#Aegon Targaryen imagines

[spider-stark]

PRECIPICE

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

Warnings - implied targcest as always

Word Count - 4.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

The delicious aroma of roast mutton is wafting over you as you pass one of the many long serving tables lining the walls of the ballroom. Your gaze drags along the vast spread that has been prepared for tonight; a variety of artisan breads, cooked meats, and candied desserts are laid out upon silver serving dishes. 

As you reach the end of the first table, a pile of lemon cakes snag your attention. Neatly stacked atop an ornate porcelain platter, the cakes are coated in a thin glaze that shimmers in the light. Your mouth instantly begins watering at the sight, your stomach growling in a way that would be deemed improper for a Lady. 

Beside you, holding a plate that has been loaded with mashed potatoes and honeyed chicken, Jace turns his head to cock a brow at you.

“Hungry?” He asks, chuckling softly. 

You suck in a deep breath before forcefully tearing your gaze from the cakes. “Extremely.” 

It takes an enormous amount of will power to turn away from the serving table while still empty-handed, but you somehow manage to do just that. Having hardly even walked a few steps, though, Jace is abandoning his plate to rush after you, softly seizing your wrist to keep you from moving any further. 

“If you’re hungry, then you should eat.” 

His concern is obvious, not only through his tone, but his expression as well. With his furrowed brow and tight-mouthed frown, you’re fairly certain that he’s already considering the consequences of dragging you back to the table and feeding you himself if need be. 

Jace had always been that way—not only with you, but with everyone. He was kind hearted and considerate to fault. 

“I would,” you smile, shaking your head slightly to dismiss his concern, “but I’m afraid that if I do, I might very well pop right on out of this ridiculously tight corset.” 

You wave an idle hand down to your waist, unnaturally cinched by the intricate lacing and boning of the garment beneath your evergreen gown. His eyes follow the motion, tracing along the intense curve, lingering for a moment too long. 

The explanation seems to wash away much of his concern, relieved to know that discomfort was the only reason you had chosen to abstain from the treats being served. Even so, a touch of empathy remains, accompanied by the faintest hint of desire gleaming in his amber gaze. 

Amber—an unusual color for a boy of Velaryon blood. His eyes were one of the many reasons that your mother, the Queen Alicent, felt so confident in labeling Princess Rhaenyra’s boys as bastards behind closed doors. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that there was likely truth to her claims. Your nephews probably were bastards—but you didn’t particularly care. 

Jace was nice to you, and that was all that had ever mattered to you. 

He clears his throat, realizing that he had been gawking at your body for far longer than he should. “It looks uncomfortable,” the words spill out without permission, and you nearly laugh when his eyes go wide. “That didn’t come out right, nothing about it actually looks uncomfortable—it looks stunning! I mean, you look stunning! It’s just that, I don’t know, I imagine that having something squeeze you so tightly might be-” 

“Jace, it’s okay! Truly,” you interrupt his rambling with a soft giggle. “You should know that I’m not so easily offended,” you playfully chide. “Besides, you’re right. It is quite uncomfortable!” 

Actually, quite felt like an enormous understatement. But you didn’t figure that Jace was particularly interested in hearing about how your breasts were aching from being roughly shoved up by the tight garment. 

Jace looses a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Then why bother wearing them? Many noble-women go without corsets. Even my mother hardly ever wears one—she believes they’re vile things that only aid in the objectification of ladies.” 

Your brows rise, agreeing with the claims of your half-sister. But then you let your attention shift to the dais, meeting the rough stare of the reason why you had been forced into the tortuous garb—your mother. 

She’s already watching you when you meet her eye, her lip curled as she sends you a pointed look, silently urging you away from your nephew. It takes a great deal of effort not to shrink beneath the weight of her attention, and you’re beyond grateful for the group of women who shuffle past you towards the dance floor, giving you an excuse to break the hold she has on you. 

“I wear it because my mother wishes for all of her children to look their best,” you answer, shifting your focus back onto Jace. “And who am I to disappoint the Queen?” 

He notes the sudden callousness of your tone, as well as the way you clasp your hands together at your waist, fidgeting with the golden ring on your index finger. He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, however, knowing well enough that you were not—and already knowing why, as well. 

You imagine that Jace doesn’t much like your mother; both for her part in the rumors spread about him and his brothers and for the way she has treated his mother. 

It makes you upset in a strange way, a part of you always wishing to defend the Queen, no matter how abhorrent her actions. After all, she was your mother—whether you like it or not—and you knew very well that if someone were to try to hurt you or your siblings, then she would gladly lay her life on the line for you. 

You were thankful for her; even if her protection hurt, even if her maternal love only exists when your life is at stake.  

“Speaking of your siblings,” Jace suddenly notes, veering slightly off-subject as his own stare drifts towards the dais, “how did Aegon manage to weasel his way out of attending tonight?” 

Your brows snap together before letting your head snap back towards the dais, managing to avoid your mother’s nasty stare this time by looking to her right, taking note of each of your siblings. 

Aemond is sat directly by her side, his posture rigid as his eye scans across the room, alert and on-guard as usual. Next to him is Helaena, leisurely picking at her plate of food and mindlessly bobbing her head along to the symphony being played for court musicians. Daeron, who your mother insisted fly Tessarion here from Oldtown so that he might be present for tonight, is sat next to your empty chair, making idle chatter with those around him. 

But Aegon’s chair, sat between yours and Helaena’s, is vacant. 

A knot forms in your stomach when you look back at Aemond, his piercing violet eye catching yours, gleaming with a silent order—find our imbecile brother before he makes a fool of us all. 

You give him a curt nod before looking away, head whirling as you begin searching the crowd around you for any sign of your eldest brother. 

“Simple,” you huff, “he didn’t.” 

Jace hums his understanding as you politely excuse yourself, turning away from him to begin shoving through the throng of people filling the room. 

You decline invitations to dance and spout excuses as to why you can’t stop to chat as you push past noblemen-and-women from various Houses, trying to maintain the pleasant persona your mother favored while still moving fast enough that you might find Aegon before he finds any new ways to publicly bring shame upon the Targaryen name.  

It’s exhausting work—and by the time you have shoved yourself to the other end of the room without finding him, you nearly consider giving up. Your chest hurts and your scalp is itching from being poked and prodded by a dozen or so pins, all of which had been meticulously placed by servants to arrange plaits into a fanciful half-updo. 

In many ways, you look like your mother; with your elaborate hairstyle and green dress, the look is tied together by a pendant of the Seven-Pointed Star dangling from your neck. 

And, in many ways, you hate it. 

Much to the Queen’s dismay, you’ve never much liked the elegant styles preferred by many women at court. No, instead you spent much of your time donning mail with your hair lazily pulled back, joining Aemond for practice in the training yard. 

She hated how unrefined you were, how indelicate you were; fearful for how others at court might view you for it, for how much attention you might draw to yourself. 

You blow out a sigh, resisting the urge to pull all of the pins from your hair as you will yourself to keep walking, to keep looking for Aegon. A table overflowing with carafes of arbor wine and flagons of ale catches your attention, setting off alarm bells in your mind. 

If Aegon were going to choose anywhere to hide at this godsforsaken ball, then it would certainly be in close proximity to the alcohol. 

A cacophony of laughter and clinking goblets surrounds you as you approach, scanning over rows of bottles and skimming the faces of those nearby. Spinning your ring on your finger, you walk along the entire length of the long serving table, disappointed when you reach the end of it and find that your brother is still nowhere in sight. 

Chewing on your cheek, you fight the urge to pour yourself a drink when you notice a carafe of blackberry wine. The plum colored liquid seems to call your name, singing promises of sweet oblivion, an escape from the restless feeling clawing at your chest. 

You’re out of place here in court, and you always have been—you know that, and you worry that everyone around you knows, too. 

Sensical enough to recognize that alcohol would likely just exacerbate your current ill-feelings, you shun the carafe and turn towards the grand entrance. Lifting your chin and squaring your shoulders, you try to appear more composed than you feel as you saunter towards the large wooden doors. 

If Aegon had snuck off with one of the serving girls, then there was a good chance that he was still somewhere in the hall, either flirting or feeling up their skirts. And, if you were wrong, then at least he had provided you with an excuse to slip away from this mess of a ball. 

As you pass by the last serving table, the platters and dishes atop it already thoroughly picked over, you feel someone tug at your dress. You whirl around, a fiery retort already falling off your tongue, fully intending to rip into whoever had found the audacity to touch you without permission—only to find yourself insulting the air. 

There was no one there, at least not close enough to have touched you. 

For a heartbeat you begin to reel, wondering if you’ve started to lose your mind before feeling the sensation again. A sharp tug at the fabric, just by your knee. Your head snaps down towards your dress, covering your mouth before a gasp can slip your lips. 

An arm is peeking out from beneath one of the finely embellished tablecloths, and a well-groomed hand is clutching your skirts. You instantly recognize the hand as Aegon’s, having become intimately familiar with your brother’s touch throughout your life. 

Taking a step closer to the covered table, you try to look natural as you hunch over it slightly to get closer to his level, feigning an interest in a half-eaten roast duck. 

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing, Aegon?!” Your voice is hushed, not quite a whisper, but low enough so that no one other than him might hear. 

Releasing his hold on your skirts, Aegon lifts the tablecloth a little higher, revealing his face. “Get under here,” he tilts his head, motioning for you to join him beneath the table. 

“No!” 

He swiftly presses a finger to his lips in response to your incredulous shout, shushing you. You stiffen, nervously flicking your eyes to each side, checking to ensure that no one had heard you. Fortunately, the courtiers around you appear far too invested in their conversations and drinks to notice how you appear to have shouted at a roast duck. 

Aegon’s lilac eyes are wide, pleading as he shoves the tablecloth up higher, giving you more room to slip beneath it. “Would you just shut up and come?” 

It’s the sheer urgency of his tone that piques your interest, although you wish that it hadn’t. You huff out an annoyed sigh, taking another look around the room before gathering up your skirts and sinking to your knees, crawling underneath the table. 

Once you’ve successfully sat down beside him on the stone floor, he drops the cloth, shielding the two of you from any prying eyes. The material is thin enough that it allows some light to pass through it, very dimly illuminated Aegon’s grinning face, all urgency having suddenly vanished. 

“Welcome,” he almost sounds breathless, the word airy—and utterly unnecessary. 

You can faintly see the rosy coloring of his cheeks, a few messy silver waves tumbling across his face, and you’re immediately willing to bet that he’s extremely buzzed. “What are you doing, Aeg?” 

Your tone is firm, but there’s a certain gentleness to it that was specially reserved for your eldest brother. While you maintain that you love all three of them equally, it’s undeniable that your relationship with Aegon has always been… different. 

He reaches to his side, lifting a carafe from the ground beside him. “Having a party,” he says, raising it towards your face and playfully swirling the garnet colored liquid. 

“I’m unsure if you’re aware,” you motion towards the cloth shrouding you from the bustling ballroom, “but our mother has already planned quite the celebration for tonight—and she likely does not wish for it to be ruined by her drunkard son ducking beneath tables like an imbecile!” 

Aegon pokes his bottom lip out into a pout. “Why must you assume that I am drunk?” 

“Because you’re you,” you drone, cocking your head at him, “and you are always drunk.” 

Rolling his eyes, he sits the carafe down on the ground between you. There are only mere inches separating the two of you, both of you squeezing your limbs close to your body to avoid having a foot peek out from beneath the table. Sitting this close to him, you can smell the sweetness of the arbor red of his breath—as well as the faintest hint of sulfur, a sign that he had clearly gone riding on Sunfyre earlier and had failed at washing off the dragon’s strong scent. 

You take another breath, inhaling the smell of him into your lungs. It was familiar—comfortable, urging your taut muscles to slacken in his presence. 

“And what if I told you that I am sober right now?” 

A snort escapes you, sparing him an incredulous look. “Then I would call you a liar,” you tell him, tapping a finger against the rim of the half-empty carafe. 

His stare drops down towards it, watching as the liquid ripples when you pull your hand back. When he looks back up, he’s wearing a crooked smile that makes your heart flutter. “Mostly sober, then.” 

It’s nearly impossible to stifle your laugh, clamping a hand over your mouth so that you might muffle the sound and prevent passersby from becoming suspicious. The sound only makes his smile grow wider and more genuine, an expression that he graced very few people with. 

“I’ll ask again,” you say, speaking only when you're confident that no more laughter will tumble out. “Why are you down here? If mother finds out then she will be furious and-” 

Aegon tosses his head back, cutting you off with a groan. “Mother will be furious no matter what,” 

Disdain drips from each syllable, thickening the air around you. He didn’t like talking about her much, and you couldn’t blame him for it. Of all your siblings, Aegon had been dealt the worst hand, simply by being born first. He got the brunt of your mothers vile behavior; and you hated that, too. 

“Because,” lazily rolling his neck so that he can look at you again, he answers, “I’d rather spend my night under here,” he flicks a hand up, lazily gesturing around himself, “than be forced to sit through even one more tedious speech from some ancient Lord of gods-know-where!” 

You bite your tongue, holding back another laugh. 

“And,” he continues, nodding in your direction, “I am now saving you from the same mundane fate. You’re welcome.” 

“What makes you think that I needed your saving?” You ask, brows rising. 

Aegon purses his lips, placing a finger against his chin as he feigns contemplation, studying the intricate styling of your hair, the modest long-sleeved gown, and the Star resting against your covered breasts. “Perhaps it was that our mother has you dressed up as though you’re an aspiring Septa.” 

Thinking of the plain women, with their simple gowns and traditional head coverings, you nearly laugh again as you ask, “How many Septa’s do you know that wear corsets and jewelry, brother?” 

“None,” he admits, shoulders lifting into an indolent shrug. “Though, if they looked more like you, then I might finally have a reason to attend prayer. Beautiful women would be more than enough to turn me into a pious man.” 

A warmth creeps up your neck as blood rushes to your cheeks, unsure if his statement was meant as a compliment—was he saying that he found you beautiful? If so, it shouldn’t have been a particularly shocking revelation. After all, Aegon had complimented you before, many times. 

In all fairness, however, most of those times had been when he was thoroughly besotted. He had a habit of sneaking into your rooms and practically draping himself off of you, muttering drunken nonsense about how breathtaking you were. You had never placed much truth in the statements though, assuming that Aegon likely didn’t even recognize who he was speaking to, much less whose bed he had crawled into. 

But even if this was a genuine and mostly sober attempt at complimenting you, the flattery of it doesn’t last nearly long enough. Your own insecurity washes back over you far quicker than you like, reminding you of just how unlike yourself you currently feel. 

“I do not believe that anything would be capable of turning you into a pious man,” you joke, trying and failing to cover up the melancholy that has settled into your bones. “Not even beautiful women.” 

“You could.” 

The answer comes far too quick, spilling from his tongue with an eagerness that even seems to catch him by surprise. 

“Though, I must say, for as exquisite as this dress makes you look,” his hand reaches across the short expanse dividing you, mindlessly running his fingers along the fabric covering your shoulder, “I much prefer the way look in armor—sweaty skin, messy hair, sword in-hand—all of it.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch drifts towards the center of your chest, fingers dragging along the thin chain leading to your pendant, lifting the Star into his palm. He stares at it for a moment before yanking it roughly from your neck, grinning when you yelp. “But this,” he lifts the Seven-Pointed Star slightly, “I absolutely hate.” 

With that, he tosses it from underneath the table, sending it skittering across the floor beyond the tablecloth. 

Your jaw drops open, a hand pressed against the now-sore spot along the back of your neck. Despite yourself, your lips start to curve into a playful smile. You try fighting against it, try pressing them into a firm line, but fail. “Mother will not be happy about that-” 

“She’s never happy,” Aegon interjects. His own expression shifts, the line on his forehead deepening as he says, “Do not let yourself bear her misery. Life is too short—and you deserve more than that.” 

A palpable silence is thickening the air, and your breathing seems to synchronize as you simply stare at one another. 

Slowly, nervously, you say, “I’m not sure what it is that I deserve,” 

“You deserve,” he pauses, lips still parted despite the absence of speech. Then, swallowing back the words that had been building in his throat, he says, “you deserve whatever it is that you want, sister.” 

Your hand falls from your neck into your lap, and you avert your gaze, watching your fingers as they fidget with your ring. “And what if I do not know what I want?” 

Once, you had thought that you wanted a life like Jaces. A happy life, with a mother that knew how to love you and siblings that hadn’t been raised in fear of their half-sister ascending the throne, taught that their very existence was a threat to her power. But, suddenly, you felt as though you were no longer sure. 

Aegon hesitates, watching you carefully. His lilac eyes appear as though they’re searching for something within your own—a hint of recognition, or reciprocation. If he found what he was looking for, then you were unaware. “Then you’ll figure it out,” he sighs, his smile not reaching his eyes. “You have all the time in the world to decide.” 

There is something reassuring about his statement, making it resonate with you in a way that you hadn’t expected. You look up, holding his gaze for a heartbeat, then two, and you almost swear that you can see it—the silent invitation, the plea to delve deeper into his words, to decipher exactly what it was that he was promising you. 

You have all the time in the world—all the time in the world to decide if he might ever be something you want. 

Suddenly you find yourself dancing on the edge of a precipice, chest tightening as you grapple with the idea that, maybe, something more might exist between you and Aegon. 

That, maybe, he had always known who he was complimenting and what bed he was slipping into. 

That, for him, it had always been you. 

“Aegon, I-” 

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you have a chance to say something that he fears you may regret. Then, sliding the carafe between you to the side, he scoots closer. “If you plan on staying under my table,” he teases, clearing his throat, “then we need to do something about your hair.” 

“I thought you said I looked exquisite?” You stay still as he starts toying with the strands, trying to swallow the tumult of your own emotions. 

Aegon’s plucking various pins from your hair, tossing them to the ground. “Yes, but I also said that I prefer your hair when it’s messy. It’s more…” he sucks in a breath, unable to hide the admiration swelling in his chest when he finally exhales, “you.” 

Your cheeks are burning hot, and you’re suddenly very thankful for the lack of light around you. On instinct, you almost tell him how your mother wouldn’t agree—but then you think better of it. 

“You’re… generous.” 

Something about your voice sounds foreign in your ears. You sound nervous—and you’re not used to feeling nervous around Aegon. 

His fingers are combing through the plaits forming your updo, his brow drawn taut, framing his lilac eyes, shining bright with concentration. “Generous,” he snorts softly, nails raking lightly against your scalp as he shakes the strands loose, “I don’t hear that one often.” 

“Well perhaps you’d hear it more if you weren’t such an ass,” you shoot back, slowly trying to slip back into your usual self. 

“Me? An ass?” He’s untangled the final braid, scooting away from you slightly now as he presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “Never.” 

Now falling in loose waves, free of those incessant pins, you brush your hair over your shoulder. “Just earlier I heard you telling Lord Grover that if wisdom were measured in wrinkles that he would be named Grand Maester.” You point out, unable to mask your amusement while recalling the old man’s shocked expression. 

“Is it not true?” Aegon smirks. “The man is nearly seventy, and his age certainly shows.” 

“Lord Grover is only two-and-fifty, brother.” 

His brows shoot up, gaping at you. “Tell me that you’re not serious!” When you nod, confirming that you are, he sucks his teeth. “Wow—how unfortunate. He looks positively dreadful for his age, then. I thought that he surely had one foot in the grave by now.” 

“Aegon!” You rebuke through your own sputtered laughter, shaking your head at his insolence. “See? This is what I was talking about! If you weren’t so crude then you might get more compliments.” 

Swinging his arm back to grab for the carafe, Aegon’s nose scrunches slightly. “Why bother?” He implores, a hint of mischief in his tone. “My crudeness is what you like most about me, is it not? Without it, dear sister, your life would be quite boring.” 

Just before he brings the carafe to his lips, he inclines his head towards the tablecloth, emphasizing his words. A reminder—that, without him, you would still be out there, sitting miserably amongst your siblings and being forced to dance with Lord’s twice your age. 

There was something more beneath the veil of humor and arrogance, however. A craving that had him tipping the carafe back, hoping that the stinging of the alcohol might numb his gnawing desire for validation—to hear you say that you yes, my life would be boring without you. 

“I suppose you’re right,” the admission has him pausing, the carafe lingering against his bottom lip. “Truth be told, I had never put much thought into it before, but you do have a way of keeping life interesting, Aeg. So, I must agree that, without you, my life would be positively dreadful.” Staring at the ground in-between you, you smile before adding, “After all, who else would be able to convince me to risk our mother’s scorn and crawl beneath a table to drink wine and fix my hair?” 

There’s a slight tremor in his voice when he speaks, trying to mask the warmth swelling in his chest, “You have yet to drink a single drop.” 

“Then I suppose that is the next thing you’ll have to fix,” you say, sticking your hand out towards him, urging him to pass you the carafe. He hands it to you while biting back a grin. 

“Careful,” he warns, “drink too much and you may end up like your drunkard brother.” 

“I don't mind,” You mirror his expression, your own lips curving as you raise the glass upwards, the strong scent of the arbor red stinging your nostrils. “I quite like my drunkard brother.” 

His gaze burns against your flesh as you tilt your head back, allowing the alcohol to slip over your tongue, and you suddenly realize that you are no longer standing on the edge of that precipice. 

You’re falling.

a/n - i was honestly just thinking about jude and cardan hiding under a table in the cruel prince and ended up with this? so yeah, definitely inspired by jurdan content (but y'know... no coup d'etat lmao).

[aemondsdoll]

forget honour | aemond and aegon

masterlist

Summary: The two silver haired princes claim you, from the moment they saw you.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, making out, drunk, no PIV but it’s implied. throuple vibes. no y/n used, we ain’t do this here

Pairings: Aegon x f!reader, Aemond x f!teader

You don’t know how you got here, with these boys.

One night, you were helping Aegon return to his room after he had stumbled into the courtyards late at night, drunken and ill.

And one day, you had stumbled into Aemond yourself while trying to use a sword all too heavy, and he had helped you find one more suited to your tastes.

Now, you were seeing both of them everywhere.

Aemond routinely accompanied you in the library whenever you went, would train you while getting a little too close and walking you through the gardens.

Aegon, he didn’t find excuses for his attachment. Simply barging into your chambers at an unbecoming time of night, taking his place near your side. He would often dismiss your handmaidens in the mornings, insisting he help dress you instead.

You did not mind the attention one bit. And eventually, it got more heated. You remember it well.

Sitting in the library, Aemond was by your side. He held a book in his hand, but he much preferred to read you, your body language, your words. He didn’t bother to hide it, his hand landed on your thigh.

The two of you had the library to yourselves at such a time at night. Asides from the guards at the door, who dare not interrupt the one eyed prince. His thumb stroked the fabric of your dress, applying the perfect amount of pressure to send teasing strikes of euphoria through your veins.

Aemond enjoyed the look you spared him from the very side of your eye. Though this was not enough for him to falter. He moved his hand to your knee, where he clutches the fabric of your dress, looking into your eyes with his one, asking for approval.

Your mind screams ‘No.’ but your body takes the lead, and you nod. His hand quickly disappeared under your skirt, pushing your small clothes out of the way just a little bit. You gasp, muffling it with your hand. He parts your moist folds, feeling around for the little bud. Every movement of his agile finger makes you squirm, swearing under your breath.

Your hands holding your book quiver, and you struggle to hold it, even with both hands. His thumb moves to circle your clitoris with just the perfect amount of force, meanwhile his index parts your folds once more. You sharply intake your breath as it pushes into your hole.

You almost cry out as he finds the rough patch within your walls, you buck against his finger, and he learns you like it when he makes a come hither motion. He’s learning you, and it might just be his favourite thing ever.

It’s not long before your orgasm builds up, and Aemond can feel it. His thumb using your juices to smoothen his attack on your clit, while his index still worked expertly inside you. Letting out smaller little whimpers, whispering for him to never stop as if he is all of the gods at once.

You come undone with a crash, gripping your book to the point where it’s indented into your palms, and knuckles have paled. Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

Just the memory leaves you reeling, breath picking up. And then there’s Aegon, who had surprisingly enough made little to no attempt at laying with you, though close enough.

Aegon’s tongue tastes of wine as it mixes with yours. The two of you had indulged while in the gardens, leaving both sides feeling risky as Aegon had you cornered against the wall of a secluded seating area deep within the gardens.

Your hand knots in his hair, tugging, with each tug a delicious whimper escapes from those swollen lips of his. His hands ferociously grope at your bodice, cupping your ass, running up your sides to rub at your modestly covered tits. Though you attempted to keep yourself ladylike, your chest pressed against the fabric of your dress, leaving you assets well on display, even when covered.

Aegon loved it, hands going back down at yiur ass to which he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his hips. His hardening cock eagerly pressing against you.

Though the moment was far from long lived as a guards armour alerts you both to a new presence, and you pull away.

It was beautiful, how both the princes had taken such a liking to you. You had no doubt in your bones that they wanted you just as harshly as you wanted- no- needed them.

They both had made you feel things, and those things would never be forgotten. And that was certain as you looked to your side, the comforts of your furs paling in comparison to the two bare men before you, who had just fucked you raw, their silver hairs splaying out behind them, Aemond still managed to look elegant, so beautiful. Aegon, was adorable.

You were going to keep these boys, and they were going to keep you. You are theirs and they are yours.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Like A True Flower (Aemond x Reader)

So this was a bit hard to write but I hope you guys like it. There’s a slight mention of Aegon but I think I’ll need to write a part two to get into it cause there was just too many things to write. Let me know if you will be interested in that

As the years passed and the Targaryen name went from a burning dragon fire to merely a small candle that was handed to Daenerys Targaryen, the whispers of the bastard curse never went silent.

“If my children do not sit on the throne then none of our lines shall prosper”

(Y/n) Targaryens legacy lived on from people tarnishing her, blaming her and others who admired her wits and hunger for recognition. The bastard of Daemon Targaryen that was dropped off in Kings Landing, at the time Daemon had begged his brother King Viserys to legitimize her, raise her as their own, only the Seven could have known that (y/n) would turn out to be the one to put the sword on Aemonds hand and send him off to battle that got them both killed.

(Y/n) was the lady wife of Aemond per Queen Alicents request? At first, Alicent scoffed at the babe who seemed to sense the hatred that grew around her crib, a bastard amongst royalty, it was such a scandal at the time that Viserys had even considered giving her away. The babe growing tireless and her lungs as strong as steel made her discomfort evident to everyone with well working set of ears.

“Your grace”

“Have you fed her?”

“Fed her changed her, bathe her, nothing seems to work”

Alicent had walked into her nursery for the first time since she arrived, something in her compelled her to come to the child’s aid, listening to her wailing took her back to the first year of Aegons life.

“Give her to me”

The wet nurse hesitated only for a split second before she complied with the queen's orders, gently passing that young babe to Alicent who cooed at the poor thing, she had almost turned purple from crying, “she misses her mother” Alicent considered silently, slowly she started rocking her whilst she walked towards the window, she was pregnant with her third child at the time, her belly growing big and someone’s else daughter in her arms.

“She looks beautiful I’ll give you that much little girl”

She joked to the babe as the light of the sun graced her cheeks, it always seemed to work for Aegon and as the seconds passed (y/n) 's cries lessened, and a satisfied smile grew on Alicent lips as the little lady finally found peace in her arms, slowly turning her frown to one of the most adorable yawns that tugged at Alicante heartstrings.

“All you wanted was some sunlight, like a true flower”

Alicent was in awe of the child ever since, such a true beauty, and as she grew her delightful personality took everyone by storm, to be around her was to fall for her, even as just a child little boys would bring her flowers that they plucked from some unfortunate garden, including Aegon and later Aemond.

The two brothers were close to the princess, they would compete for her attention any way they could, of course, Aegon had the advantage of having a dragon and Aemond had to stay on the ground as he watched them circle one another, he would gawk at them with envy, praying that one day Aegon will have to watch him ride his very own dragon with (y/n).

Aegon on the other side would despise (y/n) and Aemonds reading time, the young girl was gifted at the literate arts, it was almost like she would swallow any book and recite on the spot anything that she was asked about any book she had gotten her hands on, Aemond was not as intellect yet he caught fast than Aegon and was more inclined to ask intriguing questions.

You can imagine his outburst of rage when the queen announced that she was to marry his youngest brother.

“She had inherited the lustful urges of her ferocious father, at the very least we must say she was much more discreet about it”

The historians would report back when asked about it, Aegon had the lust and fire of the dragon, while Aemond was sweet, attentive to her needs and his touch was oh so soft. Besides the fact that (y/n) wanted to have a bite of sweet and spicy, she also relished the jealousy between them, fighting for a spot in her bed every night was an aphrodisiac like no other.

Even though she was married under the seven to Aemond, she would often sneak from her chambers at the hour of the wolf and warm Aegon bed or other times when the chambermaids would scurry away after listening to the loud moans of (y/n) and Aemond in any type of room that the castle had to offer.

“A little after the war of dragons began her lady in waiting- Chiara Baratheon- had reported seeing the princess sitting on the iron throne while Aegon pleased her”

Mushroom would add briefly and with a hint of disapproval. No matter what she had the blind trust of the king and the prince and the undeniable love of Queen Alicent, the gods seemed to be in her favor whilst everyone wondered how.

(Y/n) was blessed by the dark world that her entire bloodline owed everything, at nightfall when the castle grew tired (y/n) would burn her candles and open her book, coming in contact with her ancestors as she sacrificed animals or even offered her own drops of blood and whenever she could she would spill Aemonds or Aegons, if you asked her she would say that she did it out of love, to keep them safe and in power, if they climbed the throne it was only natural that she would follow.

-

“Are you sure about your choice in your gown?”

“Never been more certain of something in my life, don’t you find it flattering?”

“You would be the most comely lady in all of Westeros even with a sack”

“Then it is settled, I am sure Mother will love it as well”

(Y/n) responded light-heartedly as she snaked her arm around Aemonds, she smiled brightly up at him like she always did making his stomach turn in backflips….like she always did.

Admins was taken by his lady wife, he was forever a slave to her and he was the one who had thrown away the key of his cell, his eye would sparkle with admiration any time he would simply gaze at her, her touch brought him goosebumps and her love, oh her love, like a fire that slowly burned him from the inside, a sweet death that was worth a thousand cuts.

“Our deepest apologies, I lost track of time worrying about my bloody hair”

(Y/n) could not afford to seem raddled or scared in front of her father's hawk eye, she paraded in with Aemond linked on her arm and a bright smile of a carefree attitude.

“Mother”

She acknowledged Alicent as her mother years before she was wed to Aemond, bending down to give a kiss on the cheek to the queen that made Alicent smile brightly and turn slightly towards her.

“How are you my flower?”

“Better, the morning sickness seems to be wearing off”

“Morning sickness? Is the princess with child?”

“Indeed… forgive me you haven’t been at court for so long, should I address you as princess, sister, or good mother?”

“Princess will do”

Rhaenyra confirmed through her teeth as her hand went over Daemon which had turned into a fist. Rhaenyra was no fool yet she somewhat understood the reasoning behind the young girl’s actions, left behind and forgotten by her father, motherless by death and fatherless by choice, she had begged Daemon to demand to take her with them but Daemon felt that the bond was unable to be fixed in any way.

(Y/n) only nodded and Aemond pulled out the chair next to Queen Alicent as she always wished to sit right next to her, even Otto had learned not to question it, as the dinner went on and the exhausting speech of King Viserys who just so happened to remember that he has a family that has steadfastly trickled into the chaos that he never even attempted to fix (y/n) also had to endure the forcefully emotional toast of Rhaenyra, still the shock that came from Alicent calling her “a fine queen” was the part that compelled her to rise and take her goblet.

“I would also like to raise a toast to our king who was kind enough to take me in when I had no one and merely but a babe I will always be grateful for that and to my mother, Queen Alicent, who came to my aid and offered me the love and the kind touch of a parent that I was denied by destiny, my love and devotion for her goes beyond words, may they live on and be able to see the fruits of my marriage.”

Daemon was ready to combust from anger. “How fucking dare she?” He thought “I took her from the arms of her dead mother, I begged Viserys to give her a home and now this is how she chooses to repay me?”

As the music played and the wine flowed everyone’s shoulders seemed to relax and laughter would intertwine with the mixture of talks amongst the people that dined.

“Would you do me the honor?”

(Y/n) heard from the back of her, turning only to be met with Prince Jacaerys who was sticking his arm out of her, there was a time when (y/n) and Jacaerys had some type of connection, Jacaerys was kind to her and had even offered to teach her the art of the sword, (y/n) puffed out a breath after she took his hand, no matter how she felt about it she was aware that Alicent wanted this to pass as swiftly as possible with no type of conflict.

“You look breathtaking if that isn’t obvious”

“That is very kind of you to say, my prince”

“I remember there was a time when we did not use such formalities”

“That was a time when my intended had both eyes”

she threw back with a smile still on her lips, as they dance (y/n) might have appeared to be happy although it could not be further from the truth, as they danced around together with a turn that Jacaerys had guided she was able to see both Aegon and Aemond waiting for their moment to attack Jacaerys, the prince was too carefree as he walked in the edge of their swords and it came the time that (y/n) dipped with his one arm around her waist and his free one went up to caress her locks, that was when a sudden booming sound of Aemonds fist on the table was heard, (y/n) immediately stood up and watched Aemond raise his goblet.

“To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey each of them handsome, wise… strong”

“Aemond”

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again”

“Why? T’was only a compliment, do you not think yourself strong boy?”

Jacaerys was once again the one to bring violence into the matter, what seemed to be not taken into consideration was that Aemond was now a man-grown, and quite easily with one hand, he pushed Jacaerys onto the floor. (Y/n) walked to Aemond and stood between them, her hands finding his forearms, before she could phrase anything the queen had also walked up to the prince of chaos.

“Why would you say such a thing in front of all these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs”

That was enough to send Jacaerys off again and try to free himself from the guards. The prince only got to make a few steps before Daemon stood between, it seemed like Jacaerys respected the rogue prince which left (y/n) dumbfounded, “who could respect such a buffoon?” She questioned in her mind

As Daemon turned to look at Aemond (y/n) took it upon herself and stood in front of her husband, the same smirk that Daemon had was the one that (y/n) was presented as well, her mismatched eyes reminded him so much of his mothers, “it was a shame that they had to be wasted on her” he thought.

At least he had to appreciate her ever-growing courage, though he didn’t know if he had to congratulate her or fear her, the girl put herself ahead of the man that she was wed just to prove she was just as courageous as the man she grew to hate.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Rhaenyra commanded but it appeared that (y/n) and Daemon had gone on a standoff, eyeballing one another like animals waiting for a slight move so the other could attack, both of them spewed fire from the eyes.

Aemond admired her, he would not dare to touch her and quite frankly he did not want to, he thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his love standing her ground against such a vile man.

“Little flower, please”

Alicent pleaded as her shaky hands found (y/n) 's upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze, (y/n) inhaled sharply although she only took a step back when Daemon diverted his focus to his lady wife, (y/n) offered a smirk to Alicent and after she gave a kiss on her cheek to calm her down, she knew that Alicent was never fond of such tension.

“Get some rest Mother, a long morrow awaits us”

The only way towards their chambers was to pass by Daemon, so step by step (y/n) and Aemond stood by his side, (y/n) halted and faced Daemon right in the eye.

“Let us solve this another day, Father”

It would have been better if she had called him the vilest of names, that name was enough for Daemon to reach for his sword and Rhaenyra to beg him to stop by pushing him back.

(Y/n)s laughter was heard as she walked away with her husband following close, the second the doors of the dining hall closed Aemond had snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her for a deep kiss to which (y/n) responded with the same passion.

“I did not know such things excited you, my love”

“How could it not? Any man would implore for an ounce of your attention after such performance”

“You always demand my attention Aemond”

“Can you blame me?”

He cheekily responded. (Y/n) only smiled and kissed him again pulling him in, she did not have much time, though a small stop to collect her prize of a very excited husband would not hurt.

“Tonight I need you in my chamber”

“Where will you do it tonight my love?”

“The simplest of cuts… right here”

She said as she let her index finger grace over the middle of his chest, she had to offer something right before the king died to make sure the will stayed spinning towards her.

“Whatever you want, my love, as long as I get my treat after”

“I could never deny myself the pleasure of you”

“Let us go before Aegon catches up to us and steals you away from me

Requests are open!

[theship-thewalrus]

Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen niece reader.

Soft Aegon needs some love

Like they are married and her mother comes back six years later like in the lord of ties episode and sees her pregnant with Aegon baby. And gets mad, And Alicent is like a mother to her.

Hi anon!! I hope this is what you were looking for!! Feel free to request again as I enjoyed writing this :)

aegon ii targaryen x niece! female! reader

pretty much the ask

word count: 739 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: n/a

Part 2 || Ending 1 || Ending 2 || Ending 3 || Ending 4 || Headcanon 1 || Headcanon 2

It had been six years since you last saw your mother, something you felt wrong for saying. As she no longer felt like your mother, after your marriage with your Uncle, Aegon, you had been rejected from your family. Your name becoming almost a bad omen within their home. Yet as you stood beside your husband and his family you could see all the hate, betrayal and disgust in your mother's and brothers's faces as their eyes move from your face to your notice bump.

The mere thought you allowed such a beast like Aegon defiles your body in such a way disgusted them. As though they had not pushed for the match in a weak attempt to keep their families together. That the child that your will birth will not be their grandchild. Instead, some bastard that held no ties to them, not even from you.

As you gaze upon the hate in their eyes, the disgust is aimed at you and your unborn child, allowing pain and betrayal to rip through your heart. Your breath quickened for a moment despite how you tried to keep your composer as Vaemond spoke of his claim to Driftmark. Yet his entire speech fell upon deaf ears as your gaze unfocused, your hand subconsciously rubbing your bump as you try to tame the thoughts in your head.

A hand grasps yours, a soft yet firm one grounding you to the present once more. Aegon had noticed your state of panic, it hurt him to see you in such a state. Thus, he silently grabbed your hand to remind you that he was here. That he was by your side no matter what difficulties may befall the pair of you. Your eyes shot to his as a shaky smile graced your features. Though no words were spoken you could feel the emotion Aegons was attempting to convey to you.

Yet such a moment was ruined as Lord Vaemond was cut down in front of you, the scene ripping you back to what was happening far too quickly for your liking. A gasp of shock left you as you flinched away from the sight, Alicent's hand pushing your back slightly along with Helena. The woman had become a mother figure to you in recent years. She was someone you would much rather call mother.

The events were quickly finished allowing you to leave with Aegon, much to your pleasure. You were unsure how much longer you could stand there under the stares of your birth mother. You did not wish to see them again during their time at King's Landing. For years, you had been thinking of seeing them again, to hug your family and share the joy of your child. Instead, you have been greeted with nothing but disgust and disappointment. Something you could not deal with in your current state.

As the doors of Aegon's chambers shut behind you, creating a barrier between you and the outside world, you finally allow your facade to fall. Tears quickly well in your eyes before they trail down your cheeks and fall to the floor. It was all too much for you the hatred, the stares. It was clear they wanted nothing to do with you and yet you yearned for the embrace of your birth mother. To feel her hand plays with your hair like when you were younger, to sit in her warm embrace by the fire. Yet such a feeling you would never be able to feel again, all because you married the man she wanted you to.

"Oh, my sweet wife." Aegon's words were soft, lacking his usually uncaring and dismissive tone. In their place there was genuine concern for your well-being, he knew what it was like to have your family hate you. The relationship he had with his father was non-existent and the one with his mother was truly a coin flip. He knew how it felt to be stared at like you amounted to nothing, that you were a disappointment. He never wanted for you to feel in such a way.

Bringing you into an embrace your head rested on his shoulder as his arms encased you. The embrace was loving and safe allowing your tears to soak his clothes without judgement. Despite all his harshness and flaws. How cruel and drunken he can be. The man could also be incredibly kind and soft.

[gay-dorito-dust]

For Aegon

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜

You could feel him staring at you; No, you could see him staring at you from the corner of your eye as you skimmed the paragraphs of your book under the guise of ‘reading.’ So much so that whenever you braved to glance at Aegon, who only seem to thrive in being caught as he continued his blatant staring with absolutely zero shame as a smirk growing across his lips and a glimmer in his lilac eyes. You didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry out of disbelief at his lack of digression. It never ceases to baffles you how shameless Aegon could be, even within the eye of the public he would have the misfortune to rule. His words not yours.

“you seem to have developed a staring problem as of late, my prince.” You said without taking your eyes off of the book in your lap, despite your desire to read had long since became a thing of the past, “And more so then not that staring has been aimed at me for most of the time.” You didn’t even have to look up to know that his smirk had widened across his face for Aegon was a simple book to read, even a child could do it. “What? Am I not allowed to look at you now?” He asked amused, you didn’t reply. “If my staring causes you were so much discomfort, then why haven’t you voiced your displeasure?” Aegon gauges your silence as a means to continue voicing his thoughts. “Or perhaps, if I’m right in assuming, you actually like it.”

You snorted, closing the book and placing it beside you as you looked over to address Aegon, only to find that he has moved himself closer to you as he leant against the Weirwood tree, arms and ankles crossed over one another. Had he always been so quiet on his feet? “Don’t flatter yourself Aegon, I’m probably not the only one you’ve been staring at.” You mentioned matter of factly, recalling the times where his lusty lilac eyes lingered elsewhere as you fought against the feeling of jealously building within your throat. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way, Aegon didn’t seem the type of man to willingly commit to anyone and you seemingly detested his depravity and uncouth ways at every turn.

However you didn’t catch onto the brief flicker of sadness within Aegon’s expression when you turned back to attend to your abandoned book. “If it brings you any reassurance but my eyes have never looked at another the way they looked at you.” He starts as he brought himself down to sit next to you beneath the bloody eyed tree with crimson leaves, testing the waters by grasping your hand in his as he took note of how you froze momentarily as though to compose yourself before falling into a sense of ease that still held onto that little bit of tension. “They may look to others in lust but to you, they’ve looked at you with nothing but admiration, comfort and above all, love.” Your body stiffen at the word but your eyes were peaked with interest as a warm sensation began to flood your chest as though you were a hearth brought aflame.

“Whether you believe my words or not, I do not care for I know my feelings to be true because whilst I may not be born into a loving environment; I still crave the things I cannot have and love is one of them if not the sole thing I crave to experience the most.” Aegon paused, feeling himself becoming overwhelmed with his own emotions that they started to form themselves into the tears that brimmed his pretty eyes. Aegon was always a pretty crier, you’ve noted. He made it look like an art form and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand to console him into continuing. “So whenever you doubt my devoting to you, it hurts. I know why you doubt me, I understand it more then anyone because I’m the one who has to live with the consequences of my own actions.”

Aegon lays his head against your shoulder, pressing a kiss there before burying his head deeper into you as though he couldn’t get enough. His hand gripping yours tightly but not so much so that it caused you pain. “Yet here I am, laying my heart bear before you, praying to the seven in hopes that you don’t ever break it.” He finishes, too emotionally drained to remove himself away from you, not that he’d ever want to anyway; Clenching his eyes shut in waiting for your rejection, for you to smash his glass heart into a million fractures so small they looked like stardust. “Don’t pray to the Seven Aegon,” you told him softly, “for they’re the type who’d come to collect what is owed in droves. They’ll rob you blind of everything in the name of faith.”

“Then I’ll pray to you instead.” Aegon replied hastily, moving his head away from your shoulder to look at you with his bleary, bloodshot eyes as he smiled weakly. “Then you’ll have too much faith in me. I’ll let you down should I not meet your image of me every time.” You responded, resting your forehead against his, rubbing your nose gently his own. “Then don’t, let us be perfectly imperfect together until the end of our days.”

[chloe-skywalker]

Marriage - Aegon II Targaryen

Aegon x twin sister Fem!Reader

Warnings: normal G.O.T

Word count: 966

Summary: If Aegon has to marry a sister he wants it to be his twin. He wants it to be his twin anyways. The only person who loves him in his life.

Masterlist

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“You need to marry. You are of age and need to secure yourself.” Alicent tell’s her oldest son for  what felt like the hundredth time. She wondered if he’d ever get the urgency of this topic.

“I don’t see why it’s so urgent.” Aegon spoke up for the first time since having entered his father’s chambers to discuss an ‘issue’ with his father and mother.

“I agree with the boy. It’s not like he has to get married before the next moon.” Viserys raised a hand gesturing towards Aegon. It’s not like he would be taking the Iron Throne, he didn’t need to rush marriage.

“He needs-”

“Do you have anyone in mind, Aegon? I would prefer to keep our blood pure Targaryen.” Visery asked his son, completely ignoring and cutting Alicent off.

“You have to be joking?!” Alicent exclaimed with wide eyes filled with horror and disgust at the thought of her children being married to each other.

Sure she knew it was the Targaryen way that they married their own blood more often than not. It didn’t mean she supported it or liked it.

“Since Rhaenyre hasn’t had any girls, do you happen to like either of your sisters?” Viserys continued to not pay Alicent any mind as it was not her say that would be finale. Nor was she truly a Targaryen.

Alicent couldn’t believe that she wasn’t going to have a say in this. Or that Viserys would let Aegon have a choice. “By the gods-”

“Y/n. Y/n or no one. That’s my decision on marriage.” Aegon stated with a surprisingly strong tone of voice. If he was going to be allowed to choose he wanted it to be Y/n. His twin sister. The one he loves and who loves him.

“Its settled then. I think it’s a fitting match that will work out perfectly. Good choice.” Viserys smiled and clapped his hands together.

“You can not be serious?!” Alicdnt looked on in shock. That did not go as she had planned.

“I am and it is finale. No one will change my decision, or Aegons or I’m sure Y/n’s. Not even you.” Viserys looked to Alicent with a look that told her to step down.

Viserys had noticed over the years how close Y/n and Aegon were and he also knew how bad of a father he’d been to them. If letting them marry each other was what would make them happy it’s the least he could do for them.

“I’ll go tell Y/n the good news.” Aegon gave a nod with a smile before he left to go find his sister and share the news of their engagement.

It took him a while searching a couple of her favorite places. But he finally found her at the dragon pits.

“Y/n.” Aegon called out.

“Over here.” She called out and Aegon followed the second of her voice. “How was your meeting?”

“Dreadful. But it ended well.” Aegon told her as he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her torso.

“Oh really? What was it about?” Y/n raised a brow curious to know about it.

“Mother wants me to marry.” He told her with a groan.

“To secure your place.” Y/n mimicked their mothers words with a roll of her eyes.

“Exactly.” Aegon scoffed but was amused by her imitation of their mothers nagging.

“And the king? Our father. What’d he say?” Y/n asked wondering if he had said anything to either support or put down their mothers ridiculous plans.

“Asked if I had anyone in mind. Said he’d prefer our blood to stay pure.” Aegon was giddy to tell her the news for them but he also wanted to see her reaction.

“Did you?” Y/n was nervous about asking the question. Sure they say they love each other and wish they could marry the other, but given the chance to choose anyone would he still choose her?

“Yeah. And he said yes. He approved of us. He approved of us getting married.” Aegon couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He was overjoyed that they were going to be married. It was always a hope but with their mother and grand sire always scheming behind people's backs there was always an air of uncertainty.

Y/n spun around looking her twin in the eyes. Her own wide with shock and hope. “He did?”

Aegon nodded, tightening his hold on her waist. “Yes, he did.”

“Oh Aegon.” Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could. Aegon lifted her up and spun her in his joy, happy she shared in it.

“We can finally be together.” Aegon mumbled into her neck.

“We can.” She let out a happy sigh. At least they would get to have each other in this cruel world.

“Mothers furious.” He laughed, setting her back on the ground as they pulled back to look at eachother.

“Let her be. Not like she really cares about us.” Y/n reached up to cup his cheek’s in the palm of her hands. Smiling at him as if he was the only person in all the realms. “Aegon, I won't turn against our sister. Against Rhaenyra.”

Y/n knew it was probably bad timing. But he had to know before they got married her decision and where she stood if their mother and grand sire got their way.

“I don’t want to be king. Whatever you want to do, I’ll follow you.” Aegon didn’t care to ever be on the Iron Throne, but he did care about Y/n. He’d go wherever she wanted to go. All they ever had growing up was each other and that's how it’ll always be.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

[multific]

A Mother's Love

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aegon getting stuck in a meeting is nothing new. Being held up by the nobles was a normal occurrence. However, all Aegon was thinking is how he would rather be in bed with you, his very pregnant wife. 

Aegon was held up by the council. His leg bounced as he grew more and more annoyed by the second.

All he wanted was to go back to bed, where you were, cuddle to your baby bump and forget about all this King nonsense.

Little did he know, that just as he was dreaming about your baby bump, you were on your bed, screaming in pain.

One of the servants went to fetch the King, but a knight stood in her way, not allowing the king to be disturbed. 

Aegon was now extremely irritated, he felt like for the entire day, he had been held in that damn room.

And he was.

As soon as he exited, the servant girl rushed over to him.

"My King! I have been waiting for you!"

"Not now! I wish to rest!" he tried to dismiss the girl.

"But My King! The Queen is in labor." that stopped Aegon. He slowly turned and looked at the girl.

"What did you just say?"

"She started her pains this morning, it is possible she has already given birth." said the girl.

"Why didn't you come and tell me sooner?!" Aegon was now yelling.

"The guards stopped me." she replied, Aegon looked at his guards, shooting extremely disappointed looks at them. But he can deal with them later.

Aegon then quickly turned and headed back to where your shared chambers was.

He opened the door, and there you were, your eyes met him and you smiled. Holding a little bundle in your arms.

Every servant left the room, leaving the King and Queen alone.

"I didn't know. They didn't tell me." he said, trying his best to explain himself but you just smiled. He moved closer to you.

"Doesn't matter anymore. Come, meet your son." you were quick to hand him the bundle as he sat down next to you. "He looks like you."

Aegon looked down at his son, his eyes and hair were the exact as his father's.

"I was hoping you would name him." you confessed and he gave a nod. He was too focused on the little baby.

"He is beautiful." Aegon whispered as the child yawned. "You gave me an angel." you smiled, closely watching the two. 

"I'm also extremely tired. If I may sleep for a bit."

"I will give him to the nurse."

"No, no Aegon." you were quick as he stood up, you reached towards your son. "I wish to have him here, please."

Aegon looked at you confused. "Why? You need to rest."

"Yes, of course. But I also need to bond with him. If I don't have him here... I do not wish to be like your mother was to you." you finally confessed. Your deepest worry since became aware of the little human inside you.

"You would never be like her." Aegon moved back onto the bed, sitting down once more. "You will be an amazing mother. You will show every woman what it is to be a mother. A mother who loves their child. I know you will, you grew to love me." you smiled.

"Leave him in his crib." you pointed at the little bed next to your side of the bed. "When he falls asleep, put him on his back into the bed and the small blanket over him. If he wakes and I don't, wake me, I'll feed him. Do not call a nurse. Promise me Aegon that you will not call a nurse." he could hear the desperation in your voice and as much as he knew you needed to rest, he also didn’t wish to fight your decision. 

"I promise you, My Love. I will do as you asked." you nodded before moving to lay down, watching the two as you fell asleep. 

Aegon looked at his son, slowly standing up as he walked to the windows, letting the late afternoon sun hit the child's beautiful round cheeks. 

Aegon placed a kiss onto the child's forehead. 

Aegon was still rather furious that the guards didn't warn him about what was happening in his own castle, he will make sure that they will learn their lesson. 

But just for now, he was okay with only holding his son as he watched you sleep.

A warm feeling completely filled his chest. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​​ @destynelseclipsa​​ @spilledinkindumpster​​ @capsiclesdoll​​ @puknow​​ @alwayshave-faith​​ @alex12948​​ @lxdyred​​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @praline357​​ @trshngyn​​ @avengers-r-us​​ @violet-19999​​ @top1bbgloak​​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[celebrityxcrushes]

OUR FUTURE

-

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After a drunk Aegon misses the birth of his firstborn son, he is forced to have a serious conversation with his wife about the future of their marriage.

Word count: 1234

-

As a drunk Aegon sneakily made his way into the hallway leading to his chambers, he thought himself to be alone. However, as he opened the door to his chamber, he suddenly faced his mother.

Immediately noticing the disappointment in her face, he quickly realized that he was in trouble. It was obvious that she had been waiting for him, and it was obvious that he had done something to displease her.

With a nervous gulp, he slowly started making his way towards his bed. His head was pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep off the alcohol. "Mother," he greeted, sitting down of the edge of his bed to remove his shoes.

Alicent could smell her son from the other end of the room, and knew all too well of the state he was in. Knowing that he was far too distracted by his own headache and tiredness, she decided to get to the point.

"Y/N went into labor while you were," Alicent paused slightly and raised her brows slightly in disgust, "occupied, and your son was born about an hour ago. Luckily it was a fairly easy birth, and they are both doing well."

Leaning back into his bed, Aegon let out a small groan and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"She's resting in her chambers. I will let her know that you will join her after cleaning yourself up." With those as her final words, his mother dismissed herself and left him alone with his own thoughts.

As your husband and as the father, it was not expected of him to be in the room as you gave birth. But you had made it clear from the start that you expected him to be somewhat present. It was your first child, and Aegon knew that you were frightened by the thought of childbirth. Especially as he knew of how your own mother had passed whilst giving birth to you.

Even in his current drunken haze, Aegon remembered how he, albeit reluctantly, had given you his word - promising to be there when the labor would start.

And as he dragged himself out of bed and slowly made his way towards your chambers, he knew that he truly had messed it up this time.

-

You felt your entire body tense up as Aegon entered your chambers. Although he had washed himself and smelled somewhat better, there was no hiding that he had been out drinking.

Your handmaid looked towards you, silently asking you what you wanted her to do next. Giving her a small nod to signal that it was okay, you turned to greet your husband.

"My prince," you whispered and gestured for him to sit down on a chair next to your bed. "Do you wish for them to fetch our son for you to greet him?"

One of the maids had taken him to his nursery shortly after his birth, as the maesters had instructed you to rest. You felt obligated to ask, but you knew what Aegon's answer would be even before you saw him shake his head.

"No need. I simply wanted to check up on you." An awkward tension spread in the air. "I'm glad you're doing well."

Shuffling slightly to reposition yourself, you felt a stabbing pain in your stomach. The physical pain was, however, nothing compared to the emotional pain you were feeling at the moment.

It was no surprise to you that Aegon had failed to be there for you. Although you had only been wed for less than a year, you had already gotten familiar with the feeling of disappointment that came from him letting you down.

But as you laid there, screaming out in pain and asking for your husband, an alternative life flashed before your eyes. One where you had wed another man, someone loving who gave you all the love you knew you deserved. Although you knew it was impossible, the thought filled you with a sudden sadness.

As you realized that you were lost in thoughts, and that your husband was waiting for you to speak, you calmed yourself with a deep breath. "I feel a bit tired and think I might rest a bit now, if you don't mind."

Aegon stood up and turned towards the door, but couldn't bring himself to leave. He hated the feeling of knowing that you were disappointed in him. The feeling of being a disappointment, first to his parents and now to you as well, had always made him sick.

And so he turned back towards you.

"Do you love me?"

As he whispered out the words, he squeezed his eyes shut - not wanting to witness your reaction to them. Aegon was confident that you would say no, and he couldn't blame you. After all, from the moment you were wed, he had been an awful husband to you.

Never physically abusive. Not once had he laid his hands on you, nor would he ever do so. But he was never present. Far too busy with alcohol and prostitutes, instead of being a loving or attentive husband to you.

But still, no matter how awful he had been, he was still the same Aegon that you have always loved.

As you contemplated your answer, your thoughts drifted to your childhood. You had grown up in King's Landing together with both Aegon and his siblings. While you were close with both Aemond and Helaena, and they were dear friends of yours, Aegon always had been your favorite.

As a child you loved following him around, and your crush blossomed as you grew older. The day your father told you that you were to be betrothed to the prince, you felt nothing but happiness.

You knew Aegon never shared your feelings, but you naively hoped for him to fall in love with you after your wedding. Your hope only grew stronger after he one night confided in you, letting you know that he wanted a different marriage for himself than the one his parents had. He wished for true love, just as you did.

"Of course I love you. I always have," you eventually whispered back to him. However, as Aegon let out a breath of relief, you continued.

"But I don't like you."

Your words felt like a knife to his stomach, but he knew that he deserved to hear them.

"And for this marriage to properly work, I need to like my husband."

Aegon tensed his jaw, but gave a short nod to let you know that he understood your words. For the first time in a long time, Aegon felt somewhat determined to get a grip on himself. He truly wanted to do better.

"I'll make you like me again then," he vowed. His eyes stared deeply into yours, and you could tell from the glassy eyes that he was still a little drunk.

"Nothing would make me happier than that, my prince," you truthfully said and smiled at him.

You weren't a fool. You knew Aegon had made countless of similar promises, both to you and to his own mother. Swearing that he would change - claiming that he would quit drinking.

But for your own sanity, you needed to believe that he truly could do better. If not for you or your babe, then at least for his own sake.

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being Rhaenyra’s daughter and being married to Aegon.

Aegon Targaryen - you didn’t grow up being close to one another, or at least, when you had, you had been quite young. From the moment that the marriage was arranged, neither your mother nor Aegon’s being happy about it, you tried to think of him less as a distant cousin and more of a future husband. On days when ravens flew, you hoped to hear more about him. However, the news that you got was not always good.

On the one hand, it was reassuring that he found sexual solace among other women, and that perhaps you wouldn’t have to perform that daunting tas which seemed so intimidating. He’s got knowledge of other places to look. You though, you were not like that at all. Your mother and father raised you to be more headstrong, confident, and pure, despite the rumors that went around about your mother and how your brothers had dark hair.

Your wedding day came swiftly. You wore a dress accentuated with green as a nod towards the Hightowers and their color. Aunt Alicent seemed to like that, since she gave you an approving nod. Not a smile though. It was hard to believe someone as cold as her and someone as warm as your mother could ever have been friends, but regardless. You walked down the aisle and met with your husband, you spoke your vows, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

Later, the real marriage began. Not the ceremony, no, but what the ceremony represented - being together, working together. He could be cruel at times. He never gave you compliments. But you were confident enough not to need them. You did not need some man to call you pretty, even if it was the King. Even if it was your husband. But you worked well together on other matters. Yes, you performed your wifely duty and became pregnant shortly after the marriage, but the marriage of minds was more powerful than the meeting of bodies.

Strategy. Power. Tactics. The art of war. You were taught by your stepfather, Daemon. You actually listened to your lessons. And you were able to give good advice to your husband. Advice that he often passed off to his hand and his council as his own, but at least he took it. At the end of meetings, he would always come and tell you how it went, whether your advice was given consideration or not. And then you would kiss him and give him your blessing to let off some steam elsewhere within the city, a hood covering that fine Targaryen hair. Some men will never change their appetites. Just as you won’t change yours for taking care of the realm, no matter the cost.

Requested by: @rachelcarroll1819​

[mystcldydrms]

ONE SHOTS:

...

BLURBS:

...

HEADCANONS:

...

JUST IMAGINE:

...

[nyrasbloodyclover]

"i'm team black" "i'm team green"

well i am neither because i choose my teams with my pussy and not my moral compass

[spider-stark]

JEALOUSY

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary - Dealing with the consequences of making Aegon jealous

Warnings - MINORS DNI, abusive/toxic relationship, definite masochism, choking, brief mentions of blood, brief mentions of blades, targcest

Word Count - 1.6k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Stars cloud your vision when he shoves you against the wall, your temple slamming into the rough stone. 

You hiss at the pain splintering through your skull, throbbing so much that you hardly even acknowledge the accompanying ache in your shoulder, your arm contorted awkwardly as his fingers wrap tightly around your wrist, pinning it in-between your shoulder blades. 

He leans in close, pressing his weight against your spine and knocking the air from your lungs. His other hand comes up to tangle itself in your hair, keeping your cheek pressed firmly against the stone.

You try to use your free hand to push back against the wall, desperate to give your chest enough space to expand, to allow oxygen to fill your needy lungs. 

A dry laugh rattles his chest at the sight, amused as he watches you shove helplessly. Then, after listening to your pathetic pants for a few heartbeats, his grip slackens enough to let you catch a full breath—but not enough to give you an opportunity to escape his hold. 

Though, even if you could free yourself, you would’ve had no intention of actually doing so. 

“I bet you think you’re a clever girl,” his lips are nearly grazing against your earlobe as he speaks, the warmth of his breath fanning down your neck. “Don’t you?” 

Aegon’s tone is sickeningly sweet, and the saccharine taunt offers a distinct contrast to the violent grip he still has on you. You can still feel the sharp sting of his nails clawing around your wrist, digging into the flesh so deeply that you wonder if he will draw blood. 

It wouldn’t be the first time that Aegon had made you bleed—and you hoped that it wouldn’t be the last. 

Panting, still trying to catch your breath, you say, “I haven’t the slightest idea as to what you’re on about, brother.” 

Brother—the title elicits a guttural sound from him, a low and heavenly sound that has your body acting of its own volition, your thighs squeezing together in search of friction. 

Aegon knew that, in this particular instance, your choice of wording had been a deliberate move. A reminder of what you were to him; his youngest and sweetest sibling, a girl that he was supposed to want to protect from evil men like himself, the kind that wished to ruin you in ways the Seven would never forgive. 

But you enjoy feeding into his sinful and insatiable desire to defile his sweet sister. And, in spite of the pain—from your head, from your shoulder, from your wrist—there’s a sly smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. A sudden sense of power rushes your veins, dulling the pain you’re feeling and replacing it with immeasurable satisfaction. 

You had control over Aegon—always. 

Even now, with a hand pinned behind your back and stone scraping your cheek, you held the most power, because you were the one that had worked to painstakingly orchestrate this entire situation; using today’s tourney as an opportunity to entertain a few pathetic men from House Greyjoy, going so far as to offer one of them your favor during the joust, and giving up a dance to another after the banquet. 

You had taken advantage of your brother’s innate jealousy, as well his own deep-seated insecurity that eventually you would find another body to warm your bed, another man to satiate your desires. Cruelly, you had taken advantage of him in hopes of eliciting this very response. 

You wanted him like this—frustrated and enraged, so irate and possessive that the only way he could possibly relieve the tension was like this; shoving you against a wall, hellbent on forcefully reminding you that your body had been made for him. 

“You’re insufferable,” his moan is laced with such animosity, such raw ferocity, “you think that you can do whatever you wish,” his head dips lower, nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck, “that you can flirt what whoever you wish,” your breath catches in your throat as you feel his tongue quickly swipe along your pulse point before growling, “without consequences.” 

His finger’s knot themselves further into your hair, keeping you from thrashing away from him as he sinks his teeth into you. A wave of pleasure and pain ripples through you at the sensation of his sharp cuspids pricking at the sensitive flesh. 

“Aeg-” 

More calculation, more deliberation—you knew how much Aegon loved to hear you whine for him, knew that it would cause another moan to slip from his lips, effectively loosening his jaw and relieving the pain of teeth prodding into your throat. 

He doesn’t stop, though, continuing to nibble and suck until there’s a bruise blossoming beneath his lips, always refusing to pass up on an opportunity to mark you. You writhe against him, further feeding into his fantasy of sullying his little sister by trying to squirm from his grasp. 

But, with his body still pressed so firmly against yours, caging you to the wall, you find yourself grinding against the firm imprint of his cock straining against his trousers. The subsequent whimpers that fall from your lips are not purposeful, instincts taking over once again as you try and shift your hips, rising on your toes and attempting to poke your ass out, doing everything you can to feel him against you. 

A thin bridge of saliva trails from your marred neck to his lips as he tuts softly, “So needy,” he presses a kiss to the growing bruise he’s left behind, the action so tender and doting. The hand he had raveled in your hair falls to rest in the curve of your waist, squeezing slightly as he asks you, “Tell me—do you truly think that those Greyjoy boy’s could have gotten you like this?” 

“Perhaps,” you tease him, intending to see just how far you could push him, “I’ve heard rumors about the Iron Islanders. Baela tells me that the Grejoy men are well-known for their fat cocks-” 

The crude claim has just hardly left your mouth before Aegon whirls you around, sending your back crashing into the stone this time, his hand enclosed around your throat. It’s nearly impossible to tell whether the sounds slipping from you are from pleasure or pain, but Aegon doesn’t particularly care. 

“Speak one more word about their cocks,” he snarls, his lilac eyes turning predatory as they narrow at you, “and I will carve your tongue out.” 

Your own gaze travels to his waist, settling on the dagger sheathed at his hip. Indolent as he was, you knew that your brother was capable of making true on his threat. For all the discipline he lacked, he still had the sort of temperament that makes a man deadly—with or without a weapon. 

But you trust him—more than you should—and you immediately recognize his threat as being an empty one. Aegon had no intention of ever pulling a blade on you; though he had certainly succeeding in implanting the thought in your head, your mind suddenly running wild with all of the ways that you might encourage him to use it on you later, wondering how it might feel to have him fuck you with the hilt. 

Aegon shakes you from these fantasies, though, squeezing your throat tight enough that your vision is going hazy again, leaving you blinking stupidly at him. “With only a few chaste kisses I’ve succeeded in turning you into a writhing whore,” he spats at you, the harshness of his tone making you flinch, “could the Greyjoy’s have done that?” 

There’s a wobble in his voice as he speaks the same, giving away his need for reassurance. You almost consider giving it to him, nearly finding yourself the victim of his soft, pouty lips, your body urging you to lean in and taste them—but it seems that your silence has a more desired effect, earning an entitled huff before his other hand is gliding down your abdomen, bunching up the silky fabric of your dress. 

“No,” he mutters, perhaps to himself more than you. “They could not satisfy you! No—they could not possibly know all of the right ways to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you!” 

You’re biting your tongue as his hand finally slips beneath your dress, his fingers swiftly diving between your thighs, curving so that he can make quick work of removing the smallclothes beneath—only to realize that you’re wearing none. 

He stops—his chest rising and falling in a series of many short, shallow breaths. His rage grows exponentially, his intrinsic insecurity leading him to believe that you had abstained for their benefit and not his. There’s a muscle feathering in his jaw and, for the first time in this encounter, you nearly consider searching for a means of escape, your eyes beginning to grow wide with fear. 

But then his lip trembles, lilac eyes growing glossy as he growls, “You are mine–” his palm is flat against your throat, squeezing tight enough to make you wheeze, “only mine.” 

His mouth is on yours before the declaration has even fully rolled off of his tongue, uttering the final word against your lips as he kisses you harshly, fervently, desperately—trying to prove himself to you, prove that he’s capable of making you feel a type of euphoria that the Greyjoy boy’s never could. 

Later—you would soothe his pitiful little mind, promising him that you had never actually taken an interest in the Greyjoy’s. Later, once you had been thoroughly bruised, bitten, and fucked, you would tell him the truth; that you had only ever wanted him. 

But, for now at least, you would take all the pleasure you could get from the dangerous, predatory touch of your jealous boy.

a/n - idk, i was bored at work and just ended up with this. not sure if i even like it, but i'm trying to get better at just posting the things i write instead of letting them die in my drafts

also if anyone wants to talk about hotd (writing about it or just watching it lol) please message me, i'm desperate for hotd friends before season 2 <3 <3

[aemondsdoll]

wicked game | aemond targaryen

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem reader, background aegon targaryen x fem reader

warnings: masturbation, perv aem, reader is aegons wife, suggestive

a/n: this was very rushed, and not proof read.

Aemond knew what you were doing. Giving him those calculating looks, ones that drifted over him. And then there were the more seductive ones, ones that made his cock harden in his pants.

God, you were perfect, but untouchable. Aegons, you were Aegons wife, perhaps that’s what made it fun.

Aegon who took everything from him, and Aemond, who took the attention of his dear lady wife.

Aemond knew what you wanted, and you knew what he wanted. Eachother, so badly. So badly, he began using the secret passageways to peek into your room, one you shared with Aegon.

Aegon pounded into you, with little to no rhythm. He gave you no pleasure, and Aemond was sure of that, your moans were fake, and your own hand was circling your clit.

You deserved better, to be fucked mercilessly with pleasure. Aemond focused on you through the peephole, undoing his trousers and fucking into his own hand.

His painfully hard dick was throbbing, leaking as he watched you squirm in pleasure from your own movements on your clit.

You were getting close, all to the thanks of your own hand. If that was Aemond, he’d be bedding you the right way, rutting into your hot cunt into all the right places, his thumb rubbing against that needy little bud.

The thought alone almost makes him cum, but he wants to cum with you.

Your head is thrown back, moaning. If only Aegon knew it wasn’t for him. Your finish was approaching.

Aegon came, collapsing next to you without a care for your pleasure, but you kept going. and with your increase of speed, Aemonds did too. His cock was throbbing in his hand, begging for release.

And just then, you came. You moaned loudly, “Aemond…!” and in that moment, Aemond couldn’t believe his ears, and his cock spurted hot cum in thick lines onto his hand.

Aemond panted, pulling his eye back from the peephole, only to hear Aegons amused chuckle.

“Again? Perhaps we ought to organise for Aemond to use you, I’m sure he’d enjoy that tight cunt of yours.” Aegon spoke, and Aemond could hear if, and his heart pounded.

So that wasn’t the first time you’d came to him? And Aegon wanted him to fuck you?

One thing was certain, and if Aegon searched for him, he intended to be found, if only a second inside you.

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Man You Deserve (Aegon x Reader)

This was requested by @ksuumin : Okay, I have one!! Aegon is heavily drinking and is found by his betrothed, she takes him back to the red Keep and gives him a bath, during the bath he has a slight mental breakdown and she comforts him and is all fluffy. Enjoy, this was so fun to write btw

I would suggest listening to “everything I wanted” by billie relish or “line without a hook”

When (y/n) Hightower was informed that she would be wed to prince Aegon she almost passed out, she was set to travel to kings landing and meet with her cousin Queen Alicent, she hadn’t seen her cousin since princess Rhaenyras wedding.

When she arrived at the Keep she was greeted by a warm hug from the Queen and cousin Alicent who kept apologising for her son Aegon not being here to welcome her. (Y/n) smiled politely and nodded even though she was close to crying, her instinct kept warning her about her future marriage.

She had heard stories about her betroth, how prince Aegon spend most of his time at the Silk Road and hydrated with wine instead of water, a future with a lord husband that had those kind of habits was unstable and frightening to her, yet she put on a brave face and appeared unfazed but at night she would kneel in front of the candles and pray to mother for a happy marriage.

“What seems to be the problem?”

She questioned the young lady that stood in front of her. The girl did not meet (y/n)s gaze, she instead chose to look at her feet while her hands were clasped behind her back.

“Prince Aegon seems to be missing, he hasn’t been seen since he broke his fast on the morrow”

“Does the queen know about this?”

“Not yet my lady, Ser Criston has yet to decide if they should send guards to search for him”

“Very well, thank you for your information elina”

Before she could let her thoughts eat her alive, she ran outside her room to meet her sworn guard

“Ser Helias, show me the way to kings landing”

“My lady, you are not allowed to leave the keep at such late hour”

“You are sworn to me are you not? We must find my betroth before Ser Criston gets a hold of him”

The long legged man hesitated before he scoffed and nodded. (Y/n) smiled even if the guard did not whole heartedly agreed to this. As they got past the main gate it didn’t take long to find prince Aegon passed out just few meters away from the Red keep.

“Is he alive?”

(Y/n) asked the guard. As the man leaned into the passed out Aegon he placed his hand underneath the Princes nose for a minute.

“He is breathing”

“Very well, give me a hand”

As she grabbed Aegon by his one arm her guard grabbed the other and lifted him up in unison, their pull resulted in earning a grunt from the clearly intoxicated and rather smelly prince.

“Am I dead?”

“Unfortunately not my prince”

She couldn’t hold the sour comment any longer, she had grown tired of his antics on the other hand the situation of having to search for him brought her a new wave of anxiety for his safety.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing?”

“Carrying you”

She responded shortly. Aegon tried to open his eyes and look in her direction, seeing her lips pursed and her eyebrows scrunched together as she held on to him and mildly grunt under his weight made the feeling of embarrassment grow as it slowly took over his entire body.

He had attempted to remain sober in her presence, firstly to avoid the scoldings of his mother, second was that he did not wish for her to see him like this, drunk and dirty. She was his betroth, the woman that would eventually carry his children, the lady that would accompany him until the end of their days, that new sense of responsibility was foreign to him, how could he grow up to step up as a good husband and father when he didn’t have a good example of it?He had already failed before they even got to the wedding ceremony.

The walk back to the keep was not long still it was far enough for (y/n) to start huffing and puffing, she wasn’t a woman of petite frame moreover carrying a man up countless of stairs was an activity she was not prepared for. As they approached her chamber of Aegon (y/n) instructed her guard to stay outside, fortunately she was still capable to prepare a bath for the prince and with hesitation she stripped him off his clothes.

“I never thought this would be the way you would see me naked sweet (y/n)”

“Hush now, don’t make this worst than it already is”

She shot him down, her irritation clear as day in her tone, he could almost see the anger radiating off of her though oddly enough her touch was careful and gentle. She made sure to carefully assist him to step in the tub and even ask him if the water is warm enough for his liking.

Aegon observed her as she picked up a sponge and kneeled next to the tub in order to clean him properly all while the silence between them was comforting, this was the most genuine affection Aegon got in years, as the sponge glided on his body he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch as much as he could.

“Do you hate me?”

He spontaneously inquired before he gulped, anticipating a positive answer like he always got. (Y/n)s movement came to a halt as she was caught off guard by the topic of his question. She let out a deep breath before (y/n) regained her composure and kept on with her task.

“I do not loathe you my prince, I’m afraid my feelings for you are more complexed than that”

She explained with a voice so sweet he wished he could put it in a bottle and drink it. He turned to look at her, making a slight motion at the water as some escaped and fell on the ground, he gripped on the white tub like a small kid and eyeballed her like a small child. She smiled at the sight of him, (y/n) had never seen him so vulnerable, so true.

“Explain then”

“How could I explain… I believe you choose to self soothe and numb yourself with alcohol in order to avoid your emotions, from what I have observed you had to grow up in an environment where others expected you to be as wise, poised and skilled as an old maester, warrior and king before you even made your first step”

(Y/n) expressed her opinion and as they beheld one another (y/n) started to notice Aegons eyes fill with tears. She was shocked for a moment before she reached for his cheek, a touch that Aegon accepted and didn’t know he needed until he felt the warmth of her flesh on his.

“It’s alright Aegon, you can confide in me”

With that Aegon bursted into a full crying fest, as his entire body shook from the sobs and tears washed over his face, he was crying loudly and the emotion was so raw that anyone with a heartbeat would crumble at the scene that was painted.

(y/n) could not sit still, it was like watching a wounded animal mourn, yet there was no bleeding on the outside even though (y/n) was sure his souls was scattered in pieces, making him bleed internally for all these years.

(Y/n) got on her feet and placed her hands on his arms so she can pull him up, wrapping his lower body with a white towel before guiding him to his bed. Aegon kept crying even when his body hit the soft mattress, his hands covering his face to prevent her from seeing him like this, her words had such impact on him that he could not control himself, he just cried and cried to the point that even breathing was hard.

(Y/n) did not pressure him to put on any clothing on him, she let him keep the towel as she simply lifted the sheets and covered him, making sure his head laid comfortably on the pillows as he cried. She had observed him for days, she could always detect the sadness and pain he felt almost every day, such tragedy that (y/n) wanted to steal away from him, eat the darkness so he can finally breathe freely.

As Aegon let his emotions show he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and get close, he was being embraced, her hug was like a breath after staying underwater for so long, her presence was better than milk of the poppy, her scent was more pleasant than any flower, (y/n) was his fate, his sanctuary.

Immediately Aegon brought her as close as humanly possible, (y/n) remained silent and stoic as she felt every hiccup, every sob, she imagined this what it would feel if she was a rock while the waves of the ocean smacked it, a violent act that was not intended to harm her yet it cut deep. She wanted to do more even though this was for the best, he needed to let his sadness flow, like a cathartic ritual a cleanse of every emotional burden he was holding.

“Do you feel better Aegon?”

He gradually calmed down while (y/n) patiently waited for him to settle down, she brushed his blonde hair in a way to help him come down of his breakdown. He clung onto her with all the strength he could gather until he stopped sobbing all together, he looked up at her with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face, (y/n)s heart clenched at the sight of him, the damaged prince that was just a big child whom yearned for affection, for love.

“I’m sorry”

“Do not apologise, we are to be wed, what kind of lady wife would I be if I left you at such a vulnerable moment?”

Her kind smile brought him such comfort, he finally understood what it meant to have a partner…. A home even.

“I want us to be happy my love”

“Then you must try, do you promise to try for me? For us?”

It almost sounded like (y/n) begged, if you asked her she would say that she was. This was a small ray of sunshine for a bright future, she must grab the new opportunity and hold on to it with all her might. Aegon raised up a little to be at the same eye level as her, his fingers gracing her cheek in such tenderness, it was like he was afraid that she would float away if he reached for her, like a dream that he would soon be rudely awakened by.

“I swear it on the gods, I will become the man you deserve”

Requests are open!

[theship-thewalrus]

Can we get protective brothers Aemond and Aegon ii Targaryen over there little sister.? Please and thank you xo

Hi Anon!! I did this as a headcanon, hope you do not mind :) Anyway, hope this is what you are looking for and enjoy it <3

aemond targaryen x sister! reader x aegon ii targaryen (plantonic)

pretty much the ask

word count: 409 words reading time: about 2 minutes warnings: nothing :)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊the pair would be the most protective older brothers known to man.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊they do not think anyone is good enough for you, no lord or lady.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊You would be a more accepting and kinder mother figure to them, causing them to be jealous and protective. Demanding your praise and attention constantly.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Aegon acts younger than you do at times, if you are close he often demands your attention. He can become jealous of even his siblings if he believes they are getting more attention than him

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊If he notices a Lord or Lady taking up a lot of your attention he would march right over there and pretty much demand the other person leaves

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊God help the person that may be making you uncomfortable. Aegon does not hold back at all, practically spitting at them to leave. They'd be lucky if he didn't order their death or at the least harm on them

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Aemond would be a little more reserved and stubble when jealous and wanting your attention.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Like his brother he would march over to talk to you. But unlike him, he simply asks if he could talk to you privately, without the other person present.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊If he notices you are uncomfortable, he would be quick to come and save you. He may not order their death, but he will hurt them himself.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊Apart from protecting you from other people, they teach you how to protect yourself. Well, Aemond does, not so much Aegon. They both what you to be safe, even if they aren't there to protect you.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊but more often than not they would be beside you, at dinners and events. A hand resting on the small of your back, leading you places and being there to pull you from harm's way.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊┊their possessiveness and protectiveness would be overbearing at times. but they do it because they love and care for you. you are the one good thing in their lives

[gay-dorito-dust]

A/n: I originally wasn’t gonna write for Aegon cuz he ain’t a good dude and I don’t condone his actions even in the slightest nor make any attempt in defending him cuz why fucking would I. ( Aemond nor Daemon aren’t innocent either and yet I write for both of em. How Hypocritical.) but it’s the soft!Aegon fics that got me in the end. So this’ll probs be a one off fic to get it out of my system.

“Have you ever wanted to run away?” You’d ask Aegon whenever the burden of becoming king became too much for the man to handle as he would subconsciously search you out for comfort. “Where would I even go?” He’d ask, bleary eyes staring up at you from his position on your lap, “it’s not exactly the easiest thing; hiding. Especially when you’ve got a dragon and features like mine.” He gestured to his short platinum blonde strands that made up his hair, trapping some between his fingers, tugging it lightly before letting go. Cursing his family for specifically having to have distinct features. It was probably the only the only time where he felt jealousy towards his nephews who could go undetected within a crowd, whilst he and his siblings would stick out like sore thumbs.

“That maybe true but I’m sure you’ll be able to find some place where the Targaryen name holds no meaning.” You reassured as you ran your fingers through his short hair, watching as he closed his eyes, pushing his head further into your hand and relieving a heavy sigh from his nose. Aegon throughly enjoyed your soft touches, touches that would linger on him like a ghost long after you withdraw your hand. He was more self aware then he let on and knew that he was the least deserving man in Westeros of you warmth. He had committed and contributed to some of the most heinous things in human history and he was in no way shape of form asking for forgiveness nor a second chance of redemption. He was contempt with being a monster for it meant that people were less inclined to follow him, should the day come where he’d become king. Aegon would rather die then see that ceremony come to pass.

So when you suggested that he runs away, he couldn’t help but think about running away with you on his dragon to lands far, far away, never to be seen again. Making way for Aemond to become king in his stead, after all he was more educated and suited for such responsibilities whereas Aegon wasn’t. ‘Would you run away with me?’ Was a question he wanted to ask but refrained from doing so incase your answer was the unfavourable kind. Aegon knew he wasn’t worthy of you, there would be moments of vulnerability where he’d just collapse in your arms, tears wetting your shirt as he confesses to feeling a fraud; A liar within your presence and that if you were to find out the truth about him, you’d hate him like he wished you would. Anything to remove the possibility of hearing his heart crack when you are inevitably taken from him.

“There isn’t a land in Westeros or beyond that doesn’t know the history behind the name Targaryen.” Aegon replied sombrely, unable to keep eye contact with you as he looked elsewhere, “If I were to be free it would be with you, going where ever we want without fearing the irreparable damage to our families nor their expectations of what they want us to be. Somewhere we aren’t suffocated to being people we aren’t suited to become”. You didn’t say anything for a long while, allowing for Aegon’s words to sink into you skin. Forcing you to realise that even if he were to run, he would surly be dragged back to KingsLanding kicking and screaming all in thanks to the human greed for wealth. “So what’s your intended plan? Hide away in a cave somewhere for the rest of your life?” You questioned, bringing your eyes to meet the view before you. Aegon scoffs, “If it means never seeing KingsLanding ever again then so be it, anywhere is better then here.”

He then proceeds to sit himself up beside you, shoulder brushing shoulder, thigh brushing thigh as he stared out into the distance alongside you. “For I’d rather see people burn then be the one burning, I’d rather risk the livelihoods of others rather then give up my own in an act of heroism.” He glances out of his eye over to you to see that you were still staring out into the distance before clearing his throat, “It’s just not in me to become the king my mother wants and expects me to be.” He chuckled humorously at the irony of all of it. “Should she want that, she would be better off troubling Aemond with it then I. I maybe firstborn but that comes with being a scapegoat for your families issues.” Once again both of you were plummeted into a mutual silence. You didn’t know what to say that would make him feel any better. Instead you reached out your hand to hold his own to silently convey your feelings.

You knew you shouldn’t show much of a shred of remorse for a man as selfish as Aegon but yet the idea of being the one to free him from his own personal he’ll was enough to make you want to see this through, for better or for worse.