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#aegon ii fanfic
danytar · 2 days
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“Always” [ Prince!Aegon X Wife!Reader ]
Warnings: expletives, cussing, Unfaithful aegon,fondle breasts,vulgarity,sex,(m receiving), dark aegon,hedonistic, sm jealous ").
Summary: Your loving husband returns to your room in the middle of the night after his exciting adventures in the pleasure houses.
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It is known that your husband had a bad reputation in the court even your marriage to him did not prevent him from continuing his bad hobbies It wasn't a very terrible marriage but also not that perfect.
You and your husband have learned to understand each other he was so kind and sweet to you and when it comes to sex he's an expert and never leave you unsatisfied.
But there was a problem.. your jealousy and your possession you wanted him all for yourself something he didn't know and you didn't show. At first It was okay and you didn't have a problem with his actions because no matter how many women he sleeps with, he will always come back to you. he loved you but this was not enough to stop him.
Even though he told you hundreds of times that he loves you and all those whores mean nothing to him, you still insist that he does not love you.. that you was not enough for him.
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It was almost the midnight and you were in your chambers lying on your bed with a book in your hands reading in peace the air was cold and the room was a bit dark just the light of candles that are about to go out a little things made your day.
Your soft air was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom doorknob being turned. and there he was as usual a drunk and barely able to walk his clothes were dirty his silver locks were disheveled he smell reeked of sweat and cheap wine, not to mention the women ofc..
“you still awake? Were you waiting for me, my sweet love?”. He barely uttered his words he dragged himself towards your bed.
You put your book aside and sighed in frustration you looked at him with a disappointed look and a slight frown on your lips. “The brothel again?”.
He looked sheepish, his cheeks reddening, but he didn't seem all that remorseful. though, he had the sense to look away from you, his silence confirming that it was, indeed once again the brothel.
“Don't you feel ashamed of your actions? ”. You spoke to him in a serious tone this time because you were really fed up with his actions he was standing close to your bed but he looked at you and then said in a drunken tone:
“Why should I be ashamed? I did nothing wrong...” He laughed, but it was a nervous, shaky laugh.You could just hear him sigh through the silence following his reply.“I-” He pauses “It doesn't mean I dont love you-” He coughs, wiping the wine stained lips on his robes sleeve. “I cant help it... I just-”
“You have made us the laughing stock of the court”. you replied with a heavy sigh. He shrugs slightly, he's never had a problem with being laughed at before, he simply drank that feeling away too. “It doesnt matter... People laugh behind our backs anyway”.
He looks at you through heavy-ish eyes. He doesnt look at you like you are a mother scolding him, he looks at you like he is a boy getting rejected for the first time. It's a pathetic look, but he cant hold eye contact long enough for either of you to comment on it.
“Why are you here aegon? ”.
“What do you mean? Im here because I-” He sighs, his hands gripping the sheets as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Because I’m your husband!..”
“My husband changes his whores more than his clothes.”
He chuckles at that, finding your bluntness slightly humorous, not to mention it made him feel like he wasn't in such a hard spot. “...Thats not true”. He says, hoping you'll let it go at that.
When he tries to touch you, you move your hands away from him “Don't touch me or something”. you replied In a firm, almost broken voice.
He is visibly hurt by the rejection, but is too exhausted to even show the emotion to its fullest, he only slightly grimaced when you moved your hands away. He tries again, but doesnt say anything, begging you silently to forgive him for once or at least humour a kiss or something.
“You didn't even try to wash yourself off that shit.”
He sighs. “I...” He rubs his eyes, too tired to even say anything. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. It was like he knew he was too dirty to even deserve a kiss, and yet his desire and desperation to be loved overpowered that.
You quickly grab your book and ignore his presence. Aegon sighs, he didnt want to be ignored, even in the state he was in. “Darling...” He tried to reach for the book, wanting to gain your attention when you didn't answer him, he placed his head on your shoulder and looked at the page you were reading.
He groans slightly, wanting to at least get your attention.“I missed you y/n ” He sighs “Im tired and drunk and-” He pauses as if searching for the right answer, settling on the most honest one. “Lonely”.
“Why didn’t you bring your whores with you? Maybe they would fill your loneliness.” after your comment he feels himself boil, the rage boiling inside him. “Oh come on, its not the same, and you know it! Theyre not you, and they dont fill the void either, you know that...”
“Don't fool me aegon-” You push the sheets off and get out of bed when he saw you doing that he growls “Damn it, you know what Im talking about!”.
He is too tired to properly have this argument and he was trying desperately to get you to understand him. The silence was getting to him and he was starting to get angry and frustrated because he felt himself not being understood. “All I wanted was your company, and the first thing you ask me is about some brothel?!”
“I'm tired of your behavior! you're.... you're...” You paused for a moment to find the right word.
“I’m what?" He snaps, the anger finally boiling out of him. “What am I? Tell me!”
“A WHORE ”.
He scowls, the words stinging him like fire. "Shut your mouth!" He tries to sit up, but the alcohol makes him dizzy as he falls back. "Youre as much of a whore as I am, you know that right?!". He approaches you and grabs your arm tightly Even if he was a drunk, he is still stronger than you.
“You dare talk back to me! maybe I should put you in your place again wife”. He growled into your ear when you try to look at him he slaps you hard. You are surprised by the sudden slap. This is the first time he has raised his hand on you like that.
You do not let the slap go unnoticed, but return it to him harder which causes him to stumble backwards. He growls in pain when you returned his slap with a greater amount of force, his jaw slightly dropping with surprise.
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He takes a step backwards, but only because of the sharp pain that shoots across his cheek. He rubs his cheek for a bit, trying to soothe the sting. His eyes turn to you again, and you can still see the anger in his eyes. This was new.
His hand moves from your arm to your face and he grabs your cheek, his thumb feeling over the spot where he had struck you.
He narrows his eyes as he watches you, his thumb rubbing the mark he had left there. He is still filled with the rage of jealousy and bitterness, but he is also filled with sadness. He leans down, bringing his face only an inch from yours.
When you tried to evade his grip, he held you in place and pressed his lips firmly on yours, whether you liked it or not. The suddenness of his action caused you to stiffen, and in the moment of stiffness, you didnt immediately respond to his kiss.
He could feel every tensed muscle in your body and he relished in the feeling. It was as if you had been a puppet for him to control like they way he wanted to. It was a feeling of pure power, and he loved it.
He was still holding your face, keeping you in place when he wrapped his hands around your wrists, he gently guided them to his neck, wanting you to feel the power he had over you. He pressed his mouth on yours again, pushing his body into yours as his grip on you tightened.
He was feeling completely overwhelmed with power as he started to rip into your dresses. It felt good to finally show you who was truly in-charge. It wasnt your body nor your choice. It was his. He owned you. He tore off your dress, before taking you roughly to the bed.
He began to forcefully remove his clothes as he said “I know what my greedy wife wants.. she wants my cock only for herself ”.
“You know what I want, so why do you keep giving my rights to other women?”. He laughed and lay on top of you "I like to make you jealous." He said before he started nibbling and sucking your neck to your thighs.
"They're nothing...nothing like my wife's sweet pussy”. You mumbled and parted your legs he placed wet kisses on your thighs, reaching your sweet spot which he loves the most.Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue on you.
You tangled your fingers in his hair and let him give you his services. Even if he is clumsy and makes you angry, he has his own ways of making you feel good.
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After several rounds, you felt a terrible pain between your legs maybe the most Sweetest pain you have ever felt. Your head was on his chest while his arms were gently caressing your ass.
It was a moment of bliss and calm between the two of you.You were listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rising and falling slowly. He broke the silence by saying: “I will never see them again.”
“What? ”. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. He gently stroked your cheek with his other hand and looked at you “The pleasure houses.. I won't go again, I promise.. I realized how foolish I was.. I love you I don't want to lose you for the sake of random whores ”.
you looks at him with all the love you have.. “I love you too aegon”. He lifted his head to place a small kiss on your lips.
“Will you love me always? ”
“Always my love”.
He smilies.. “Can I pass out now?”. you chuckled and nodded he immediately closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. You kept your head on his chest, your fingers drawing random circles on it. You stayed like that for a short while until you passed out with him..
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♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii
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scaly-freaks · 10 hours
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The first art I ever did of Aegon and my OC from Burning Jasmine (in celebration of it hitting 2k kudos).
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Meant To Be
Chapter 6
Y/n and Aegon were born on the same day, with velvet eyes and white crowns. Y/n is sent to Oldtown by their mother to keep her pure. What happens when she doesn't return so? How will her twin react?
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Y/n was laid in a field of wildflowers. The wind dancing through the tall grass and flowers. The sun kissing her cheeks. Suddenly, a tightness overtook her throat. She began clawing at her throat in an attempt to relieve the pressure, but it seemed in vain. When her vision went black, she rose in her bed, sweat dripping from her hairline. She gasped and looked around her room for reassurance. When she realized she was in her room back at the Keep, she relaxed a bit. Still, she decided to request some wine be sent to her room and put her housecoat on to speak to the guards. However, when she opened the door, Xavier was waiting for her. She screamed and stumbled backwards, crashing into the table. He lunged at her and his hand encircled her throat. “You will never escape me”, he whispered in her ear. 
The princess bolted upright to find a maid trying to shake her awake, “Your grace, are you alright?” Y/n pushed her hands away and tried to adjust her eyes to the morning sun. “How long was I asleep”, the princess asked, while the maid wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. “You slept through dinner and the night, your grace. Your mother asked we let you rest.” Y/n nodded and stood up to be washed of the sweat and dressed by the maids. Afterward, still shaken from her dreams, the princess visited her mother’s chambers. “Y/n, how are you, my love?” Alicent raised both arms to her elder daughter. Y/n sunk into her mother’s hold, “y/n? You look white as a ghost.”
“Mother…I-”, y/n was interrupted by a guard entering the room. “Your grace”, he bowed, “the maester has asked for you in the king’s chambers.” She nodded and looked to her daughter, caressed her cheek, “We will speak later, dear.” Alicent kissed y/n’s forehead and stood to follow the guard to Viserys’s chambers. Y/n watched her walk out of the room and sighed. Will he haunt her forever? She knows she is safe, her uncle made sure of his death, and now she is with her family. Her mother wouldn’t let anything happen while she is within her grasp. She decided to go to the Sept, maybe the gods will bring a sense of calm to her. 
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“Stupid, stupid, stupid”, Aegon gradually shouted in his chambers, kicking a candle stand over, then falling onto his bed face first. Why did he have to open his mouth? It isn’t like anyone was asking him to say those things, especially y/n. Y/n…he doesn’t deserve her. She’s too perfect and proper for him. He should just put an heir in her and stick to the whores of flea bottom. That’s all he’s good at. He looked over to the drawer that held his peasant clothes. Not that he needed them, with the white hair and all, and the whores always welcomed their favorite cock…at least the coin that had come with it. He rose from the bed and changed into them. Before climbing out of his window, he secured a pouch of coins to his belt. Tonight, he was going to do as he pleased. 
The prince made his way to flea bottom, specifically one of the more curious whorehouses. After fucking two women, he laid on his back with them cuddled up to his sides, feeding him and keeping his goblet full. He was curious of the woman on display, nude, and inserting the handle of a blade into herself. She was loud and fake, but that didn’t stop his mind wondering how y/n was in bed. “Shall I suck your cock, my prince”, one of the girls asked. He grabbed her by the throat and kissed her deeply, when departed, he whispered, “I’ll put a prince’s bastard in you.” At this she climbed onto his lap, lined him up, and sunk herself onto him. She let out a fake moan like the other girl had been doing, and Aegon huffed, putting his hands on her waist to quicken her pace. When she let out another exaggerated moan, he picked her up off of him and shoved her to the floor, where he stuffed his cock down her throat. 
“Now I don’t have to hear you”, Aegon grunted out, the sounds of her choking being music to his ears. When he finished, he pushed her off of him, collected his clothes, dropped a bag of coins, and left the whorehouse into the morning sun. “Always happy to house our favorite prince for the night”, the madam said as he walked out. He walked towards the Keep, however, he felt the need to go to the Sept. He had never cared for the gods, why would they be calling him of all people? At the last turn, he decided to go to the Sept. The room was dark and musty smelling. People shuffled around like they couldn’t make noise for fear the gods would strike them where they stand. Then he saw her, y/n was on her knees, praying to the gods. What would she need to pray to the gods for? 
Then he noticed the tear stains on her cheeks and the quiet sobs threatening to leave her mouth as she whispered her prayer.
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Y/n heard someone walking in her direction and suddenly turned to them. Aegon. What is he doing here?
“Y/n”, Aegon looked puzzled, “are you alright?”
Y/n hadn’t noticed she was crying until he changed her thoughts. She turned back to the candles and said, “yes. I just felt the power of the gods come over me.” She wiped her tears with the backs of her hands. 
“I don’t believe you.” She looked scared and small to him. He decided to sit beside her with his back to the table holding all the candles. She looked into his eyes, but stayed quiet. His hand reached to wipe her cheek of a fresh tear, and she fell into him, sobbing. He just held her, not knowing what to do for her. 
When she had calmed a bit, she pushed herself off of him, “Sorry, I-.” She couldn’t finish her sentence, or she would cry again. She stood and started walking back to the keep. Aegon quickly rose and caught up to her quickly. Holding onto her arms, out of breath from getting up so quickly, “Y/n, what’s wrong?” She opened her mouth, however, no words could exit. She just stared into his eyes. Could she trust him? With her mind intact currently, she decided to get a proper look at him. He smells of wine and sex, he just came from flea bottom. Maybe he is as cruel and sick as the people say. “Prince Aegon, Princess Y/n, your mother has requested your presence”, the guard who had come with y/n said after receiving word from another.
Taglist : @watercolorskyy, @xitsemm, @d3nny,
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nyrasbloodyclover · 10 months
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"i'm team black" "i'm team green"
well i am neither because i choose my teams with my pussy and not my moral compass
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lovelykhaleesiii · 3 months
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Hello!!! For the requests, can I request one for Aegon II? Pregnancy kink and maybe some family fluff with reader and Aegon's kids?
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Divine Honour.
PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader
WORDS: 1,515.
WARNINGS: domesticity, references of p in v sexual intercourse, pregnancy kink/breeding kink, lactation kink, breast play, swearing, possessive!Aegon ii, slight exhibitionism.
A/N - literally anything that involves Aegon with kids, domesticity and breeding/pregnancy kink is my weakness... I am a whore like that. hope you enjoy, I've combined these two requests :) also dedicating this as a little gift to you all in honour of the King's bday!!!!
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"Father! When can we choose an egg for the babe? Meraxes has laid a fresh clutch!"
"How much longer must we wait for this babe?!"
"B-Bub!"
The uproar of their high-pitched, eager voices left Aegon defeated, as he swiftly picked his youngest in his bulky arms, lifting the little princess onto his seated lap, where she settled herself comfortably. Babbling incomprehensible sounds [as she was still yet a babe herself, only able to muster a few coherent words] and idly pointing at your round, swollen belly. Your elder sons on the other hand, twins nonetheless, found themselves encircling their father like hounds, pouncing at his sides, desperate for answers, as you waddled yourself over to the edge of the royal bed, where they outnumbered Aegon.
"How many times must I tell you this, boys? When the babe is ready to come, it will come! Any day now, you'll have either a baby brother or little sister that you can dote on and protect for hours on end... Is that understood?"
The silver-haired boys both ecstatically eyed each other, giddy with excitement and anticipation for the newest arrival into the family, refusing to stand still. Turning towards you, your youngest only a few minutes apart from his elder, Rhaego, warmly embraced your side, careful with his grip around your protruding belly.
"You will find us when the babe is coming? Promise us, mother, that you will!"
The streak of worry tinged across his small, growing face, was enough to melt your heart. He was your exact twin, with some of Aegon's Valyrian-esque features. A smaller boy than his brother, and far more emotionally attached to you.
"Of course, my love. I will need you by my side, okay?"
"Now the lot of you, off to bed! Your mother needs her rest-"
Aegon's deep, stern voice clouded the room, before being met with the sighs and sounds of defeat from his twin boys. Gesturing for your lady in waiting, Sara, to make herself present: leading the boys, Rhaego and Aenys, out, as you warmly kissed each goodnight. Your littlest babe remained safe and sound, wrapped in Aegon's arms, desperately trying to stay awake, as she drifted in and out of sleep.
"And this little princess—”
The sudden drop in his tone, speaking in a volume only above a whisper, and far more softer, was enough to prove that your little girl was Aegon's weakness.
"My little Aelora, just doesn't want to sleep. She has far too much fun with her Daddy."
He plants a tender peck on her head, as she brightly smiles up at her father, taking much of his likeness, before rubbing her small eyes with her tiny fists, edging closer to slumber.
"Here—Here, she just needs her mother's boring touch to put her to sleep”, you tauntingly exclaim.
In exchange for his amusement, you take the babe in your arms, cradling her above your belly, as you gently sway her, lulling her to sleep. Aegon finds himself walking towards the edge of the bed, as he begins to undress, unbuttoning his tunic. Watching you from a meek distance, he feels a palpable twitch beneath the dark fabric of his pants, feels more tighter than he had noticed moments before. His thick cock stirring with excitement, as he witnesses the surreal vision of you holding his babe, whilst carrying his other unborn child.
"You truly are a divine sight, my love... You've never looked more beautiful than you do now."
His heavy words caught your immediate attention, as your focus pans from the sleeping babe to Aegon, looking rather ravenously at you. Although his orbs a light lilac shade, his gaze felt rather dark and menacing, his plump, cherry lips licked and glazing in the candle light. He looked as though he could devour you right there and then, you were rather familiar with this particular sight of your husband.
"Is that so?" You softly chuckle, turning from Aegon to the silent babe, before resuming your attention once more unto him.
"I do not feel so. I feel I am at my heaviest, Aeg. You honestly do not mean to say I am-"
Pouncing to stand, his heavy and heated footsteps pace towards you, a firm grip tugging at your silky night gown by your hips.
"Speak no more, Y/N. You cannot fathom how irresistible you look to me in this very instance... Put her down, I think she's deep in her sleep now, Mumma."
The firmness in his deep voice, almost a mimic of a growling predator, was an occurrence you saw in court, with your husband upholding his position as King. Aegon had established himself as a formidable man, despite the doubts surrounding his succession. You obeyed his command, gently lowering Aelora into her crib, as you nestled the babe in her minuscule, handwoven duvet.
"Come here—”
Gesturing you towards the end of the bed, his wolfish eyes lingered over your every inch, every detail of exposed skin, his hands wandering in sync with the insatiable lust in his eyes, as though it was your wedding night all over again.
"You think you do not look divine? Carrying my precious babe not only in your arms, but in your womb as well? Do you not think it an honour to carry and bear the seed of the King? Need I fuck you s'more and plenty, my dearest. Swelling you with as many children as your body can take, for you to understand your significance, hmm?"
Thoughtless against his lust-filled words, you hadn't even realised how swift and deliberate Aegon's sensual movements were, snaking his sturdy arms around your swollen, tender body, weak against your husband's touch. His soft lips latched to your tender skin, suckling at the sweet crevices of your neck, feeling your Grace slowly making his way carefully down, towards your busting cleavage, as he sat himself down by the end of the bed, pulling you closer towards him, trapped between his thickly sprawled thighs.
"Does your King not make you feel good? Have I failed you as your sovereign and as a husband, hmm? Need I spoil you more than I have already?"
Candidly unbuttoning the few clasps of your low-cut ivory nightgown, your tender, perky breasts instantly exposed themselves to your Grace, each tit filling with milk in preparation for the royal babe. The wintry, crisp air of the night left your skin crawling with chills, and Aegon's calloused hands, groping at each breast did not numb the feeling at all.
"N-No- Ahh, Aeg—"
"So fucking sensitive, look at you... I did this, I did this to you, you do well to remember that—"
"Y-Yes, y-your Grace," You feebly whimper, one hand firmly clasped over Aegon's broad shoulder and the other tangled in the short strands of his platinum locks: desperate to keep composure, as he taunts your delicate body. Flicking his thumb over the peaking buds of your raw, sensitive nipples, deeply chuckling to himself as he earns a helpless moan from you.
"Your body knows exactly how to take, my beloved. Knows what it is expected of, made to take my seed so fucking well, huh? Look at how steady your belly grows day by day, our babe kicking healthily inside... How these tits swell with that sweet, heavenly milk of yours, hmm? You were born for this, my dear. Made ripe for the taking of the King himself."
Without a second to spare, not even so much for a breath, Aegon's ravenous mouth latched itself onto your breast. His warm, slick tongue flicking at your nipple, suckling fiercely, eager for a drop of flavour. Instinctively your hands immediately drop onto his hefty shoulders, nails digging into the thick padding of his apparel. As you gradually grew more accustomed to the exhilarating sensation, your hands travelled their way back up, busying themselves by tugging and pulling at his silver strands: occasionally even guiding Aegon's head deeper into your bosom, keen to satisfy your King's insatiable hunger.
M-My body at th-the disposal of th-the King... The g-greatest honour b-bestowed. K-Keep fucking me, keeping m-me full of his seed—"
The mouth clasped tightly around your breast, a hand remained groping, kneading at your swollen flesh, whilst his other roamed below, firmly squeezing and palming at your ass cheek.
His stout chest heaving breathlessly, as he regained himself: Aegon's mesmerizingly violet eyes fluttered shut momentarily, before gazing upon you intently, a sly smirk strewed across his handsome face.
"Hmm, that's right, my beloved... We might even populate the Red Keep alone, and everyone will know exactly who you answer to... Everyone shall know that I be the man who fucks you hard time and time again, how well your pretty cunt takes my cock and seed. And when your body shows, everyone will know how willing your body is craving to be full of me. My beloved loves the attention from her King, yes?"
"I do, Aeg."
"And I love you... And the children, even the ones you will bear in time... I love you, just as you are."
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general taglist - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1
Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11
credit for divider - @/firefly-graphics
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targaryen-dynasty · 7 months
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SWEET POISON.
Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader
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Cregan Stark was a decent man, but your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. Yet you were ignoring him to keep the liaison between you a secret – much to your uncle's infuriation.
WORDS: 2.7 K
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle x niece), (semi) public sex, p in v, slight fingering, dacryphilia, slight petting, humiliating, degrading, choking, spitting, mean/dark/jealous/possessive!Aegon, female Reader (with Targaryen traits -> silver hair, lilac eyes)
NOTES: Written for @lovelykhaleesiii 🥰 You prefer the uncle x niece trope? Say no more! Thank you so much! 🤭
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The arrangement between you and Cregan Stark made more than sense to tie the North to your mother’s side of the family. Especially if Aegon should ever choose to assert his claim to the Iron Throne, despite not being appointed heir by your grandsire. 
It was a good plan, and nothing more than a political arrangement. 
You had met Cregan once before the King’s official announcement of your betrothal and the supper he hosted in honor of it, and while he was a decent man, your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. 
All evening you had to endure the cold stare of Aegon. And while his eyes usually were glued to you with a certain softness that caused you to get lost in them, they did nothing more than burn with fury at the end of the feast. 
But the announcement of your betrothal was not the trigger, you had informed Aegon beforehand a few nights ago. It was the way you clung to Cregan’s hand as he guided you to the dance floor. The way you smiled and laughed whenever the Stark made a joke. And if this didn’t fuel his jealousy, you not paying any attention to him at all certainly did. 
The whole night long.
It wasn’t that you were ashamed of the match made for you, but you were just too afraid to look at Aegon once you’d noticed your mistake, for your uncle was known to be quick to anger and slow to forgive. And you weren't sure if you were ready to face the dragon’s wrath. 
The liaison between you was a secret. You were sure your mother and stepfather would feed you to their dragons, if it were to become known to them that your uncle had broken your maidenhead the night you turned ten-and-nine. But the agreement of secrecy seemed to be long forgotten by said uncle, his jealousy clearly taking over. 
It was no surprise that, when you eventually exited the throne room as the feast was nearing its end, a shadow in the form of Aegon trailed behind you like a predator waiting for the right moment to seize its prey. 
And seizing you he did, once the hallways became more dimly lit and lonelier. 
There was an urgency in him when he not-so-gently fisted your hair to pull you back, shoving you into one of the keeps alcoves. He didn’t have to speak first, as there was no need for him to phrase what bothered him. You knew all too well what plagued his mind.  
“He–We–We are betrothed,” you whimpered, lips pulling into a pout while your head was firmly pressed against the stone wall of the alcove by Aegon’s hand around your throat, “do not be mad at me.”
Your heart was racing, pounding against the confines of your ribcage with Aegon’s large hand trailing over the bodice of your dress, fisting the skirts of it to lift it enough for his hand to snake underneath. “Are you really sulking now?” he growled, breath reeking of Arbor red as it fanned over your face. His thumb started to circle over the dampened spot in the center of your smallclothes, teasing your little bud. Your small hand reached for his wrist, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to claw his hand off your throat or if you used the grip to keep yourself grounded. 
The sound of pleasure that left your lips was the epitome of pathetic, and the volume of it had embarrassment coloring your cheeks and neck in a bright red. Your bottom lip trembled, and, despite the pleasurable sensations that rippled through your core at the ministrations of his thumb, you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. “Y-Yes!” you all but whined, though you tried your best to keep your voice low considering you were still kind of out in the open, barely shielded by the alcove. 
Aegon flashed you a lazy smirk when you focused your eyes from the bawdy tapestry hanging on the wall behind him, finally meeting his eyes. “Then quit the sulking before I give you something to sulk about, niece.” 
It was well-known that Aegon was not a proficient warrior, unlike his younger brother, yet this did not mean that he wasn’t strong. His grip on your throat was tight enough to lock you in place, rendering you immobile, and when he placed one thigh between yours, you knew all hope for you was lost.  
“Mayhaps I must drag you back to the Throne Room…,” he muttered, tilting his head to the side as he assessed you, watching your eyes grow wide with fear. “... bend you over the table to claim you in front of everyone. Mayhaps this will show my half-sister that you belong to me.” 
You tried to cower, lilac eyes flickering between the emeralds on his gold chain and his mocking expression. “Gods,” you breathed, the thought sending shivers down your spine, “p-please, no–” Your words were cut off by your own gasp when two of his thick digits pushed the linen of your smallclothes aside to scarcely drag through your soaked mound, barely using any of your arousal to slide inside without a warning.
But, as quick as his fingers had entered you, they withdrew again, resuming to rubbing your little bud.
“P-Please,” Aegon mocked with a dry chuckle, pushing his lips into a pout to mimic the one you had made before, “you are so pretty when you beg.” The backhanded compliment seemed to be enough to dull your inhibitions, allowing a warmth sensation to bubble in the pit of your stomach. “I know you like it, sweetling,” his head dips forward, looking you down with a sharp expression, “when I treat you like the common whore you are, taking right after your mother.” 
And just like that, the warmth vanished, bringing you back to the cold reality and the predicament you had found yourself in. Perhaps you should have seen it coming sooner, having witnessed all the oh so cruel jokes he had made at the expense of his own kin, his younger brother. But why did a part of you crave his cruelness so much? 
Your body was torn between feeling a hunger for him and being humiliated by him, the interplay of both leaving you utterly confused. When you turned your head to the side to escape his mocking stare, and hide the tears rolling down your cheeks, Aegon was quick to force you to meet his gaze again, his hand releasing your throat, so his fingers could not-so-gently dig into your cheeks. 
“You look at me when you cry,” he commanded, seemingly enjoying the power he held over you, compensating for something he lacked in his everyday life. “Those tears belong to me,” he said, gathering some of them with the pad of his thumb, “just like this sweet cunt of yours. You belong to me, not to that cunt of a Stark. Am I understood?”
When you didn’t answer, he spoke again, but not without spitting on your cheek first, feeding the shame and the humiliation you felt. 
“Am I understood?” 
Your face grew burning hot with the realization of what he had done, your mouth agape, but before he could spit on you for a second time, you were quick to manage a short whimper of ‘y-yes.’
His lilac eyes were dark blown, a perverted desire flickering in them, and letting you know you were right about the dragon’s wrath. He loomed over you like a vulture, and shielded your small frame from the few people passing the alcove on their way.
“You are so fortunate, little niece. Do you know what other ladies would do to be in your place, to be desired by the future King of the Seven Kingdoms? And how many other ladies would want to be you right now?” You couldn’t bring yourself to correct him, stating that your mother was proclaimed heir long before he was born, as you were too afraid to make your misery even worse. “Many noble lords would kill for their daughter to take your place,” he said, “you should thank me for only wanting you.”
You swallowed thickly, and your voice betrayed you. Instead of giving him the answer he desired, a pathetic moan slipped past your lips, only topped by your legs buckling beneath your weight at the impact of his words, of his possessiveness. His hand found your throat again, keeping you steady. 
“Lo iksā daor jāre naejot gaomagon skoros vestran, nyke kessa jurnegon syt iā riña bona kessa.” The High Valyrian slipped past his lips with so much ease, the shock on your face was evident. Never before had you heard him speak the tongue of your ancestors, not even knowing if he could speak it. But the smoothness of his voice, and the lack of accent, made it clear the lazy prince had been a dutiful scholar. “Āeksio Borros iksis gīmigon naejot emagon izula tali. Kostilus mēre hen zirȳ kessa gaomagon.” If you are not going to do what I say, I shall look for a lady that will. Lord Borros is known to have four daughters. Perhaps one of them will do. 
Even though no one would know he casted you aside for one of the Four Storms, you resented the thought and the shame it would bring you. “No,” you pleaded, more tears brimming in your eyes, causing your vision to grow blurry. “B–But please let us take this to your chambers,” you whined, “I am scared of someone seeing us.... me.” 
“Silence,” Aegon purred, his tone a stark contrast from the harsh one he had used prior. He bowed his head forwards to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, licking up the tears that had run down, before his lips pressed a kiss to your temple. “But in my apartments no one will know you are mine, sweetling.”
So lost in the softness of his voice and the warmth of his breath, you hardly registered him undoing the laces in his breeches, only just lowered enough for him to free his hard cock. Once that was done, he lifted one of your thighs to wrap it around his hip, which brought you close enough to his cock to feel it prodding against your cunt. 
“We–We can’t,” you tried to protest, wiggling out of his grasp. But Aegon was adamant, keeping his hand locked around your thigh as he solely relied on the hardness of his cock to breach your core instead of using his hand to guide it in. “Not here… please, uncle,” your voice was reduced to a whimper, and the despair audible. A thousand thoughts flashed before your eyes, the most prominent one being either your mother and stepfather, or even Cregan himself, finding you mid-act. 
“I decide where I take you,” he growled your name in a condescending manner, displaying his raw need to prove himself and show the dominance he held over you, “and if I wanted to fuck you in the small council chamber during a meeting, then so be it.”
You released a shuddered breath, and the memories of the delicious stretch his cock brought you clouded your mind to the point you couldn't intervene, only to be revived a split second later with him slowly but surely pushing in. Every ridge and vein of his cock dragged along your inner walls, not making the burning of the stretch any more pleasurable than the countless times he had had you before. 
He tilted your head back to expose your throat to him, allowing him to nibble your skin as he started to thrust his hips into yours. His teeth dragged along your throat over to the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he left any marks or not – even if he did, you didn’t care at this point. 
The snaps of his hips weren’t particularly fast or harsh, but deep and determined enough to make your breathing hiccup each time the tip of his cock brushed the sweet spot within you. When one thrust seemed a bit rougher than the others, you released a moan that was a tad too loud for your own liking, but alas, the man in front of you didn’t think so, and was quick to change his pace to coax even louder sounds of pleasure from you. 
“Be quiet,” the silver haired prince teased, yet he didn’t do anything to stifle or mitigate your moans, “we do not want to raise any more attention, do we?” The tone of his voice was so wicked, and you damn well knew that was exactly what he wanted. If anyone was to see you two, nothing would stand in his way to get you all for himself. Not Cregan Stark, and not even your stepfather himself, the Rogue Prince. 
It was far too easy for him to lose himself in you. Despite some people passing you two, exchanging hushed whispers or releasing disgusted gasps, he couldn’t stop entering you over and over as you bit back on every sound of bliss his thrusts issued forth from your lips. 
The hand that cupped your cheek was put behind your head to support it, and allow him to thrust harder into you, each thrust forcing you against the cold stone wall. Perhaps it was the possibility of being caught by your own kin, or being defiled by him so openly, but your peak approached you far too quickly, more so as he adjusted his hips and brought your other leg up around his waist to make his cock reach an angle that had you gasping, whining and clenching around him ever so tightly. 
“Go on,” he rasped, tilting his head forwards slightly to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear, harshly biting down on your earlobe once. “Be a good girl and wet my cock, niece.”
It seemed that all your encounters before had taught your uncle one valuable lesson, because, when you eventually did what he said and your peak crashed over you with soaring pleasure, he moved his hand to clasp it over your mouth to stifle all the moans and whines that escaped your throat. You were loud when peaking, and perhaps that was even too loud for the corrupted prince. 
“That’s it,” he purred, “making a mess all over my cock. Just how I like it.”
With a grunt, he reached between your bodies to rub your little bud, prolonging your high and intensifying the feeling of your body erupting in flames as your arousal dripped down his twitching cock. 
Your cunt squeezed Aegon tight enough for him to reach his peak with one final thrust, and, when his cock spent itself deep inside of your trembling walls, his hips stilled. It surprised you he didn’t pull out right after, staying nestled inside of you just a few moments longer until his breathing settled back to normal. 
Your senses came back slowly, until it didn’t feel like a haze anymore, and made you terribly aware of what had happened. His hands ran over your arse before he lowered you back on the ground, a smug smirk gracing his features. 
“Do you know that once I am king, I shall fly North to claim what is mine. You. And I do not care if I must burn down Winterfell or feed that Northerner to Sunfyre. I will come and I will take you.” The determination with which he said it rendered you speechless, as it was far from the Aegon you got to know growing up, and you feared for what the future might hold. 
That night in your chambers, when you had changed into a black shift, you stood in front of the mirror and watched your reflection. Upon looking more closely at your neck, you spotted a purplish bruise right at your throat, and it appeared that mayhaps your uncle’s wish might be fulfilled sooner than anticipated when you had to face your mother in the morrow to break your fast.
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arcielee · 1 month
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Fare Well
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Photo credit.
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Summary: You visit Aegon after another council meeting ends. Paring: Aegon Targaryen x female!reader Word Count: 1600+ Warnings: Reader AFAB, knifeplay, object penetration, kissing, p in v, creampie, using intercourse as an escape from reality. Author’s Note: Listen, the new trailer came out and our muses are buzzing again. This smutty piece was inspired by this story by @valeskafics as well as this beautiful edit by the beautiful @bucknastysbabe. The title is from Hozier, as you all should come to expect now, and this can also be read on ao3. This is dedicated to @f4ll-for-you, my wonderful Tumblr kindred spirit who made me into the Aegon girly I am today. 💜 A huge thank you to @targaryen-dynasty for beta reading and making sure this all made sense. 💜 Enjoy!
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“What troubles you, your grace?”
You had remained in the shadows and listened to the voices grow louder, though still muted through the walls, with their worries of what was to come next. They exited one by one, the morose men chosen to serve the king’s council, with the lord commander of the kingsguard escorting the queen dowager donned in green, her eyes downcast and her expression etched with her perpetual worry since her lord husband had passed. The lord hand was the last to leave, his face lined and wearied, his slow gate returning him to the tower where he would–as Aegon confided to you–continue to pen letters to garner support across the realm. 
It was only then that you dared to enter the room. You saw Aegon was seated at the head of the table, his violet gaze placed on the Valyrian dagger in his hands, the iron and rubies that once belonged to the Conqueror gleaming above him. 
The sun was streaking through the windows behind, giving him a kingly glow. His hair was a shade lighter and his cheeks sunkissed from the hours aback Sunfyre; despite the threat beyond the horizon, you knew that Aegon enjoyed patrolling the skies with his brothers.
It was these little confessions that he shared with you in the clandestine moments stolen within the walls of the Red Keep. He told you how he wished to be distracted, to allow a reprieve for his mind that weighed heavy with this anointed crown, and you were just this distraction, flesh and blood pulsing with your desire. 
It was then he looked up to see you still shyly posted in the doorway. “You seemed troubled, your grace,” you repeated with kindness, with concern. 
“I am now always troubled, it feels,” his smile was forced. “It seems to be something that comes with the weight of this.” He removed the crown and it echoed dully as he dropped it on the table. “But perhaps you can serve your king.” 
Your foot pushed the door until it closed soundly, and you took a step towards him. For a moment you saw the boy you had grown up with, mischievous and smirking, peering up at you from beneath the title of king. “This is why I am here,” your reply was sultry, and you saw how the black began to swallow the color of his eyes. “To serve, your grace.” 
Aegon sheathed the dagger and set it aside his crown before slouching back to spread his legs wider in the ornate chair he sat. Your stomach tightened at the sight of his thick outline against his thigh, pressing through his slacks, and you felt the flutter of that desire trilling your spine, spilling back into your veins. 
Your heart vibrated beneath and his lips curled upwards when he noticed where your eyes fell. His large hand patted his thigh. 
The gesture summoned you and you moved within his arms reach. He pulled you onto his lap, his face burying into the curve of your neck with a groan, a deep inhale that tickled. “Your grace,” you giggled, squirming in his hold, your blood warming your skin. 
“It is only us now,” he murmured against your skin, “and all I wish now is  to tear away these layers, lay you on this table, and have what lies beneath your finery.” 
“You would not dare,” you whispered, your eyes bright. 
His fingers dug into your hip while his other hand snaked under your thighs to lift you up from his seat. You giggled again, your arm quick to wrap around his neck to brace for his step forward as he set you on the edge of the table. His hands pawed at your layers, searching to find the dagger and he began to slice through your fabric.  
Your surprise spilled from your lips. “Aegon!”
He did not falter, but sheathed it and set it back down so his hands could grab fistfuls, tearing away the fabric to allow you room to part your thighs and welcome him. Your hands moved from his chest and combed through his hair, smoothing the indent left behind from his crown. He hummed from your touch, his hands moving from your hips and following your curves to your backside, pulling you closer so he could tilt his chin forward and capture your lips. 
His kiss devoured you wholly, pulling the air from your lungs with the dizzyingly desperation of his lips against your own. Your arms wrapped again around his neck and you rolled your hips for friction against the warmth he emitted through his royal garb, your fingers clawing at the fabric. 
You could feel his smile against your lips, his fingers returning to his hold on your hips. The outside of his palm rested on the dip and his thumbs pressed to the bone, eliciting a pleasure that jolted through you. You moaned softly and his mouth broke away, wet kisses that now trailed along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the slope of your neck. 
“Aegon,” you could not help but whine, and you tightened your legs around his hips. 
He turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, flushed. For a moment you were lost in his heady gaze, only brought back once you felt his hand trailing the detailing of your bodice and pressing until you laid back on the table. His other hand retrieved the dagger once more and your smallclothes were cut away, the air crisp against the slick between your thighs. 
“So wet for me already,” he clucked his tongue, “and I have barely begun.” 
Your stuttered response only further goaded him. His brow cocked. “What was that?” 
“Please,” you licked your lips. “Touch me, Aegon. Please.”
The darkness in his eyes glittered with the sunlight, and his satisfaction curled across his square jaw. “No. Not quite yet.” 
Before you could protest, you felt the pressure of something that was smooth, almost cool to the touch. You peered down to see the sheathed dagger pressed sideways to your bare cunt, the ruby stone sliding against the slick, the blossom of your arousal allowing him a circular motion of the gemstone against the bundle of nerves.  
You shuddered in response, your skin rising on your thighs and chest, and your head fell back, your hands pressing flat on the polished wood to anchor yourself. The unfamiliar touch began to build a familiar sensation, something that fluttered throughout, catching your exhale in your throat. 
“Aegon,” you cried, his name spilling sickly sweet from your lips, an endearment with the desperation of your tone. 
“Let me,” he soothed, his voice rasped with his intent focus. 
He moved the hilt and its decorative ridges rubbed along your swollen nerves. You squealed with the touch and then the intrusion, feeling his palm press to the inside of your thigh. “Trust me,” he whispered, his eyes boring between your thighs. You relaxed to his touch, feeling the curve of the handle pressing sweetly within you.
It sparked lights before your eyes and Aegon was pleased. He moved his thumb to replace where the gemstone rubbed enticingly before, matching the tandem of the hilt that now pulled you upwards to the prior peak and then past. It filled your chest, a bursting euphoria that pulsed your walls around the handle.
“Sȳz riña,” his voice low with his praise. Good girl.
Your head lifted, drowsy, and you saw him touch the glossy shine that now covered the hilt, his fingers showing the sticky web of your climax. His eyes met with yours as he showed you, and his eyebrows raised when you pushed to sit up, your hand gently covering his own to pull it towards your lips, licking the ruby and tasting yourself.  
It clattered to the cobblestone and his free hand now grabbed the nape of your neck, his lips finding yours with his returned desperation. Fingers collided to loosen his drawstrings, your hands pulling his cock free and guiding his blunt head to press against your silk entrance. 
His large hand wrapped around the base and you cant your hips, angling yourself so his cock can slowly sink into your wet warmth. You mewled from the delicious stretch and he shuddered once he was fully buried between your thighs. Aegon paused, stealing a kiss, a taste of tenderness on his lips as he began to rock against you. 
It started slow with a low groan spilling from his kiss swollen slips as he watched his cock disappear inside you again and again. He savored the lewd sounds, your soft cries as he pushed deeper within you, your fingers grasping to hold yourself upright, to remain as close to him as possible. 
Your body still simmered with your prior release and it did not take much to build again. His hips snapped against yours with the wet sound of skin to skin, and your walls began to flutter. It is a breathless chorus, your soft gasps and his low groan, your pleasure pulling with a creamy spill of passion that tightened around him, his cock pulsing hotly within you. 
You fell back to your elbows, trying to catch your breath, and Aegon slumped over, his damp brow pressing to yours, the mess of his golden waves falling across your face. His scent washed over you, exotic oils that were sent as gifts and the sheen of sweat on his skin. 
The council chambers are noiseless now, and you hold still under the dimming candles lit for the chandelier above. It is another clandestine moment stolen, where your hearts thrummed in unison before slowing back to their regular pace, pulling you back to the heavy reality that settled in the quiet.
It lingered in the shadows, the faraway thought, the threat beyond the horizon, the echoed worries returning of what will come next. 
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spider-stark · 18 days
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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 //
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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.
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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).
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zaldritzosrose · 24 days
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Make Me Want To Sin (Aegon x Betrothed!Reader)
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Summary: He'd heard it so often, it must be true. "It's still innocent if our clothes stay on". And Aegon has every intention of living by that, especially with a betrothed as beautiful as you.
(Thank you to @lynnbeth5172 for sending me the most Aegon coded tweet ever!)
TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, dry humping, fingering, mentions of loss of virginity, innuendo, profanity, Aegon being himself.
Words: 1743
No beta because I like living on the edge!
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Aegon counted himself lucky. Not only had his betrothed been chosen for him, but marriage had also never been something he’d sought out himself. But his mother had chosen someone beautiful. One of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, he’d wager, and Aegon had see a lot of women.
You were a lady of a Great House, as expected. His marriage was never going to be one of love and romance, Aegon knew that. He was a prince after all. Though romance wasn’t really his forte, he had to admit it.
Pleasure. That’s where his expertise lay, in his own opinion. And you were sweet and chaste. A follower of the Faith, nothing more could be expected from someone chosen for him by his mother. Of course, she’d want someone like that.
Aegon, however, found every excuse to tease and tempt you.
“Come now, my dear, I have heard it said time and time again,” Aegon cooed, his fingers linking with yours as you walked the gardens, “As long as we remain clothed, it is all innocent.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d tried this. Stolen kisses in secluded hallways were one thing, but you’d had it ingrained into you that you needed to remain pure for your wedding. Meaning, of course, no intimacy. But Aegon was determined. He knew, from the way you’d sigh his name whenever he’d touch you a little more intimately or kiss you a little harder, that you wished for it as much as he did.
But you were a far less sinful person than he was.
“And I have told you, it is tradition for a betrothed couple to wait until their wedding night.” You answered, not hiding the roll of your eyes.
Four months you had been betrothed and Aegon was insatiable. But never forceful. Something that had surprised you, based on the stories you’d heard. And maybe, that was what slowly broke your resolve. Not that he knew it was breaking.
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Two week until your wedding, that was all that remained. But Aegon seemed even more impatient. You took it as a compliment, of course. Or at least, he would tell you that you should. That he was so hopelessly attracted to you that he couldn’t wait a moment longer to have you.
Each compliment, each lingering touch, each flirtatious whisper in your ear at dinner, was breaking down your wall more and more. And Aegon knew it.
When you didn’t chastise him for the way his hand now rested on your silk covered thigh at dinner, he knew he was getting closer to his goal. He wanted you to want him as he did you.
His fingers squeezed at your flesh ever so slightly, watching as the pink flush crept up your chest and higher to your cheeks. But you didn’t ask him to stop, as you usually did. Aegon took a little confidence in that, slowly drifting his hand higher until he stopped short of the apex of your thighs. Inches from where he wanted to be the most.
“Aegon…” you warned, and he simply flashed you that smile you had grown to love.
His hand remained where it was for the rest of the dinner, but he knew he could get a little further next time.
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It was a week until your wedding now and your willpower was almost at its end. It seemed like now, everything Aegon did in your presence was arousing. And he could see it. How your eyes would linger on his hands when they held his wine cup, or on his lips when he spoke. He had you, almost.
Aegon was sat in the library with Aemond, though the younger prince was the only one reading. Aegon came here because you enjoyed it and spending time with you was what he enjoyed. The corner you had chosen was quiet and as Aemond wandered away in search of something else to read, Aegon saw his opportunity.
With a gentle pull, he tugged you from your chair to his lap, revelling in the small squeak of surprise you let out.
“Aemond could return any moment...” you whispered, trying desperately to ignore Aegon’s hand on your shin, trailing a path beneath the fabric of your gown.
Aegon only hummed in response. He couldn’t care less if Aemond returned, his only focus was you. Knowing he wouldn’t let you go anytime soon, you tried to return to your book. But the words were nonsense as Aegon’s hand dipped between your thighs, toying with the fabric of your smallclothes.
“Aegon, here? Really?” you asked, your voice cracking slightly as his fingertips dipped beneath the undergarment.
Again, you only got a hummed response, as Aegon’s lips found the sliver of exposed skin at your shoulder. As if on instinct, your head tilted, giving him more access to your body. You could feel him beneath you, the hard length of him pressing against your backside. You knew you shouldn’t, but it was getting more of a challenge to resist.
“Do I make you want to sin, my lady?” Aegon whispered, his voice taking on the low tone that always had you shivering.
His words sent a rush of heat down your spine, pooling between your legs. And you knew he could feel it, his fingers slipping your smallclothes aside.
“If our clothes stay on, it is innocent, that is what you said?” you asked, repeating the words he’d said time and time again.
Aegon grinned into your neck. He had you and the time he’d waited now was worth it.
“Yes, my sweet girl, that is how it works.” His voice was soft in your ear, but his words had you whimpering, combined with the slow movements of his fingers against your pearl.
Aegon wanted to feel you, just a little something to sate him before your wedding night. Something to tempt you, prepare you for what was to come.
His hand delved deeper, a single digit slipping between your folds now. The groan he let out as your heat enveloped his finger was near sinful. He’d pictured this, time and time again alone in his room. But nothing would compare to actually feeling you. The slick heat of your arousal that was already dripping onto his skin. His own cock pulsed against your backside, and he couldn’t help but grind his hips up into you. He needed more.
“Oh…Aegon..” your voice was like music to his ears. The library was quiet at this time, but he captured your lips and swallowed your moans. Just in case. He couldn’t afford to be caught now.
He sped up, slipping another finger inside and rolling his thumb against your pearl. Your head falling to his shoulder, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt a tight knot in your stomach. Aegon could feel it, you were so very close, and he wanted to see you come apart for him.
And it didn’t take long. He curled his fingers inside you, chewing on his lip as he felt your muscles clench and hold him inside. And only seconds later, the most delicious moan of his name fell from your lips, thighs closing around his wrist as you peaked.
“That’s it. You are so very beautiful when you come, my lady…” Aegon purred, slowing his movements until he stopped.
Your head rested against his shoulder, your breath coming out as pants as you came down from your high. You’d never felt anything quite like it, but the way Aegon’s hand continued to squeeze at your body, you knew he wasn’t done with you.
With practised moves, he maneuvered you to straddle him, bunching your gown just high enough to expose the flesh of your thighs. The new position sent a shot of pleasure up your spine and you instinctively rolled your hips against him.
“You are insatiable, my prince,” you mused, Aegon’s hands now rested on your waist, urging you to move again.
Aegon only chuckled, the feel of your body against his knocking all thoughts from his head. This was what he’d imagined, what he’d wanted. And now he had it, he didn’t know where to begin. Something about the way you looked at him now, chest still heaving ever so slightly. Skin flushed from your peak. You had never looked more beautiful.
“Still innocent…” he mumbled, bucking his hips up against you as he helped you roll your hips.
His lips found yours, hands slipping from your waist to your backside. You could tell by the way he held you tight, kiss messy and rough, that he was close to his own end. And you’d be damned if you didn’t please him as he had you.
You braced yourself against the back of the armchair, trying to keep your movements as fluid as possible. And the groans that left Aegon’s lips told you were doing something right. The feel of his cock pulsing and twitching under his breeches felt better than you could ever imagined. It wasn’t long before his grip became bruising, slamming his hips up into you, chasing the friction despite the clothing between you.
His face glistened a little from the exertion, hair sticking to his skin. Your lips found his jaw, as they had many times when your past kisses had got heated. But this time was different. Your teeth nipped his skin as the rut of his hips hit your core in just the right rhythm to have you peaking again.
“Yes, fuck…” Aegon was lost to pleasure now and feeling you peak again was enough to have him following with his own. With the last few ruts of his hips, his head fell back against the chair and his eyes closed.
Both of you sat quietly. You’d expected to feel ashamed, like you’d done something you shouldn’t have. And yet looking at your betrothed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from your kisses, you felt both satisfied and proud.
The silence was only broken when Aegon chuckled, a deep sound that had your head tilting in confusion.
“I knew I would tempt you,” he smiled, pulling you down for any other kiss.
You smiled into it, relishing the slight hiss he gave when your hips pushed down against his. Your thoughts wandering to exactly how your upcoming wedding night would be.
“You were right,” you whispered, lips brushing against his.
“You do make me want to sin.”
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Taglist: @valeskafics @nyrasproblm @alexagirlie @targaryen-dynasty
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pascalfilms · 1 month
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New King Aegon II Targaryen
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danytar · 1 month
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“What is mine is mine” [ Yandere! King! Aegon X pregnant!Wife! reader ]
Warnings: sadism- blood- Possessive aegon - mention of sex - Incest
Summary: After a long day in the court and council you finally back to your chambers with your husband. When you return, you get into a situation with the maid that drives your husband mad.
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It was a really quite day for you as queen and a little boring because of the endless meetings about the war. You were also on Aegon's small council. And now it was your duty to listen to him as he talked about the war with his usual nonchalance. He acted as if the war was a joke. He leaned back comfortably in his chair. Your grandfather Otto was trying to explain the dangers of war, but Aegon didn't seem to care. A mocking sound came out of his mouth, a mixture of a snort and a laugh. He crossed his elbows on the table and moved a little closer to the table.
“Good, to war then.” He said that, then he looked at you with a playful smile on his lips.
“ The war isn't a game darling”. you replies to him without breaking eye contact. He stared at you with a cheeky smile on his face. You were always more mature than him. “It is a game for me my sweet queen”. he replies.
You didn't answer him because you do not want to engage in a useless stupid discussion with your husband. Especially with a sensitive topic like war.
“I think that's enough for today ”. He leans back in his chair and looks at the members of the small council. “But your grace-”. Otto tried to speak, but aegon immediately interrupted him.
“I said enough! Do you want me to repeat myself?”. He replied in a stern tone.
The hand looked at him as he said “No- no your grace”.
Moments later everyone started to leaving you and your husband face to face at the small council table. Aegon glared at you and got up from his chair as if you were a horse about to be hunted.
He walked towards you and turned your chair to face him “Did I tell you how hot you look today, my love?”. he smilies his charming smilie at you.
You smile and try to keep up with his teasing “No. you didn't”.
He smilies and replies “I think I should show you instead of telling you ”. He grabbed you by your waist and placed you on the council table. Then he kicked the chair away and smiled at you cheekily.
You try to tease him by putting on a disappointed face “I think I get it my dear”. you said
He frowns gently “What is it? Don't you like that? ”.
“I want to go my bedchambers ”. You reply
“Oh.. come on.. be a good girl and spread your legs for me dear darling”.
“No”. you teasing him back.
He frowns sweetly, then smiles cockily and climbs up onto the table to hover above you. “Aeg- wtf you doing right now”. you chuckle. His kisses on his neck tickled you. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them to the table with his hand while the other slid to your waist.
“You are delicious, my love. what can I say”. he chuckles
You groaned lightly and looked at him. he smilies at you and leaned down to kiss your lips. You bit his lips hard, causing him to let out a loud moan and pull himself away from your lips.
His thumb touched the blood on his lips. he chuckles and said “ I will punish you for this My naughty queen”.
you chuckle and got up from the table “Okay...but keep your punishment in our bedroom, I don't want prying eyes to watch us ”.
“Ohh I will.. ”. An evil smile appeared on his face and he began to lead you towards his chambers.
When you two arrived at the room, aegon groaned in frustration when he saw the group of the servants waiting for you.
He threw himself on the bed and looked at you. You went to the servants and they began to untie your hair and pull the straps of your dress slowly. He watched carefully as your clothes were being disposed of, piece by piece.
Why would you need servants when you have him? He can tear your dress apart in a matter of seconds. A white silk robe has been brought for you. aegon's wild mind started telling him to tear this robe into small pieces.
While he was looking at you, he noticed that one of the maids was touching your body more than necessary. She was clearly caressing your body.
Aegon notices this out of the corner of his eye. And he can't help but feel a mixture of rage and jealousy, seeing another person's hands on her. He looks at the maid, his look making it obvious that he noticed what she was doing.
He got up from the bed and said in a stern and somewhat angry voice “All of you leave us now.. Except this girl! ”. He pointed to the maid who was close to you.
The maids nodded and left quickly. The girl knew that she was in big trouble now.
He couldn't help feeling a bit jealous. It might be unnecessary to be feeling that way... but it was just how he felt.
“What's wrong aegon?”. you said
Aegon ignores your response and quickly approaches and grabs the maid by her hair “You desire my wife, don't you? You want to touch her...and kiss her...don't you? ”. His words were full of venom and anger towards the maid.
“Aeg- listen ”. Before you could finish your sentence, he interrupted you and said “She must do her duty but instead she wants to Fuck you doesn't she? ”.
“Y- your g-g-grace I-”. The girl tried to defend herself, his grip still tight in her hair.
“Silence! I haven't given you the permission to speak ”. He shouted at her
You watched your husband with a confused expression, not knowing what to do. He refused to listen to you.
“I'll show you what happens when you touch the king's property”. he replies to the girl. Then he drags her by her hair towards his huge bed and handcuffs both of her hands to the bed frame.
“Aegon stop- You're trying to calm him down
But with no avail He has already begun to punish the girl he bring his crossbow and arrow Ignoring your words and ignoring the girl's cries and pleas.
Your eyes widened when you saw what your husband was about to do to that poor girl “AEGON! ”. You lunged towards him and grabbed his arm.
“No Y/N I should show her”. He smiled evilly and looked at the girl, ready to shoot.
He shot her with an arrow without batting an eyelid. You stared in shock and then looked at him. he looked back at you and smilies. He dropped his crossbow and moved closer to wrap his arms around your waist.
“You're mine. understood? ”. He looked into your eyes and knelt to kiss your belly.. “Maybe I should fuck you in front of everyone to prove to them that you belong to me”. He muttered as his hands caressed the small bulge of your belly.
you chuckle “This was too much honey you know- ”.
“Who cares about a whore ?”. he replies then continue his sentence “Beside.. I don't want to see this robe on your body, take it off ”.
you felt ecstatic after his words. And before you can comply with his orders He pulled you towards him and you both fell to the ground.. “Oh my god.. My son-”. you speak
he chuckles “Don't worry darling I won't hurt our son”.
He lay on his back and placed you on top of him “Now...should we finished what we started in the council room? ”.
Tell me in the comments if you want me to tagged you in the next stories ♡.
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dragonbarbie · 9 months
Text
𝐖𝐇𝐘'𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇?
modern!aegon ii targaryen x reader
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rating: 18+, minors dni
summary: reader thinks aegon can never be more than a one night stand, and aegon is intent on getting her to give him a chance.
word count: 2.5k
tags: modern!au, smut, drunk!aegon having sex with sober!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, tity sucking, pussy eating, p in v sex, unprotected sex
note: i very much write fanon!aegon, not the canon, show!version.
sidenote: is this lowkey inspired by my irl situationship who wont quit calling me every time he gets drunk?? maybe
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it was a regular friday night for aegon. his frat was throwing a big party, and he had organised everything down to the last detail. he had a reputation to maintain after all, known affectionately as the king of parties of dragonstone university. he had already drunk his own weight in alcohol, flirted (and then proceeded to get handsy) with a couple of girls but he’d been too distracted to follow through with any of them.
his mind instead wandered back to a couple of weeks ago, at another party, where he’d met y/n. she’d been chatting to cregan stark, wearing a little black dress that hugged her in the best way imaginable. he knew, looking at her enchanting laugh at stark’s dumb joke, he had to have her. putting on his most charming smile, he’d approached her.
she’d been wary of him because of his reputation around campus (who wouldn’t be) but after a few disarming jokes as his fingertips grazed the side of her thighs, he’d managed to convince her to give him a chance.
drunken steps were then taken back to her dorm room, and they’d had what aegon could only call amazing sex.
now hold on, you have to believe him when he says amazing, alright? he’d slept with too many women to count, after a while the nights blended to the point that he couldn’t much differentiate between what having sex with each of them had felt like. so, when one such night stood out for him? it meant it had met a very high bar indeed. after all, he thought, he didn’t go around spending the night at every girl’s place.
he'd thus expected a little warmer treatment come morning and was rudely shocked at her attempting to throw him out. still, wearing his jeans in such a hurry that its button and fly was undone, unlaced shoes, bare-chested as he held his rumpled shirt in his hand, he’d had the audacity to offer her a lazy grin and promise “i’ll call you.”
“please” she’d snorted with an amused look, “everyone knows aegon targaryen is not the type to call.” taking no note of his offended expression, she’d shut the door in his face.
he’d been wondering about those words ever since. sure, she hadn’t been wrong but, hey, he’d meant the lie this time! with tits that great, ass that perfect, why wouldn’t he want a repeat of last night? he’d thought to himself.
determined to prove her wrong, he’d asked around the frat house and found out her number. but as his hand had hovered over the call button, something had stopped him. she’d caught him spot on, he realised. he wasn’t a relationship guy, and she wasn’t expecting the relationship-thing with him. perhaps it was best he left her alone.
he’d done just that, at least while sober. drunk aegon on the other hand, found it much easier to pick up the phone and dial her number.
“who is this?” there was panic and sleep in her voice, having picked up an unknown number at 2 in the morning “sweetheart! you picked up” he’d grinned, words slurring. he could practically hear the eyeroll on the other end. “aegon… to what do i owe the pleasure?” “i was just missing you.” he sighed. “sure.” nothing in her voice indicated that she believed him.
“i’m actually not far from your dorm. how about i come up with a bottle of tequila and we can… catch up?” he suggestively added. “it’s 2:14 am…. on a tuesday.” she pointed out, but her words didn’t seem to mean much to him as he replied, “so?” an exasperated sigh could be heard over the phone, “good night, aegon.” click. he stared down on the iphone in his hand in disbelief, she’d hung up on him.
he decided maybe he’d come out too strong, so the next time he texted first. he’d stared at the text for a couple of minutes, and when he saw that she was online but hadn’t bothered to text him back, he’d walked over to the nearest girl and proceeded to make out with her in the bathroom. until he was interrupted with a buzzing in his pocket, “just a minute” he’d mumbled against her lips, unbothered by her disappointed expression as he fished for the phone in his pocket hurriedly.
he saw that y/n had finally replied to his ‘u up?’ with a ‘depends.’ his brow furrowed at her response in confusion, he typed back ‘on what’.
the notification arrived with a ping. her response read ‘are u drunk?’. something told him instinctively to lie. he typed out a no, but once the message sent, he realised it had autocorrected to ‘yo’. he corrected it to a no and sent again, only to find the same mistake committed again. it was only after a string of typos had been sent, did he blink and realise autocorrect wasn’t to blame at all, his damn fingers just refused to cooperate with his inebriated brain.
ping. after receiving the string of nonsense, she finally replied ‘i got my answer.’ “aegon?” the girl in front of him looked at him impatiently, only to have him grab the handle of the bathroom door, leaving with a quick “gotta go”. he immediately called up y/n as he walked out of the party, but the call went straight to voicemail. all four times.
thus, every night aegon had gotten drunk since, he found himself being distracted by thoughts of y/n, frustrated at her refusing to engage with him.
that night too, once the clock on the wall started to look to him as if it were melting off and his feet seemed to stumble wherever he walked, his brain suddenly thought showing up to her dorm was the best idea ever.
reaching her door, he ran a hand through his hair before knocking. no response. impatient, he loudly whined “y/n! c’mon, open up!” met with more silence. he whipped his phone out, blinking at the bright screen as he concentrated to make sure it was without typos, he sent her a text, ‘m 0utsidee’. he pounded with his fist on the door one more time, before a door opened, but not the one he was standing in front of.
three doors down, y/n stood against her doorframe in her small black shorts, red tank top riding up slightly to reveal skin just above them. “wrong fucking door, idiot.” aegon grinned as he walked towards her. “you’re lucky baela’s out of town for the weekend, otherwise she would have kicked your ass for banging on her door like that.”
ignoring her, he pouted as he leaned his head against her door frame, looking too much like a wounded puppy. y/n felt a tug at her stomach at how undeniably cute he looked. “why don’t you ever pick up my calls?”
“why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she asked instead of answering. “what?” he mumbled, confused. “high….why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she slowly repeated, as if talking to a two-year-old. “i’m not interested in someone who needs to be drunk to call me. i don’t want to be your booty call.” she shrugged. his lower lip jutted out further at her response, crease appearing between his brow. oh, gods, y/n found herself thinking, how could someone manage to look this pathetic and this cute at the same time.
“you’re not a booty call.” he groaned in protest. after all, there were enough girls at that party willingly throwing themselves at him, he could have been with anyone, and yet… it was her door his drunken steps had taken the path of.
“go home, aegon. it was a one-time thing. it’s not happening again.” she insisted. her words seemed to have no effect on him, as he placed a hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. he bent down to her ear and whispered, his words slurring, “let me show you all the reasons that this should be more than just a ‘one-time-thing’.”
he pressed his lips to hers, softly at first. she didn’t immediately kiss him back, but the feeling of his lips on hers felt more intoxicating than whatever it was that she could smell off his breath, and she found her lips moving against his within seconds. he bit her lower lip playfully, at her response. she parted her lips to allow him to slide his tongue past them. his hand, meanwhile, slid under the material of her tank and travelled upwards, thumb pressing against her nipple as he squeezed her breast. breaking from the kiss for a second, he smirked at her, “didn’t bother wearing a bra to greet me?”. “i was preparing for bed!” she hissed in response. “excuses” he shook his head at her, teasing.
with his hand he lifted her tank to reveal her bare breasts. “aegon!” she attempted to keep her voice low, lest her neighbours wake up to the scene, “we’re in the middle of the hallway, anyone can walk in!” the idea of someone catching them only made it all the more exciting for aegon, “relax.” he told her with a laidback smile.
before she could protest, his head dipped and he captured her nipple in his mouth. a moan escaped her lips at the feeling, and she stumbled back, her back hitting her doorframe. aegon continued his tongue’s assault on her sensitive nipple, one hand gripping her waist to keep her in place, the other reaching behind her to squeeze her ass. her hand held the nape of his neck, as her head was thrown back in pleasure at his actions. she whined when he abruptly stopped.
he kneeled down and his fingers reached up, pulling her shorts and panties down her legs, causing a shiver to go up her spine. chewing on her lower lip in nervousness she weakly said, “we should go inside” but she couldn’t deny that the thought of getting caught made her even more wet. there was a hint of recklessness and danger in his eyes, “where’s your sense of adventure?”. he threw the clothes inside her ajar door, then lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. she audibly gasped as she felt his tongue upon her already soaking pussy.
“aegon…ah!” her hand gripped his hair as his tongue played tricks on her core, her eyes rolling back till she could see stars. his grip on her thigh remained firm, and she was certain she would be waking up with a bruise. “close… so…close…” she had begun to say after a few minutes, feeling her muscles tense, when he stopped.
he stood up and started to undo his pants, freeing his length. he grabbed her by the waist, letting the tip of his cock tease her folds. she was already moaning for him, “want me to take you right here? make you scream my name, till your neighbours come checking?” she swallowed at the thought, lust overtaking her eyes.
“let’s do one thing.” he smiled as if he’d struck upon the most perfect idea, but the gleam in his eyes told y/n it couldn’t be anything good. he turned her around by her waist, hand coming to her front to rub her clit as he whispered in her ear, “you see that door?”. she knew he could only mean the door to the elevator which was the way to enter her dormitory floor. she managed a nod in response, unable to form words as his fingers pressed down on her so ruthlessly. “keep looking at it.” he commanded as he grabbed her hips back to push his cock inside her. “aegon!” she gasped at the feeling.
he entered her completely in one go, pulling out punishingly slow before pushing back in. he continued speaking as he impaled her, “someone’s gonna walk in any moment now…” he teased, “…and see you in this mess… see you bent over, taking me from behind…like a whore” the thought embarrassed her, yes, but what embarrassed her more was that she found herself almost wanting it to come true.
“even when they walk in, i won’t stop.” he threatned, his thrusts becoming faster. “you’ll be on display for everyone to see… to see how well you take my cock.”  he gathered her hair in his fist in one hand, and she felt him pulling it lightly. “yes, oh, yes!” she found herself moaning, eyes intently trained on the door. “you’d like that? of course, you would, little slut.” she only whimpered in response, his words bringing her closer and closer to her edge. “you’d love to have everyone see just how well you receive a ‘booty call’” he chuckled. she could feel herself going weak at the knees at his pace and dirty talk.
“aegon… i—ah!” pleasure spread over every inch of her body, as she came all over his cock. he continued to thrust into her, chasing his own orgasm, until he emptied inside of her with a grunt.
her legs felt wobbly as he pulled out of her, turning her back around to face him. “next time i call—” he panted as he spoke, exerted from their activities, “—pick up.” she smirked, in contrast to his dominating actions mere moments ago, his words now sounded more like a pleading request; one she felt gracious enough to grant him as his juice and her own dripped down her legs. “i will. promise.”
his pearly white teeth showed as he grinned at her response, pleased. “oh, but i’m not nearly done with you for the night, just yet.” he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he shut the door behind them as he walked back inside her dorm.
the next morning, she didn’t kick him out like the last time. she let him linger around her bed, aegon placing a trail of kisses down her body as a manner of greeting her good morning. he was needy and showed it by being as tactile with her as could be. yet she felt comfortable with his touches, allowing herself to lie with him for hours, their legs tangled. even as she bid him goodbye from her door, she had to practically tear her lips off his, neither able to get enough of the other.
she felt content as she’d shut her door behind her, leaning against it as she thought back to the night that had passed, when her phone started to ring. she picked it and smiled as she saw the name being displayed, ‘aegon (don’t pick up)’.
 “see i am the type who calls. a lot” she laughed at his words through the phone, able to hear him standing right outside the door. “and also the type who does breakfast. what do you say, brunch in an hour?”
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written-in-flowers · 1 year
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Do you think you could write something where Aegon fingers future sister wife (sister betrothed?) during their lessons with a Maester or Septa 💚💕
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Pairing: Aegon ii x Targ!reader 
Words: 1k
Warnings: vaginal fingering, dry humping, underage sex stuff, hand-jobs. 
Lessons are Boring
You’d always been the attentive one during lessons. Maester Ryle oversaw the education of the prince and princesses of House Targaryen for two or three generations. A wrinkled old man with a few thin white hairs on his head, his maester’s robe hung loosely on his body and his chains clinked together when he walked. Due to his bad knees and hips, Maester Ryle often sat during the lessons and pointed at things on his board with a walking stick. This meant, he could hardly see over the other side of the table where the children sat in front of him. This meant, while Aemond, Helaena and you took notes and answered his questions, Aegon’s hand could slide onto your lap without him noticing.
"-The Faith of the Seven and the High Septon have often been at odds with House Targaryen and The Crown as a whole. It was only upon the ascension of King Jaehaerys that these bonds were finally mended,” said the old maester from his seat, “Can any of you tell me how this was achieved? Ah, Prince Aemond, yes.”
“King Jaehaerys refused to reinstate the Swords and Stars of the Faith, and removed the bounties King Maegor put on the heads of Warrior’s Sons and Poor Fellows. He then gave a white cloak to Ser Joffrey Doggett, who’d been part of the band of Warrior’s Sons, and he accepted it,” Aemond told him. “He swore to The Faith that The Crown will always protect and defend them from then on. It has been such ever since.”
“Indeed,” Maester Ryle nodded in approval.
You’d been listening to Maester Ryle go on about the history between their family and the followers of The Seven when a warm hand touched your knee. Looking over, you saw Aegon smirking. You stared down to see his hand sliding up and down your thigh slowly. Due to the tablecloth, Maester Ryle could not see the prince’s hand lifting your skirt inch by inch over your knees. You bit back a gasp as his bare fingertips grazed your flesh, smoothing over the curves and dips. The gentle touch made your toes curl inside your shoes; your thighs tensed at the sudden brush, and a warmth spread between your legs. Fingertips lightly dragging up and down your inner thigh, Aegon waited until you’d bitten your bottom lip to slide further up. The side of his hand pushed right up to your naked sex, he gripped the side tenderly to make you whimper.
“-Now, Queen Alyssa and her husband feared the marriage of Jaehaerys to his sister, Alysanne, might cause-Princess?”
He’d heard her. Damn the man. Aegon snickered softly but you merely stammered, “N-N-Nothing, Maester. Please, go on.” You turned your head and said low as possible, “Aegon…”
“What? This is boring,” he replied, doing the same.
You turned your attention to the lesson, while Aegon’s fingers made their way to your sex once more. His index finger sliding between your folds, his other two fingers kept them open while he used his index finger to tease the pearl they covered. The direct contact and unrelenting friction had you clenching your jaw and doing your best to stay firmly planted in your seat. Helaena, far too busy watching an ant crawl across her book, didn’t notice what was going on. Maester Ryle continued going on about history while Aemond listened and wrote notes. Soon, wetness began pooling there and Aegon took the chance to spread it over your lips and the hood of your clitoris. He let his fingers grind into your entrance, feeling your walls starting to flutter at their touch and making you grip your own book. It reminded you of the other day when you’d slipped your hand into his breeches during a ball, stroking him to completion and sending him into euphoria in a room full of people. You should’ve known he’d try getting back at you. He continued languidly rolling his two fingers around your clit, tracing the edges of the folds and dipping right beneath the nub to make you squeak. Any other time, he’d have you falling apart, especially if he used his tongue which he’d gotten so much better at. But now, you needed to keep yourself together or your mother will be hearing about it.
She still hadn’t forgotten what you’d done on the window ledge.
"-Can any of you tell me which house is closest to the Faith? Princess Y/N, would you care to guess?”
“Yes, dear sister,” Aegon smiled at you, “Which house is it? I forget.”
“Well, dear brother,” you replied without moaning, “It’s House Hightower, our mother’s family.”
“Ah, right. Yes, of course.”
“That is correct. House Hightower has maintained a very healthy relationship with the Faith for many generations…”
You didn’t hear how they maintained that relationship because once Aegon slipped a finger inside you, you nearly let out a moan which you disguised as a cough. His palm continuously rubbing against your clit while his finger pumped into you, you felt every single shiver of pleasure course through you. You wished more than anything you could drag him somewhere private in the library and let him finish you as he should. You already knew everything you needed to know about the various religions of the world and their importance to people. When Aegon added a second finger, you knew you were doomed. The boy had a way of making you weak without trying too hard. Not that you didn’t have the same effect on him in return.
He kept the pace slow and almost lazy, withdrawing his fingers slowly and pushing them back in tenderly. He couldn’t go much faster without the old man noticing his arm. It didn’t help that whenever you came close to orgasm, he stopped suddenly. The agony became far too much; the room suddenly felt hot and the need in you became far too ravenous to focus on anything else. Thankfully, the maester ended the lesson after he finished telling you all about The Faith of the Seven. He said they’d all talk about the royal progresses of the Old King and his queen next time. You nodded, and took a cackling Aegon by the hand. You didn’t stop walking until you reached his bed chambers, where you threw him onto his bed. Quickly, you untied his breeches while he worked on unbuttoning the front of your gown. Having access to your breasts, Aegon’s lips latched around them and suckled firmly while you withdrew his cock. You never put him inside, but you enjoyed rubbing your soaked pussy over his length until you both came.
And that’s what you did. You dragged your sex up and down his hard shaft and leaking head while he licked and teased your sensitive nipples. It did not take long for either of you to cum. Your parts exposed to one another and your passion burning hot, you didn’t hold back this time. Clutching the pillows underneath his head, your orgasm hit you hard. Thighs quivering and your body tensing all over, you humped Aegon’s cock until your clit became overstimulated by him. Aegon grabbed your ass and kept you still as he went along with you and came over his stomach. Cheeks red, hair spread over the pillows, and utter satisfaction on his face, Aegon always looked so beautiful after an orgasm. He looked beautiful all the time, even if others thought otherwise. Panting, you rested on top of him for a while, kissing and whispering words of love to one another.
“Thank god Maester Ryle is old and can’t walk,” you said, chuckling, “I’d hate to think of what he’d tell Mother is he’d seen us.”
“The same thing everyone else says,” he put on his best quavering tone as he said, “The young Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N were being rather inappropriate during their lesson this morning, Your Grace. It is behavior unbefitting a noble child. They must be put in proper order right away.”
“That is more or less what he told me.”
Her voice made you both jump apart, and cover yourselves. Your mother stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed and disappointment on her face once again. She stared at you both for a moment, and shame immediately hit you. You truly should’ve conducted yourself in a more proper manner.
“Just because Maester Ryle is old doesn’t mean he is a fool,” she said, sighing. “Tell me you at least didn’t put it in.”
“He didn’t,” you shook your head. “He never does. I don’t let him.”
“Must you two behave this way? Think about the shame it brings on you both.”
“She’ll be my wife one day,” Aegon said, pulling his sheets over his crotch. “They should be happy the prince and princess show a healthy passion for one another. It implies that we’ll produce children….someday….”
Your mother took these words into consideration, “I suppose you’re right…but please, have some decency and do it behind closed doors. I am sick of hearing from everyone about the things they find you two doing. It is not something a mother wishes to hear.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Yes, we’re sorry, Mother.”
You watched her leave, then turned to each other as the door closed. Bursting into a fit of giggles, you both fell back on the bed and shared a soft kiss. “At least she didn’t scream this time,” you noted, letting him kiss down your neck.
“At least there’s that, yes,” he said, voice muffled by your skin. “Take off your dress,” he said, coming back up to kiss you, “I wish to see the rest of you.”
“Did you not just hear our mother?”
“Yes, I heard her say ‘do it behind closed doors’,” he then pointed to the door, “It’s closed and we’re behind it.” He knelt between your legs and lifted your leg. Kissing your inner thigh, he started untying the ribbons holding your stockings, “So, if you’ll indulge me, my sweet princess, I’d like us to spend the day drinking and pleasuring each other in any way we possibly can.”
“Hm,” you said thoughtfully, “I suppose you are right, my prince. That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
You slid further down the bed to reach his shirt. Your day was certainly going uphill after a boring lesson.
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lovelykhaleesiii · 15 days
Note
Aegon is the best big brother to his sweet sister, who is in third trimester of pregnancy; not only does he help her relieve the feeling of her heavy breasts by sucking on her tits greedily like a babe, he sometimes helps the aching feeling between her legs by sticking his cock, tongue or fingers in her cunny
Such a good brother, especially when she’s not even his wife
Blood of my Blood.
PAIRING: Older!Brother!Aegon ii Targaryen x Little!Sister!Fem!Reader
WORDS: 1,715.
WARNINGS: incest to the max, implied affair [Aegon is the father of the child], age gap [reader is of mature/consensual age], lactation kink, pregnancy kink, slight reference to breeding kink, p in v sexual intercourse, possessive!Aegon, swearing.
A/N - now I NEVER write brother x sister tropes even in the ASOIAF universe just because it’s not really my cup of tea, but this ask sparked something very very feral in me. I might make a neice x uncle version of this or a Daddy Aeg x daughter!reader version.
credit to the owners of the images.
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Curse the Gods who afflicted the journey of motherhood, for it could be such a gruelling thing... Heading into the final few moons of your first pregnancy, you had never felt such intense discomfort in your life. Your beloved mother, Queen Alicent, had informed you of such grievances, although with little empathy for her pregnancies had been quite embracing and facile. Your eldest sister, Helaena, having already given birth to a set of twins, now in the early stages of her current pregnancy with your elder brother, Aemond, could somewhat console you, becoming an anchor of support.
It was Aegon, your eldest of the siblings, that you seemed most attached to, for it was Aegon that granted you bliss in your pregnancy, more so than your absent husband, some delinquent lord of the Vale. You had argued your way with your mother, and batted your eyes to your father, begging you to stay in King's Landing, in familiar territory with the finest maesters at hand. More so, it was Aegon who had plotted with you this essential plan.
"Do you truly think that the maesters of the Vale and that imbecile you call husband will keep you safe and satisfied, dear sister? Not in the least... But I can."
Aegon's temptress of a tongue was convincing alone, although it had been his merciful gestures of chivalry that kept you sane and grounded. Easing your aches and pains of expecting, Aegon became your sole beacon of ease, like the formidable arms of a warrior and you, the damsel he heroically carries.
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"Do they ache again, sweet sister?"
The softness in his husky, drowsy voice breaking the silence of the chamber, woke you whole from your half-hearted daze. You had both succumbed to slumber [often Aegon insisted that you remain closely by his side, even in bed] what felt like hours long ago, and yet through the ginger firelight, by the open window, night remained swallowing the sky.
"Mhmm-" You uneasily stir: weakly trying to muster enough strength to sit yourself upright: however, with the sheer, bulging mass of your grown belly you visibly struggled until Aegon's efforts of pulling you effortlessly upright ended your dilemma.
"Want me to help, princess?"
His calloused, thick hands began to rub small, soothing circles against your lower back, knowing the babe inside exerted much pressure on your lower spine: its weight growing more rigid with each passing month.
"You've helped me enough, Aegon. I mustn't ask more from you... If this state is any indication of me being a mother, consider me a terrible one," You defeatedly utter, one hand stretched from behind supporting your upright position, whilst the other softly caressed at the protruding temple of your clothed belly.
"Don't speak like that, Y/N, dearest. This is your first babe, you must understand your body is adjusting. Hel suffered a great deal with the twins also, and now, look at her... You are going to be a beautiful mother, indeed. I have no doubt...C'me here."
Lightly tapping at your exposed thigh, your night gown had been pulled up just below your way with all the commotion and movement. Obeying, Aegon summoned you onto his lap, shirtless he had entered the bed, however before you could even gather motion to straddle yourself atop: he'd managed to tear away his undergarments, leaving his exposed girth, reddened at the tip with excitement. Modestly covering himself with the sheer, ivory linen.
"Right now?" Your snappy tone vicious, however Aegon remained unfazed.
"Well, little sister, if I'm being quite frank it seems you've been dreaming quite vividly... Do you not hear the moans and pleas that escape your lips in sleep, crying out for me, begging... Want your elder to sate you, is it? Was that babe growing inside of you not enough, you wish me to spoil you some more, hmm?"
"A-Aeg- We shouldn't..." You meekly whimper, a surge of heat coursing through your face, certain your cheeks had grown scarlet with shame.
"All you had to do was ask."
His dark voice a low growl, like some concealed predator eager to ambush. Aegon's motions remained in contrast, tender and cautious, easing your delicate and sensitive frame over his wide, gelatinous thighs. A scorching sensational painfully heightened sent lightning bolts in waves throughout the entirety of your body, shuddering with excitement as your aching cunt eased itself over his pulsating cock. It had been a while since you had been intimate with Aegon like this, prior to the pregnancy in fact: the changes your body had undergone since were bracing and raw.
Feeling the tensity beneath and the heat as you began to bob ever so slowly and sensually over Aegon's tense, fat cock: feeling its hard tip hitting at your cervix [you had hoped rather than the babe]. Your tight walls overstretched, desperate to adjust to his girthy width, you swore to yourself it had never felt this stimulating ever before: every primal sense in your body, every fibre of your being resisting the urge to collapse into a faint against Aegon's soft chest, gripping onto the bare, pale skin of his broad shoulders for dear life.
"That's it, rūs [baby], doing so-so well. It hurts I know, but Daddy's gonna make you feel so much better. Keep going, princess."
Head rolling back in admiration, you felt the intensity from between your inner thighs beginning to lessen, a wetness pooling between, coating the friction to ease the motions. Your hands release their strong hold over him, as your eyes began to wonder over his body, you had immediately noticed the raw, reddened marks lashed across his ivory skin. To avoid any more damage, you guide your relaxed hands up towards Aegon's short strands.
Tugging and playfully pulling at the loose, platinum locks, whilst Aegon's face remained buried, eagerly lapping at your petal-like skin on the base of your neck. One strong arm snaked around your back, gripping you firmly by the neck providing some lumbar support, whilst the other strategically untied the knots of lace at the front of your night gown, exposing your voluptuously full tits. Hardened nipples raw and perky, even as Aegon teasingly flicked at your tit with this thumb, a grimace forming across his handsome face you felt against your skin: kneading the swollen, plump flesh with his palm, you instinctively squirmed and moaned with such debility.
"Seven Hells, you are so fucking full, dārilaros [princess]. This babe is going to be so spoiled. Such a good Mumma, already eager with milk for the bub... Could feed the an entire realm, Mumma."
"J-Just you A-Aeg. Only you get to taste this sweet m-milk before the babe. T-Tell me how good I taste," Stuttering whimpers mottled between mouthful of moans echoed between the dense walls of Aegon's royal chambers. His fat cock still buried and plunging itself deeply inside of you, penetrating against your already tainted and filled womb, Aegon's hand cupped at your breast from beneath. Lifting your tit upwards, latching his mouth tightly against its curvature peak.
"Mhmm- Keep going big boy... M-Making me feel s-so good, A-Aeg. H-Have your full."
The imminent relief your occupied tit began to succumb to, felt like a blissful dream. You felt your breath could finally release, not hitched against your throat from the sheer agony of feeling it was about to burst. The milk you intently sensed, lusciously pouring into Aegon's ravenous mouth, his plump, moist lips suckling at your skin, totally encompassing the nipple in its entirety. His teeth lightly gnawed at your flesh, however, it was a pleasant sensation nonetheless.
"So w-warm and fresh- Gonna f-fill me up so fucking much. P-Poor princess... The weight of these, the copious a-amount- I-I'm greedy for you. Sh-Should've fucked you earlier in your womanhood... Drenching your w-womb of my seed, till we fill the keep i-if need be. M-Mother would rather enjoy it."
Aegon, famished like a destitute of the realm, bathed his taste-buds of your milk from one breast and onto the other: regaining his breath between each as he felt inclined to credit your production. Descending his face down once more, he spared no further second wasting away, as he continued to fervently feed, like a man starved of pure water.
"Th-The el-eldest you may b-be, such a b-big baby y-you are. S-So needy for me, huh? A-Always needing t-to take me, m-make me yours. Every bit of me... Is devout t-to you, A-Aegon."
As if your breathless, sensual words had struck a chord in him, a man gone mad with a fever. His hold on you had tightened, his mouth suckled deeper, tugging at the flesh of your bosom, whilst his cock felt it had grown a size more inside of you. The wet mess coating between your inner thighs now glazed all over Aegon's plump lap, expressed no denial of his power over you, the purpose he gave to you. In theory and practice, you felt your body collapsing into a bliss, a shudder of ecstasy waved through your feeble body as you screamed for Aegon, a gush of your wetness coating all over his stiff cock buried inside. Only to be met with Aegon's mutual appreciation of your vulnerability and submission towards him.
"That's it, baby. Such a beautiful woman... Gevives [beauty]. You honour me with this holy act. You privilege me to your womb, your body and your life... Skorkydoso kostagon nyke mirre deny ao mirros? [How can I ever deny you anything?]."
Easing yourself off of Aegon, your limp, frail body tiresome and relieved of such exploits endured. Aegon knew better than to leave you to your own strength, as absent as it was: carrying you over towards your empty side of the bed, still laying you closely against his natural warmth.
"Continue to serve me, brother. And I shall pay it back 100 times over... And besides, if it had not been for your mischief many moons ago, I would not be in such a state. Although, I wouldn't have it any other way, Aegon... I love you."
"Avy jorrāelan [I love you], my dearest, sweet little sister. Continue as you are and I might have to fuck another babe in you once more to teach you a lesson or two."
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general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @zaldritzosrose
Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe @callsignwidow
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targaryen-dynasty · 4 months
Text
WILDEST DREAMS.
Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x pregnant!Reader
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Neither of you would have thought you‘d ever end up like this — dating for hardly a year and you pregnant with Aegon‘s child. Yet he still has another surprise up his sleeve.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, pregnant sex, pregnancy, lactation kink, semi public sex, daddy kink, breeding kink, praise kink
WORDS: 3.5 K
NOTES: Thanks to @lovelykhaleesiii for this amazing request! This can be read as part of the Mine and Mine only universe. 🤭
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White Harbor has never looked more peaceful than it does at this moment. 
Just two days ago, the sky above the harbor was lit up by fireworks with thousands of people watching, and now the only lights you can see are the ones on the docked boats, and the street lights and buildings surrounding the harbor. 
Instead of a formal dinner with his friends, just like he has celebrated every year, Aegon has chosen to invite his younger siblings and their respective families to White Harbor to celebrate the New Year, renting a penthouse overlooking the impressive harbor. It was meant to be a trip no longer than three days, however, all parties involved have quickly decided that it would be better to extend the trip by a few more.
You and Aegon have been dating for hardly a year, meeting by chance in the very same spot you sit in right now, and, after you have found out that you both live in King’s Landing, decided to enter a situationship because you enjoyed each other’s company but weren’t looking for something serious. 
Until he got you pregnant by accident. 
After you both agreed to keep the child, you could swear you had spotted a few tears brimming in his eyes as you handed him the positive pregnancy test, you could observe from day to day how he became more and more absorbed in the father’s role. 
You’re seven months pregnant by now, and, except for the ridiculous amount of milk your body already provides for the child, you have little to no symptoms. The child has been moving quite a bit ever since you’ve hit the six month mark, but you have gotten used to it by now. 
Aegon’s arm is draped over the back of your chair with his fingers drawing mindless patterns along your upper arm, and you two bask in each other’s company and the silence surrounding you. You’re nursing your second glass of non-alcoholic wine, one hand resting on the swell of your bump and feeling the kicks of your child. 
While your eyes are fixed on the tv in the adjoining living room, the Disney movie still running that was meant to keep Helaena’s children occupied during dinner, Aegon has his eyes solely locked on you, watching you gently caress your protruding bump. 
He places his hand over yours, the sudden warmth prompting you to meet his loving gaze. 
You lean into his embrace, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his all too familiar, comforting scent. 
“You know they won’t come back, right?” you ask, voice slightly muffled because of the position of your face. 
Aemond and his wife left two hours ago to feed their little boy and bring him to bed, and have not returned ever since to do God-knows-what. Helaena and Cregan were a bit more persistent with both their children occupied by the television, before they eventually departed to bring them to bed, too. 
That left Aegon and you all by yourself without the hurry to get to bed. 
He chuckles at your words. “I figured as much,” he says, pinching your chin to bring your lips up to his. “We have this evening all to ourselves now.”
Knowing exactly what he is hinting at, your eyes take over a half-lidded gaze almost immediately, your hormones having you feel positively bubbly.
“And I suppose there are plenty of ways we can entertain ourselves in the meantime,” you purr against his lips, pecking them once. He has parted his lips when you pull back, clearly having anticipated you to deepen the kiss and not pull away after just one chaste peck. 
A growl rumbles in his chest as he’s figured out your teasing, and his voice is husky when he speaks again, “are there now?”
His eyes spark with the joy of mischief at his own words, sending a shiver straight down your spine. 
Aegon’s hand drops lower onto your hip, drawing you closer to him to the point you have to get up to straddle his lap. Just at the sight of the pregnant you climbing him, he could feel his crotch growing tighter, much more at the realization that it was his seed doing this to you.  
The skirt of your dress rides up your thighs as you make yourself comfortable to accommodate the space your bump creates. The fabric rucks up just below your belly, and your bare skin is too inviting for your boyfriend not to rub his hands up and down the outsides of your thighs. 
You rest your hands on his shoulders, and lean in to connect your lips with his. Aegon meets the kiss with passion, his arms snaking around your frame to pull you closer. Your lips press together with urgency, your tongues exploring each other’s mouths. 
You run your fingers through his short, silver curls and hold him tight to you as the kiss deepens. You’re both eager to get as close as possible to each other, and you feel the evidence of your proximity and his desire pressing against your clothed and swollen pussy. 
Aegon draws back slightly, and you chase his lips for another kiss. It was passionate but short-lived with him lowering his head to kiss your jaw. 
He caresses the swell of your belly as he trails his lips to your neck, shoulder and then your collarbone. You whimper and whine at the heat on your skin that follows his lips, tilting your head to the side to grant him even more access. 
Teasingly slow, he hooks his index finger beneath the strap of your dress and drags it down your shoulder, completely unphased as he starts to nibble your skin. He proceeds to do the same with the other strap, letting them dangle in the cooks of your elbows with your arms bent.
He brushes his hand over the side of your bump up to your heavy breast, cupping it through the fabric. “You haven’t worn a bra all day long,” he rasps against your collar bone, looking up at you with dark blown eyes. “Such a little minx. Bet you didn’t even think about how badly I would have to hold myself back, huh?”
The touch to your breast sends a tremble through your body, and you arch your back into it. Biting your lip as you look down at him, you whisper teasingly, though there is a hint of glee audible in your words, “not one second.”
His piercing blue eyes widen for a moment, the true meaning behind your words slowly settling. When he squeezes your breast, you tug on his hair in return, causing him to groan, and with his head already tilted up, he presses his lips to your jaw. 
“You’re a very, very naughty girl… mommy.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, and his words make your body hum with desire. 
You lick your lips, and bow your head to meet his, kissing him deeply. You start to grind over his clothed cock, eliciting sharp and heavy breaths from him and quiet whines from yourself whenever your lips parted for air. 
Resting your forehead against his, you rub your hands over his shoulders, squeezing them. “Mommy can be very naughty,” you say, pecking his lips once. “If she gets what she wants…”
“And what does she want?” The grin he has on his lips is perfectly audible, you don’t even have to see it. He knows all too well what you’re going to say, he just wants to hear it.
“You, daddy.”
You can tell he’s taken by surprise at the nickname, since you’ve never used it with him before, his eyes widen as he pulls back to regard you. But nevertheless, a low groan leaves his lips. 
Having always been insatiable and hungry for each other, it’s no surprise which direction it all takes when Aegon cups your ass and lifts you up to carefully sit you down on the table, standing between your parted legs. You bury your fingers in the hairs on the back of his neck again, and watch him carefully.
“Say that again.”
With a cheeky grin on your lips, your eyes visibly trail from his to his lips and then down to his crotch, the bulge perfectly visible. “Daddy,” you reply to the command, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. 
Aegon groans again, and when his hands tug on the front of your dress, you shimmy out of the straps to allow him to free your full breasts. It’s impossible for him to tear his eyes off of them, watching mesmerized how your nipples harden as the chill air hits them. 
You don’t even have to say anything for him to lean in and wrap his lips around one bud, skipping the teasing to suck on it immediately, swallowing your milk like a man starved. The stimulation and relief it brings has your back arching once again, all but shoving your breasts against his lips and into his hand. 
He’s pinching your other nipple between his fingers, coaxing drops of your milk to dribble down the curve of your breast while his lips greedily lap at your other. 
“Fuck,” you mewl, scratching your fingers over his scalp in a comforting manner. 
Aegon’s spurred on by the way your body writhes beneath his touch and your legs clamp around his hips, locking him in and prompting him to rut his hard cock against your clothed pussy. 
But as much as you yearn for the relief his lips bring you, the aching between your legs is too much and needs to be soothed by him. 
“I need you, Aeg,” you whine, grinding yourself against his hard-on. 
A deep groan rumbles in his chest at your words, stoking the already blazing need you have for each other. To your surprise, he pulls back from your breast with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your hard bud and his swollen lips. 
They are curled into a smug smirk, the expression that so often blesses his chiseled features. “What was that?” 
You sigh, biting your bottom lip to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You know what he wants to hear. “I need you… daddy.”
Like a man possessed, Aegon pushes the skirt of your dress up and reveals your cotton panties. You haven’t worn thongs in ages, and he’s used to them by now, though it took him some while. 
Noticing the damp spot in the center of them, Aegon scoffs. “God, fuck, how I‘ve missed you,“ he husks, his eyes solely focused on the outlines of your swollen folds against the cotton. He‘s not talking to you, obviously. “So eager to be filled by me, baby, mh?”
He fists the fabric between his fingers and just rips it apart as if it‘s nothing, briefly meeting your pouting gaze. “I’ll buy you prettier ones,” he replies. 
His hands curl around your thighs to pull you closer towards the edge of the table, and you lean back and prop yourself on your hands, watching almost eagerly as he undoes the zipper of his pants and pulls out his cock. The tip is covered in an angry red, beads of pre cum glistening at the slit, looking all too painful and begging for relief. 
Fisting the base of his cock, he drags it through your swollen folds, soaking it in your arousal before he presses the tip against your entrance, meeting resistance. You brace yourself for the delicious stretch, and release a shuddered breath when he finally breeches your hole. 
Aegon doesn’t know where to look and touch you. Every inch of your body looks far too inviting, and he’s sure he could cum just knowing that he’s the one responsible for the swelling of your body. The half lidded gaze you flash at him doesn’t help either, driving him mad. 
A husky groan slips past his lips as your walls squeeze him ever so tightly, throbbing and twitching as you choke him like a vice. “Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I’m not gonna last long,” he rasps. 
One hand comes up to grope at your breast, while the other rests on the swell of your bump, splaying over it. 
As he pulls his hips back, you wrap your legs around them in a fruitless effort to force him back into you, but he is stronger and merely keeps the tip of his cock inside of you. 
“So eager to have me inside of you?” he teases, and your reply dies on your tongue as he thrusts sharply back into you. 
There’s a suppressed urgency in the way Aegon snaps his hips into yours so quickly and harshly, repeatedly bullying the sweet spot inside of you that makes you putty in his hands. The vigorous pace of his pounding leaves you scrambling for support, and you opt to prop yourself up on your elbows instead of your hands to steady yourself. 
Your head tilts back, and your mouth falls open, but you quickly clamp it shut to stop any wanton moans to fall from your lips. You can’t risk being too loud, as you don’t want anyone in the bedrooms far down the hallway to hear what you’re up to. 
The pleasure envelops you, and when you look at him, you spot him biting his bottom lip harshly, clearly struggling with staying quiet just as much as you do. What seems to distract him at least a bit is the way your breasts jiggle each time his hips meet yours, sending tremors through your body. 
Toe curling pleasure overtakes your body, and you can’t help but fondle the breast that isn’t groped by him, teasing your nipple to the point beads of your milk dribbled out of it again. The sight has him groan out, a tad too loud for the both of you.  
“So fucking pretty carrying my child,” Aegon grunts, the praise making your pussy throb with pleasure and your head fuzzy. He gathers some of your milk on the pad of his thumb, bringing it up to his lips to suck his digit clean. “Pussy or tit – you just taste divine.”
The obscenity of his words coax a renewed wave of your arousal to ooze out of your cunt, soaking his throbbing cock and the table below. You don’t want it to end just yet, but with the knot in your belly tightening, there’s no way to escape. 
Your heels dig into Aegon’s ass cheeks to slightly decelerate the pace of his thrusts and force him to go even deeper, intensifying the sensations you feel. 
“Fuck… please,” you whimper with your face contored in pleasure. 
Aegon wrinkles his nose, looking at you from under the strands of hair that have fallen into his face. “Need something, mommy?”
Your hips roll against his as best as they can, the swollen belly not making it easy, and your mouth falls open again with breathy whimpers leaving it. “I-I’m close,” you mewl, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Wanna cum, daddy… please.”
You spot the hint of a smile dancing over his features, before he peels your hand off of your breast to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. 
His other hand has found its way down to your pussy, skilled fingers dragging over your bundle in the rhythm they have long internalized. He knows you like clockwork, knows what gets you going and what makes you take just a little longer. 
“Cum for me,” he pants against the back of your hand, not once breaking eye contact with you. 
You collapse on the tabletop, the coldness of the wood hitting your flushed skin sending a shiver up your spine that goes so devilishly well with the fire that suddenly courses through your veins. 
Just in time with your orgasm washing over you, Aegon places his hand over your mouth to stifle the loud moans and whines, knowing damn well that even though he can hold himself back, the same doesn’t apply to you. 
You squeeze his cock so tightly as you fall apart beneath him, your back inevitably arching off of the table. 
“That’s it, mommy,” he coos while he fucks you through the orgasm, the toe-curling pleasure overtaking your every being. He watches in awe as your face contorts in pleasure, taking pride in it since it’s him that’s responsible for it. 
Only as he feels your body relax and your breathing turn more shallow than heavy does he bring his hand back down to your breast, the aftershocks of your high clearly subsiding. 
Aegon keeps on going despite the overstimulation taking its toll on your body now, clearly racing for his own completion. His other hand shows mercy on your sensitive clit and instead pays attention to your hip, fingers digging into your flesh. 
“Taking me so well, fuck, just a little longer,” he rambles, his head bowing forward to watch where he‘s repeatedly disappearing inside of your tightness. 
Your head lulls back again, and your walls flutter and clench from the overstimulation, in dire need to take his seed and bring it to an end. Both your hands fly to the edge of the table for leverage, while his hands grope every inch of your body they could grasp. 
Being overstimulated by him isn’t new to you, yet the moment the discomfort melts into plain pleasure always mesmerizes you. 
Your body feels as if it’s on fire with the knot in your belly tightening for a second time, the high approaching faster and harder than before. 
“Would’ve fucked a child in you if you weren’t pregnant already,” Aegon mumbles, and you can hear the strain in his voice, seemingly having troubles staying quiet. 
You whine in return, and it must have been the way your walls choke him for a second time, but Aegon brings his hand between your bodies again, pressing his thumb to your sensitive clit. 
“Cum with me,” you all but whine, eager to have his seed paint your walls. “Fill me up, daddy, pleasepleaseplease.”
The interplay of his cock bullying your sweet spot and his thumb dragging over your clit has you toppling over the edge once again, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip to silence yourself. 
But even if you wanted to moan, you couldn’t, not with the white, hot pleasure coursing through your veins. 
Your lips part with no sounds leaving them, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 
It’s not long after that Aegon comes undone, announcing his own orgasm with a stutter of his hips and a hoarse “Fuck, I–” escaping his throat. 
Your clenching walls are milking him for all he got, making sure every drop of his cum is accommodated and doesn’t go to waste. 
Two more thrusts are given to your fluttering pussy before Aegon stills his hips, collapsing forwards with his hands braced right next to the swell of your bump. 
He’s towering over you, a lazy smirk on his lips as he meets your gaze, and beads of sweat cling to his flushed skin. 
You rub your bump in circles as you look up at him, calming yourself as you regain your breathing. 
And you want to speak, but Aegon beats you to it.
“Marry me.”
A gasp escapes you as you process the words, and your belly immediately churns with arousal and desire. 
As his words ring in your ears, you lick your lips and gaze up at him lovingly, though something mischievous glints in your eyes. 
“I thought you’d never ask.”
His face softens, but his lips curl into a smirk. “I was waiting for the right time, but I didn’t know whether it would come at all.”
You giggle at his words, and also roll your eyes, as it was typical Aegon. But even if the moment isn’t perfect, your heart still beats rapidly, having a hard time to handle the overwhelming emotions his proposal causes you. 
“But there’s still going to be a real proposal, right? With a ring and all that?” you tease playfully. 
Aegon chuckles and helps you sit upright again, cupping your belly with both hands. “Of course, you’ll get a beautiful ring and everything else that comes with it. You really think I’d half-ass something like this? You deserve the most extravagant proposal.”
You sigh, savoring the feeling of his hands on your body, his softening cock still inside of you and the weight of his words. 
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
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asongofmarvelanddc · 1 year
Text
Someone. Anyone.
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PAIRING: Aegon II X Reader
WORD COUNT: 4688
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: Aegon has waited his entire life for someone to care.
A/N: This simply refused to leave my brain until it was written down. I can't wait to see more of Aegon II in season 2! As always, please reblog, like, comment, send an ask, a raven – anything! I wanna talk to you guys! ❤️
The days seem to blur together recently. Aegon can’t tell the difference between them anymore, bar something particularly extraordinary happening. No such thing has happened of late and so the days continue to blur.
When Aegon wakes that morning, he half-expects it to be the evening. It’s an odd thing the way he sleeps. Erratic. Some days he rises before the birds, and other days it’s just as supper is being cleared from the dinner table. No one thinks to wake him anymore – probably glad to be rid of his presence.
With a sigh, he shuffles out of bed, groaning when his head pounds in response to being on his feet. The thought of washing before he leaves the room crosses his mind. Briefly. There’s no one around to draw him a bath, and frankly, he’s in no mood to wait. He is hungry, tired…and lonely. But he can only do something about those first two things.
He exits the room looking quite haphazard, but rests easy knowing that no one would dare comment on his ghastly appearance. Most of the servants and guards avoid eye contact as he passes. Aegon takes that to mean that no one has requested his presence somewhere. No one wants to see him.
Even when he sits to eat, he’s left utterly alone. He stares into space as he downs his breakfast. A drink. That’s what he needs. It doesn’t distract from the loneliness anymore – it hasn’t in years – but it dulls the pain at least. He finishes eating, and though he has had his fill, the pit in his stomach remains empty.
Sunfyre.
Perhaps that is who he needs. She always manages to plug the hole in his heart, however temporary it may be. He rises and immediately heads for the dragon pit.
On the way down there he walks past Helaena’s room. The door is ajar, and the laughter of children filters out into the hall. Aegon’s lip twitches as he edges closer to the door. It has been a few days – two, maybe three – since he’s seen the kids. He wants to sit with them, play with them. They’re growing so fast.
He pushes the door open further and slides halfway through, but his smile falters when he realises that his wife and children are not alone.
His brother, Aemond, is sitting on the floor with the children. They’re tugging at his hair, completely unaware of the discomfort they might be causing, while Aemond sits there trying his best to appear annoyed with them. Alicent and Helaena are watching from the lounger, entirely amused by the scene before them.
They seem happy. Happier than they could ever be in his presence at least.
Instead of dampening the mood with his entrance, he quietly slides back out of the room, making sure he isn’t seen or heard. It’s selfish to be hurt by the fact that they are happy without him, but he can’t help it.
He can’t remember a time when his family were happy to see him. His father ignores him, his mother berates him, his brother is disgusted by him, and his wife can’t stand the sight of him….And he’s not entirely sure he can blame them.
He has never been the best version of himself that he could be…but what is the point in being great when all that is expected of him is failure? They all look at him and see nothing of worth. Why prove them otherwise? Worthless he shall continue to be.
Aegon is content to wallow in self-pity for the remainder of the day until he runs into a familiar face upon turning a corner. Although you barely collide, it's enough to startle you and make you jump back.
"Aegon!" you yelp, but quickly recover and bow your head in a more composed manner, "My Prince."
His mood is instantly improved at the sight of you, and he can't say exactly why. He’s paid attention to you, in a way he never has to other young maidens in the castle. At first, it was purely due to the allure of your striking beauty, but soon it became…more.
Your father joined the Small Council only a few months ago, and you've been strolling the halls of the Red Keep since. Not long after your arrival, you joined Aegon for a drink just outside the servants’ quarters and he questioned you about why you accompanied your father to the capital rather than remain at home with your mother and sisters. You clammed up and offered a rather vague explanation that indicated a turbulent relationship with her. Aegon let you be, but since then, he made sure to stop and speak to you whenever you crossed paths.
He wouldn’t call you a friend. No, not at all. However, you are one of the few able to keep up with him when it comes to drink. You don't sigh when he enters a room, nor do you look at him with derision or contempt in your eyes. You laugh at his jokes, so he tells even more for your sake. Because he wants you to enjoy his company as much as he does yours.
He's starting to care, and though it terrifies him, it's better than anything he's felt for years.
"My Lady." Taking your hand, he turns it over so the palm is facing upwards. He raises a brow and looks up at you, "I see you have been drawing again."
It's the charcoal dust on your fingers that gives it away. He's aware of your hobby – drawing various flowers and documenting their differences and similarities. You swear it'll be useful to the maesters one day. Aegon is not so sure, but he doesn't share those thoughts because he sees how happy it makes you.
"Someone ought to do it," you shrug and wipe your hands on the small purse slung across your body, "If I don't, who will?"
"Is that where you are off to in such a hurry?"
"No," you sigh heavily and roll your eyes as you seem to recall something of particular annoyance, "Do you know that there are weeds growing in the godswood?"
"Weeds?"
"Weeds!" you repeat, even more concerned, "I have asked the gardener to prune them but it doesn’t seem to have been done properly. So, I have decided to do it myself."
Your passion is infectious, it breathes life into him. He cares not about the art of gardening, but he cares about you, your interests. It pains him to admit that he craves the idea of being a part of your life, in any and all ways.
"I shall join you," he says after a moment of thought, "If you will have me."
It's a silly question to ask, one to which you don't bother responding for he knows the answer is always 'yes'. Aegon walks alongside you, occasionally glancing at each other, but not knowing what to say. He’s always like this when he hasn’t had a drink.
"I called on you earlier. I was told you were still asleep."
Most are rarely happy to see Aegon, much less purposely seeking him out. This is unusual for him.
“I was, I only woke a short while ago,” he says, “Were you after something?”
You look up at him with a cheery smile, "No, I just wanted to spend time with you."
He frowns in confusion, "Why?"
You come to a sudden stop and look up at him properly, a soft pout forming on your lips, "You and I are friends, are we not?"
Friends. He cannot say that he has ever had one. Every person he has ever spent a reasonably enjoyable time with was either paid to be accommodating, or did so out of mere obligation. Everyone but you.
"Besides, who's to say you and I will even have the chance to speak at the feast later?" you say with a chuckle.
"We are to have a feast tonight?"
Your brows crease as you search his eyes for any sign that he may be teasing, “Today is your Name Day. Have you forgotten?”
You state it as if it is the most obvious thing to remember.
“No, I–,” he stutters as he tries to recall the date, “No one told me...”
Aegon retreats into his own mind. Until this very moment, he had completely forgotten that this is meant to be a day of celebration. Normally his mother would be dragging him out of bed first thing in the morning, and there would be some attempt from his family to spend time together. But today has been like all the rest, and they have chosen to exclude him.
That is expected. Forgetting his own Name Day is not. It's a painful thing when no one seems to care, but it's terrifying to know that he is starting to care less about himself.
"I'm sure your mother is preparing a banquet that shall be the talk of the Kingdoms," you gently touch his arm, a level of tenderness he can’t remember when last he received.
Aegon looks into your eyes, a ray of light in this haze of misery he calls a life. And just like that, he doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.
***
As the honoured guest, Aegon is seated at the head of the High Table, his mother and grandsire on either side of him along with his siblings and children. But somehow, as the night goes on, Aegon climbs down from the raised platform and joins you at one of the tables meant for the Small Council members and their families.
Although you are flattered, people are staring because it is not in fact common for the Heir to ignore most of the guests at his own Name Day feast in order to spend time with the Master of Coin's daughter.
No matter. You do your best to ignore them just as Aegon seems to do.
Slouched in his chair, right leg up on the table and his left hand holding a goblet of wine, you can’t help noticing that he isn't drunk – yet – and you hope it stays that way for the evening. He engages you in a heated discussion about whether or not the dance being performed by the guests is worth watching. You are of the strong opinion that it is entertaining to watch and romantic when participating.
Aegon shoots you a look of incredulity, "They are not even touching!"
"Yes, because this dance is about the simple intimacy of the near-touch," you hover your palms close together to imitate one of the dance moves.
Aegon scoffs and sips his drink, "There is nothing intimate about not touching your dance partner."
"True intimacy is about when you–" he stops himself and laughs, shaking his head, "I suppose it would be improper of me to divulge such salacious secrets to a virtuous maiden such as yourself, my Lady."
You roll your eyes at his condescending tone and shove him playfully in the shoulder which makes him laugh.
“Lady Y/N!” ha gasps in faux horror, “You just touched me! How will we ever know the meaning of true intimacy now?”
You laugh and shove him again, earning even more looks from the people around. Quickly you quiet down and focus on Aegon again. He's watching the dancers but you're looking at him.
Even half-drunk, with tousled hair from constantly running his hand through the cropped locks and red-rimmed eyes, you still find him beautiful. You feel the urge to reach out and touch his cheek or his hair, but stop yourself from doing something so inappropriate in public.
Besides, who knows how Aegon would react to such a thing?
“You truly don’t believe two people can share an intimate moment without touching?”
He chuckles at first, ready to brush off the question with a silly joke, but when he turns to you and senses how serious you are, his eyes soften.
There is many a moment you've shared with Aegon that you would consider intimate, and not once have you touched him during them. You want to know that he feels the same way about those moments. You need to know.
He holds your gaze for some time, and you can't be sure what he is thinking about, then he answers in a low voice, "Perhaps..."
He glances down at your lips, it is only for a second, but you catch it anyway. Aegon knows this, but it does not make him lean back into his chair, nor pretend to be embarrassed.
"There are people looking at us," you whisper, glancing around the room at the obvious stares, "Could we go somewhere?"
He frowns, "Why?"
"I want to give you your gift."
***
Aegon follows you to a less visible corner of the room. He doesn't truly care about what this gift may be, he is only happy to be alone with you away from prying eyes.
He watches as you reach into a hidden zip in the front of your dress, a clever design, and pull out an oval shaped case. It rattles when you pull it out so there is clearly something hidden inside. You step closer to him and press the case into the palm of his hand, practically shaking with excitement.
Whatever it is, it's small, which is quite an unusual kind of gift for Aegon. He often receives famous first edition books, expensive fabrics and custom-made swords for his Name Day. The gifts are piled high on the other end of the room at this very moment.
"Will you open it?"
Aegon, amused by your visible excitement and anticipation, snaps the case open. Inside is a golden insignia ring displaying the three heads of the dragon, perfectly etched into metal.
“It was supposed to be black and red, like the sigil of your House, but I think I like it better in gold,” you say, a look of pride in your eyes as you look down at your gift, “When it catches the light, it shimmers like the scales on Sunfyre.”
You smile as you tilt the ring towards the candle above you, “You see?”
Aegon can’t say for sure if your assertion is true because he doesn’t look to inspect the ring. Instead his gaze stays fixed on you, confused and in awe. He has been showered with gifts since before he had memories of his Name Day, but none as thoughtful as this.
When he glances down at the ring, he notices an inscription on the inside of the band. "To my dearest Prince, Aegon," it reads in High Valyrian.
"You added this?"
"There wasn't much space to have any more inscribed," you say, "But I had Aemond translate it to High Valyrian for me because I wanted it to mean something to you."
He doesn't know what to say. The gift is so small, yet sentimental. No one has ever offered him such kindness, and Aegon doesn't believe he deserves it. His entire life he has longed for someone, anyone, to care about him. Not Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, Heir to the Iron Throne – just him. He is not used to receiving such compassion and doesn’t know how to respond to it.
He ignores the stinging of tears behind his eyes and clears his throat.
"Thank you, Y/N," he says as he slips the ring onto his pinky finger, "I shall wear it always."
Your heart swells as he kisses the ring.
"I know it is improper for a Lady to ask," you begin, already feeling the burn of embarrassment on your cheeks, "But would you care to dance, my Prince?"
Aegon is beyond flattered and kicks himself for not asking first. He does not want you to think that he is not eager, when it is in fact the opposite.
"I would–" he cuts himself off at the sight of his mother approaching from behind you.
A frown carves itself into his lips, "I would love to, but it seems my mother wants to have a word."
You look behind you and nod in understanding when you see Alicent walking up, "Of course. Perhaps later then?"
He nods with a smile, "Don't tire yourself out."
You bow to the Queen Mother as you excuse yourself, glancing back at Aegon when you walk away.
Alicent sidles up to Aegon’s side, a goblet of wine in her hands. “I see you’ve grown quite close to Lady Y/N as of late,” she says, “You’re fond of her?”
Aegon’s brows furrow as he looks down at his mother. He’s not sure where she is going with this and thinks to lie, but even he knows he can’t deceive her.
“I am,” he answers, looking away from her and searching for you with his eyes.
Alicent nods slowly and sips from her cup, “She’s beautiful, is she not?”
Aegon finally spots you among the dancers, floating across the floor with Tyland Lannister as your partner. His heart warms as you laugh at something the man says, your smile tugging at something that has long been buried within him. As if you can feel his eyes on you, you turn your head to look at him, throwing him a wink.
“I suppose she is,” he responds absent-mindedly to Alicent's question as the corner of his lips begin to turn up.
Alicent looks at him again, growing more and more irritated as the seconds go by.
"I hear her father intends to propose a marriage for her to Tyland Lannister."
Aegon's head snaps towards his mother.
"Tyland Lannister?" he gasps violently, "He is an old man!"
In truth, Tyland Lannister is a mere six and thirty – not considered old by the country’s standards.
"He is the Master of Ships and brother to the Warden of the West," she says, ignoring the outburst, "A Lannister is a good match for her."
Over my dead body, he thinks. There is not a reality Aegon is willing to accept in which you belong to somebody else. If he must claim you as his wife, then he will. Just as Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, so it shall be for Aegon II. The thought of you being wed to another man not only makes him angry, it is sickening.
“Aegon.” He is torn away from his thoughts of you by his mother’s stern voice.
This conversation is annoying and agitating. He does not want to hear it. He wants to go to you, to tear you away from that Lannister Lord and take you somewhere you can be alone together.
"Whether it is to Tyland Lannister or some other nobleman, she will be wed," Alicent says, her firm tone taking on a desperate edge, "Her father sits on the Small Council. She will be married to a decent man someday who will make her a good husband."
His scowl deepens. "Why are you telling me all this, Mother?"
"Because she is not like one of your whores, Aegon,” she turns to face him fully, though he avoids her eyes, “You cannot sully her skirts with your debauchery. You must leave her alone.”
Aegon has never believed that he is good enough for you, nor that he even deserves your friendship. It is why he has kept you at a distance as much as he can. Too selfish to completely let you go, but also afraid that one day, you will see him as he is and abandon him. His mother has just taken that fear, and in a few words, beaten him over the head with it.
Does she not see that he is trying? He has not stepped foot in a pleasure house in some weeks now. And though he still drinks, he does not do it until he loses his senses anymore. The days no longer blur, and he wakes eager to start them. That emptiness that tormented him so, it has faded.
Does she really not see?
Devastated does not convey the intensity of the pain that descends upon Aegon in that moment. His efforts to do better, to be better, have gone completely unnoticed by the one who chastises him the most for his self-indulgence and lechery.
“Aegon,” she says again, pulling on his arm, “Promise me that you will leave that girl alone.”
Aegon glances in your direction. You’re still dancing, but with a different partner now. Blissfully unaware that his heart has just been shattered into pieces.
“I promise,” he grunts.
As soon as he says the words, Alicent leaves his side, no longer needing to be in his presence.
Aegon stumbles, a bit overwhelmed in the moment as he looks around the room for something, anything, to distract him from the shame and embarrassment he feels. He spots a pitcher of wine on the corner of a table by him and swipes it, heading down to the cellars of the Keep.
***
Aegon promised you a dance, but after searching for him for close to an hour, you find him in the cellars with Balerion, sitting against the stone wall, legs spread out in front of him as he stares at the dragon’s skull. A wine chalice lies discarded by his side, spilling out what was left of its contents.
Aegon does not react as you walk towards him. Even when you stand right in front of him he doesn’t look up at you. He is completely out of it, and the sight makes you let out a deep sigh.
You move beside him and slide down the wall, choosing to sit quietly with him. Aegon drinks wine like it is water, but to get like this, something must have upset him. You don’t ask him about it. He always wants someone to listen, because of that you never have to press him to share his thoughts.
“What is worse than hate?”
Those are the first words that leave his lips after almost an hour of silence. He’s still staring up at Balerion as he speaks, but his arms are now resting on his knees which are pulled up to his chest. Though he is right beside you, he feels a million miles away.
You ponder the question some, but can’t quite offer a response, “I can’t imagine there is anything worse than hate.”
“Indifference,” he answers, nodding to himself, “It is empty. Hollow. Lonely.”
Finally, he looks at you with tear-filled, bloodshot eyes, “That is all I see when my family looks at me.”
Your heart breaks for him, and a lump forms in your throat as you try not to cry.
“Aegon,” you whisper, voice shaking, “Your family do not hate you. Nor are they indifferent.”
He laughs bitterly as his head rolls back to rest against the wall. “You do not have to lie to make me feel better,” he says, “That is what the whores are for.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, preferring the sting of physical pain than the one caused by his words.
“It’s the drink making you feel this way.”
His head rolls to the side so he’s looking at you again, though at an angle. At first, he doesn’t speak and it sends your mind racing as you try to guess what he might be thinking in that clouded head of his.
“Without the drink, I sink into a hole of despair,” his eyes soften, “A hole…I fear I may never climb out of.”
You hate seeing him like this. So broken and worn down by what he sees as a burdensome life.
Aegon’s eyes shift from you to the ground when he feels you trying to lace your fingers through his. He shakes his head and draws back, burying his face in his hands. This is the first time he’s rejected the comfort you offer. He is in a worse state than you imagined and you don’t know what brought him to this.
“Aegon,” his name falls from your lips like a desperate plea. You reach out to pull his hands away from his face, but even that won’t make him look at you.
You look down at your hand as tears begin to well in your eyes. “I’m not indifferent,” you mumble, but in the quiet, the words come out clear as day, “And I don’t hate you, Aegon.”
That seems to stir something in him. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, as though he is suspicious. But the longer he looks, the suspicion fades. And without a second thought, he reaches over and grabs your head in his hands, roughly capturing your lips in a kiss.
His lips taste of wine and salt from the tears now freely spilling down his cheeks. Everywhere his hands find, they grip you tight, afraid to let you go. And you melt into him, promising him with every kiss and every tug that you won’t leave.
You don’t care that his kiss is not the sweet and tender one you imagined. It’s rough, needy and desperate, noses bumping into each other and hands fumbling against your bodies as he pulls you into his lap – a motion only made possible because you want it to be.
All you can think about is how you can’t get enough of this. Of him. Day and night he has consumed your thoughts, dreaming of being held and kissed and touched by him. His sad eyes plagued your mind from the first night you spoke with him. You knew he had burrowed himself deep in your heart the first time you got down on your knees in the Sept and prayed for his healing.
But even now, as his lips merge themselves to yours, his hands sliding up your thighs, you can’t enjoy the moment fully. Because he’s drowning. His heart is broken, and you’re not sure you can fix it.
Just as the thought crosses your mind, he pulls away from you – though, even that seems hard for him to do.
“Aegon…?”
He opens those beautiful sad eyes again and upon meeting yours, shakes his head. He’s fighting with himself, with what he ought to do and what he wants to do. What he needs from you.
He looks up at you again and gently strokes your cheek.
“I don’t want to debase you,” he chokes out, looking like he is in physical pain.
“How could you debase me?”
“I can’t–” He grips your face tightly and pulls you closer, searching your eyes in desperation.
More tears spill over and roll down his cheeks. “You are far too precious to me.”
The pain in his eyes is so raw you can practically see him twisting the knife in his own heart. He’s clinging to you for life while begging you to let him go. He doesn’t know that if you let him succumb, the darkness will consume you too.
“And what do you think you are to me?” you whisper, hands cupping his face, “A rarity. The person I love.”
His grip softens and his eyes widen.
“You love me?”
“More than anything,” you say without any hesitation.
He stares at you in awe, fingers tracing your cheeks and jaw and lips. You cannot say if he is in the room with you in this moment, or if his mind is somewhere else. As if snapped back to his senses, he sucks in a stuttered breath and his gaze refocuses.
“You love me?” he asks again, voice breaking as he speaks.
The last of his resolve breaks when you nod again. Burying his head into your chest, he begins to sob uncontrollably, arms squeezing around your waist as he holds onto you.
With trembling lips, you place a kiss to the top of his head, your tears soaking through his silver hair.
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