You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."

You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.

A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.

He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."

You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."

"It was a long time coming."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."

He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."

You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."

Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.

You take a step back.

"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."

"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."

Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.

You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."

He knits his brows, "I'm looking."

"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."

Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.

He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"

Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.

Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.

Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.

Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?

When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.

Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"

"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."

"An accident?!"

Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

#aegon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen #aegon smut #aegon angst #aegon targaryen angst #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii fanfic

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toms-cherry-trees · 5 months

Text

Safe In Your Arms || Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

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

Word Count: 3.9k

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

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

Taglist: @fairysluna

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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targaryen-dynasty · 7 months

Text

SWEET POISON.

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Cregan Stark was a decent man, but your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. Yet you were ignoring him to keep the liaison between you a secret – much to your uncle's infuriation.

WORDS: 2.7 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle x niece), (semi) public sex, p in v, slight fingering, dacryphilia, slight petting, humiliating, degrading, choking, spitting, mean/dark/jealous/possessive!Aegon, female Reader (with Targaryen traits -> silver hair, lilac eyes)

NOTES: Written for @lovelykhaleesiii 🥰 You prefer the uncle x niece trope? Say no more! Thank you so much! 🤭

The arrangement between you and Cregan Stark made more than sense to tie the North to your mother’s side of the family. Especially if Aegon should ever choose to assert his claim to the Iron Throne, despite not being appointed heir by your grandsire.

It was a good plan, and nothing more than a political arrangement.

You had met Cregan once before the King’s official announcement of your betrothal and the supper he hosted in honor of it, and while he was a decent man, your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away.

All evening you had to endure the cold stare of Aegon. And while his eyes usually were glued to you with a certain softness that caused you to get lost in them, they did nothing more than burn with fury at the end of the feast.

But the announcement of your betrothal was not the trigger, you had informed Aegon beforehand a few nights ago. It was the way you clung to Cregan’s hand as he guided you to the dance floor. The way you smiled and laughed whenever the Stark made a joke. And if this didn’t fuel his jealousy, you not paying any attention to him at all certainly did.

The whole night long.

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of the match made for you, but you were just too afraid to look at Aegon once you’d noticed your mistake, for your uncle was known to be quick to anger and slow to forgive. And you weren't sure if you were ready to face the dragon’s wrath.

The liaison between you was a secret. You were sure your mother and stepfather would feed you to their dragons, if it were to become known to them that your uncle had broken your maidenhead the night you turned ten-and-nine. But the agreement of secrecy seemed to be long forgotten by said uncle, his jealousy clearly taking over.

It was no surprise that, when you eventually exited the throne room as the feast was nearing its end, a shadow in the form of Aegon trailed behind you like a predator waiting for the right moment to seize its prey.

And seizing you he did, once the hallways became more dimly lit and lonelier.

There was an urgency in him when he not-so-gently fisted your hair to pull you back, shoving you into one of the keeps alcoves. He didn’t have to speak first, as there was no need for him to phrase what bothered him. You knew all too well what plagued his mind.

“He–We–We are betrothed,” you whimpered, lips pulling into a pout while your head was firmly pressed against the stone wall of the alcove by Aegon’s hand around your throat, “do not be mad at me.”

Your heart was racing, pounding against the confines of your ribcage with Aegon’s large hand trailing over the bodice of your dress, fisting the skirts of it to lift it enough for his hand to snake underneath. “Are you really sulking now?” he growled, breath reeking of Arbor red as it fanned over your face. His thumb started to circle over the dampened spot in the center of your smallclothes, teasing your little bud. Your small hand reached for his wrist, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to claw his hand off your throat or if you used the grip to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of pleasure that left your lips was the epitome of pathetic, and the volume of it had embarrassment coloring your cheeks and neck in a bright red. Your bottom lip trembled, and, despite the pleasurable sensations that rippled through your core at the ministrations of his thumb, you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. “Y-Yes!” you all but whined, though you tried your best to keep your voice low considering you were still kind of out in the open, barely shielded by the alcove.

Aegon flashed you a lazy smirk when you focused your eyes from the bawdy tapestry hanging on the wall behind him, finally meeting his eyes. “Then quit the sulking before I give you something to sulk about, niece.”

It was well-known that Aegon was not a proficient warrior, unlike his younger brother, yet this did not mean that he wasn’t strong. His grip on your throat was tight enough to lock you in place, rendering you immobile, and when he placed one thigh between yours, you knew all hope for you was lost.

“Mayhaps I must drag you back to the Throne Room…,” he muttered, tilting his head to the side as he assessed you, watching your eyes grow wide with fear. “... bend you over the table to claim you in front of everyone. Mayhaps this will show my half-sister that you belong to me.”

You tried to cower, lilac eyes flickering between the emeralds on his gold chain and his mocking expression. “Gods,” you breathed, the thought sending shivers down your spine, “p-please, no–” Your words were cut off by your own gasp when two of his thick digits pushed the linen of your smallclothes aside to scarcely drag through your soaked mound, barely using any of your arousal to slide inside without a warning.

But, as quick as his fingers had entered you, they withdrew again, resuming to rubbing your little bud.

“P-Please,” Aegon mocked with a dry chuckle, pushing his lips into a pout to mimic the one you had made before, “you are so pretty when you beg.” The backhanded compliment seemed to be enough to dull your inhibitions, allowing a warmth sensation to bubble in the pit of your stomach. “I know you like it, sweetling,” his head dips forward, looking you down with a sharp expression, “when I treat you like the common whore you are, taking right after your mother.”

And just like that, the warmth vanished, bringing you back to the cold reality and the predicament you had found yourself in. Perhaps you should have seen it coming sooner, having witnessed all the oh so cruel jokes he had made at the expense of his own kin, his younger brother. But why did a part of you crave his cruelness so much?

Your body was torn between feeling a hunger for him and being humiliated by him, the interplay of both leaving you utterly confused. When you turned your head to the side to escape his mocking stare, and hide the tears rolling down your cheeks, Aegon was quick to force you to meet his gaze again, his hand releasing your throat, so his fingers could not-so-gently dig into your cheeks.

“You look at me when you cry,” he commanded, seemingly enjoying the power he held over you, compensating for something he lacked in his everyday life. “Those tears belong to me,” he said, gathering some of them with the pad of his thumb, “just like this sweet cunt of yours. You belong to me, not to that cunt of a Stark. Am I understood?”

When you didn’t answer, he spoke again, but not without spitting on your cheek first, feeding the shame and the humiliation you felt.

“Am I understood?”

Your face grew burning hot with the realization of what he had done, your mouth agape, but before he could spit on you for a second time, you were quick to manage a short whimper of ‘y-yes.’

His lilac eyes were dark blown, a perverted desire flickering in them, and letting you know you were right about the dragon’s wrath. He loomed over you like a vulture, and shielded your small frame from the few people passing the alcove on their way.

“You are so fortunate, little niece. Do you know what other ladies would do to be in your place, to be desired by the future King of the Seven Kingdoms? And how many other ladies would want to be you right now?” You couldn’t bring yourself to correct him, stating that your mother was proclaimed heir long before he was born, as you were too afraid to make your misery even worse. “Many noble lords would kill for their daughter to take your place,” he said, “you should thank me for only wanting you.”

You swallowed thickly, and your voice betrayed you. Instead of giving him the answer he desired, a pathetic moan slipped past your lips, only topped by your legs buckling beneath your weight at the impact of his words, of his possessiveness. His hand found your throat again, keeping you steady.

“Lo iksā daor jāre naejot gaomagon skoros vestran, nyke kessa jurnegon syt iā riña bona kessa.” The High Valyrian slipped past his lips with so much ease, the shock on your face was evident. Never before had you heard him speak the tongue of your ancestors, not even knowing if he could speak it. But the smoothness of his voice, and the lack of accent, made it clear the lazy prince had been a dutiful scholar. “Āeksio Borros iksis gīmigon naejot emagon izula tali. Kostilus mēre hen zirȳ kessa gaomagon.” If you are not going to do what I say, I shall look for a lady that will. Lord Borros is known to have four daughters. Perhaps one of them will do.

Even though no one would know he casted you aside for one of the Four Storms, you resented the thought and the shame it would bring you. “No,” you pleaded, more tears brimming in your eyes, causing your vision to grow blurry. “B–But please let us take this to your chambers,” you whined, “I am scared of someone seeing us.... me.”

“Silence,” Aegon purred, his tone a stark contrast from the harsh one he had used prior. He bowed his head forwards to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, licking up the tears that had run down, before his lips pressed a kiss to your temple. “But in my apartments no one will know you are mine, sweetling.”

So lost in the softness of his voice and the warmth of his breath, you hardly registered him undoing the laces in his breeches, only just lowered enough for him to free his hard cock. Once that was done, he lifted one of your thighs to wrap it around his hip, which brought you close enough to his cock to feel it prodding against your cunt.

“We–We can’t,” you tried to protest, wiggling out of his grasp. But Aegon was adamant, keeping his hand locked around your thigh as he solely relied on the hardness of his cock to breach your core instead of using his hand to guide it in. “Not here… please, uncle,” your voice was reduced to a whimper, and the despair audible. A thousand thoughts flashed before your eyes, the most prominent one being either your mother and stepfather, or even Cregan himself, finding you mid-act.

“I decide where I take you,” he growled your name in a condescending manner, displaying his raw need to prove himself and show the dominance he held over you, “and if I wanted to fuck you in the small council chamber during a meeting, then so be it.”

You released a shuddered breath, and the memories of the delicious stretch his cock brought you clouded your mind to the point you couldn't intervene, only to be revived a split second later with him slowly but surely pushing in. Every ridge and vein of his cock dragged along your inner walls, not making the burning of the stretch any more pleasurable than the countless times he had had you before.

He tilted your head back to expose your throat to him, allowing him to nibble your skin as he started to thrust his hips into yours. His teeth dragged along your throat over to the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he left any marks or not – even if he did, you didn’t care at this point.

The snaps of his hips weren’t particularly fast or harsh, but deep and determined enough to make your breathing hiccup each time the tip of his cock brushed the sweet spot within you. When one thrust seemed a bit rougher than the others, you released a moan that was a tad too loud for your own liking, but alas, the man in front of you didn’t think so, and was quick to change his pace to coax even louder sounds of pleasure from you.

“Be quiet,” the silver haired prince teased, yet he didn’t do anything to stifle or mitigate your moans, “we do not want to raise any more attention, do we?” The tone of his voice was so wicked, and you damn well knew that was exactly what he wanted. If anyone was to see you two, nothing would stand in his way to get you all for himself. Not Cregan Stark, and not even your stepfather himself, the Rogue Prince.

It was far too easy for him to lose himself in you. Despite some people passing you two, exchanging hushed whispers or releasing disgusted gasps, he couldn’t stop entering you over and over as you bit back on every sound of bliss his thrusts issued forth from your lips.

The hand that cupped your cheek was put behind your head to support it, and allow him to thrust harder into you, each thrust forcing you against the cold stone wall. Perhaps it was the possibility of being caught by your own kin, or being defiled by him so openly, but your peak approached you far too quickly, more so as he adjusted his hips and brought your other leg up around his waist to make his cock reach an angle that had you gasping, whining and clenching around him ever so tightly.

“Go on,” he rasped, tilting his head forwards slightly to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear, harshly biting down on your earlobe once. “Be a good girl and wet my cock, niece.”

It seemed that all your encounters before had taught your uncle one valuable lesson, because, when you eventually did what he said and your peak crashed over you with soaring pleasure, he moved his hand to clasp it over your mouth to stifle all the moans and whines that escaped your throat. You were loud when peaking, and perhaps that was even too loud for the corrupted prince.

“That’s it,” he purred, “making a mess all over my cock. Just how I like it.”

With a grunt, he reached between your bodies to rub your little bud, prolonging your high and intensifying the feeling of your body erupting in flames as your arousal dripped down his twitching cock.

Your cunt squeezed Aegon tight enough for him to reach his peak with one final thrust, and, when his cock spent itself deep inside of your trembling walls, his hips stilled. It surprised you he didn’t pull out right after, staying nestled inside of you just a few moments longer until his breathing settled back to normal.

Your senses came back slowly, until it didn’t feel like a haze anymore, and made you terribly aware of what had happened. His hands ran over your arse before he lowered you back on the ground, a smug smirk gracing his features.

“Do you know that once I am king, I shall fly North to claim what is mine. You. And I do not care if I must burn down Winterfell or feed that Northerner to Sunfyre. I will come and I will take you.” The determination with which he said it rendered you speechless, as it was far from the Aegon you got to know growing up, and you feared for what the future might hold.

That night in your chambers, when you had changed into a black shift, you stood in front of the mirror and watched your reflection. Upon looking more closely at your neck, you spotted a purplish bruise right at your throat, and it appeared that mayhaps your uncle’s wish might be fulfilled sooner than anticipated when you had to face your mother in the morrow to break your fast.

Modified my taglists so: General Taglist: @aemondx @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @sophie-looks-at-stuff @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay

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arcielee · 27 days

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Fare Well

Photo credit.

Summary: You visit Aegon after another council meeting ends. Paring: Aegon Targaryen x female!reader Word Count: 1600+ Warnings: Reader AFAB, knifeplay, object penetration, kissing, p in v, creampie, using intercourse as an escape from reality. Author’s Note: Listen, the new trailer came out and our muses are buzzing again. This smutty piece was inspired by this story by @valeskafics as well as this beautiful edit by the beautiful @bucknastysbabe. The title is from Hozier, as you all should come to expect now, and this can also be read on ao3. This is dedicated to @f4ll-for-you, my wonderful Tumblr kindred spirit who made me into the Aegon girly I am today. 💜 A huge thank you to @targaryen-dynasty for beta reading and making sure this all made sense. 💜 Enjoy!

“What troubles you, your grace?”

You had remained in the shadows and listened to the voices grow louder, though still muted through the walls, with their worries of what was to come next. They exited one by one, the morose men chosen to serve the king’s council, with the lord commander of the kingsguard escorting the queen dowager donned in green, her eyes downcast and her expression etched with her perpetual worry since her lord husband had passed. The lord hand was the last to leave, his face lined and wearied, his slow gate returning him to the tower where he would–as Aegon confided to you–continue to pen letters to garner support across the realm.

It was only then that you dared to enter the room. You saw Aegon was seated at the head of the table, his violet gaze placed on the Valyrian dagger in his hands, the iron and rubies that once belonged to the Conqueror gleaming above him.

The sun was streaking through the windows behind, giving him a kingly glow. His hair was a shade lighter and his cheeks sunkissed from the hours aback Sunfyre; despite the threat beyond the horizon, you knew that Aegon enjoyed patrolling the skies with his brothers.

It was these little confessions that he shared with you in the clandestine moments stolen within the walls of the Red Keep. He told you how he wished to be distracted, to allow a reprieve for his mind that weighed heavy with this anointed crown, and you were just this distraction, flesh and blood pulsing with your desire.

It was then he looked up to see you still shyly posted in the doorway. “You seemed troubled, your grace,” you repeated with kindness, with concern.

“I am now always troubled, it feels,” his smile was forced. “It seems to be something that comes with the weight of this.” He removed the crown and it echoed dully as he dropped it on the table. “But perhaps you can serve your king.”

Your foot pushed the door until it closed soundly, and you took a step towards him. For a moment you saw the boy you had grown up with, mischievous and smirking, peering up at you from beneath the title of king. “This is why I am here,” your reply was sultry, and you saw how the black began to swallow the color of his eyes. “To serve, your grace.”

Aegon sheathed the dagger and set it aside his crown before slouching back to spread his legs wider in the ornate chair he sat. Your stomach tightened at the sight of his thick outline against his thigh, pressing through his slacks, and you felt the flutter of that desire trilling your spine, spilling back into your veins.

Your heart vibrated beneath and his lips curled upwards when he noticed where your eyes fell. His large hand patted his thigh.

The gesture summoned you and you moved within his arms reach. He pulled you onto his lap, his face burying into the curve of your neck with a groan, a deep inhale that tickled. “Your grace,” you giggled, squirming in his hold, your blood warming your skin.

“It is only us now,” he murmured against your skin, “and all I wish now is to tear away these layers, lay you on this table, and have what lies beneath your finery.”

“You would not dare,” you whispered, your eyes bright.

His fingers dug into your hip while his other hand snaked under your thighs to lift you up from his seat. You giggled again, your arm quick to wrap around his neck to brace for his step forward as he set you on the edge of the table. His hands pawed at your layers, searching to find the dagger and he began to slice through your fabric.

Your surprise spilled from your lips. “Aegon!”

He did not falter, but sheathed it and set it back down so his hands could grab fistfuls, tearing away the fabric to allow you room to part your thighs and welcome him. Your hands moved from his chest and combed through his hair, smoothing the indent left behind from his crown. He hummed from your touch, his hands moving from your hips and following your curves to your backside, pulling you closer so he could tilt his chin forward and capture your lips.

His kiss devoured you wholly, pulling the air from your lungs with the dizzyingly desperation of his lips against your own. Your arms wrapped again around his neck and you rolled your hips for friction against the warmth he emitted through his royal garb, your fingers clawing at the fabric.

You could feel his smile against your lips, his fingers returning to his hold on your hips. The outside of his palm rested on the dip and his thumbs pressed to the bone, eliciting a pleasure that jolted through you. You moaned softly and his mouth broke away, wet kisses that now trailed along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the slope of your neck.

“Aegon,” you could not help but whine, and you tightened your legs around his hips.

He turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, flushed. For a moment you were lost in his heady gaze, only brought back once you felt his hand trailing the detailing of your bodice and pressing until you laid back on the table. His other hand retrieved the dagger once more and your smallclothes were cut away, the air crisp against the slick between your thighs.

“So wet for me already,” he clucked his tongue, “and I have barely begun.”

Your stuttered response only further goaded him. His brow cocked. “What was that?”

“Please,” you licked your lips. “Touch me, Aegon. Please.”

The darkness in his eyes glittered with the sunlight, and his satisfaction curled across his square jaw. “No. Not quite yet.”

Before you could protest, you felt the pressure of something that was smooth, almost cool to the touch. You peered down to see the sheathed dagger pressed sideways to your bare cunt, the ruby stone sliding against the slick, the blossom of your arousal allowing him a circular motion of the gemstone against the bundle of nerves.

You shuddered in response, your skin rising on your thighs and chest, and your head fell back, your hands pressing flat on the polished wood to anchor yourself. The unfamiliar touch began to build a familiar sensation, something that fluttered throughout, catching your exhale in your throat.

“Aegon,” you cried, his name spilling sickly sweet from your lips, an endearment with the desperation of your tone.

“Let me,” he soothed, his voice rasped with his intent focus.

He moved the hilt and its decorative ridges rubbed along your swollen nerves. You squealed with the touch and then the intrusion, feeling his palm press to the inside of your thigh. “Trust me,�� he whispered, his eyes boring between your thighs. You relaxed to his touch, feeling the curve of the handle pressing sweetly within you.

It sparked lights before your eyes and Aegon was pleased. He moved his thumb to replace where the gemstone rubbed enticingly before, matching the tandem of the hilt that now pulled you upwards to the prior peak and then past. It filled your chest, a bursting euphoria that pulsed your walls around the handle.

“Sȳz riña,” his voice low with his praise. Good girl.

Your head lifted, drowsy, and you saw him touch the glossy shine that now covered the hilt, his fingers showing the sticky web of your climax. His eyes met with yours as he showed you, and his eyebrows raised when you pushed to sit up, your hand gently covering his own to pull it towards your lips, licking the ruby and tasting yourself.

It clattered to the cobblestone and his free hand now grabbed the nape of your neck, his lips finding yours with his returned desperation. Fingers collided to loosen his drawstrings, your hands pulling his cock free and guiding his blunt head to press against your silk entrance.

His large hand wrapped around the base and you cant your hips, angling yourself so his cock can slowly sink into your wet warmth. You mewled from the delicious stretch and he shuddered once he was fully buried between your thighs. Aegon paused, stealing a kiss, a taste of tenderness on his lips as he began to rock against you.

It started slow with a low groan spilling from his kiss swollen slips as he watched his cock disappear inside you again and again. He savored the lewd sounds, your soft cries as he pushed deeper within you, your fingers grasping to hold yourself upright, to remain as close to him as possible.

Your body still simmered with your prior release and it did not take much to build again. His hips snapped against yours with the wet sound of skin to skin, and your walls began to flutter. It is a breathless chorus, your soft gasps and his low groan, your pleasure pulling with a creamy spill of passion that tightened around him, his cock pulsing hotly within you.

You fell back to your elbows, trying to catch your breath, and Aegon slumped over, his damp brow pressing to yours, the mess of his golden waves falling across your face. His scent washed over you, exotic oils that were sent as gifts and the sheen of sweat on his skin.

The council chambers are noiseless now, and you hold still under the dimming candles lit for the chandelier above. It is another clandestine moment stolen, where your hearts thrummed in unison before slowing back to their regular pace, pulling you back to the heavy reality that settled in the quiet.

It lingered in the shadows, the faraway thought, the threat beyond the horizon, the echoed worries returning of what will come next.

Tumblr kindred spirits [taglist]: @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @girlwith-thepearlearring @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @multyfangirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowprincesa1 @officerbrowneyes @qyburnsghost @namelesslosers

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon x female!reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #female!reader #fare well

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vsnyarbll · 24 days

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Pillow talk between Aegon II and his wife

(drabble)

words: 877

warning: explicit language, fluff

You were lying top off Aegon. His arms were around you. His eyes were closed, but you were sure he wasn't asleep- he was playing with your hair.

Your head rested on his chest, and your hand gently caressed the side of his body.

It must have been past midnight already.

The only light in the room came from candles that were almost out. Even the moonlight didn't shine in through the open windows.

You felt happy to have him. You kissed his chest, and Aegon began to run his other hand along your arm.

You'd had a long evening. Aegon's hard kisses had softened- he didn't want to hurt you.

You tried to think of something else as your mind drifted again to the way he had kissed you and held you all night long.

You wanted more, you always did when it came to Aegon, but you weren't sure your body could take another round.

"Aegon?" you said calmly.

Aegon didn't open his eyes, but he murmured.

You focused on the first thing that would take your mind off Aegon's body and... his cock.

"Do you think fishes drink water?"

Aegon's hands stopped moving over your body. "Fishes?"

Your question was clear. "Yes?" You said.

"Isn't it... meal?"

You lifted your head from his chest and looked directly at his face. He had opened his eyes. Aegon was looking at you with an expression that said he wanted more, too.

"Aegon, they are animals."

Aegon raised his eyebrows in surprise.

It was hard to believe he was a prince who had been taught lessons for as long as he could remember.

"Animals? Then I think they drink?"

You threw your hair back. "Water?"

"No, my love, wine."

You patted his chest and laughed.

He watched your laugh with a crooked grin.

Since you married, it was always difficult for him to wait for night during the day. He would want to go to his room and feel every inch of your body again. He would want to hold your chin and tell you to open your eyes while you closed them in pleasure. He would want to feel his body tremble every time you moaned his name.

He never wanted the nights to become days. You were the only thing that made his life better.

"What?" you said with tired eyes and a smile as you watched him looking at your face.

Aegon's smile grew. "Nothing."

He loved you.

He was afraid to love you. It scared him to put you at the center of his life.

But he loved you deeply.

He didn't want someone to fix him. And you didn't want to fix him. He would never be an ideal prince like Aemond, but neither of you cared.

You two were the most compatible couple of the seven kingdoms.

He was thankful that he had a life to share with you.

He even thought of going to the Sept with his mother.

While his mother thanked the gods for their health, he would kneel beside her and thank the gods that you had accepted him into your heart. And... that he could fuck you every night.

He kissed your cheek firmly. "Let's sleep. I'm worried that if you don't get enough sleep, you won't be able to speak properly tomorrow."

You muttered something under your breath and buried your nose in his neck.

"And make sure you rest. I don't want Daeron to make fun of us again if you can't walk tomorrow." He said, unable to stop laughing.

You blushed and lightly pinched his arm. "Like it's my fault."

Aegon placed a kiss on your shoulder. "Of course, it's your fault! I could have kept my hands off you if you weren't so delicious."

You lifted your head from his neck.

When Aegon saw your flushed face and strand of hair sticking to your forehead from sweat, he stroked your cheek.

Contrary to what you expected, he didn't say anything to embarrass you again.

“I've never loved anyone as much as I love you.”

a/n: I love him so much you don't understand

#aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #prince aegon #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen fluff #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon fanfic #aegon drabble #house of the dragon #drabble #hotd aegon

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spider-stark · 2 months

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LITTLE DRAGON

Aegon II Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Summary - Your elder brother, Jace, attempts to teach you how to wield a sword. Aegon, your new betrothed, interrupts.

Warnings - slight Jace x Reader but you can ignore that alright

Word Count - 3.8k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

“You aren’t tucking your elbows!”

Jacaerys shouted from across the training yard, sparing your horrid fighting stance a half-moment’s glance before shifting his focus back to the weapons table laid before him, enamored by all the fresh steel he had to choose from.

Sweat dripped from your hairline, trickling down your temples and giving your reddened cheeks a glossy sheen. The sun’s rays felt particularly relentless today, blistering down upon the yard and reminding you of just how much you hated summers spent in King’s Landing, already dreading the thought of being stuck here.

You had grown accustomed to the cool, dampness of the island you had called home for the last several years. Dragonstone was almost always engulfed in a cover of clouds, and the soft breeze rolling-in from the Blackwater ensured that the warmer months were never quite as stifling as they were in King’s Landing.

“I am tucking my elbows!” You howled at him, gritting your teeth against the growing pain in your biceps.

The two of you had been out in the yard since sunrise, going over the basics of swordplay over and over and over again. By this point it felt like your brother’s instructions had been all but carved into your mind—plant your feet, square your shoulders, bend your knees, and tuck your elbows.

Remembering the steps hadn’t been the hard part, however. The hard part was actually doing them—and doing them right.

“No,” Jace grinned as he plucked a delicately forged rapier from the table. “You’re not.”

You blew out a breath, frustrated as you dropped the faulty form all together and let your arms hang limp at your sides. The training sword hung heavy from your hand, the tip of its blunt blade digging into the dirt.

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, watching as your brother drew closer to you, admiring the nimble blade in his hand. “I’ve bent my elbows a thousand different ways—and none of them have been right!”

“That’s the issue! You’re bending your elbows, not tucking them!” Jace reprimanded, though his voice remained gentle, as it oft was when speaking to you.

Your patience was wearing thin as your frustration grew, aggravated by not only the sweltering heat and swordplay, but also yourself. Your brothers had mastered the basics of fighting when they were less than half your age—and yet you couldn’t even manage a half-decent defensive stance.

Exasperated and nearly at the end of your rope, you knew that you probably looked as miserable as you sounded. “Are bending and tucking not the same thing?”

“Bending your elbows is a subtle movement,” Jace started to explain, “it helps you maintain some degree of flexibility. But tucking your elbows is more rigid, making for a better defense mechanism. By keeping your elbows close to your body, you’re tightening your posture and making it harder for your enemies to land a blow.”

Adjusting your grip on the training sword, you brought it back up into a ready position, both hands now clutching the hilt. “So all I need to do is pull my elbows in closer?”

“Exactly!”

Focusing on each of the movements, you slid one foot slightly ahead of the other, balancing yourself as he’d instructed earlier. You took care to keep your knees bent, just enough to ensure that you could easily dodge or leap out of the way of an incoming strike.

Once you were confident that you had done those steps correctly, watching as Jace nodded along in silent approval, you lifted the sword so that the pommel fell just a few inches below your breastbone, the point rising high above your head.

Then, finally, you tried tucking your elbows as close to your sides as you could, attempting to block as much of your torso as possible from incoming attacks.

“Like this?” You asked him, gritting your teeth against the throbbing in your arms, still so unused to the weight of the weapon.

Jace cocked his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Well…”

“Seven Hells, Jace!” You howled at him, trying to hold the position, “There are only so many ways to move your elbows!”

“Yes, but now it’s not your elbows causing the problem!” He retaliated, extending his arm and using the tip of his rapier to point to your legs. “Standing like you are now, if you had to dodge your legs would probably lock up and slow you down. You need to drive your knees further apart!”

You did as you were told, albeit a bit begrudgingly.

“Better?” You hissed through your teeth, ignoring the way your legs trembled beneath you.

Jace studied you, eyes narrowing as he scanned every inch of your form. “Push your shoulders further back,” he instructed, “and straighten your back out a little bit.”

Again, you shifted into the new movements, adjusting and tweaking the positions to his liking. Your fingers hurt now, too, and painful blisters had already begun to form on your palms.

“Straighter,” Jace snapped, still finding your posture to be sub-par. “And try to keep your toes pointed towards-”

Your frustration finally peaked as you fell out of the intricate form, nearly doubling over as an exhausted groan ripped from your throat. Jace’s eyes widened at the sound, doubling back slightly.

“And what next?!” You cried loudly, letting your sword fall to the ground. Throwing your aching arms out to the side in a dramatic display, you sneered at him, “Shall I hop on one-fucking-leg and shake my ass?”

A sigh escaped your brother's parted lips, shaking his head as he leaned down to pick up your discarded weapon. Regret already seeped into your mind and dulled your anger as you began to prepare for the lecture that was surely about to leave his mouth—one that was no doubt about the level of discipline required for swordsmanship, and how you needed to maintain a level head.

But, before he had the chance, another voice broke through.

“Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt to try,” Aegon quipped from somewhere behind you, sounding far too amused with himself. “Go on,” he urged, “give it a shot. I for one would love to watch.”

With clenched fists you spun around to face him, glaring into his lilac eyes, resenting the way they sparkled with something like delight. It wasn’t until his gaze traveled south that you lost your cool, however, noticing how he eyed the low neckline of your tunic, watching as sweat slipped between your breasts.

But as soon as you took a step towards him, fully prepared to strike the arrogant Prince, Jace snatched your wrist and held you back. Level-headed enough to think for the both of you, he refused to let you do anything that would give Queen Alicent further reason to despise you—even if he would have loved to watch his sister beat Aegon’s ass.

“You’re interrupting our training,” Jace told him, keeping his voice respectful despite the undeniable edge of frustration.

“Am I?” Aegon pursed his lips, staring at the training sword that was still discarded on the ground, abandoned when Jace realized he would have to hold you back from your uncle. “Doesn’t seem like you’re doing a very good job, then. It’s easier to fight when the sword is in your hand-”

Jace interrupted, “We should really get back to work,”

“No need,” your uncle swiftly retorted, flashing a cocky smirk that only served to make your rage grow further. “I actually came here hoping for a moment alone with my niece,” he continued, pinning your brother with a stare, “you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

You recognized the trap that he had set for your brother. If it were anyone other than Aegon, Jace would have wasted little time in telling them off, but this was different. Rejecting Aegon would create conflict—the one thing your mother had asked you and your siblings to avoid, if only to avoid upsetting the beast that was your step-grandmother, the Queen Alicent.

“Now isn’t a good time,” Jace tried to protest, searching for some peaceful way to turn Aegon away. “You saw her just now, didn’t you? She’s clearly in need of more practice.”

You were silent, primarily because you could feel Jace’s fingernails digging into your skin, a warning to stay silent. When it came to you, Jace wasn’t violent by any means, but he was more than willing to be assertive if it meant keeping you safe.

Aegon drew a breath, still wearing that sly smile that made your skin crawl. “Very well,” he said, and you felt Jace’s grip on your wrist loosen at his assumed victory. “Then I’ll teach her myself.”

Jace’s eyes grew wide, a muscle in his jaw feathering. Refusing to back down, his mouth fell open to speak, trying to form some other nonsense excuse to keep you from being alone with Aegon—but you stopped him.

“It’s fine, Jace,” you told him, slipping your wrist from his grasp. “If Aegon believes himself capable of teaching me, then let him.”

The look on Jace’s face stubbornly pleaded with you to take it back— to say that you were done with training for the day, to say anything that would keep you from being stuck with him.

But you refused, steeling yourself and meeting his gaze with an equally unrelenting stubbornness. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to avoid Aegon forever, and you refused to let your uncle think that he had enough of an effect on you that you would resort to cowardly excuses to get out of being alone with him.

Jace leaned closer to you and asked in a low voice, “Are you sure?”

You grimaced at the question. “Yes,” you snapped, not wanting to appear as the image of a helpless little girl in front of your uncle. But then you saw the hurt flash in your brother’s dark, doe eyes and immediately felt guilty for it. “I’ll come and find you when I’m done,” you reached for his hand, squeezing it in yours, “I promise.”

His brows furrowed, still unconvinced that it was a good idea to leave you alone with Aegon, but aware that he wouldn’t be able to change your mind. You smiled, a sweet and gentle kind of smile that was reserved only for your older brother.

“You heard the woman, Jacaerys,” Aegon waved an impatient hand, sneering at Jace. “Leave me and my betrothed.”

The word betrothed seemed to drip from his tongue like tar—a nasty and vile sort of sound that was used only to further antagonize Jace.

Jace went rigid beside you, his cheeks growing red with anger. But his hand was still clasped in yours, and so you gave it another squeeze. “Go,” you told him, having switched roles with him and now being the one to counsel him in restraint. “I’ll be fine.”

You knew that Jace didn’t fully believe you—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust Aegon. And while you were surrounded by a plethora of weapons that could be used in self-defense should Aegon try something, Jace also knew just how lousy you were at properly using them.

Even so, he didn’t argue, biting his tongue and stifling his rage in favor of the peace your mother so desperately wanted.

But even the prospect of peace wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling his hand from your grip and replacing it with the rapier he had chosen earlier, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned in, “If he tries something,” he whispered, “then shove the pointy end through his throat.”

You held in a laugh, gripping the hilt tightly. “Got it.”

With that, Jace stepped back and turned to take his leave, roughly knocking into your uncle’s shoulder as he pushed past him. Aegon cut his eyes, but you found it hard to tell whether it was because of Jace’s insolence or if it was because of how close you were with your brother.

You didn’t care enough to ask.

“Was there a need to provoke him?” You scoffed as soon as Jace was out of sight.

Aegon feigned innocence. “Well, it’s not my fault that your brother is so easily provoked,” he said with a roguish grin. “He’s the one that’s so greedy with your time. I wouldn’t have to interrupt your pathetic sparring sessions if there was ever a time where Jace wasn’t stuck up your ass.”

“Our betrothal was proposed five years ago,” you told him plainly, narrowing your eyes, “if you were that desperate to spend time with me, then I’m sure there were plenty of opportunities.”

“You’ve been on Dragonstone.”

“And you have a dragon,” you reminded him, fully aware that the flight to the island was quite short from King’s Landing.

Aegon lifted one of his shoulders in a lazy gesture. “And you have a Jace. If I had been foolish enough to venture to Dragonstone these last few years, then I likely wouldn’t have left with my head.”

A scowl etched onto your face at that, fully aware that he wasn’t entirely wrong for assuming that.

While it had been five years since your betrothal to Aegon had been proposed by your mother, hoping that it might bridge the chasm that divided your family, it hadn’t been until this past month that the Queen Alicent had finally given way and consented to the match. And, if the rumors could be believed, then you had heard that her sudden change in heart was in part due to Aegon’s insistence.

But regardless of any hearsay, you did know one thing for certain—Jace had always held onto the hope that the Queen would reject the proposal. You often told yourself that it was because he didn’t wish to see his little sister wed to your vile uncle, but many others—Aegon included, it seemed—believed that it was because your brother wished to have you for himself, as was the Targaryen way.

You knew that there was merit to those claims, even if you sometimes didn’t want to admit it.

“He wouldn’t have killed you,” you finally settled on an answer, your frustration mounting with each word. “Maimed, maybe, but Jace is no kinslayer.”

Eyeing the rapier in your hand, Aegon asked, “And what about you?”

You paused, glancing at the nimble blade of your weapon.

It was thinner than the training sword you were using—and a lot sharper—but it was awkward to hold, all its weight concentrated towards the hilt rather than distributed throughout. Even if you did want to use it against Aegon, you were probably more likely to hurt yourself than him with how little experience you had and how poorly training with Jace had gone.

After a moment, the corners of your mouth tilted upwards in a twisted imitation of a smile, flashing your teeth at him. “Let’s just say that I’m not my brother,” you answered, purposely vague.

Aegon’s stare narrowed slightly, but he didn’t look intimidated by your declaration. “Then go ahead,” he responded coolly, spreading his arms out wide. “Give it your best shot.”

Your eyes flickered around the yard, realizing for the first time that there were no guards around right now to witness your interaction. If you wanted to kill him, now would be as good a time as any—you could call it an accident, even if Queen Alicent would try to deny it. But due to your poor swordsmanship, it was a believable enough lie that you knew most would believe it; knew that your grandsire, King Viserys, would believe it.

If you killed Aegon now, then you wouldn’t be forced to marry him.

If you killed him, then you knew your mother would sooner betroth you to Jace before ever even considering Aegon’s savage little brother, Aemond.

And that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? Jace was kind and pleasant and the heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Your brother would make you a Queen—a beloved Queen, at that.

And yet…

Aegon snorted a laugh, letting his hands fall when he saw your brow crease, your body unmoving as you refused to lunge for him. “You’re right, you’re not your brother. I might have little good to say about Jacaerys, but he’s undeniably Strong,” he quipped, the mischievous glint in his tone causing your blood to boil, “but not you—you’re just a coward.”

Your heart thrummed wildly in your chest, knuckles turning white as you gripped the hilt of the rapier tighter. Then, without Jace here to hold you back, a primal scream of frustration ripped from your throat as you launched yourself at Aegon.

The rapier’s blade led the way, your movements fueled by a rush of adrenaline. But your arms were weak and your footwork clumsy and predictable, and Aegon easily side-stepped your attack with a smirk.

Breathing heavily, you went to swing the awkward blade again, but Aegon had already made his next move—taking advantage of your lack of speed and coming up beside you, snatching the hilt from your inexperienced grip and disarming you, tossing the weapon a few feet away so that you couldn’t try and get it back from him.

But with your nerves still lit by frustration and a refusal to accept defeat, you curled your fists and aimed for his jaw.

Aegon caught you by the wrists before your knuckles collided with his face. He held fast even as you struggled against his grip—firm but not rough.

“Your brother was right,” he taunted with a laugh when you finally wore yourself out, “you do need practice.”

“Shut up-” you snarled, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

You weren’t used to this.

You weren’t used to fighting, you weren’t used to the heat, and you weren’t used to Aegon—or, at least, you weren’t used to being this close to Aegon.

It suddenly hit you just how intimate the position seemed. Your heaving chest bumped against his as he held you close, his grip on your wrists never loosening, even once you had stopped fighting and he had been able to lower your arms to your sides.

You weren’t sure that you had ever been this close to Aegon—close enough that you could smell the faint trace of mulled wine on his breath—and you felt your pulse skip at the realization, fear settling deep within your bones.

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized, but of the fact that you didn’t quite mind being held by Aegon—not as much as you should have minded it, at least.

“I could help you, you know.” He offered, his lilac eyes flashing with some distant emotion that you couldn’t recognize. “I wasn’t just trying to get rid of your brother when I said that I would teach you how to fight.”

Still pressed close to his chest, you tilted your head back to look up at him, his jaw tightening when you asked, “What do you know about swordplay?”

“I was trained by the Kingsguard,” Aegon reminded you sharply, his offense evident by the sharp crease in his brow.

You gave a dry laugh, thinking back on your childhood prior to moving to Dragonstone. “If memory serves me, you spent more time parading around with courtesan’s than training.”

Your laughter was cut short, breath catching in your throat when you felt Aegon release his hold on your wrists just before one of his hands snapped upwards, his fingers curling around your jaw. His thumb brushed gently against your cheek, and you couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t something intoxicating about the way he held you—his lilac eyes seeming to admire every contour of your face.

“Even so,” he began, his voice hardly a whisper as he ignored your claim, “I still know more than enough about swordplay to teach my helpless little dragon how to defend herself.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as the pet name slipped his lips. It stirred a hunger within you that you hadn’t known existed, and certainly didn’t expect. Your muscles went slack, relaxing in his grip as your lips parted ever so slightly, your body suddenly urging you to lean in and taste the honey that seemed to drip from his tongue.

But even as you began to oblige with your body’s urges, rising on your toes to meet Aegon’s sweet, wine-stained lips, you heard some familiar voice chime in the back of your mind—urging caution, reminding you of who was holding you right now.

Your deviant uncle—the son of Queen Alicent, who was all but your sweet mother’s sworn enemy. She might have asked you to wed Aegon out of duty, but she certainly hadn’t expected or wanted you to like your uncle, did she? In some twisted way, it felt like a betrayal to her and your true family to allow yourself to find pleasure in this—and yet you couldn’t quite deny the warmth flooding in the pit of your stomach at the feel of his touch against your face.

But, taking advantage of that swift moment of clarity, you forced yourself to take a step back and reclaim some sort of control over yourself. As his hand fell, Aegon stood frozen in the agony of his own perceived rejection as he watched you turn on your heel, walking away from him without so much as a single word.

But to his surprise, instead of exiting the yard altogether, you leaned down and plucked the blunt training sword off the ground where it had been abandoned far earlier. You left the rapier where Aegon had tossed it when he disarmed you, thinking you had no use for a blade that could cause actual injury.

“Alright,” you took a deep breath as you turned back around to face him, offering a weak smile as you swallowed your nerves and said, “If you’re so confident in your skill, then teach me.”

It was Aegon’s turn to pause now, a flicker of doubt dancing in his lilac eyes as his own insecurities continued to bear down on him. While he hadn’t wanted you to walk away, he also hadn’t expected you to say yes.

But here you were—standing in front of him, not rejecting him, and allowing him to help, regardless of how wrong it might have felt.

He's to be my husband, you thought to yourself, biting back against your feelings and trying to rationalize your desire to spend a bit of time with him, I should at least learn to tolerate him.

“Okay,” Aegon eventually said, his voice more uncertain than you’d ever heard it sound before; but hopeful too, wearing the faintest hints of a smile. “Show me your form.”

As you did as he instructed, clumsily moving through each of the movements that Jace had shown you and listening to him laugh and correct your failures, you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty as you started to think that being stuck in King’s Landing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

And that, maybe, Aegon wasn’t so bad either.

a/n - had this sitting in my drafts for a bit cause i wasn't totally happy with it, but decided to polish it up and post it anyways cause why not lmao

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danytar · 21 days

Text

“The Midnight Mood” [King!Aegon X Wife!Reader]

Warnings: Frank talk - Intimacy

Summary: Your husband returns to your chambers in a sour mood after one of the council meetings. Now you have to deal with him.

You were enjoying your time in a warm bath to relieve your head and thoughts from today's events. Your maids were washing your beautiful hair and massaging your shoulders and arms It felt very comfortable for you.

“My queen you have such a beautiful hair”. one of your maids said.

“Oh? Is this so? ”. you chuckle softly.

The other says, praising your beauty “Yes my queen.. the King is so lucky”.

you gave her a soft smilie to show your gratitude. It was true he was so lucky to have such a beautiful women like you as his wife and queen.. and his children's mother.

You were in the middle of a very friendly conversation with your maids when you felt the doors of your chambers being opened.

“All OF YOU GO NOW! ”. You hear your husband's voice ordering the servants in a stern tone.

They quickly nodded and leave the room.. leaving you and your husband alone. His facial expressions definitely do not bode well.

He was clearly angry and upset. you hated how you sent your husband in a good mood and he came back to you in a bad mood.

He threw his body on your bed in frustration and sighed in annoyance. You were still sitting in the warm bathtub of yours.. “You look sad what happened again? ”. you said.

“Sad? I don't think this is the correct word ”. He growls at you.

“What happened? ”. You reply with a sigh.

“Maybe you would interest you if you went with me to the meeting ”. He growled at you

“Are you here to fight me or something? ”.

He lifted his head from the bed sheets and looked at you with a sour face. You met his gaze with a soft look.

“You know very well I can't handle with these fuckin council myself ”. he replies

“Come here”. You told him to come closer to you.

He sighed and sat down a little closer to the bathtub. “I thought you were used to the Council's bullshit ”. you reply.

He sighs and doesn't answer you.. then he looks at your wet form inside the tub.. “Why are you showering at this time? ”. he asked you with a sour tone, he was probably looking for an excuse to start a fight with you.

“Excuse me? Do I need a specific time to bath? ”. you said.

His eyes narrow and he gets up to pour himself a cup of wine.. “Bring me one too”. He heard your voice behind him as you asked him to pour you wine as well.

He ignores your request...and when you notice this, you speak a little louder “AEGON! ”.

“Bring it yourself ”. He taeses you.

You get up from the tub without putting any robe on your naked body and approach the table to pour yourself.

His eyes pierce your body as he sees you in all your glory, getting up to pour yourself. You took your cup and went back to the tub.

He kept looking at you as you quietly enjoyed drinking your wine. you looked back at him and smilie slyly.. “Would you like to join? ”.

His eyes lit up with happiness and he forgot his displeasure.. “Ofc I would! ”. He smiled at you and started taking off his clothes.

You kept drinking and looking at him, enjoying the sight of him getting naked to you.

You were now leaning against his body in the tub enjoy each other's presence. His hands were both on your breasts he was caressing. He softly pinches your nipples and his lips caressed your neck and ear.

You felt so relieved...the feeling was so good!

Of course neither of you can keep yours hands to yourselves. “Dove? ”He whispered in your ear.

“Yes my dear? ”. you reply then you turned to face him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to sit on him..You wrapped your arms around his neck in return.

“I want to come back as a prince ”. He replies

“Wh- What? ”. you chuckle softly

“Don't laugh I am serious ”. He squeezes your ass

“Can I ask why? ”. you smilie slyly because you already know the answer but you wanted to hear it from his lips.

His hand rose from your nape to push your hair slightly “Hmmm.. ”.

He approached your ear, his hot breath on your neck “So I can fuck you all the day and night without worry that I have duties and seven kingdoms to rule”. He whispered.

his dirty talk made you blush a little.. “ but we still sleeping together almost every night.. ”. you said.

“I know but.. I miss sleeping until noon with my cock inside you.. don't say you don't like it ”. he replies With a cheeky smile.

“Aegoon!”. You blush and hit his shoulder playfully.

he chuckles and replies “Come on now.. How about we move you to bed for another round? ”.

“Are you planning to make me walk side to side tomorrow? ”. You complained.

“This is a good idea ”. he chuckles and lifted you from the tub.

“Aegon! ”. you chuckle because you knew that nothing would stop your husband from taking you again and again.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon headcanons #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x you #aegon fanfic #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon the elder

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

Playing with Fire

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon II Targaryen

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

warnings: none for this part other than some sensual themes

word count: 4k

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouch!” you yelp, swatting at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you under- ooof!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am hiding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She begins to curtsey but Aemond waves her off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aemond,” he insists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mother scoffs at your concerns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am quite frightened.”

Aegon’s head snaps back at that.

“Frightened?”

You nod.

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

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

Your breath comes out shakily.

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you have?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my prince, at least-”

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

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

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

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

“Aegon,” he insists.

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

Then he turns on his heel and is gone.

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

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Text

Based on the prompt “is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Where’s it from? Idk. I just barely remember the prompt itself.it just screamed Aegon to me and this shit popped out.

The day had been long and tiering for your feet that throbbed with ache within your uncomfortable shoes. You were more then thankful of the fact that the day was finally drawing to a close and that you could let your guard down within the confines of your chamber; Indulging yourself with prospects of having a proper soak in the bath to ease the tension in your muscles.

Your body pleaded you for rest, your eyes had begun to weigh heavy with fatigue and your mind was slowly cloaked over by a blanket of fog, all of it gradually piling up on one another within the time it took you to enter your chamber no less. So much so that you almost didn’t account for the fact that there was a human shaped figure upon your bedsheets until you moved away from the now locked door, locking eyes.

You sharply inhaled the breath within your throat, clasping your hand over your chest before addressing the very much naked male. “Aegon, is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” The prince simply shrugged, acting as though this was quite the common occurrence within the Keep when it really wasn’t. “I overheard that you were having a bad day and I merely wished to surprise you, my dearest.” He claimed, smirking when he noticed the effort you put in keeping your eyes above a certain level of his bare body.

“Though it seems to me that you’re trying to protect what semblance of honour I have left by averting your gaze from the…less descent aspects.” Aegon continued as he removed himself from your bed and walked behind you so he could press his body against your clothes back as rest his head on your shoulder, his breath skimming the lobe of your ear and neck, causing the goosebumps to arise. “You’re allowed to look you know…but you’re encouraged to touch as well if it relives you of the stress.” He whispers hotly, his hands clambering up your arms and rest on your shoulders as they began to knead the aching muscles there, causing you to groan.

“What’s your motive Aegon, your not normally this…giving.” You asked as his calloused fingers began to massage the base of your neck. You hear him huff as he moved to stand in front of you, his fingers now toying with the hairs on your neck as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m trying to show my appreciation for everything that you’ve done for me and here you are questioning my motives.” Aegon’s observant eyes gauging even the most minute expressions your body subconsciously gave in terms of enjoyment.

“I’m hurt y/n, truly you wound your prince. Though I’m not entirely against you making up for it through more…intimate means.” He purrs seductively, gently cusping your jaw in his hand, running his thumb back forth across it. To feel Aegon’s bare body pressed up against yours brought forth a feeling from the pit of your stomach; One you couldn’t quite describe as either lust nor disgust. It wasn’t in between either; His body was beautifully sculptured from porcelain and the heat coming off of him only made you yearn for sleep even more, though preferably within the residency of his arms.

As tempting as Aegon was trying to come across, you didn’t feel it within you to indulge his sexual fantasies tonight, already having exhausted yourself enough as it is and peeled yourself away from him to your side of the bed before starting to undress yourself by removing your shoes first. “As nice as that sounds my prince but I fear I maybe too tired to indulge you in those sorts of physical practices. I wish for sleep more so then anything you could offer.” You offhandedly told him, tucking yourself beneath the covers after successfully changing into your nightwear, too tired to care about the audience of one you had stare into your back.

“That tired huh?” Aegon asked, tucking himself next to you under the covers. You hummed, thankful that he has stopped his advances for the night, just this once. “Would you allow me to hold you as you drift off?” It was strange to hear him ask but you didn’t have the heart to interrogate him further and instead burrow your head into his pale chest, allowing yourself to drown in his warmth as a sigh of relief escapes your lips. Aegon chuckles, bringing his arms over you in means of pulling you closer so that you were flushed against his side, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his against it so you were face to face. “Good night, dearest. I shall be here when you awake.”

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axelsagewrites · 10 months

Note

riding a needy aegon (x fem reader) and he looks at you with tears in his eyes and keeps mumbling praises against your skin. pace is slow and he can’t stop grabbing your hips and waist

Aegon Targaryen*Reward

Pairings: Aegon x wife!reader

Warnings: needy Aegon, begging, morning sex, f!receiving oral, face riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex, smut 18+

Word count: 1559

Masterlist Here

“Please,” his lips whined into your ear while his hands pawed at your chest. Aegon lay behind you, rubbing his morning glory into your ass for whatever friction he could get. “I need you,”

You hummed, a hazy smirk appearing on your smirk as you finally woke up, “Need me or just want me?” you teased.

“Need,” Aegon whined as he squeezed your soft flesh, “Is it so bad that I want you?” he asked, his head falling into the crook of your shoulder.

“Only when you’re so impatient about it,” you chastised as you pushed him off only to roll over to face him, “You might want me, but do you deserve me?”

A loud whine came from the prince, “I’ll do whatever you want,” he said as he grabbed your wrist. “Anything you want just please touch me,”

“Hmm,” you said, drawing out the sound as you placed your hand on his shoulder to push him back. “I’ll need to think about it,” you said. Your clothes still lay discarded from the previous night so when you pushed Aegon onto his back you could see him in all his glory. His cock stood up already wet with precum and looked almost painfully hard.

Soft whines came from the boy as you moved to be sat on his thighs. Your hand trailed down his small, toned frame, running finger light touches over his chest and abs so lightly that it made him shiver. “Please,” he began to mutter under his breath over and over again.

When your hand reached his pelvis you stopped, looking up to meet Aegon’s eyes which were damp with his desperate tears. You smirked as his head fell back in frustration, his eyes closing tightly with slight tears trickling down his cheek. Your hand moved from his pelvis to his wrists. “Don’t be such a baby,” you teased as you grabbed his wrists and brought his hands up to hold your hips.

“Thank you,” he whispered as his hands touched the soft skin of your hips. Aegon squeezed the plush flesh of your hips, his eyes reopening to scan your body. “You’re too perfect,” he murmured as he took in the sight.

“Thank you, my prince,” you said with a light smile as you leaned forward to kiss his lips. They were soft and still tasted vaguely of last nights wine. They were hungry though and Aegon dug his fingertips deeper into your skin as his lips chased yours.

He was so caught up in the kiss that he did not notice your wandering hand till it wrapped around his aching cock. Aegon gasped lightly into the kiss allowing you to slip your tongue into the dance as you began to make soft strokes up and down his shaft. Aegon’s whines and soft moans were muffled by your lips, but you could feel the desperation leaking from him.

His lips chased yours as you broke the kiss, desperate for the taste of your lips again. “So desperate for me,�� you chastised.

“Yes,” he whined without shame, “so fucking desperate for you,” he said as his hands moved from your hips to squeeze your waist. “Please you’re all I want, all I need,” Aegon begged, moaning when you squeezed his cock lightly.

You leaned down, pressing your chest into his and moving your lips to his ear, “And what is it you want darling?” you whispered before gently biting his lobe.

“You,” he whined, “Wanna feel you. wanna taste you,”

“And do you deserve to?” you asked as you sat up, speeding up your strokes as your thumb rubbed over his tip.

“Yes,” he moaned, his head falling back into the pillow, “I’ll be good I swear,”

Aegon whined when your hand stopped, moving from his desperate cock to his chest. “You need to earn it darling you know that” you said as you moved your body up his so that your hips were just above his chest, “Or do you not want to?” you asked.

“Yes, please I wanna,” Aegon said as he started to grab your hips, attempting to pull them down to finally taste you. “Wanna taste you,” he murmured looking up at you with desperate lilac eyes.

“Okay darling,” you said as you shuffled up the final distance so that your cunt was just an inch from Aegon’s watering mouth, “Be a good boy for me,” you said, almost laughing as Aegon moved his hands to your thighs to pull you down to close the gap. You gasped lightly as his tongue licked up your folds, his nose nuzzling into your clit perfectly, “So good for me,” you moaned as Aegon’s tongue began to lick needy strips up your cunt. Aegon’s hands squeezed your thighs before moving to your hips then waist then back again, squeezing and caressing every inch of skin he could reach as his tongue began to dart in and out of you. your hands gripped the headboard for stability as Aegon wrapped his arms around your thighs to try keep you from lifting off him.

His tongue worked tirelessly as a familiar knot began to build in your stomach. “Fuck just like that,” you gasped as his pace hit the perfect tempo but with your thighs clamping around his head you weren’t even sure if he could hear you. your hips began to buck and then grind softly onto Aegon’s face, his nose nuzzling your clit deeper and making shivers up your spine. Your orgasm didn’t take long to wash over your body and Aegon’s arms held you in place as your body began to twitch until you had ridden out your wave on his face.

“You taste like the gods’ finest wines,” he praised as you moved down his body. Aegon was panting as you moved down his body again, his face slick with your juices and his lips red. When you settled back on his thighs you wondered if his cock was somehow harder than before. “Did I do good?” he panted.

“So good,” you praised as your eyes scanned his body before finally landing where Aegon needed you most. “You want your reward darling?”

“Please,” Aegon whined, his hands pawing at your hips.

His eyes scanned over your body hungrily as you moved your hips up, holding his cock in your hand and running his tip up your folds. Soft whines fell from his lips, his head turning to the side to bury into the pillows, “No,” you said as your free hand turned his jaw to face you, “I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours,” you said as you finally began to sink down onto his cock.

Aegon gasped lightly before groaning as you sunk down his shaft till you hit his pelvis. Your eyes squeezed shut as you took him in, taking a moment to adjust and steady yourself. Aegon’s hips began to buck up, but you put a hand on his hip to hold them down, “Just lay back baby,” you said, placing your other hand on his chest to steady yourself, “Its my turn to take care of you,” you said as your hips began to gently roll against his.

Aegon let out whiney moans as he buried himself deeper in you. his hands gripped your hips, squeezing your ass and running up to your waist, “So beautiful,” he mumbled making your eyes draw back to the needy boy’s face. Aegon’s eyes were staring at your skin, taking all of you in as you rolled your hips.

One of his hands moved from your hip, trailing his fingers over your stomach and pelvis down to your cunt as he began to slowly circle your clit with his fingers. You moaned at his touch, your speed speeding up slightly but at a steady pace.

Aegon sat up fully, his cock hitting a new angle inside you as you continued your steady rolls. His fingers kept steady circles on your clit while his spare hand moved from your hips to your waist, pushing your body into his as his lips latched onto yours for a needy kiss which was filled with broken moans and whines.

“Please I- “Aegon gasped into the kiss, his eyes screwing shut, “I think im gonna- “

“Its okay,” you said, your hands moving to hold his face, “Do it for me,” you said as you kissed him again to muffle the whine that came out of him as Aegon began to spill his seed. His eyes squeezed tightly shut and he gasped as you felt his seed, but your hips did not stop till he was done and gasping for air.

Aegon collapsed backwards onto the beds. “Fuck I love you,” he panted as he looked up at your face.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly as you moved carefully off him, “I love you too dear husband,” you laughed as you collapsed into the bed beside him.

Aegon drew the sheets up your body to cover you both. You moved to lay on your back so Aegon could curl into your side, his head lying on your chest, “You were amazing,” he praised.

“So were you,” you said with a giggle, still completely smitten by your husband.

“No, you were something else,” he mumbled against your skin, “You were a gift from the gods themselves,”

a/n: lets pretend i didnt stay up till 1 am to write this cause i was out all day and have a messed up sleep schedule

taglist: @clairacassidy @fan-goddess @valeskafics @starkleila

#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd smut

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valeskafics · 8 months

Text

NSFW Headcanons for Aegon Targaryen II, Aemond Targaryen, Cregan Stark, and Jacaerys Velaryon (x Reader)

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her reader, afab reader, daddy kink, mommy kink, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, ye olde bondage, spanking, choking, size kink, p in v sex, oral, semi public sex, exhibitonism, literally everything

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 ❤️

Aegon Targaryen II

-loves having you on top, this man is EXTREMELY lazy, so having you ride him is a dream come true, especially when he can watch your tits bounce as you move your hips, his hands coming up to squeeze them, or if he’s feeling extra energetic, he sits up and helps you ride him, taking them into his mouth

-loves fucking you raw, drives him absolutely feral

-he WILL cum first but he has great recovery time and will go multiple rounds especially if you’re on top

-hardcore mommy kink, loves it when you dom him, choke him, leave bite marks on him - he just wants to be your good boy, lives for getting praised by you

-push him too far though and you might just unlock dom aegon, bit of a daddy kink and a bit of a sadist, but this side of him doesn’t come out to play very often

-absolutely obsessed with your tits, uses them as pillows, literally will cry and beg just to get to touch them or suck on them

-whimpers like a little bitch the minute you pull away from him but with how deep his voice is, also lets out the sexiest groans when the two of you are fucking

-loves teasing you and getting you riled up enough that you make some excuse for the two of you to just run off and fuck (fingering you under the table, grinding himself against your back etc - he's literally a bitch in heat 98% of the time)

-extremely loud in bed, has no qualms about the entire red keep knowing just how good his lover is making him feel

-doesn't necessarily have a breeding kink but his favorite place to cum is inside you

Aemond Targaryen

-mr "i have no taste for depravity" is the most depraved motherfucker on the planet

-daddy AND mommy kink, loves domming you but also absolutely loves having you on top, tugging on his hair, telling him to be your good boy

-enjoys receiving oral but VASTLY prefers giving, loves the way your thighs shake, the little sounds you make when he tastes you, loves it when you sit on his face, loves rubbing his nose against your pearl, loves how fucking responsive you are to his lips and tongue

-favorite position is him on top followed very closely by you on top, likes being able to meet your gaze while the two of you are fucking

-way way way into spanking and also light bondage - loves tying you up and can and will tease you for hours

-overstim king, wants you a shivering, trembling mess beneath him, loves how much you need him, how clingy you get, how you beg for him

-loves your ass, but is fucking obsessed with your tits (also thighs), while he's fucking you, if he ain't kissing you he's sucking on your tits, can't get enough of them (and if you show cleavage in one of your gowns bet that he's going to drag you back to the bedchamber and rip that off of you)

-loves the intimacy of fucking naked but also very much so gets too desperate to wait and will just lift your skirts and undo his breeches just enough to get his cock out and fuck you like an animal

-breeding kink, both because he loves seeing you pregnant AND because he needs to further the targaryen family line, also lactation kink while you're pregnant (this all falls in line with his mommy kink and obsession with your tits let's be so real)

-also very much so into choking (both receiving and giving)

Cregan Stark

-cregan stark is the greatest lover in all of westeros, daddy kink + breeding kink are his main ones but shit, he'll try anything once

-not particularly vocal in bed, but will let out these quiet little grunts and moans of your name, growling in your ear when he fucks you about how your tight little cunt feels so perfect and is meant for him

-loves fucking you from behind because he is an ASS MAN, will pull you up so your back is to his chest and bite down on your neck as he continues railing you (yeah, he's a biter 100%, loves marking you up)

-EXTREME BREEDING KINK, loves pushing your knees up to your chest, filling you up, telling you how he's going to breed you, fill you with his seed, watch you grow round with his child, and then fuck another one into you (pushes his fingers inside you after fucking to make sure his seed takes)

-possessive and jealous, very easy to rile up and get him to drag you off to fuck you in some dark hallway in winterfell

-loves spanking you, watching your flesh jiggle as his strong powerful hands come down on it, hearing you whimper and beg for his cock

-not averse to you being on top, but very much so a dom, will try being a sub for you if you want that, but truly? it's just not his favorite

-you're typically the one who teases him at feasts, a hand a bit too close to his cock, squeezing his thigh has him all but tossing you over his shoulder and heading off to the nearest bedchamber to fuck you

-loves it when you get a little bratty because then he'll just fuck it out of you

-edging king, loves bringing you so fucking close to your peak and then stopping, making you beg for him and promise to be his good girl

Jacaerys Velaryon

-jace seems so sweet and unassuming but he is a fucking animal once you get him in the bedroom

-the first two or three times he fucks you, he's gentle and attentive, but after that, prepare for dom jace - DADDY KINK FOR DAYS

-similarly to cregan, he loves fucking you from behind, grabbing onto your waist or tits as he pounds into you

-he's big, like so girthy you can't enclose your hand around his cock and it's long, like it will take you time to get used to this man but he stretches you out so fucking perfectly

-loves speaking high valyrian to you in bed, and if you speak it back, calling him "my king" or "my dragon", he will go absolutely feral

-loves finding the stupidest reasons to punish you and give you a nice little spanking till your ass is raw before fucking you again

-insane breeding kink, but also a pregnancy kink, loves the way your breasts are so full, how radiant you look, your stomach swollen with your unborn child, evidence of the love you two share, cannot get enough of fucking you while pregnant, only ever cums inside of you

-if you want to, he'll def let you be on top, it's just that he prefers being the one domming you

-let's out the hottest moans, loves dirty talking, whispering the filthiest things in your ears while he fucks you

-a bit of an exhibitionist in that he'll fuck you knowing full well aemond or aegon can hear and wants them to know that it's him getting you to scream

-the perfect face to sit on, loves grabbing you by the thighs, rubbing his nose against you, obsessed with tasting you

#aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #cregan stark x you #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aegon x you #aegon x reader #cregan x reader #cregan x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #my writing

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aemondsbabe · 4 months

Text

Anniversary

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

pairing: modern!aegon x f!reader

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

word count: 1.8k

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

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @gameofthronesdaily!

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

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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adragonprinceswhore · 4 months

Text

Teaching The Unteachable I Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Smuffy Christmas, December 9th I Masterlist

A request by @dd122004dd, thank you so much for sending it in! I had a blast writing this❣️🥰

Prompt: Playing with the other's fingers + Temperature play

Summary: Aegon has begged you to help him better his High Valyrian, but when he doesn’t take your lessons seriously, you come up with a fitting punishment

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and happily married to Aegon, temperature play, (somewhat unsafe) wax play, dry humping, (slightly) sub!Aegon and dom!reader

Word Count: 1300

---

“No, you need to roll your R’s. Like this: zaldrīzes”

Aegon rolls his eyes before mockingly impersonating you, “zaldrīzes”.

“No no, place the tip of your tongue by the roof of your mouth”, you explain, demonstratively opening your mouth to show your husband how he should place his tongue to achieve the sound he hadn’t yet mastered.

Aegon’s eyes light up in mischief as he regards you. “I’m afraid I do not quite understand, my love. Perhaps if you place your tongue in my mouth, you can demonstrate it for me?”

Now it is your turn to give him an unimpressed look.

“If you want the realm to view you as a true Targaryen, you need to know how to speak like one”, you chide him, eyes sternly locking with his.

“I do not give a shit about how the realm views me”, Aegon replies, sincerity evident in his playful tone. “All that is of matter to me is how tempting my wife appears when she speaks of proper tongue placement”.

You’re sitting next to each other by the table placed a few paces from the hearth burning in your shared chambers, Aegon’s hand continuously playing with your fingers.

“You come to me sulking over the fact that your High Valyrian is no better than it was back when we were mere babes”, you sigh, “begging me to teach you”.

Aegon hums as he bends your ring finger in his palm.

“Yet you do not listen to a word I say”, you scold him before pulling your hand away from his grip.

“My love, I have come to a regretful realisation”, he replies with feigned gravity weighing heavy in his voice. “I’m afraid I’ll need another tutor”

You answer his declaration by raising an impassive brow. A grin breaks out on his face.

“One that doesn’t make my cock hard as soon as she opens her mouth”.

Your eyes go wide at his crude remark, hand coming up to lightly smack him on the chest for his lewdness.

“Aegon-“

He winks before moving closer to you, restless hands coming up to squeeze your thighs over your skirts. “Call me husband”.

It is hard to stay mad at him in playful times like these, when he uses every charismatic trick he knows. Yet you have to remain strong, if only on the outside.

“Why should I waste my days teaching the unteachable?”

“I am your husband. Your valzȳrys”, Aegon triumphs, hands moving up to pinch the flesh of your hips over the satin fabric you’re donning.

One of the candles adorning the wooden table by you draws its last breath, hot wax running down its side. Your finger comes up to collect some, a pleasant chill running through your body at the sudden sting of warmth.

“You can’t even say that right”, you tell him, a petty ridicule you know he won’t take to heart, as your eyes stay fixed on the wax slowly hardening on your fingertip.

“Then teach me”. His hands grab onto your sides tighter, pulling you off your chair and towards him. Instead of giving in too quickly, you resist his demand momentarily, feet steadily placed on the floor to hinder him from pulling you onto his lap.

“Valzȳrys, I think you’re in due need of a punishment. For being such a disobedient pupil, and for talking about your tutor in such lewd ways”, you say, voice serious but eyes shining with mischief.

Aegon looks up to meet your gaze, the grin on his face growing wider as he nods.

You climb onto his lap, straddling him, your noses almost knocking together from the close proximity. He brings his hands to rest around your waist, but you grab them both and gently place them on the armrests of the chair.

“No touching”, you instruct and he nods obediently.

You’re sure you can sense the rigid proof of a growing arousal where your centres meet, and your strict demeanour almost falters at the realisation. You haven’t even begun, yet your husband is desperate for you.

You fight off a victorious smile as you pick up one candle, flame still burning, and look into Aegon's lilac eyes, The hand not holding the candle moves to untie the strings at the top of the white undershirt he’s wearing.

“If you fail to properly recite the words I ask you to say”, you start, the grin you’d tried to fight off causing the corners of your mouth to twitch upwards, “I get to pour wax on your chest”.

Your husband’s eyes light up in intrigue, “and if I say the words correctly?”

“You’ll be awarded the satisfaction of knowing you are coherent in your native tongue”, you respond sternly.

Aegon watches you expectantly.

“Wife”, you begin your unwonted examination, swirling the lit candle between your fingers.

“Ābrazyrys”, Aegon confidently replies, raising his face slightly in pride.

You tilt the candle to the side, allowing the hot wax to pour down onto his slightly exposed chest. He gasps in surprise and you tut at his reaction.

“Atrocious pronunciation”, you chastise your husband, eyes shining with amusement. He inhales deeply, hands gripping the sides of the chair tightly.

“Again”, you demand.

“Ābrazyrys”, he breathes out, a whimper escaping his lips as you pour more wax on his chest. You are now certain that the hardness against your centre is evidence of how much he’s enjoying your teaching method, so you languidly roll your hips against his.

“Ābrazyrys”, you correct him as he grunts at the feeling of your core pressing against his. The wax on his chest had congealed, resembling pearls resting on his flustered skin.

The alluring sight causes you to momentarily lose your senses as you press a kiss against his lips; the flustered pink tint of his cheeks too appealing. When you pull away, he follows your mouth for more, but you give him a pointed look before continuing,

“Thank you, wife”

“Kirimvose, ābrazyrys”, Aegon all but moans as you pour more wax down his chest in the middle of his utterance. Having him at your mercy, torturing him with stinging pleasure, has rendered you wanton as well, causing you to roll your hips against his more forcefully to dull the ache blooming there; waiting to be attended to.

You lean forward, swiping your tongue over your husband's soft lips. He pays no heed to your instructions any longer, hands leaving the armrest to circle your body, pressing you closer to him as he devours your mouth. He pushes your body in a silent plea for you to continue rocking against him, and you comply, eager to soothe your neglected core.

The passion between you almost causes you to forget the still burning candle in your hand, but you manage to detach from his lips long enough to blow it out, fingertips once again pressing into the melted wax on the top. Before it solidifies over your skin, you grab the sides of Aegon’s chin, messily pressing the wax into his flesh as you steer his face towards yours, kissing him deeply as he hisses in stinging bliss.

Perhaps he truly needs another tutor?

One that doesn’t get her cunt wet as soon as he opens his mouth.

---

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope the Aegon girlies liked it 💖💖

Everything Taglist: @humanpurposes @theoneeyedprince

Smuffy Christmas Taglist: @fan-goddess

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#aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon targaryen fluff #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon targaryen x you

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