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lovelykhaleesiii · 3 months

Note

Hello!!! For the requests, can I request one for Aegon II? Pregnancy kink and maybe some family fluff with reader and Aegon's kids?

Divine Honour.

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader

WORDS: 1,515.

WARNINGS: domesticity, references of p in v sexual intercourse, pregnancy kink/breeding kink, lactation kink, breast play, swearing, possessive!Aegon ii, slight exhibitionism.

A/N - literally anything that involves Aegon with kids, domesticity and breeding/pregnancy kink is my weakness... I am a whore like that. hope you enjoy, I've combined these two requests :) also dedicating this as a little gift to you all in honour of the King's bday!!!!

"Father! When can we choose an egg for the babe? Meraxes has laid a fresh clutch!"

"How much longer must we wait for this babe?!"

"B-Bub!"

The uproar of their high-pitched, eager voices left Aegon defeated, as he swiftly picked his youngest in his bulky arms, lifting the little princess onto his seated lap, where she settled herself comfortably. Babbling incomprehensible sounds [as she was still yet a babe herself, only able to muster a few coherent words] and idly pointing at your round, swollen belly. Your elder sons on the other hand, twins nonetheless, found themselves encircling their father like hounds, pouncing at his sides, desperate for answers, as you waddled yourself over to the edge of the royal bed, where they outnumbered Aegon.

"How many times must I tell you this, boys? When the babe is ready to come, it will come! Any day now, you'll have either a baby brother or little sister that you can dote on and protect for hours on end... Is that understood?"

The silver-haired boys both ecstatically eyed each other, giddy with excitement and anticipation for the newest arrival into the family, refusing to stand still. Turning towards you, your youngest only a few minutes apart from his elder, Rhaego, warmly embraced your side, careful with his grip around your protruding belly.

"You will find us when the babe is coming? Promise us, mother, that you will!"

The streak of worry tinged across his small, growing face, was enough to melt your heart. He was your exact twin, with some of Aegon's Valyrian-esque features. A smaller boy than his brother, and far more emotionally attached to you.

"Of course, my love. I will need you by my side, okay?"

"Now the lot of you, off to bed! Your mother needs her rest-"

Aegon's deep, stern voice clouded the room, before being met with the sighs and sounds of defeat from his twin boys. Gesturing for your lady in waiting, Sara, to make herself present: leading the boys, Rhaego and Aenys, out, as you warmly kissed each goodnight. Your littlest babe remained safe and sound, wrapped in Aegon's arms, desperately trying to stay awake, as she drifted in and out of sleep.

"And this little princess—”

The sudden drop in his tone, speaking in a volume only above a whisper, and far more softer, was enough to prove that your little girl was Aegon's weakness.

"My little Aelora, just doesn't want to sleep. She has far too much fun with her Daddy."

He plants a tender peck on her head, as she brightly smiles up at her father, taking much of his likeness, before rubbing her small eyes with her tiny fists, edging closer to slumber.

"Here—Here, she just needs her mother's boring touch to put her to sleep”, you tauntingly exclaim.

In exchange for his amusement, you take the babe in your arms, cradling her above your belly, as you gently sway her, lulling her to sleep. Aegon finds himself walking towards the edge of the bed, as he begins to undress, unbuttoning his tunic. Watching you from a meek distance, he feels a palpable twitch beneath the dark fabric of his pants, feels more tighter than he had noticed moments before. His thick cock stirring with excitement, as he witnesses the surreal vision of you holding his babe, whilst carrying his other unborn child.

"You truly are a divine sight, my love... You've never looked more beautiful than you do now."

His heavy words caught your immediate attention, as your focus pans from the sleeping babe to Aegon, looking rather ravenously at you. Although his orbs a light lilac shade, his gaze felt rather dark and menacing, his plump, cherry lips licked and glazing in the candle light. He looked as though he could devour you right there and then, you were rather familiar with this particular sight of your husband.

"Is that so?" You softly chuckle, turning from Aegon to the silent babe, before resuming your attention once more unto him.

"I do not feel so. I feel I am at my heaviest, Aeg. You honestly do not mean to say I am-"

Pouncing to stand, his heavy and heated footsteps pace towards you, a firm grip tugging at your silky night gown by your hips.

"Speak no more, Y/N. You cannot fathom how irresistible you look to me in this very instance... Put her down, I think she's deep in her sleep now, Mumma."

The firmness in his deep voice, almost a mimic of a growling predator, was an occurrence you saw in court, with your husband upholding his position as King. Aegon had established himself as a formidable man, despite the doubts surrounding his succession. You obeyed his command, gently lowering Aelora into her crib, as you nestled the babe in her minuscule, handwoven duvet.

"Come here—”

Gesturing you towards the end of the bed, his wolfish eyes lingered over your every inch, every detail of exposed skin, his hands wandering in sync with the insatiable lust in his eyes, as though it was your wedding night all over again.

"You think you do not look divine? Carrying my precious babe not only in your arms, but in your womb as well? Do you not think it an honour to carry and bear the seed of the King? Need I fuck you s'more and plenty, my dearest. Swelling you with as many children as your body can take, for you to understand your significance, hmm?"

Thoughtless against his lust-filled words, you hadn't even realised how swift and deliberate Aegon's sensual movements were, snaking his sturdy arms around your swollen, tender body, weak against your husband's touch. His soft lips latched to your tender skin, suckling at the sweet crevices of your neck, feeling your Grace slowly making his way carefully down, towards your busting cleavage, as he sat himself down by the end of the bed, pulling you closer towards him, trapped between his thickly sprawled thighs.

"Does your King not make you feel good? Have I failed you as your sovereign and as a husband, hmm? Need I spoil you more than I have already?"

Candidly unbuttoning the few clasps of your low-cut ivory nightgown, your tender, perky breasts instantly exposed themselves to your Grace, each tit filling with milk in preparation for the royal babe. The wintry, crisp air of the night left your skin crawling with chills, and Aegon's calloused hands, groping at each breast did not numb the feeling at all.

"N-No- Ahh, Aeg—"

"So fucking sensitive, look at you... I did this, I did this to you, you do well to remember that—"

"Y-Yes, y-your Grace," You feebly whimper, one hand firmly clasped over Aegon's broad shoulder and the other tangled in the short strands of his platinum locks: desperate to keep composure, as he taunts your delicate body. Flicking his thumb over the peaking buds of your raw, sensitive nipples, deeply chuckling to himself as he earns a helpless moan from you.

"Your body knows exactly how to take, my beloved. Knows what it is expected of, made to take my seed so fucking well, huh? Look at how steady your belly grows day by day, our babe kicking healthily inside... How these tits swell with that sweet, heavenly milk of yours, hmm? You were born for this, my dear. Made ripe for the taking of the King himself."

Without a second to spare, not even so much for a breath, Aegon's ravenous mouth latched itself onto your breast. His warm, slick tongue flicking at your nipple, suckling fiercely, eager for a drop of flavour. Instinctively your hands immediately drop onto his hefty shoulders, nails digging into the thick padding of his apparel. As you gradually grew more accustomed to the exhilarating sensation, your hands travelled their way back up, busying themselves by tugging and pulling at his silver strands: occasionally even guiding Aegon's head deeper into your bosom, keen to satisfy your King's insatiable hunger.

M-My body at th-the disposal of th-the King... The g-greatest honour b-bestowed. K-Keep fucking me, keeping m-me full of his seed—"

The mouth clasped tightly around your breast, a hand remained groping, kneading at your swollen flesh, whilst his other roamed below, firmly squeezing and palming at your ass cheek.

His stout chest heaving breathlessly, as he regained himself: Aegon's mesmerizingly violet eyes fluttered shut momentarily, before gazing upon you intently, a sly smirk strewed across his handsome face.

"Hmm, that's right, my beloved... We might even populate the Red Keep alone, and everyone will know exactly who you answer to... Everyone shall know that I be the man who fucks you hard time and time again, how well your pretty cunt takes my cock and seed. And when your body shows, everyone will know how willing your body is craving to be full of me. My beloved loves the attention from her King, yes?"

"I do, Aeg."

"And I love you... And the children, even the ones you will bear in time... I love you, just as you are."

general taglist - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11

credit for divider - @/firefly-graphics

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peterparkersnose · 11 months

Text

Throne

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, sugar daddy themes (not au), undefined relationship, dominance, teasing, aegon can be such a fucking asshole, guilt tripping, neck play, angst, public pleasuring, punishments (yay), dirty talk, fem!receiving oral, fingering, begging, delayed orgasm, blood play, degradation, aftercare, aegon's ownership of reader

a/n ok ok ok i actually really enjoyed writing this smut. so much. i just love me a good dominant man that does what he wants (within reason ofc we love consent here)

summary Y/N is taught a lesson by Aegon

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read time: 11 mins 1 second

“What is it?” she asked, bursting into the throne room angrily. No bows, no titles, just anger.

Aegon smirked at her devilishly, watching her approach him with such an angsty tone.

“I cannot just simply ask for you to pay me a visit?” he asks, unfolding his legs from the childish position on the Iron Throne and straightening his back.

“I don’t like being torn from my studies just because you wish to see me.”

He laughs out loud, almost mockingly. “A ‘Hello your Majesty’ and perhaps a bow would have done.” Aegon scoffed, staring her body up and down like she was a new shiny toy. He noticed the dress she was wearing; the one he had commissioned for her after she was such a good girl after their previous endeavors together. She earned it- she deserved it.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Aegon said, rubbing his legs until he got to his knees and finally stood.

“Have you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and walking closer to him.

“It’s rude to deny your king of what he wishes. I called upon you nearly an hour ago.” Aegon declares as he skips down the stairs, meeting her halfway and softly grabbing her wrists. He was just as an impatient man as he was a gruesome King. He holds her at arm’s length, looking her up and down once again with hungry eyes.

“And you are what I currently desire.”

She catches her breath as she stares at him. “You called me out of my studies… for this?”

She stares at him, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The room feels suffocating as if the tension between them has thickened the air. Her initial confusion morphs into a wave of disappointment and frustration, evident in the deep furrow that forms between her brows.

Her disgust was off-putting to him. With a menacing glare, so different from the adoring one he had for her moments ago, he pulled her close and brought his fingers to her chin, and forced her to stare into his gaze. His face contorts, momentarily betraying a flicker of vulnerability, as her disgust pierces through his facial facade. In response, his expression transforms, and his previously adoring gaze is replaced by a cold stare that bores into her soul. “I can do what I want, when I want. I am the King. Do you understand?”

The weight of his words hangs heavily in the air, a chilling reminder of his position of authority.

She does not reply, her lips tightly sealed as she gazes into his tired eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days. In fact, it was clear that he hasn't slept in days. The exhaustion seeps into every fiber of his appearance, affecting his posture, his movements, and even the cadence of his voice. His shoulders sag, burdened by the weight of ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and perhaps watching over her every movement. She wasn’t obedient enough yet for his liking, evident by her previous actions of the day.

“Do you understand?” he asks once again, this time with more anger backing up his tone. Aegon was not one to be denied, especially when he felt such ownership over her. His grasp on her wrists became tighter as his breath now drew on her ears. “You act like you don’t deserve this dress. I had it made for you. Act like you deserve it, love.”

“I’m sorry…” she whispered, closing her eyes as his words flew through her. She let out a shuttered breath.

Aegon smirked at her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a kind smirk to most, but she could recognize the evil behind his mask. “Not good enough,” he groaned.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t wear it anymore. You are misbehaving, hm? What happens to disobedient girls? Do they get to keep all the presents they were so gracefully gifted?”

Aegon’s hand moved to her neck, softly squeezing it. It didn’t harm her, if anything it would be seen as comforting. But she knew, she knew how Aegon worked. His hand traveled from her neck to her collarbone, touching the stone necklace that rested on her chest. “So pretty,” he whispered, fingering the stone. As he got bored of that, his hand traveled to her neckline. Right between her cleavage, he dipped his fingers under her hem, feeling the top of her breasts.

She looked beyond him and to the Iron Throne, feeling the oh, so familiar guilt mixed with pleasure wave crash upon her once again.

Aegon’s fingers moved from her chest, following the hem of the neckline of the dress up to her sleeve, and pushed her left sleeve down exposing her shoulder. “What shall your punishment be?” he asks her, bending over slightly to kiss her shoulder ever so softly. His hand moved to her cheek now, cupping it and forcing her to look at him once again.

“Punishment? What for?” she asked. He couldn’t tell if she was toying with him or being serious. He let out a cruel little laugh. “For being late to my summoning and disobedient to your King.” he scoffed, stating his words like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You treat me as such even though I treat you so kindly. Do you know how many coins this dress cost the crown?” he asked, pulling down her other sleeve. She shook her head no.

“More than I pay any one of these useless studs in a year.” he said, looking around at the six guards that stood obediently in the throne room. They all looked the same and sat perfectly still, their only intention to protect this arrogant man and the crown.

She quite adored the dress. Aegon really did well with this gift, it was spot on to what she wished for. Perhaps above her wildest dreams of what it could be, it most definitely exceeded her expectations from their… their strange agreement. The dress, in every aspect, seemed tailor-made for her. It was neck tied with a few buttons around the back of her neck and with a short sleeve. It was colored a deep gold and bronze. The colors seemed to breathe life into the fabric, casting a radiant glow that shimmered with every movement she made. The neckline plunged, showing off her assets quite nicely. It had beautiful traditional embroidery, one fit for a noble of quite high standings. The waistline, designed with precision and purpose, hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her frame with a subtle grace. A bust of gold adorned the ensemble, meeting at her navel and drawing attention to her slender waist, creating a beautiful pattern that enhanced her natural beauty. It was floor length and seemed fit for a Queen.

“You will behave. Even if I have to teach you a lesson. It’ll do you better than any of those stupid Septas teaching you how to be a Lady.” he whispered to her, now grabbing her hand at her side and entwining his fingers with hers. It was a surprisingly kind gesture, one she didn’t expect from him.

He led her to stand in front of the Iron Throne, her back to the chair and he stood a step below her. It felt almost wrong, as he was the King and she was just a noble Lady. She looked at him with a confused face, unsure of what he was doing. Aegon had a terrible grin displayed as he looked her up and down once more. Aegon placed his hand on her stomach, pushing her back into the throne.

“Aegon what are you…”

He shushed her quickly and harshly.

“You will obey. Do you hear me?”

She nodded. He got down on his knees, reaching out one of his hands for her to place her hand in. He graciously accepted her hand, kissing it slowly, giving each finger its deserved attention. She was flushed, embarrassed at what the guards must have been viewing at that moment.

Little did she know, that was the easiest part of this she would have to endure in terms of embarrassment.

“Did I ever tell you how pretty your hands are? So gorgeous.” he kissed her palm. “Especially when they are around my cock. That’s my favorite, seeing your pretty little fingers work for me.”

Her eyes widened as he said these words. A red tint came to her cheeks, but that only made Aegon want more of a reaction from her.

Aegon dropped her hand, now placing his hands on both of her thighs over her dress. “I want no complaints from your lips. Do you understand?”

She was hesitant to answer him again. Furrowing his brows, he was angered by her rebellion. He grabbed down on her thighs harder now, his thumb trailing dangerously close to her core. His eyes met hers once again, waiting for a response.

“Mhm,” she whined out, feeling the pressure building between her thighs.

“Good girl.”

With a sudden movement, his hands left her thighs over her dress. Aegon lifted her legs to his shoulders, each leg resting on each shoulder. He moved his hands to cradle her lower back, pulling her closer to his face. She squirmed, as she did not expect this move from him at all. She didn’t have time to complain. His hands delved under her skirt, pulling at her undergarments and swiping a finger over her bundle of nerves.

He laughed at her reaction, watching her squirm under his touch was one of his favorite sights.

“Hold your pretty present for me.” he ordered, speaking sweetly with a hint of cruelty as he bunched up her skirt, holding the expensive fabric in his hands for her to grasp. She listened.

“B-but Aegon, the guards.” she protested. He looked at her and rolled his eyes, smirking and staring at her with a look that she was the most idiotic woman in the world. “Fuck the guards, my love. Perhaps they’ll enjoy the pretty little noises you’ll make for me. Stroke their own cocks to the memory of your wails after their shift.”

She gasped at his words in shock. Her gasp was followed up with another one, but a pleasurable one. Without warning, Aegon delved his face between her thighs and began lapping eagerly at her cunt. There was no warning, just an over sense of his tongue on her.

Y/N let out a guttural groan, her hands moving straight to his hair. She pulled ever so lightly, her head resting against the back of the throne as he worked his magic. “But if anyone… if anyone were to see.” she says between breaths, now looking down at his blonde head between her thighs. He stopped momentarily and looked up at her. He licked his lips, as her juices dripped off his chin.

“Then they will see that I am very obviously busy.”

He returned to his place between her thighs, but this time brought a finger to her and inserted it.

“Aegon!” she cried out as he did, pushing herself forward and more eagerly into his grasp. She could feel his chuckle on her cunt as he stopped momentarily. He kissed her and continued his multitasking of eating her out and fingering her. His nose sat perfectly within her. It was almost as if his nose was made just for her cunt.

He works for a while more, he could feel her pulsating around his fingers. This only drove him more mad, as if he was drunk off of her. He inserted another finger, revealing another groan from her that went straight to his cock. He pumped in her faster by the second, he was sure she was going to cum any minute now. “Are you close?”

She nodded eagerly. A smile came to his lips. “Do you want to cum?” he asked, his wrist beginning to hurt with the angle he was pumping his fingers in and out of her. Oh, how he would suffer for her pleasure.

“Use your words,” he says sharply. “Tell me how you want it.”

“I-I…” she could barely form a sentence. “Tell me,” he ordered her. “Beg for it,”

Her hips rolled against his touch as she cried out for him. “P-please, let me cum.” she whispered out, with all her might she had left.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, dear.” Aegon teased her cruelly, her words weren’t enough to satisfy his needs. “Say my name like I’m yours, like you fucking mean it.”

“Aegon,” she breathed out, trying her best to keep her eyes open. “Louder,” he demanded. “Say it like you mean it.”

“Aegon!” she blurted out, loud enough for anyone down the hallway to hear her voice. “Just like that, yes.” he praised her, brushing his free hand up her thigh. His touch sent chills down her spine, a foreshadowing of what was about to come. He could feel her heat rising, her climax was definitely near. He kissed her thigh, looking up at her pretty face as she moaned, her head bowed back and her left hand in his locks. This is exactly how he wanted her; this was what she deserved. A fitting punishment for a brat such as herself.

“Yes, you can do it. Come on my fingers, pretty girl.” he says, moving his fingers to her clit and circling it just as he knew she enjoyed it. She tried to speak his name, but she couldn’t process the syllables to do so. She had used the last remnants of her voice moaning his name only seconds ago as he had requested. Only a strange mutter mixed with a moan came from her. “Oh yes, just like that.” he says, adding now a third finger temporarily, stretching her out. Aegon was pleased by her lack of words. She nods as he does so, with her hands moving from being entwined in his hair to absolutely anything around her.

Usually, when they were in bed, she would grasp the sheets when she became close. It was something to ground her, making her feel stable in her weak state as she would cum. Now as she was surrounded by swords, there wasn’t much to hold on to. But that thought didn’t occur to her, as she was too obsessed with the orgasm that currently racked through her body. She let out a cry as she stupidly grasped a sword, slicing her finger as she came.

Aegon didn’t notice this at first, all he could do was watch her cunt clamp down on his fingers. He smirked evilly as he kissed her slit once more, then grabbed the bunched-up dress from her waist and made her modest once again.

She was still breathing heavily from her orgasm, but her eyes were on her now sliced finger. “Fuck,” she whispered. That caught Aegon’s attention. He now stood in front of her, ready to scold her for her language, but then saw her wound.

“You stupid woman.” he scoffed, grabbing her wrist. He inspected the cut. “How could you be so dumb? Grabbing the Iron Throne?” he asked, looking at her with a certain look of disdain.

“I suppose you want me to fix it.” he groaned, looking into her eyes. A sense of embarrassment has filled her, more than already had. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

“Good. You’ve learned your lesson.” he smiles with dead eyes, his power trip coming to its height as he praised her.

He takes her finger into his mouth, licking off the blood. Y/N groaned as he did, as his tongue swiped the cut roughly. Aegon enjoyed watching her in pain, swirling his tongue on her cut as he did with her clit just minutes ago.

After the wound was empty of blood, he swallowed hard. So obviously, letting her know that her blood now rested in his throat. As a way to let her know that he truly does own her.

“Do you want a bandage? I would hate for that to get infected.”

He lets go of her hand.

She inspected her now-cleaned cut, but more blood seemed to seep through. Y/N knew all too well that it wouldn’t be that easy with Aegon.

“Do you want one?” he asks her. She nods. He comes close to her once again, grabbing her chin like he did before, and looked into her eyes, their faces only inches apart. “Use your words, love.” he says quietly but dominantly.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he asks, raising her chin slightly.

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” he purred once again. Aegon snapped his fingers at the nearest guard, and within seconds a bandage is delivered to him, along with some sanitizing liquid in a vile. The guard returns to his place. Y/N struggled to look the man in the eyes, knowing all six guards heard her moments before.

He carefully took her hand, treating it with such grace. “Such a shame to see your pretty fingers hurt. Be more careful next time, dear. I don’t like my things to be broken.”

Aegon took some of the sanitizer and placed it on her cut. It made her pull back her hand slightly as she seethed at the pain. “You could have warned me,” she hissed. Aegon rolled his eyes. “Watch your tongue, girl. I am doing you a favor.”

He closed the vile and placed it in his pocket, and began to unwrap the bandage. “Is it too tight?” he asked her, looking up at her with kind eyes. She knew that his care wouldn’t last long, so she enjoyed it while she could. “No, my King. Just right.” she replied. He smiled as she used his proper title, the feeling of love he had for her returning momentarily. Aegon tied off her bandage, lifting her wrist and kissing her finger.

"There we go," he says proudly, looking from her hand and back to her. Aegon was in awe of what was his. She looked absolutely gorgeous in her post-orgasm state. He huffed proudly.

“All better.”

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

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officialaemondtargaryen · 8 days

Text

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.

114 notes · View notes

aegoniiwifey · 7 months

Note

Chubby Aeg Request: Heavy Targcest, Aegon and his daughter, Aegon love to make his sweet girl ride his thigh, then bury himself inside her, bringing her to pleasure over and over, before holding her to him, showering her with love in the aftermath, making sure his dominance didn't overwhelm her

Daddy’s Princess

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x daughter!Princess!Reader

WORDS: 3,014.

WARNINGS: incest, mentions of death/war/suicide, mentions of depression, dark!Aegon ii, thigh riding, mentions of p in v sexual intercourse, cream pie, breeding kink, Daddy kink, praise kink, dom!Aegon ii, swearing, possessive!Aegon ii. mentions of pregnancy/birth.

A/N - I’ve never done this trope before but something is making me feral & I— must admit, this was hot… I got very carried away, but still hope you enjoy xoxo

credit to the original images/art work 🤍

The Targaryens were undoubtedly known for their “queer” customs, this had been widely yet sceptically recognised. Your own grandmother, the Dowager Queen, even uttered the words herself, despite having played a major role in marrying your late, beloved mother, Helaena to her elder brother, your father and the rightful King, Aegon the Second.

The Dance of the Dragons had begun to churn, when you were still nothing more than a child, however it progressed well into a few solid years throughout your adolescence, only for your father to come out victorious against his treacherous half-sister and her family of “bastards and traitors”, as he spat. The Gods had answered your endless prayers, regardless, rejoicing in success.

Once the Dance had reached its end, you had transformed into a young, modest woman, of the age two-and-twenty. Your handsome father, fifteen years your elder, conceived you during his own youth, robbing him of freedom and instilling responsibility instead, likewise with your dear mother. You had always been plagued with the pestering thought of feeling like a burden unto the young couple, as their firstborn, however your father reassured you otherwise, that you were nothing more than a blessing to him, otherwise.

Regardless, the fearsome battles determinedly fought throughout the decades, came at an inconceivable cost: the cost of the innocent, defenceless lives of your younger siblings who tragically perished in horrendous manners. Your late mother, Queen Heleana, wrought with mad grief and depression for the witness and loss of her babes, she could not bear the reality of life itself, taking her own life as a means to end her suffering.

Excluding yourself, you had no one else other than your grandmother, the Dowager Queen, who kept much to her seldom self these toiling days, isolated in her lonesome chambers, and your father...

Throughout the entirety of the ceaseless quarrels, your dear father had always ensured keeping a close eye and ear on you. Warmly reassuring your frightful self, that he would burn the world before any harm could be done unto you. He kept you close by him at all times, if he had not attended the battle himself on dragonback, Sunfyre close by your chambers, despite having a broken wing, with your own hatchling, Morghul, constantly beside you. It tore him to pieces when he made the harsh decision of having to entrust you to Larys and his unsavoury men, to sneak you off to Dragonstone where he would meet you eventually.

The most skilled guards posted ceaselessly hours on end, day and night, outside your chambers, not a single action went by without Aegon knowing, for all matters regarding your whereabouts went directly through him. During this time, you had solely instilled a perpetual trust in your father's decisions, that laid foundations in your bond with one another, which lingered even post succession of the war. It would be an understatement, that you had become heavily reliant on him, most of the time having been denied the autonomy to think and decide for yourself at such a young age, you grew to much prefer your father taking action, trusting him and only him with decisions regarding your own life. He was highly protective of you, in a way no lord nor knight of the realm could pledge and devote their lives to. You were his kin, his blood, his possession: you became his sole purpose and will to survive during the Dance.

There was, however, only one decision, you had ever made purely yourself, that would change the dynamic of the realm itself...

"Come, my sweet angel. Come to Daddy, and let me ease your mind..."

Despite the realm returning to some ounce of normalcy and peace, the nights you still endured adversity with. Troubling nightmares engulfed your slumber mind of the haunting memories of the Dance. Stirring you awake in a state of distress and panic, sweat beads drenched your forehead and mottled hair, your exposed, plump breasts accentuated in your silk, white nightgown, heaving with every haste and dense breath. Despite the adoring, relentless company of your dotting father by your side in bed, he immediately awoke in tune to your disruptive motions, persisting to remain awake, until he was assured you were comforted and sound of mind, lulling you himself back to sleep.

"Baby, sit on my lap. That's it- Another nightmare, my love?"

"Y-Yes, father."

"I know the feeling all to well, precious... Do you wish to speak about it?" Aegon huskily uttered, as his rough hands gently whisked away the odd strands of hair out of place, his other hand caressing soft circles at your lower back.

Since his heroic return from battle, despite the brutal injuries sustained, and since recovering, your father found himself constantly at your side, even in the late hours of the night. He dared not to trust many despite promisingly pledging fealty to their King, Aegon could only open up to you without the reason of duty, intimidation, or responsibility binding him to you. He wanted you. Since losing Helaena, despite never having been openly romantic with her, he had lost a companion, and had always considered you more of one than a daughter, as you grew wise with age.

Your strong-willed father had always been a man with brawn, unlike your late Uncles, Aemond and Daeron. Aegon was portly and having been raised by him, you grew familiar with his shameless, gluttonous habits. These habits exacerbated during his recuperation, as the maesters including yourself had taken to encouraging your father to eat copiously, often hand feeding him yourself with generous amounts of delicacies, rationalising that it was to regain pure sustenance.

You took pride in his recovery, aiding the maesters to heal your father back to good health, he openly stated that it was your devoted presence and love that made him whole once more. Deep in slumber with milk of the poppy to ease the pain, only he could hear your sweet, angelic voice in the blissful distance, yearning for him. Your gentle touch, as you religiously applied naturopathic ointments to his fresh, raw burns, that eventually healed his scars. He soaked in your warm presence thoroughly, mirroring your reliance on him, he too, became deeply infatuated with you.

Since becoming a mature woman, having grown into your Valyrian-esque features and physique, Aegon saw you in a fairly different light now. You noticed by the manner in which his violet, stern eyes lingered over your body for far longer than what was used to, even if it was for a few, fleeting seconds. You became a distraction in council meetings, as he vowed to have you attend, even if you were merely a cupbearer, standing aside though in proximity of him, a mere shadow: his unfazed attention oogled over you, his mind pondering over lustful, sinful thoughts, only to be beckon called back to reality by the repetitive call of his title, your Grace.

You had always admired your father, and believed there was no man that could exceed the expectations he set in stone… You were made for him, as he had sought to it himself. Blood of his blood, the Gods kept you both alive for a reason, you had discreetly believed.

"I do not wish to speak of it right now... I just need you to hold me, just for a little while," You weakly whispered with a shaky breath. Aegon, with a new found strength, a fuller and sturdy frame, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap, as he laid himself back to rest against the wooden bedframe.

"That's okay, my sweet girl. It will get easier, I promise..."

Adjusting yourself atop of Aegon's wide, meaty thigh, as you gripped and rested your head against his broad, fleshy shoulder, the friction stirring as your bare cunt grinds against his clothed thigh, slowly igniting a familiar, throbbing ache between your inner thighs.

"Hmm, how will it get easier, Daddy? Will you make it easier?" You utter, your lips lightly grazing over his plump cheek, gently guiding his head to turn in your direction: eyes inevitably meeting, your lips passionately crash against his. Aegon does not resist in the slightest, relishing in the kiss, as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, swallowing your taste, before his teeth teasingly bite and pull at your lower lip.

"I can distract my baby. Give her a pleasure no other man in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms can. I'll give my princess the finest treatment she deserves... But only if she listens and obeys her Daddy, like the good girl I know she is."

"Mhmm, yes, Daddy-" A helpless plea closely mistaken for a moan escaping your mouth, Aegon's pudgy hands, steer your legs to spread apart: you find that you can only spread wide enough to saddle one thick thigh at a time. Without needing to spell it out for you, you begin to sway your meek frame, rhythmically bucking your hips backwards and forwards, as Aegon harshly yanks your gown up, enough for your bare cunt to be completely exposed more thoughtfully, and in contact with his thigh.

"Deeper baby, you know you need to push yourself deeper or else I can barely feel you on top."

With haste obedience, you try to plunge your weight deeper against him, your arms embracing Aegon’s stocky frame tighter. His swollen, bloated gut pressing flatly against your own chest, earning a sensual growl from your father.

“Good girl… My good, little princess. Going to listen to every word Daddy says, so I can make her feel so much better.”

Your whimpering moans, and slow nods in agreement, as your head instinctively rocked back, eyes closing with pure pleasure, you could feel Aegon’s rough hands exploring your waistline, before one snaked behind your spine, keeping you steady by a careful grip on your neck. The other began to tug and pull at the silk strands of your nightgown, loosening the knot, to expose more of your obvious, ample cleavage.

“Look at how beautiful you have become. My little princess is not so little anymore, such a divine grace, a woman. No other beauty roams the Earth, as you do.”

The outstanding appraisal oozing breathlessly from Aegon's plump, blush lips, echo in your thoughtless mind with intense gratification. Treasuring each word, he worshipped you dearly, often placing you on a pedestal as great as the Iron Throne itself.

"Yes Daddy, t-tell me more."

Your helpless moans begin to sob from your mouth, filling the void of the vast room, other than the faint crackling of the dying fireplace. Your eager pace quickening, feeling the burning sensation erupt from the friction against your tender skin. Your body leaned forwards with Aegon's generous shove, as he in turn plunged his handsome face between your sensitive breasts. Feeling his lips trailing across your soft skin, hungrily suckling and lapping down to your nipple, as his other hand playfully massaged and kneaded at your other tit.

"Does princess want Daddy to fuck her stupid? Make her so full of me, she'll be dripping, begging for more, for nothing to be spared? All the princess needs to do is ask Daddy, like the polite girl she is."

"A-Aeg-"

"Words, princess. My cock isn't even inside you yet, and you're already hopeless. Didn't I teach you to use your words?"

"Hmm, Daddy, I-I need your cock, I-I need you inside of me, p-please."

Incoherent, you knew how weak and feeble you felt against your father, a formidable man, both inside and outside the confines of the bedroom.

"My beautiful baby, using her manners, makes her Daddy so, so proud. How did I get so lucky, being blessed by you?"

"D-Daddy blessed me."

Your hands clawed their way across his muscular shoulder blades, nails sharply dug into Aegon's bareback, as he often enjoyed sleeping shirtless, his natural body warmth radiating from his scarred body. Now one hand snaked its way into his short, unkempt hair, avidly tugging at his silver strands, begging for more.

"Easy baby, so needy for her Daddy, huh? Never change baby, Daddy's always going to take care of you okay? No one can take care of you, like I have..."

"N-No one. Daddy protects me from cruel monsters, a-and evil men. I-I could never leave, D-Daddy."

Groans and growls pooled from Aegon's lush mouth, as his tongue teasingly lapped and pulled at your perky nipple.

"My perfect princess. That's right, baby... Now, you ready to take Daddy's cock? I'm feeling pretty big, princess. You've been getting me as hard as Valyrian steel."

His hand found yours, firmly guiding it down to where his stiff, rigid cock throbbed densely with enthusiasm, beneath his pants, desperately aching to be taken.

"Y-Yes... Only I deserve Daddy's cock."

Rightfully earning a low, jovial chuckle from Aegon, scoring his mutual amusement and agreement, nodding to your proud notion.

"That's right baby... Only you."

Heaving himself and you atop with such vigour, you aided Aegon in pulling his pants down, as his cock sprung into full action. The sight made you shiver and whimper instantly, how its reddened tip flashed in the dim light, with pre cum already oozing generously from the raw tip. His length modest, its width had always been a wondrous vision. Regardless of the preparation or the amount of times you had taken Aegon before, you could never quite adjust to his glorious girth.

"Easy baby, that's my good girl. D-Don't be afraid, I got you. You can take it, I know you can. Making Daddy so, very proud."

Carefully positioning you atop, as you began to gently settle down, the sharp jolt of pain, as its tip etched between your silk folds, made it subtly easier for him to slip his full mass in.

"Wet for me already, my cock's practically drowning baby... So tight for me, my sweet princess. I can feel you swallowing up my fat cock."

Witlessly yet diligently, bobbing up and down on Aegon's lap, as your father vigorously thrusted his heavy mass upwards, craving to shove himself deeper into your slick folds.

"Good girl, Y/N. Daddy's going to fuck you so hard, fill you up to the fucking brim with my seed. Want to carry Daddy's babes, like a good princess? Make Daddy so proud, huh?"

"Y-Yes, I'll do w-whatever Daddy says, whatever D-Daddy wants. Anything to m-make you proud."

The rough texture of Aegon's battle-torn hands, cooed and caressed at your back, one hand gripping your neck once more, keeping you steadily mounted against his body. His other hand, continued to firmly squeeze at your tender breast, almost mimicking a wringing motion, as though anticipating for milk to ooze.

"Making me the proudest Daddy in the realm, princess. But you are far from being done with your royal duties... I'm going to fuck you day and night, till I see your belly swell greatly with child, with our child... Not till we fill this entire keep with the future leagues of the Targaryen dynasty. And if anyone dares to question our customs... They can play the fucking fool and answer to me."

Aegon, in a breathless, heated rut, finally reached his almighty gusto. His fresh, hot seed spilling up into you, as it oozed out of your tight crevices, clenched around his achingly, pulsating cock. In turn, your cum released in a liberating gesture, pouring over Aegon's rigid, thick cock.

"Hmm, Daddy spoils me s'good. Blessed I am th-that you want me to carry your heirs. Blessed I am to be carry on your legacy, Daddy."

Just as you were about to dismount from Aegon's sturdy lap, and tense cock, still stretching out inside of you, did you feel his strong embrace pulling you back down, keeping you situated over him as you were before.

"Daddy's not done yet, princess... I told you, I am fucking you endlessly till I see this belly-" His palm lightly grazing over your lower stomach in circles.

"-swell and these beautiful tits, leak with milk as I knead and suck. I will fuck you day and night, till you reek of my scent, exhausted of pleasure, and drenched in my cum and sweat. Princess belongs to Daddy and the whole realm shall know of it. I won the war, and I shall win the heart of the realm... That is you, my angel."

The remainder of the night, into the sleepless, bright dawn of the morrow, Aegon had kept his rigid cock buried deeply, and warmly planted inside of you. As the hours nudged on, you could feel yourself repeatedly peaking inside, as did your father, growing more and more numb to the cramping sensation. Your wincing and whimpers did not go ignorantly unnoticed, as Aegon would lull you, praising how proud he was of you for taking him so well. The only time he released was to clean up the god awful mess strewed across the sheets, and the minor bleeding pooling from your inner thighs.

In the morrow, he commanded the servants to fetch you a warm, floral scented bath, with the condition that he bathe you himself. Breakfast was brought to you directly, as you remained bed bound resting and recuperating.

"Now it's Daddy's turn to take care of his princess. Just as you took care of me during those dreadful months. My sweet, precious angel never left her Daddy's side, like an obedient, loyal girl. And Daddy will never leave you, okay."

Words had spread like wildfire, as your belly and tits had swollen healthily with a growing babe inside. The maesters to confirm and seal your fate, Aegon and yourself could not have been happier. Despite the relentless, whispering gossip alongside the timid side glances, no one dared to speak against Aegon's decision to marry you lawfully in tradition of your Valyrian customs, otherwise. Blessing the King a long-awaited, hearty male heir, the prophecy his late father often uttered about in his ill, deluded state: Aegon believed the Prince that was Promised, would emerge from his bloodline, thanks to you.

credit for dividers - @/saradika 🤍

199 notes · View notes

arcielee · 1 year

Text

We've Got Everything

Summary: Your boyfriend cannot sleep and looks for some help. Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Word Count: 768 Warnings: Smutty smut, p in v, then fluff. Author’s Note: I am really inspired by the series The Intern by @f4ll-for-you ♥ Like, I loathed Aegon but now I keep writing one shot drabble based on this modern Aegon who is golden retriever after he successfully completes rehab and gets the therapy baby girl desperately needs. This is dedicated to her because her writing inspired this and I just adore you so much. ♥ (Also, thank you for helping me edit your gift. You are too good to me.) It is in the same modern AU from Sigh No More, but can be read as a one-shot. Enjoy! Tags (my Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin

The soft glow of his mobile screen woke you.

Your face was mushed against his shoulder, your mouth open with a bit of drool in the corner, and your arm was draped across his bare abdomen. A soft groan escapes as you shift yourself to pull away and Aegon is quick to set his phone on the nightstand. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers, turning to face you and his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you back. “I couldn’t sleep.”

The bedroom is still dark and you don’t dare to ask for the time. “Looking at a phone screen won’t help you,” you grumble, allowing him to pull you until your head rests on top of his chest.

“Maybe you can help me then,” his tone is playful and he pushes to roll on top of you, settling between your thighs. His soft lips begin to pepper kisses along the junction of your shoulder and to the curve of your neck; goosebumps ripple over your body in response.

Aegon propped himself on his elbows, caging you in, and he began to gently rock against you, still somewhat soft but it rubs against your clothed cunt in a way that blooms warmth in your center.

A soft moan spills from your mouth at the pressure, the warmth beginning to curl in your lower abdomen. Aegon smiles into your neck at the sound. “You are so soft,” he moans, his teeth soft against your flesh and his lips trailing to your chest; his one hand cups your breast and his hot mouth latches, suckling to leave fresh love bites before pulling his head back and he blows softly, your nipple perks in response.

“Aegon,” your voice is low, breathless, and your face warm with his touch, your underwear wet with your arousal.

You love the touch of his hands, the welcome warmth of his palm that follows the curves of your body and pushes into the softness of your hip, his fingers finding the waistband of your underwear and trailing to your center. He pushes the wet fabric aside to line his tip with your entrance and you cant your hips upwards, cradling him to your hips; he is mindful of his thrusts, gentle against you.

Your moans are in tandem with the delicious fill of his cock inside you. Aegon pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his girth and then he rocks into you. Propped on his elbows, your chests are flushed together and he groans, his head pressing into your neck and his hot exhale eliciting new goosebumps all over you.

He paces himself, in rhythm with the sweet sounds that spill from your lips until you feel the flutter of your cunt, the first waves of pleasure. Your nails bite into the dimples of his backside and you whisper, “Aegon, please.”

He is at your command, his hips snapping against you and the suction of your wet warmth clenches with your climax. His groan is low, baritone in comparison to your mewls, and you can feel the twitch of his cock with his release. Aegon melts against you, his arms caged around and his lips touching your collarbone; you feel him soften but he remains inside of you and everything is perfect in that moment.

Your skin prickles with his exhale. “That is exactly what I needed,” he murmurs against your throat. “Goodnight.”

“Aegon,” you giggle and you can feel him smile again before he pushes up and disappears into the bathroom. You can hear the faucet run for a moment and he eventually returns with a warm washcloth, careful to peel off your wet panties and run the insides of your thighs. You sigh with his touch; he folds it and brings it to just graze your nipples, his soft blow makes them pebble in the morning air.

When he sees you peer at him, his grin is wolfish. “I’m being thorough,” he explains, his eyebrow raised and you giggle again.

The washcloth is put in the dirty clothes hamper and he curls into you. His arms wrap around your waist and you welcome his warmth, the comfort of being flushed against his bare chest. Aegon nestles into your hair and you feel a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.

In the quiet, early hours of the morning, your breathing falls in tandem with his, your exhale with his inhale and vice versa. You begin to slip into the unconscious, lulled to sleep with another gentle kiss to your spine, the whisper of his words, “I love you.”

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #modern aegon #smut and fluff #short and sweet #hotd modern au #aegon targaryen fanfic #exuding tom glynn-carney bf energy #thanks for reading #♥

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storiumemporium · 9 months

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Little Gifts (1/3)

Aegon II Targaryen/Reader

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SINGLE POST FOR ALL THREE SCENARIOS GOD FUCKING DAMMIT—

ahem :)

This is Aegon meeting his babies for the very first time, please enjoy!

| Word Count 6.2k | Angst, Fluff | Childbirth, brief absentee-ism, Aegon has parental issues out the ass, general cuteness at the end |

Gods help Kings’ Landing once Aegon The Elder realizes he’s going to be a father.

It’s a tumultuous time at best, though never one that came directly at your expense. Aegon had never wanted children, he always told you. Bound up in the sheets and in your arms, with cruel platitudes about how they were smelly, messy, foul little creatures. That you already had one of those to deal with, and you didn’t need that one to put another in you.

This, of course, was a lie. And you knew that, you did. Aegon who hates children, yet gives them more patience than any other in the world. Sitting at the steps of the Keep and listening to some Lord’s boy excitedly tell him about a cat he saw prowling about the gardens. Never sparing a mean word, or even so much as a look of boredom. Aegon does not have patience, Aegon does not suffer things that he does not like for anyone save that of his family.

Aegon loves children, Aegon is terrified of them.

You came to the Keep when the Queen Mother herself expressed a desire to wed her son away- initially the ideal had been to have Helaena marry her elder brother, but for some manner of reason the honor had passed down to Prince Aemond. Rumor tapped it’s mousy foot, but it hadn’t been your business and you’d been far too nervous to poke around and find out.

It hadn’t taken you long to realize the dysfunction of the royal family. To see the way the man you were vying to marry would shrink away from his own mother and father, the way he would curl and wilt under their gazes as if he thought he didn’t belong within their memory.

Needless to say, it followed him into his blossoming- handsome adulthood. The knowledge of the brutality of childbirth, of how it rips a woman apart and kills her if she’s not strong enough. The understanding of what comes after for the rest of ones’ life, and the sheer amount of damage you could do to that life if you weren’t equipped for it.

As far as Aegon had been concerned, he would never be equipped for it. He hadn’t even been worthy of love when he was a child. How could he ever be worthy of giving it?

It’s for this that, following your marriage, you do not bear a child for quite some time. A full year of marriage without sight or whisper of a swollen belly that might carry his babes. This was somewhat devastating for you. Not that you held any grudge for Aegon’s fears, for the way you would find him with glistening eyes and wine-slicked lips, every time his mother would bear down upon him about his duties.

No, it was the gossip and whispering. That you were a failed woman and a terrible wife, that perhaps he thought you so ugly that he couldn’t even bear the few minutes it took to spill his seed in your womb. That you were so dull and lifeless that he could not derive pleasure from you. That your womb was simply a wasteland and that you needed to be replaced. Nevermind that you loved him. Nevermind that he loved you. Happiness was of no importance, here.

Aegon held off for as long as he could, but eventually the frightened boy was chased to his end.

Alicent had had enough of him- had made the ultimatum very clear. Put a babe in your womb, or she would find a new bride for him. Had made sure to list off all the eligible young women of higher houses than your own that would gladly throw you out with the rats to share his bed. It’d been a yelling match, it’d been filled with tears on his end and the bitter sort of resoluteness only a woman who herself had children she hadn’t wanted could possess.

It was the very first time Aegon had ever crawled into your marriage bed and had you while he was drunk.

Things did not get better for some time. Aegon drank, and he drank more. He bedded you with none of the love he truly held for you- because it was not his choice to do so, and he fled to his old vices in the deepest pits of the city, skin crawling as if he’d both been the violated and the violator. He could not imagine how it must have made you feel.

Lonely. Lonelier than you’d ever been. Kept awake with the remnants of his heat between your legs and the absence of his person- whether he was in your bed with you or not. Had he ceased to love you? Is the thought of a child so all consuming that you can no longer hold candle to it? Did he flee from you into the night, find the arms of women who would not have their bodies ruined and spirits tempered by motherhood? Did he disgrace you in such ways?

You didn’t know, and you were too terrified to ask. And so you sat and grew with the misery. He drank more and you ate less, withering beneath a relationship that you could not live without, and yet were being destroyed within.

Until one moon turned to another, and another. And you did not bleed.

The Maesters confirmed it easily enough, the babe that surely grew within you— Aegon had done his duty, and your womb had accommodated, you were not barren. But it did not feel like a joy, to learn of this alone, without him holding your hand. To be the one to go and tell him, to have to inform him of what surely must have been his worst nightmare.

You’d started regal, head held high, shoulders squared. You were informing him of his legacy, you were continuing the reign of the Dragons into another generation.

By the time your slippered feet scuffed the threshhold of your shared chambers, you were a little girl with your arms bound around your middle, hunched and ready to cry.

What a pointless struggle you put yourself through, fingers dancing repetitive tangles around the wash-softened silk embroidery of your bodice. You know how this will fare, perhaps- your mind supplies you desperately even as it’s too late- you could simply not tell him, and let him realize when your body has changed too much for it to be hidden?

He’s slack where he sits at the foot of your shared bed, the fabric of his undershirt fine enough that you can see the flush of skin beneath. He’s always been a touch warmer than his siblings— more like his mother, that rosy hue that clung perpetually to her. Perhaps he was most like her in all regard, for you could not imagine any other Targaryen crying with such open and childlike vulnerability as he could.

You wonder if that is what you will receive now. Tears, or rage, or fear? Will he be offended by your decision to tell him? Will you watch those downturned, lovely features warp into something so far and foreign from you. As he has become over the past moons?

And you try, you truly do. You mean to tell him firmly and prescriptively of your state and what to expect in the coming moons. But when your lips part to break the silence, it is anything but.

“I am sorry-!” It must be a half-beg, it must be a whine, it must be the cries of a wounded animal. Afraid and in pain. The kind that would gnaw itself to bone to survive. You wish to gnaw out your own womb with teeth not suited.

His head jerks then, startled. But you can’t see it, your gaze refuses to witness a thing past the torrent that crowds around your lashes and spews over your eyes. A relentless wave of grief futilely smothered by the way your soft palm pinches angrily around your mouth. Like it was a physical thing to be held, like it hadn’t already begun to drown the air. Humid with pain.

And it is for this— swaddled in the no no no no this is all wrong it’s wrong it’s bad no- that you do not, cannot see Aegon rise. It is for this that you are nearly taken clean off your feet by the sheer force with which his frame collides against yours, held solely by his iron-like grip.

But you don’t question it, the hand at your belly and the hand at your mouth flee to him. Dig in tightly enough to sting through the cloth that separates your nails from his direct skin. You’re clawing at him, scratching violent red ribbons into that peach skin that clings across his shoulders and back. If you’re truly hurting him, if he’s noticing it at all, he makes not a sound, says not a word to it.

“Husband, please..! I am- am afraid, I do not want to be alone. I cannot- I cannot be-” anymore. You couldn’t be alone anymore. Because you had been. You are. He’d abandoned you.

And he knows it, knows it so violently that tears spring to his own eyes. He can’t wrap himself around you as tightly as you dig into him- the cognizant and horribly numb parts of his pysche supply him with an offensively dull you would hurt the babe if you did. That his mind offers this with such simplicity doesn’t prevent the horrible shudder that crests his body. The gooseflesh that forms.

What a horrible, terrible creature he’s been. Typical, but inexcusable.

“Shh, shh…” He tries, weakly. An attempt to balm you while he scrambles to put together the right words to comfort. He knows what he needs to say, he just doesn’t wish to lie. Aegon needs to know that if he tells you this, he will mean it. What he has already done is a heartbreak, enough. But it holds nothing to the weight of a broken promise. “I will not leave you, do you hear me? Never again. The wine will go, the taverns will go, the fights will go. I will be here. I am here.”

It was easy, it was so effortless to pull you to the bed. To lay you curled and fetal beside him as he bound himself to you once more. The door was ajar, enough so that overly nosy servants and guards alike could see the young royals tucked among the pillows, could see the large hand trailing delicate paths over even more fragile features. Soothing and rhythmic motions until a crumpled and upset face turned to something neutral, nearly sleeping.

He would not promise you that he would be perfect, that he would be able to love and cherish the way you deserved. But he would be there. He would be there. You would not be alone. He would never abandon you again.

And he held true to his word. Aegon becomes a constant at your side, perhaps more than you even anticipated. He follows you to learn everything from the wetnurses and Maesters. He follows you to the gardens, he asks you how you feel. He keeps a rigorous, near paranoid grip of your health and mental state.

First you find it confusing, but not unpleasant. You find that just as quickly as you’ve come up with child, Aegon has put aside the things that kept him away from you. Curled into bed and talking to you in rasping, warm tones. Kissing your fingers and nose and lips. And even, when he thought you asleep, trailing a shaking hand over your belly- still too early on to show in any real way.

Then you understand, and it becomes tragic. Aegon knew the stories of Aemma Targaryen, his father’s first wife. At least in rumor if not in direct. And he knew of Alicent’s horrors, as he had been the cause of many of them. He stares at your growing belly over the moons, and he grows paler and paler with the sight of it. Sickened by it. Terrified. Of them, and for you. He fears that you will die, and he fears that he will be the one made to take your life. Even if it’s not him doing it, then giving the order to insistent, heartless Maesters.

This fear increases threefold when the Maesters proclaim that there cannot possibly be a single child within your fertile womb. That you grow too large and too fast. Twins, it could only be.

Aegon sits up that night, with you sound asleep beside him, and he stares into the dark with absolute certainty that he has murdered you. That he marches you to your grave faithfully, now. How it is he is expected to live with it, he doesn’t know.

Nightmares plague him, shakes assail him, his appetite vanishes. You must coax food and drink into him just as Aegon must beg you to take things easily. To let him help you around, to not take so many stairs, to gentle yourself.

He sleeps less, too. And you find yourself kneading puffy cheeks in your palms and caressing reddened eyes as you coo at him and push him to bed. Watching over him like you might- some day soon- your own children.

Eventually however, too soon, much too soon, you head into your labors and Aegon feels the most helpless he ever has. You go to a war that he cannot fight in, and all he can do is sit witness to whether or not you live or- or-

Uselessness should be a thing as natural to Aegon as sleeping. All his life it has been of abundant clarity that his importance was simply in function and name, and not what he- the person- could do. It was not about him, only his blood, his title, the cock between his legs.

It should have been something he’d resigned himself to. But watching you lay there, screaming with tears and sweat trailing down your face- no, he wasn’t so resigned after all. It bit at his bones and made some burning rash crawl it’s pestilent fingers up his clammy back. His hand had long gone numb in your grip, squeezed until nails dug savagely into the places between his bones. It was all he had to offer, his hand, his useless words, the cloth which he gently used to wipe away your sweat.

Even that, they had tried to deny him. Even that. As if he were so Gods-be-damned useless that he couldn’t keep the sweat from your eyes.

“Mm… Aeg..?” Your voice is under a current, being pinched and stretched by your exhastion. You’d been fighting for so long now.

“Yes, ladybug?”

“Could eat an entire pig, right now.”

It makes a bittersweet joy touch Aegon’s cheeks. His smile curves bright and wide, teeth glittering in the afternoon sun, but his lips are trembling and his eyes are glassy. You’re only half there, he’s sure of it, skin glistening and eyes lidded as you stare both at and through him. “I’m sure, love. Been wrestling with a pair of stubborn dragons all day, haven’t you? Once you’re done, I’ll go to the kitchens myself, whip up a frenzy. Everything you could want, okay?

All you need to do is stay here, with me.” Please, please. For the love of the Old Gods and the New. Stay. Don’t let me be what took you.

His hand, the one not clasped relentlessly within yours, brushes at your forehead and at your hair. Tugging strands away with a sort of histrionic worry that maybe they were making you uncomfortable by clinging to your face like that. He didn’t want you to be any more uncomfortable than you were. In fact, how terrible must the sheets feel on your skin? The nightgown they force you to remain in even as your body rips itself apart to create life?

You should be naked, bare on something soft but firm so that it wouldn’t cling to your skin. There is no shame in a man being rendered completely bare so that his war wounds can be tended to, and yet they will not offer you the dignity of the same treatment? Unfair, cruel- you should be allowed to breathe—

His hand practically creaks like settled oak when you start to vice around him again. It’s not fully there yet, simply a pained whimper, but your vision is sharpening by it. You’re forced back to the forefront by cruelty, and Aegon can only give some sort of childish look of sympathy and regret, forehead lowering to touch yours.

“Don’t know how much further I can go, Aegon…” You say, submerging Aegon into a cold that would make even the bitter North curl just a touch deeper into their furs.

“No, no. Don’t you say that, listen to me. Listen… I know it’s beginning to hurt again-” a sentiment unfortunately punctuated by the shriller, louder pained cry that starts to trickle out from your heaving chest. “-But I know you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever seen. So you’re going to do this, do you hear me? You’re going to bear two beautiful, healthy children, and you’re going to be fine, and you’re going to eat an entire fucking pig. You hear me? Hm?”

He doesn’t hear the words murmuring out and around him from the midwives and the Maester. He doesn’t know that the pain is cresting because one of the children is coming- he doesn’t know. All he knows is that you’re looking at him now, and you look pleading. You remind him of a frightened little girl, seeking out the comfort of someone bigger and safer during a storm. Aegon leans over you allows his cheek to find your head and his weight to join yours in sheltering. Instinctual, without particular rhyme or reason, but he’s rewarded for the thought with the touch of your nose against him. Tucking down even as you scream louder than you have at any other moment since this began in the early hours of the morning.

Then-

Oh—?

A cry, so fragile and gentle and quiet breaks the air. It’s so tiny, and all of the skin and hair across his entire body raises at the sound of it. It’s so small, and yet the roaring in Aegon’s ears would tell him that the Keep is falling apart around him. That the sea is drying, that Harrenhal is crumbling, that the Wall is melting.

It meant nothing to him, in all the years he heard familiar cries like that. It meant anxiety, it meant help, where is an elder!? It meant another day that I’m just a failure, it meant looming dread.

A babe’s cry meant nothing to Aegon. His babe’s cry nearly pulls him away from you, nearly has him crumpling broken and limp against the red brick and mortar beneath his feet. He could simply lie there, could curl fetally and stare blankly beneath his bed into the vacuous and yawning nothingness that you lay fighting for your life above. The very sound could eradicate him without effort.

He’s scared, suddenly. Oh, oh Gods. Aegon wants his mother, he wants Alicent to hold him, he wants the reassurances now. He’s afraid, he’s terrified. What if he gets it wrong? What if he drops the babe? What if he forgets, or is clumsy, or reckless, or just plain bad? No one ever taught him how to love innocence.

“My Prince!” A sharp voice calls him out of a complete blank state, he jolts as if slapped, eyes wide and doe-like when he settles upon his caller. A stout, ruddy cheeked woman with kindness seemingly built into the very lines and freckles of her face. “She’s doing well, Prince Aegon. Just one more to go, okay? Think you can convince her?”

There’s something lined in this woman’s ale colored eyes, made more vivid by the light. It’s a hint, it’s the gentlest way he’s ever had someone coax him to get his shit together and focus. A nudge rather than a slap. It’s a sweet boy, remember what’s happening rather than a stupid mutt, a useless grandchild who sees nothing more than his cups.

So he turns back to you, to the way your head lulls slightly under his motions, and the way you seem almost absent from your own flesh. It scares him all over again, not that he needed the reminder- mostly that Aegon is the fly caught between two palms now. The clap so loud to his tiny frame that it should shake the teeth right out of him.

“Ladybug… Sweet love, look at me? Look,” he whispers with love, touches your chin with index and middle fingers to pull you toward him again. “You already did it, see? I told you. You’ve only got one left, should be much quicker now that their older—”

It occurs to him that he doesn’t know if he just had a son or a daughter, and when he swallows around that information his jaw trembles. “—Their older sibling made way, yes? So that’s it, this is it. You’re okay, you’re amazing. Just one more, then I’ll get to bringing an entire roast pig in here for you.”

You manage him a smile for your husband. Looking up at him and recognizing in all the ways that Aegon looks utterly petrified by this. You’re still not entirely sure about survival, the pain remains, and the sudden absence of something that had become so intrinsic to your body. The way it’s as if they’re taking pieces of you with them, stealing at your soul to fuel their own. You find that you don’t mind it, and yet when you blink you see silver and starlight rather than the typical blank darkness of your eyelids.

But he’s scared, and he’s making you all sorts of sweet Aegon promises, and you know you cannot allow this to happen- for him, yes. For the broken man you’d leave behind, for the beautiful boy you always loved to see smile and don’t think ever would again. But also for the children, the children who would have no parents. For the cycle that would repeat, with a bitter man too hurt to look at his own children and love them, because he’d see you there.

You know this, you know him, and you scream with what little ferocity you have left before they even call for you to do so.

Aegon finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, swaying as if he means to rock you- or himself, he’s unsure in that regard. You’re still heaving, still fighting, you’re clawing into his forearm until- much to his mild impress and great worry, droplets of life are pooling out and cascading over the softness of his flesh.

“Little bit longer, Princess!” The same kind faced, warm hearted woman says loudly over your noises of protest and suffering. “An eager one, this! Doesn’t want to be too far behind their sister, eh?”

Sister. The word almost lacks meaning in the fabric of his mind. Sister. He has a daughter, then. A baby girl, a sweet little thing. No wonder her cry was so soft and so devastating. He can feel his spine attempting to break free, he’s sure of it. That is the only way he could possibly comprehend the sensation of the entire length of bone vibrating and trembling violently beneath a thin layer of skin and sinew. Yes, his body is like that of a mayfly, he has helped- however futilely- to bring life and now life he escapes.

“Once more, Princess.” Her voice comes again, and Aegon finds himself looking at her hovering between your legs. He must look a sight himself- embarrassing, considering he has no hand in this fight. But he can feel the pressure around his eyes, the sting of his lips from where he’d bitten them bloody and the tears had found their way into the cuts. He tries to prevent this, to not look like a scared child, but the sympathetic pinch that doesn’t leave as the woman looks between you and him is enough for him to know he’s failed.

“Okay… Okay…” You’re convincing yourself of it, nodding even with the slight resistance from Aegon’s plush cheek. It’s as if you’re being coaxed to do something frightening to you- like when he first introduced you to Sunfyre. Your voice soft, assuring yourself as you pressed on with him. That it would be fine, because he would never let you get hurt, would he?

So he does the same thing to you now that he did then.

“My pretty Princess…” He whispers, rasping and thick. Aegon is your ferryman, you decide in delirium. He’s cut through the fog just as quick, effortless like a lantern in the night. “There’s no need to be afraid… You hear me? I’m right here, I’m right by your side, see?”

His hand threads through yours once again, clammy and hot from nervousness while he rubs soothing patterns.

“Just a little bit more.” Just a couple more steps.

“Then you’re done.” Then you can pet him. Ride with me? See the skies? All that… Targaryen goodness we like to tout so much.

What he hadn’t told you, and you’d already known anyways, was that he was asking permission to love you. It was the first time he’d kissed you, up there. Far away from the city and expectation. That’d been the point. Your first kiss deserved to be Aegon. Not Prince Aegon. Just him.

You screech out a horrible noise, grinding sand and sharp cobbles ripping up and down your throat before it waters down into a sob- Aegon can offer nothing but a sort of hiccupping gasp, an almost panic at the noise that splits the stone and races out of the windows thrown open. Were you dying? Was this going to be it?

A shape now, pulled free quickly and cut away from the mother- from you- just as quick. There’s a certain urgency there, to the way they move. They’re not celebrating or offering to let him see- not yet, no. And it increases his terror twofold, does nothing to soothe the burgeoning feeling that someone is about to die. So he lifts, eyes darting around at people far older and more experienced than himself. He asks no questions because he cannot find his voice, has not even seen the faces of his children yet in the flurry.

The silence is deafening, he can make out a pale foot, a pale arm, the gentle tap tap of someone patting at their flesh.

Finally, a soft, even quieter squeak.

“Congratulations,” you’re both addressed in turn by the rosy woman who turns- a tiny- so fucking tiny- bundle she swaddles in her arms as she approaches. “Two more, lovely Princesses for the Keep.”

His ears are ringing.

The babe- his babe, already shows the wicks of his pale locks, still too fine and short to know whether they’d curl or lay flat like their uncle. The face is a little redder than he’d anticipated, with a tiny swooping nose and a gently parted mouth. Her little eyes are closed, she must be so tired coming into the world like this, shouldn’t she?

He looks down at you then, and feels his heart leap into his throat to see you’re already looking at him. Your eyes are half lidded, but the smile there is nothing short of love. You look at him like it’s been years since you last touched, or like he placed the sun in the sky.

“We’re… we’re parents…” You manage, softly. You must be so tired, making someone else come into the world. Gods, you must be on the brink of sleep. You need sleep. You-

“We are,” he whimpers. You see the tears starting to pour. He looks afraid, yes. But you’d expected that. In fact, you didn’t expect this level of acceptance from him. You’d expected him to be in the corner with his knuckles in his teeth. For him to shy away from the bundle before you two, the other being brought back into the room somewhere beyond your fuzzy vision. “They’re so small, love.”

Aegon’s shape shadows yours, you can feel his heavy arms beneath your sweating frame like the great chains of a drawbridge, pulling you against him. It’s temporary, just so that he can slide you over, cooing something about how sweaty and warm where you were just laying must have been. And it’s true, but the pain and discomfort feels detached and distant, like you’re watching a play rather than living it in the moment.

And then he’s beside you, his body pressed all along yours. And the midwives are moving closer.

“She’ll need ample rest, you hear?” Someone says in the distance, your eyes slide off faces like water down the side of a cliff. But you can feel his humming affirmations, the vibrations make staying aware even harder, heavier. “Hard enough to bring one into the world, but she’s blessed you with two, my Prince.

No moving around without someone to keep watch. No awkward positions. And no getting any ideas with her for at least a turn of the moon. You hear?”

Aegon is painted in shades of crimson, but he nods along like some small child being given their first ‘grown up’ task. He wouldn’t fuck this up. He couldn’t. It would be dangerous if he did.

“She will recover, my Prince. I suggest you enjoy now the fruits of her labor.”

One is much smaller than the other, Aegon realizes. He’s not sure why he’s completely taken aback by it. Children didn’t all start out the same, nor did they end up the same either. He was much bigger than Aemond once upon a time. But this feels different.

His first born, she’s a bit of a fat one if he’s honest. He doesn’t know if a babe can even be such. But she is, a big round face and big round feet and meaty little fists. She’s wriggling and energetic, he realizes. Rowdy, even.

“Hello there,” he says quietly, awkwardly. He’s not sure how to do this part. He’s not sure he understands anything, anymore. His whole life feels as if it’s been taken aside and smashed with hammers. But it’s not so unpleasant anymore. It doesn’t feel like death, or the end. There’s sudden opportunity… Almost an excitement. For nothing else if not to see what these little babes grow into. He hopes they look more like you than him, even with the danger that poses.

“You gave your mother quite some trouble, do you know that?” The babe in his arms makes a creaky little noise, and he nervously shifts her around. How does one… adjust a baby without hurting it? “Yes, you did. I’m sure of it, you’re the one that kept putting your foot in her ribs. Aren’t you? You’d make her fight you all day, you ornery little thing.

But my… Aren’t you pretty.” She is, he’s decided already. She’ll be the prettiest thing in all the Kingdoms, the only competition will be the tiny little bundle settled in your arms.

She’s the opposite, so tiny that it frightens him. Face is redder, and much much quieter. But the Maester looked the babe over and said that she would likely simply be a small child. A quiet one. He was glad of that, though. He could handle the rowdy little beast in his arms. Could take on the challenge, you deserved a quiet little mousy thing. One that he can imagine now with such clarity that a wet smile curves his lips.

Fingers clinging to your skirts, and little eyes peeking around a leg. Quiet embroidery lessons where you teach her all your techniques. Blissful little strolls through the gardens with her.

Meanwhile, Aegon suspects this one will be chewing on his ankles in the night.

You’re watching him, and it’s a sort of relief you can’t describe. It makes you want to sob, to break down into hysterical tears at the sight. He’s smiling down at your daughter, your daughter! Bouncing her ever so gently and laughing in that fond timbre that ceaselessly gives you chills. The babe is still too young to move much, but she gurgles and makes all sorts of little noises that Aegon gasps at and reponds to in kind. You’re sure they’re holding some sort of conversation without you. Deciding what mischief they’ll get into together once she’s older.

Meanwhile the little one sitting in your arms just continues to rest. You brush the very tip of your finger against her nose, feel a foot wiggle. Hm, just like her father, then. You hope she gets his nose, that endearing little swoop that you love to kiss. Maybe his eyes too, the weapons that they would be in the hands of a woman.

“We did it,” you finally say. Your voice has come back to you slightly, exchanging the babes in an awkward fumble of limbs and embarrassed little laughs some time prior. You had remained floating in a bit of shock, head slouched against his shoulder as you waited out the minutes until things went horrifically wrong.

But now, with the sun hissing into the windows as it continues it’s trek across the sky, you realize that this is it. It’s okay. It’s over. You’d survived, and they’d survived. You have daughters now. Daughters and a husband who so clearly loves them with all his being.

Aegon had giggled like a little boy until his eyes and nose scrunched up while he held the larger of your daughters, had rocked her back and forth and whispered all sort of nonsense into her ear almost assuredly more for your own benefit than that of the child. Anything to make you giggle, to hear you have joy after it all.

But the moment your little star settled into his arms? Oh, he’d melted. You’d watched the way the joy, but also the pain, and the fear, and the anxiety melted off of him. He looked in awe. He’d not even been able to glance away from his littlest as he’d told you with such reverence she’s so small.

“You did,” he eventually says. His voice is nearly a whisper. They’re sleeping now, soundly and peacefully like little pieces of divine will cast upon the soil. “Look at them. Look what you did, ladybug… They’re perfect. You’ve created perfection.”

It’s hard not to giggle at his antics. “Aegon, my love… They’re yours too, you had just as much a hand—”

“But I didn’t, not really.” He shakes his head with conviction as he says it. Looking only briefly apologetic for running right over you with his words. “I- I bedded you, in the coldest way I could have. And I ran from you. And I left you alone while your body willed itself to create… this. Them. Our beautiful little Princesses. I only came back because you had to beg me. Your own husband, to stay.

No I- …I truly did nothing, here. I failed you, I think I did even when I promised to never leave you again. But the truth remains the same. I got to run away, you didn’t. You weren’t given a choice to run. This is yours. They are perfect because of you.”

You look away when the tears begin to drip off your chin, willing them not to dot your child and wake her. You’re not sure you’re ready for that stage. You want to see them sleep for just a touch longer.

“It was… hard… Aegon…” You concede this part to him, because it does no good to lie about the lonely nights of weeping and fear. “But I want you to know something…

It all went away the moment I saw you smile at them.”

It’s true, it did. You hold not a single reservation for the man beside you. You’ve always known him to have the heart and the will to love the way a good father should, you just never knew if he would give himself the chance.

He will, you think. You can already picture with heartfelt clarity what your near future will look like. The image of a head of white hair chasing a squealing little figure across the gardens. You can see yourself beneath the veranda, surrounded by vines and enjoying some sort of confection while you watch your whole world before you. You can hear the screeching laughter of a daughter tossed in the air, caught faithfully in strong arms. Laughter, so much laughter.

“I love them,” he says softly. Disbelieving of himself. “I love you.”

The hand not preoccupied with a sleeping bundle finds Aegon’s face, heart squeezing tenderly at the way his face drops into your palm so readily.

“My husband, father of my children…” Your finger traces the swoop of his nose, and you giggle when you see one of his feet squirm.

“I love you, in spite of nothing and with all my heart.”

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written-in-flowers · 1 year

Text

Nameday: The Theatre

Pairing: Aegon II x plussize!fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word Count: 6k

Summary: It is your nameday, and Aegon has planned a special day for you both. The next stop on your trip is the Hill Theatre, where a special play is being performed. Unfortunately for you, the theatre hosts some unexpected guests: your mothers.

Tags: None for this part, really. Aegon still being unapologetically in love and obsessed with you. Perhaps some nervousness/anxiety/self-conscious issues?

Tagged: @f4ll-for-you @prettyblondguys

Previous chapter: Nameday: The Picnic

Next Chapter: Nameday: Madam Rosetta’s

****

He’d not lied about having a day planned for you both. When you arrived back in the Dragonpit, you thought you’d return to the Red Keep You truthfully had no desire to run back in a hurry. It felt nice being away from court and the rats lurking about. Though, you knew your parents and sisters must be expecting you soon. They’d arrived in King’s Landing early yesterday morning, and you’d spent plenty of time with them since then. It would not hurt to be out of their company for a bit longer.

Walking out of the Dragonpit, arm-in-arm with Aegon, you saw the carriage awaiting you down the steps. Outside it on his horse sat Ser Erryck, no doubt told to follow Aegon and you for safety. You didn’t know if you liked being followed so closely. Not because you dislike Ser Erryk, but because people talk. People say things without thinking beforehand or it slips out in conversation. Kingsguard knights are meant to keep their king’s secrets, but how true are those vows to stay when it comes to scandals such as this?

“I trust you had a good flight, Your Grace,” the knight said as you both approached him.

“Yes, a very good one,” Aegon smiled, far too amused by the question. “The Princess truly enjoyed herself. Did you not, love?”

“I did,” you nodded, doing your best to maintain a certain formal distance.

Aegon was having none of it. He kissed your cheek, then opened the carriage door.

Bringing you into his arms, Aegon pressed you to the opposite corner of the carriage, half laying you down against the cushions as he kissed you. You relished in the warmth of his petal lips. After weeks of not having him, you clung to every bit he gave to you. You could not bring yourself to feel shame or embarrassment; your pride refused to let you. In his arms, you are not an ugly, fat creature undeserving of love. You are worthy and truly loved and worshiped. Aegon’s hands groped at your stomach, sliding between the folds of your torso and hips to grab your bottom. You chuckled as he gripped what he could grab, massaging the supple cheeks despite his hand barely covering them.

“Was the cliff not enough?” you asked him, as he kissed the tops of your breasts on the neckline.

“Not nearly,” he muffled, capturing your lips once more. “I want this,” he said, emphasizing the phrase by squeezing your ass, “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the last time.”

You dared to look away in shyness. Aegon only entered through there once, both of you drunk and blinded by lustful passion. It’d hurt for a moment or two, but he’d been gentle and careful throughout. It felt ten times better when he touched your clit at the same time. The mere thought of the act itself aroused you. Yet, he has not asked again until today.

“Perhaps later, love,” you said when he broke away from you. “We should pace ourselves.” You glanced out the window to see you leaving The Hill of Rhaenys and turning into the street. However, you realized the carriage did not go towards The Keep. “Where are we going?”

“My favorite place in the entire city,” he said, pecking your lips.

“The Street of Silk?” you teased.

“No, my other favorite place,” he laughed, pulling you to his side and kissing you once more. “Mummer’s Alley.”

“Mummer’s Alley?” you raised an eyebrow in question. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s exactly as it sounds,” he told you. “All the best performers work there. It is left at the Hill of Rhaenys, and runs down to Hill Square. I think you’ll like it there. The Hill Theatre is there.”

“There’s a theatre? In King’s Landing?”

“It is a small one, but I assure you their plays are marvelous. You’ll really enjoy them,” he then smiled, “I commissioned their playwright to write something new. They're performing it today.”

“I cannot wait,” you grinned.

His efforts for today touched you. Nobody ever went to such lengths to make you happy. Your family did when you’d been younger, but as time went on the celebrations became meager and short. You pulled him back to you and kissed him deeply. Perhaps you’ll let him take you from behind. You enjoyed spoiling him as much as he enjoyed spoiling you. The two of you continued chatting and kissing as the crowds outside became louder. The sounds of singers strumming their instruments wavered over busy, bustling crowds. When the carriage stopped, Aegon peeked outside the window.

“Good, they haven’t started yet.”

You heard a herald’s voice from somewhere in the distance as Aegon helped you out of the carriage. In front of you stood a wooden, circular building at the end of the cobbled street. Above the tall doors someone painted a long dragon with red, blue, and white scales. A flood of people herded through the main entrance while a short, portly man stood on a crate right by the door.

“-Today’s performance is for one day, and one day only! The newest play by our beloved playwright, Moondrop! The Tragedy of Raelor and Maelis! A romance of the most tragic kind! Come, come, my friends and neighbors, and see a love to rival the Old King and his Good Queen! Plot, treason, and passion is to be had! Floor admission is only a copper! Come, come, and enjoy!”

“Moondrop? Who is that?” you asked, wrapping your arm around Aegon’s as you stepped forward.

“A very popular playwright,” he answered. “They’re an absolute genius, a true wordsmith. My mother’s very fond of their works. She requests them and their troupe for every celebratory event.” He glanced over at you, “You’ll love it.”

He walked by a hunched man holding a wooden box with copper and gold coins. The moment he saw Aegon, he bowed his head.

“My King,” he said in a quavering voice. “We’re honored to have you and Princess Y/N with us today.”

“Balcony seats?”

“Five dragons.”

Aegon reached into his coin purse and dropped the amount into the box. The collector bowed his head, then gestured for them to enter. The herald then spoke again:

“Make way for King Aegon of House Targaryen, Second of His Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm! Make way!”

The crowd parted and dropped their heads, letting you and Aegon pass to the balcony seats above. Dozens stood on the ground floor, a variety of people watching the stage and waiting. You noted other nobles amongst the audience on the higher levels, though did you best to not get their attention. Of course, with Aegon’s presence being announced, all eyes flitted towards you. You noticed two ladies from court recognize you, and begin whispering. Another lord eyed you both closely, huffing and turning away when you caught him looking. Could you find no escape from them?

Aegon led you to a box on the left side of the stage, two cushioned chairs and a small table waiting for you. On the wooden stage, the theater group painted the set like a castle banquet hall. Finely detailed, you already imagined the sort of show you’d both see. Aegon paid a small boy for two cups of ale, one of which he passed to you. You declined the drink, not wanting a fuzzy head from the wine already in your system. Gazing around at the balcony crowd, your entire body froze in panic. You reached for Aegon’s wrist when he moved to drink his ale.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Our mothers are here.”

There they sat in a private box across from yours. Two body guards stood a few feet back, with their ladies-in-waiting behind them. You gasped when you spotted your sisters in the next box over, talking with each other as they waited. You wanted to run and hide. You prayed neither of them ever noticed you, but the gods do not favor the unfaithful. Queen Alicent scanned the crowd, smiling softly with excitement while talking with your mother. You never knew Alicent to leave The Keep; your mother certainly stuck to the castle back home. They preferred seamstresses, tailors, shoemakers, jewelers and performers coming to them instead of them going out. Their sudden appearance in this public place made your nerves cluster in your stomach. All the food and wine you'd drunk threatened to come up again. Ladies of court are one thing; your mothers are another.

“Maybe we should go,” you suggested. “We can, um, see this-”

“-We are not going,” he said firmly, taking your hand in his. “I will not let them ruin your special day. This is about you and I. Not them. Not those stuffy ladies and lords at court. Please, dearest of loves, leave them behind and enjoy the play.” He pecked your lips, and pushed a cup of ale towards you.

You considered Queen Alicent and your mother will be so engrossed in the play that they’ll never see either of you. Yet, your wandering eyes alerted your mother who then locked eyes with you. You tensed in your seat. She must be so appalled by this gross display by you and Aegon. Being together like this only confirms the rumors and suspicions surrounding you. Your mother looked between you and Aegon, then scrunched her nose at you. You winced, gripping the sides of your seat and nodded slowly. She bit her bottom lip, and you gulped. Her fiery eyes told you she’d never expected this of you. She nudged Alicent, who then looked at you. Alicent gazed at you in surprise. Her eyes shifted around to the people around the room, and raised her eyebrows. You grimaced, shrugged, and nodded to Aegon. The queen pursed her lips, then sighed, shoulders dropping. She turned to your mother, and you saw them both exchanging words. You could not tell what they were saying, but it certainly involved you and the King. Finally, both women turned to you. Aegon was the king. Who was going to tell him what he could and could not do? Alicent nodded gently in understanding right as music began playing from behind the stage.

Your mother may have compassion, but not at this moment. You cowered underneath her hard stare. She kept her eyes on you even as the audience cheered. You chewed on your lower lip, begging for forgiveness from her. You shifted your eyes to Aegon and shrugged. Soon enough, the coldness melted and your mother huffed. Putting her hand to her mouth, she blew you a kiss and smiled softly. This eased your anxieties, but not by much.

In the next box, you saw four pairs of eyes staring right at you. Your sisters, slender beauties with thick black hair, turned to one another in disbelief, then back to you. Cassandra, the eldest, pointed between you and Aegon until you confirmed it. Maris, the second eldest, stifled back a laugh and looked away. Ellyn and Floris, the youngest daughters, made kissing faces at you. The embarrassment made you turn your head.

“Aegon-”

“-Ignore them, sweetness,” he said, kissing your hand and rubbing it for you. This made your sisters squeal over the music, and your cheeks burned. “I wish for you to enjoy yourself today.”

The show started with a petite boy in a jester’s costume of red and black, back flipping his way onto the stage and dropping in the front center. The applause rang throughout the room, only ceasing when the boy held up his hands.

“Two houses!” the jester called out, his high voice going throughout the room, “Both alike in pride, in fair King’s Landing, where we lay our scene. From ancient blood flows into new unity, where bastards become lords and conquerors become kings. From forth the loins of these two subjects, a pair of star-crossed lovers find one another. The passionate path of their unyielding love through the continuance of a raging war, to which but the kinslayer’s end, may never come to root. ‘Tis now the two-hours traffic of our stage,” he bent forward, whispering loudly to the audience, “The which, you with patient ears attend, what here you shall miss, our toils might strive to mend!”

“A tragedy?” You told Aegon, surprised. “I would’ve thought you’d commission a comedy.”

“You always favor the tragedies,” he explained, leaning to your ear, “So I went to the playwright who writes the best ones. Thankfully, Moondrop’s muse inspires him greatly. I don’t blame him, though. My own muse makes me want to write dozens of songs about her love and beauty.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Being King takes up a lot of my time these days,” he said. “Now, pay attention.”

Out of the right side of the stage came two men dressed in yellow and black cloaks, the stag of House Baratheon on their chests. “Thaddeus, on my word we shall see this through! We will not let them humiliate us or our lady!”

“No, for then we shall be fools!”

“Prince Daemar marries the daughter of our liege lord! We will not let the dragons ruin our day!”

As the scene rolled on, you realized exactly what was happening. It was your wedding day. Well, it was Lady Maelis’s wedding day. According to the two men, she was marrying the “one-eyed dragon” and meeting his family, whom they hoped did not make a fool of her. During a wedding feast, young Lady Maelis comes upon King Raelor, whom she’d never met before. They’re immediately charmed with one another.

“-Did my heart love until now? I swear it at first sight,” the handsome silver-haired youth speaks softly in amazement, “For I have never seen true beauty ‘till this night.”

Raelor follows Maelis around the stage through a floor of dancers, the both of them catching each other’s eyes. Lady Maelis is dancing with her new husband, Prince Daemar, who repeatedly moves her away when Raelor reaches them. He was a lanky man in a silver wig, wearing a large fake nose, and an eye patch; nobody doubted who he was meant to be. When Raelor manages to steal Maelis away to the front left corner of the stage, he speaks to her with a sly smile.

“If I dare say to you in this crowded place,” he said to her, cupping her chin, “I am ready to commit the ultimate sin for a tender kiss.”

You smiled to yourself, leaning on the railing to watch them closely. Aegon approached you in a similar way on your wedding night. He’d cornered you, flirtatious eyes gazing over your face, and told you that he'd slay a dozen men for a simple kiss. You’d denied him, of course. But, in the play version, Lady Maelis flirted back, coyly replying to his request. With a bit more talking and dodging Lady Maelis’s annoyed husband, they suddenly kiss on the other side of the stage. It’s passionate, soft and makes the women in the audience swoon.

“I wanted to kiss you that night,” Aegon confessed in your ear. "From the moment I first saw you, it was all I wanted."

"I believe you planned on more than kissing me," you said, mocking pensiveness, "I believe your exact words were, 'If you ever want to know what it is to be truly satisfied, all you need to do is ask.’” You snickered, recalling the moment vividly in your mind.

“And you eventually did,” he remarked, moving closer into your ear. “I’d gladly do it for you again, and again, and again-”

“-Hush.”

The scene changed to one of Lady Maelis on a balcony, overlooking a garden, and speaking to herself. She laments having fallen for The King whilst being married to his brother, and how she wishes Raelor and Daemar switched roles. Raelor, who speaks a monologue about the situation, hides in the bushes to watch her. He loves his brother, but his heart aches to be with Maelis. He knows his brother will not fully give his heart to-

“-One so deserving of love,” said the handsome king. “Oh that she knew she was! I would spend countless days and nights reminding her of that love. Ah, look how she rests her cheek upon her hand. If only I were that hand, so I may touch her cheek. Sweet Lady,” he reveals himself from the bushes, and Maelis jumps startled, “Shall you have me sneaking about my own keep like a common sneak thief? If so, I will gladly steal through the night to be at your side for a mere minute.”

It was a romance scene. Raelor proclaims his love, and Maelis is hesitant but her affections for him are clear. You thoroughly enjoyed the first half. But, the audience ate up every word. They gasped loudly when Daemar slapped Maelis across the face at her refusal to bed him. The crowd booed and jeered when it’s implied he assaulted her, and him being generally cruel towards her in front of company. They hooted when Raelor and Maelis finally gave into their feelings, the scene romantic and passionate, with both of them vowing to love each other in life and in death. But, that was not the part of the play that shocked you or the crowd the most.

Daemar and Raelor talked strategy in a war room, standing on opposite sides of the table. When King Raelor leaves, Prince Daemar reveals his true intentions. He plans to win the war for his brother, only to kill him and take his rightful place as King. The crowd hissed at him, but he gave them a malicious grin. The Aemond you’d known would never betray his brother, regardless of what transpires between them. Prince Daemar, however, schemes and lies to his brother, who is seen as a man of the smallfolk and speaks on their behalf. You slowly realized what was happening.

"This Moondrop character is quite bold," you said to Aegon during an intermission. "To depict a prince in such a bad light."

"I suppose they did it to gain sympathy for the two lovers," he put his hand on your knee assuringly. "Nobody would root for them if Prince Daemar treated Lady Maelis properly." He scooted his chair closer to you, "They might see King Raelor as the villain for taking another man's wife."

"But-”

“-Your Grace, what a surprise to see you here.” Cassandra and your sisters appeared beside you both. She stood in the forefront, hands clasped in front of her and a knowing smirk on her face. “None of us ever took you for an art lover.”

“I’m actually a staunch patron of the arts,” Aegon replied, standing to meet them. “Something your sister knows well. If you’ll excuse me, I must fetch more ale and speak with my mother.” He kissed the top of your head, then walked by them.

The moment he left, your sister converged on you. They surrounded you closely, sitting around you now that the man left.

“The rumors are true, then?” Cassandra asked in surprise. “You and the King?”

You gazed at each of them, seeing their intrigued faces, and said, “Yes. It is true.”

They gasped together, and shared a glance before Cassandra said, “When? Where? Why? Did Mother and Father put you up to it? Did he force himself on you?”

“No, no, no. It was nothing like that.”

You told them the short version of the story. Maris glared when you recounted Aemond’s letters, and cursed him for his deceit. She declared if he’d found you so repulsive, he should’ve married one of them. Floris asked if you would be marrying Aegon now, but Ellyn cut across you to tell her you’re still married to Aemond. Cassandra claimed he could always annul their marriage; your father would never refuse a marriage to The King.

“Does he treat you well?” Maris asked you, her clever eyes serious and reading you. “If he has not, good sister, I will show him what happens to men who hurt our dearest Y/N.”

You smiled at her fierceness, “He treats me very well. He took me riding on Sunfyre, and we had this beautiful picnic by the sea.” They all awed at this, and you continued, “And he’s had this play commissioned for my nameday. The King is truly wonderful to me. He’s cared for me during my time here in the capital; he and I became quite close since, well, that night.” You then asked the question that haunted you, “Did Mother say anything to you?”

“I will not lie,” Cassandra answered. “She was very displeased. I couldn’t hear the whole conversation, but I overheard her telling The Queen that she will put a stop to you two.”

“What did The Queen say?”

“She says that The King will do as he pleases regardless of what anyone says.”

“I think she sees how The King feels about you,” Maris added. “I know I did. I saw how he kept glancing at you when you weren’t looking.”

“How…How does he look at me?”

Maris shrugged, “Like he’s in love with you. How else is he supposed to look at you?”

“Ugh, you’re so unromantic, Maris,” Floris rolled her eyes. “Sister, when King Aegon is next to you, he feels he is exactly where he is meant to be. Standing beside you must give him so much comfort and security in such uncertain and dangerous times. You have always been the sweetest of us all, and I think he’s seen that in you. Everyone believes him to be this drunken fool, but with you, he sees he can be something more than that.”

“Floris the Poet,” Mavis teased, rolling her eyes.

“I believe he truly loves you, Y/N,” she continued. “I remember seeing you with Prince Aemond, and he does not look at you how The King does.”

“Whoever this mistress is,” Maris glared, “I hope she was worth it. What he’s doing is bringing shame upon both our houses. I cannot believe the gall of him. If he were here, I’d-”

“-Peace, Maris,” Cassandra stopped her, “We’re all upset by this. But, that is not what is important.” She turned to you, “What’s important is how Father is going to feel about this.”

“Oh, Seven Hells, not father.”

“He’ll demand an annulment,” Ellyn said. “Ooh, maybe then you’ll get to come home!”

“If not, he’ll send all our men to march upon Harrenhal and he’ll duel Prince Aemond to the death for his daughter’s honor,” Maris responded.

“Excuse me, ladies,” Aegon returned with a cup of ale in his hand. “But, I believe the play is resuming now.”

The four sisters groaned in disappointment, and each kissed cheek before leaving your side. Knowing Cassandra and Maris, they’ll find a way to loosen your tongue more. Certainly, your mother will have words; your father is not a man of words, so you worry what his actions might be. Aegon sat beside you again, sipping from his ale and seeing your anxious expression.

“I spoke with my mother,” he told you, putting the pint down.

“Really?” you exhaled, “And what say she?”

“That I should be ashamed of myself for flaunting my affair with my brother’s wife in public,” he listed. “She said it brings shame upon myself, her, and you. She told me The High Septon will catch wind of this soon, and it may cause strife between House Targaryen and The Faith. Then she hissed something about Aemond, but I’d lost interest by that point.”

“Aegon,” you turned to him, imploringly, “She is right-”

“-I know she is, and I also do not care. This is not the first time I’ve disappointed every single person around me, or made my mother hate me more than she already does-”

“-Your mother does not hate you, Aegon-”

“-Then pray tell, my sweetling, tell me why my mother said I was no son of hers? That no son of hers would ever do something like this? Aemond is guilty of the exact same sin; he is the one who initiated it, but it is me she chooses to chastise. Why, if not for the fact that she’s always favored him over me?” he snapped, anger flaring in his eyes. “I realized on the last night we spent together that it doesn’t matter whether people know or not. I will always disappoint and disgust everyone around me-”

“-Aegon, that is not true-”

“-And with your kind heart, you lie to soothe me,” He cupped your cheek and held your hand. His violet eyes met yours, staring right into them as he said, “Y/N, never in my life have I met a woman I have desired more than you.”

“Aegon-”

“-Let me finish, woman, I am your King,” he said firmly. “I have never met anyone like you. You and I…I feel as if The Gods purposefully crossed our paths at this moment for a reason. You have come into my life at a time where so many things are unsure. You have come to me when I was in need of reprieve from the darkness that surrounds me. With you, my love, I can escape the suffocating weight this crown I wear has on me. With you, there are no responsibilities or difficult decisions or fear. There’s only you and me.” He kissed your lips, taking all the air out of you when he pulled away.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, the words slipping from you before you realized you’d said them. Your eyes opened wide, and you froze.

Aegon studied your face, searching for a sign of falseness. The purple in his eyes was far darker than his brother’s, and usually glinted with amusement. This time they did not flicker with humor or gaze at you lustfully. They observed and examined you. You thought you may cry. You hadn’t meant to say it. They’d come out of you naturally. You both often said you ‘adored’ each other, but that is different from love. So very different. This affair went farther than either of you expected; it ran deeper than any other love either of you felt before now. Now, you worried you’d ruined it. You did not think you could be with anyone else but him.

Then, a soft smile crept on his face until his perfect, straight teeth flashed at you. He rubbed your cheek and whispered, “I love you as well, my princess,” he said.

“Truthfully?”

“Truthfully.”

“Not for only my…my body?”

“I love you for so much more than that. It does not matter to me; it never does. It is your beautiful, gentle heart that I love.” He pecked your lips, “I hope you feel the same.”

“I do,” you breathed in relief. “It is only with you that my worries leave me. I take great comfort in your presence and embrace. When I am with you,” you turned your hand over to hold his properly, “I feel I can be who I am. I do not have this need to impress or this anxiousness to keep you happy. I know I can do that by being myself.” You push hair from his face, “I love you, Aegon.”

Music from the stage interrupted Aegon’s next words, and they died in his throat. He gave you one more kiss, ale tinging the taste of his lips, then sat back. Yet, you held onto his hand throughout. You spotted your mother across the theatre, and knew she’d seen you. She did not appear as appalled or upset. In her eyes, you saw clarity. You did not know what that meant. You did not want to know.

In the second half, Raelor is sitting in a room with his mother, Queen Alyssa, who is depicted as being gracious and kind. Seeing her green and emerald dress, long auburn curls pinned back, the crowd knew who she represented. Raelor mentions sending his brother to war since Daemar is a fierce war commander. Queen Alyssa seems to believe differently. Everyone watched as she confronted her son about his relationship with Maelis. He admits to the affair, and proudly proclaims his love for her. He then confesses that he wishes to send his brother to war so he may have Lady Maelis to himself. Queen Alyssa is shocked beyond belief when Raelor hopes his brother dies in battle, and accuses him of kinslaying.

“-Is it kinslaying to pray for the safety of my beloved? Because then I shall pray, dear Mother. I shall go forth to the Great Sept, kneel upon the altar, and pray to The Stranger that my brother will fall.” He turns to the audience, and speaks again. “For should my brother be slain, Lady Maelis shall be safe from his cruel hands. If my brother falls, my sweet Maelis will know peace and be protected within my arms.”

You looked to Aegon, who finished his ale without noticing you. Had he truly done that or is this fiction drummed up by Moondrop? You decided not to question it further, and watched the rest of the play. A long-limbed man dressed in a dark cloak and a skull mask comes to Prince Daemar on a battlefield. He stands there ghostly and menacing as he watches the man fight foes left and right. The Prince is eventually cut down, but not killed. When his men take him to a maester, The Stranger stands over his bed as he rests.

"Take the bloody bastard!" A man in the crowd shouted through the silence.

"Kill the Kinslayer!"

"Kill the traitor!"

But, he is not killed. He is brought back to health, which angers the crowd.

"Hush now, my children," The Stranger hisses over their displeasure. "Do not fret. I come for all in their own time."

You learn what he meant later. When The Prince returns home, he discovers Maelis’s unfaithfulness, and harshly berates her. He then sends an assassin to kill his brother. The moment said assassin appears from behind a curtain a scene later, Raelor bravely fights him off, and demands to know who has sent him. The answer sends him into a rage, and he runs off to duel his brother.

"I have taken your wife, dear brother," he taunted, sword at the injured Prince's throat. Blood smeared on his shirt implied he'd been fatally wounded as well. Gasping and clenching his jaw, he growls, "And now, I shall take your life!"

The audience gasps at Daemar’s death. Raelor, injured and weak, stumbled away from the dead prince, clutching his bleeding wound and falling to the floor. He chokes up blood, which sprays across the wooden floors, and cries for his beloved. Lady Maelis, horrified and screaming, comes to his side and pleads for mercy from the gods. The couple exchange words of love, making the audience weep and sob. When Raelor dies, Lady Maelis gives a long speech about the cruelty of fate and love; that her life meant nothing before Raelor came to her. She says if she could not have him in life, then she shall have him in death. She grabs a dagger from his belt, and stabs herself in the chest. Tears sting your eyes watching the young woman slowly die beside her true love. Your heart ached for her. You understood her pain all too well. Then, The Stranger came forward and addressed the people.

"As I told you before, dear children," he said, "I come for you all."

He swept away in his long black robes, and the play ended to a slow melody. Despite your sobbing, you clapped along with the audience. The actors all came back on stage, bowing for the applause. Moondrop walked through the curtains, and everyone cheered louder. Dressing in men's attire, you still noted their feminine features. They bowed low and thanked the people for coming.

"And our company wishes to thank our gracious patron!" Moondrop said, "The great King Aegon, a man of the people and lover of our art!"

Aegon raised his empty cup to acknowledge the applause. You then saw something peculiar. Moondrop, giving one more bow, turned to Queen Alicent. She’d stood up from her seat, smiling brightly and applauding the playwright. Pride shone through her eyes as she tossed a wreath of white flowers, leaves, and feathers to Moondrop, who caught it in time. A Queen’s favor. Moondrop blew her a kiss, which she pretended to catch. You turned to Aegon, who’d noticed the exchange but instead continued clapping.

The people then began leaving the theater, the ground floor slowly becoming emptier.

"Did you enjoy the play, love?" He asked you, smiling softly. You tasted and smelled the ale on his breath, and knew he'd drunk more than he intended.

"I did," you nodded, wiping your wet cheeks. "It was beautiful."

"You're beautiful, sweet princess," he slurred. “The most beautiful woman in this room. Have I…Have I told you that today?”

You giggled at his lopsided grin. "I believe it is time we went back to the castle," you stated, standing up from your seat. "You've drunk too much."

"No, not yet," he said, standing with you. "I haven't shown you the square. It's-It's lovely."

"You can show me another time, Aegon."

"No, now. Quick, before my mother catches us.”

He grabbed your hand and led you down from the balcony seating. People bowed their heads, clearing a path for both King and Princess. Many of them stared at you. The women wiped their eyes and whispered words of reassurance and understanding. Even if the female lead had a different name, the people identified her as you from her wide hips and belly. They believed you to be a damsel in distress who is in a forbidden romance. It made them sympathize with you. Aegon brought you outside, and turned away from the carriage to the street.

“Y/N! Where are you going?!” Ellyn and Floris came out of the theatre, the rest of the party following them.

“I’m taking a walk with The King,” you called back. “Do not wait for me.”

“But Mother wishes to have tea,” Floris said. “You must come.”

“I will be there soon.”

Your mother stopped beside her, hand on her shoulder. “Y/N, do not stray too far, my love,” she replied. “The city is dangerous.”

“I will be cautious, Mother.”

Venturing farther from them, you came upon Mummer’s Alley. Passing vendors selling their wares, children running barefoot through the dirty streets, and several pot shops, brothels and businesses, you found a large market square. Like many other places in King’s Landing, it hummed with life. One man with white stained fingers offered you a mermaid statue carved from marble, which he’d clearly made himself. You admired the pieces before Aegon tugged you along. On a long stretch of street, several painters showcased their works right next to jewelers who bartered with customers.

“Care to examine my newest set, Princess?” a gangly man with coal-black hair asked you, showing you a long emerald necklace. “Emeralds inlaid into real gold,” he claimed, “It’d look lovely around your neck.”

“Oh my,” you marveled at it, “This is beautiful work. Did you make this yourself?”

“Aye, this and every piece you see before you,” he said, gesturing to the jewelry in front of you.

You bought the necklace. You could not deny the craftsmanship was incredible.

A distinct buzz hung in the air. This congregation of artists mesmerized you. Aegon moved about drunkenly, but that hardly bothered you. You soaked in everything. From the drummer sitting on a stool, banging an upside-down pot to an up tempo beat to the woman selling oils, creams, and perfumes she crafted herself. You’d never been anywhere like it. Music and laughter blossomed in every corner. You did not leave The Keep that often, since you're often warned how dangerous and violent the city can be. But, with Aegon beside you, you didn't feel scared at all.

"Is this where you go when you're in the city?" You asked, watching a man balance chairs on one hand. "This place?"

"Usually," he said, slowly sobering up during the walk. "It does cross into The Street of Silk." Aegon glanced over at you with a smirk, "Which is definitely where I go when I'm not here."

You bypassed a singer perched on a high window ledge, strumming a lyre and crooning an upbeat song. Seeing the amount of people crowded below him, you guessed he might be popular. “Who is that?”

"Ah, that's Flynn Lightfingers,” Aegon said. “He's the most talented bard in the city, possibly in all of Westeros. I've never heard anyone sing like him. Come, I'll show you."

He tugged you along until you came into earshot of the singer. A lithe youth with sand blond hair, Flynn Lightfingers lived up to his reputation. With deft fingers strumming the lyre, his melodic voice was gentle on the ears. The song was about a young man from Maidenpool, where he claims to have bedded all the maidens. It was raunchy and full of humor, which made a nice relief after a tragic play. He captivated and interacted with his audience. Finishing his song with a flourish, you clapped for him with the rest of the group. People tossed him coins, him catching every one in a small purse which is when he noticed Aegon.

"Your Grace!" He gave a toothy grin, "How pleased I am to see you! Care to hear my newest tune?"

"Not today, Lightfingers," he shook his head. "I'm showing Princess Y/N around the square. She's very fond of the arts, and has never seen this side of the city before."

"Ah, in that case, I welcome you to Hill Square, Princess," he gave a bow of his head.

"Thank you. You sing beautifully," you replied.

"That's generous of you to say, Princess, I appreciate it."

"Are you performing anywhere else this evening?" Aegon asked him curiously.

"Not anywhere special, my king."

"Then will you perform at the princess’s nameday feast tonight? She’d love to hear your voice in the hall, and I’d certainly gain favor with her if you came.”

"Of course!" He perked up, "It will be a grand honor to sing for you and your guests, Your Grace."

"Come to the Red Keep at sun down," said Aegon, taking your arm in his again. "I will make sure you're paid handsomely, Lightfingers."

The young man elated by the news promised a song befitting a daughter of House Baratheon. You listened to one more song before Aegon led you back into the square. You watched a fire breather perform dazzling tricks with his flames. You bought a small prancing stag made of yellow wax, and a crimson scarf from a woman who’d sewn it by hand. A woman claiming to be a seer told you that the Gods spoke to her and whispered that you'd be showered with riches. The last one did not dazzle you as much. You had riches. You wanted something more than that.

You wanted Aegon.

****

A/N: nothing like a little Shakespearian-esque play to cause suspicion, right? Notice Moondrop and Alicent? I might have a side story featuring them ;) I may post it when this series is done, since I’ve yet to post anything Alicent centric.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x yn #tom glynn carney #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd drabbles #hotd imagines #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii fanfiction

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aemonds-wifey · 1 year

Text

A Stolen Kiss Over Wine

Chapter 1

Summary: After a painful break up , your best friend Aegon is there to help you get over your heartache …

“Wha…do you mean…?” You asked with confusion.

You sat on the couch, alone in your loft apartment talking to your boyfriend Jacob. You had been together for about four months, he was lovely , bookish but something was missing from his interactions with you…after every kiss or hug you needed more. In the bedroom he was…nothing to boast about but more than satisfactory. You had met him through work, you had landed your dream job as a proof reader for a publishing house- reading books for a living. Amazingly you had the loft apartment you dreamed of, High windows and ceilings, rustic kitchen , open spaces and a master bedroom with an en suite and walk in wardrobe. You considered yourself very lucky. Meeting Jacob was the cherry on the cake.

And yet a mere 16 weeks later here he is…breaking up with you over the phone.

“So that’s it…Jesus Jacob this couldn’t have waited? I was suppose to see you in an hour!?” You were angry, hurt and incredibly mystified.

“Go to hell Jacob . Just go to hell!” You shouted throwing the phone across onto the large lounge chair.

You laid back on the couch and felt your heel kick the cushion breath your feet. You then groaned as the door knocked twice. You got up and opened the door, your best and oldest friend Aegon stood there looking chipper as always, he wore a dark green coat with grey jumper and solid blue jeans he looked very chilled. His hair slightly ruffled.

The smile on Aegon’s face faded as he saw your annoyed expression “Bad Time?” He said - looking at your attire. Perfect. You thought. Your hair was half up in a messy bun, wearing your old Bowie t shirt and your ladies burgundy boxers.

Aegon smirked as you failed to answer “Jacob not up for it ?”

You shrugged “No he…we broke up.”

He immediately stepped in and closed the door behind him, he wrapped you in a hug

“Ahhhh Y/N I’m sorry.”

His familiar musky scent strangely reassured you as you felt calmer. He placed his hands on your shoulders and looked at you “Forget him.” He reached inside his coat pocket and produced a bottle of red wine.

“Aegon wha…” you said as you watched him go to the kitchen , you followed him “Please tell me you don’t just carry one of those around ?” He removed his coat and tossed it onto the back of the couch.

He reached up the top shelf above the sink and brought down two wine glasses , as he opened the bottle he looked at you “If I tell you my reasoning …you’ll hate me”

As he picked up the glasses and the bottle you folded your arms “Aegon if anybody around here is gonna be truthful you know it’s you.”

You and Aegon had been friends since the first years of school, you rarely argued and were the very definition of best friends. You admitted he has grown up into an attractive man, and he occasionally complimented on how you had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. But he was your best friend and the idea of being with him had never crossed your mind.

He chuckled as you both strolled to the couch he put the glasses down on the table and held onto the bottle , you kept your eyes on him as you sat down

“Jacob was a looser …you were too good for him. I knew…if you came to your senses or worst case scenario he’d be an idiot and dump you then…” he said wriggling the bottle in his hands.

You sighed “I …thanks. You always have the answer….”

He shrugged “I know how to look after you .”

You nodded “ Still sucks getting dumped.”

He sat down putting the bottle on the table , he lightly patted your knee , your legs were smooth and he picked up on that... As his hand did not move. He squeezed it slightly before folding his arms against his chest.

“I must have missed Jacob on my way up- don’t tell me he took the lift?”

Aegon asked

You cleared your throat “He ..rang me. Ended things over the phone.” You said

Aegons smile faded “He what?”

You shrugged, reassuring the fact that Jacob had in fact ended things with you over the phone. “Legit two minutes before you knocked.”

“What a dickhead.” Aegon said leaning forward and pouring the wine into your glasses.

He held up his glass with a cheeky grin “Here’s to you Y/N. Free of that idiot….and here is hoping the next man you hook up treats you right.”

You chuckled and clinked your glass with his “Cheers.”

That first bottle of wine did not see the next hour, you had ordered pizza to share to help soak up the alcohol, it did not help.

Much though as you felt slightly tipsy as the night continued to see you and Aegon sat in the living room

Drinking your sorrows away. Aegon had switched on some music, streaming his playlist consisting of a mixture of his favourite tunes as well as his own compositions.

You were sat on the floor in front of the table , Aegon remained on the couch looking so cozy and relaxed.

As you leaned over to top up your glasses you noticed the bottle was empty , you jumped to your feet slightly unsteadily to which Aegon laughed “You be careful…I’m not first aid trained!” He giggled.

“You’re a music teacher shouldn’t that be a thing?” You pointed out.

He laughed “The most chilled of subjects to teach.” You chuckled as You wondered over to your bookshelf , moving a few books and grabbing something.

“Where are you going ?” He asked

You returned holding a bottle of Johnnie Walker

“Oh …why not .” He held up

His glass and you clumsily poured some in his and in your own.

“Do you remember when we went to the Johnnie Walker experience in Edinburgh?” He asked leaning forward towards the table.

You nodded giggling slightly “that was a good couple of days…we should go back there soon.”

“Round Two Y/N?” He said picking up his glass and inhaling the Smokey whisky scent.

You raised your glass “Yes! Let’s go there again!” You took a sip and felt your inhibitions getting looser. Aegon too was slightly tipsy as he almost missed the table putting his glass down “Bad influence you are.” He said as you poured more into his glass. You didn’t respond, only laughing a little.

“You trying to get me drunk?” He asked smiling

“Doesn’t need s lot of trying Aegon your such a light weight.” You chuckled

“Pot kettle black.” He grinned.

You playfully patted him on the shoulder before returning to the floor opposite him. “Come on cheer me up…how’s Zoe?”

He didn’t nod with huge excitement but he smiled only slightly “Yeah she’s…great.” Aegon had been dating this girl Zoe whom you only met a few times, she seemed nice but she wasn’t very warm to you.

You tilted your head slightly taking a sip of wine “Oh? Trouble in paradise?”

He took a drink of wine and swirled the glass in his hand “I like her and she’s nice ….but I don’t know…” his voice trailed off as he bit his lip upon reflection, you were drawn to it and quickly masked your expression by taking another drink.

“You’ve only been…going out what? A month?” You asked “Still early days Mate.”

He nodded “I suppose.” He smiled over his glass.

He suddenly sprung to his feet, standing near you to lean down and reach for a slice of pizza. He picked one up but dropped it when the next song came on.

“Ohhh yes come on this song!” He said excitingly. “We need to dance!” He suggested.

You felt too comfy on the floor , your legs crossed you shook your head

“I’m Not…oh hey come on…” you mumbled .

He held his out “dance with me.”

You took his hand, in one almost effortless swift move he had got you to your feet , he pulled you in close.

The song changed and it happened to be one of your favourites , he leaned over and turned it up.

“You love this song…” he said with a giggle

Heaven by Chris Rea was one of your most cherished songs, you nodded as Aegon held you close and began to sway you slowly in rhythm to the music . You felt so at ease dancing together , Aegon dipped you - not taking your eyes off him , your arms looped around his neck as he brought you back up. His hands rested on your hips as the song started to slow, suddenly your foreheads were resting against each other

“This is nice…” he whispered

“Mmm…feels good…” you responded very quietly.

Your eyes met, the setting sun beams were unable to bridge a gap between you as you blinked once , Aegons head turned slightly and you felt his wine soaked lips met yours slowly but firmly. The sensation was tingling up your nerves, you opened your lips a little and felt his tongue crawl in your mouth- exploring every corner as your hands cupped his neck. You moaned at this touch, you wanted , no needed more. He squeezed your hips as the kiss deepened, you felt his hand move up to your hand and his fringes brush though your hair before settling it holding the back of your neck . Your tongues now battling for dominance - he also let out a slight moan as one of your hands palmed against his chest.

Reality pulled you both back slowly as the kiss broke, you looked at each other , lips mere inches apart. Still pressed against each other you whispered “Aegon…”

He nervously bit his lip briefly “Yeah…?” He replied just as quietly .

“I think…Tha…” the alcohol had got the better of you, your head started to spin as a result of the intoxicating elixirs and the rush of kissing Aegon. Your eye lids fell too heavy to stay awake, before you knew it you were drifting away into sleep.

He held onto you as you failed to stay awake ,

“Whoah Whoah steady.” He said with concern. Your head fell into the crook of his neck and he smiled warmly.

“Y\N? You okay?” He said as he shook you once gently to check if you were awake. He laughed once. He managed to walk you to your bed and gently lower you down, pulling the cover over you - before quickly fetching a bucket and placing it by your bedside table. He took one look at you and rested his fingers on his lips for s moment, before retreating to the door, leaving your room

But not taking his eyes off you as he left the door only open slightly. He made his way to the couch , collapsing onto it in a drunken haze, before finally letting his eyes close and drift off into slumber.

☀️

As you woke the next morning your head aches with a crunching headache that stung, you fluttered your eyes awake properly trying to piece together the evens of last night. You remembered talking to Jacob and then Aegon showing up…you slowly moved your hand up to your face, your fingers ghosted of your lips, you could still taste the bittersweet red wine on them…when you wet your lips with your tongue it hit you. You remembered …you kissed your best friend last night.

Chapter 2