#aegon ii x reader

[gtgbabie0]

-Aegon Targaryen x Barmaid!Reader

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

Enjoy lovelies 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nyrasbloodyclover]

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

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

[m1ndbrand]

Aegon: So you like Aemond?

Y/N: Yes...Thoughts?

Aegon: and prayers, girl what

[valeskafics]

"The Seven Heavens" - Dark King!Aegon Targaryen II x Septa Sister!Reader

a/n: i haven't written a solo aegon canon era oneshot in a while and we all know how i feel about succin n fuccin on the throne

Summary: One of Aegon's first acts as king is calling you back, his sweet twin sister who raced away to become a septa before he could properly claim you.

TW: dubcon, canon typical incest, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, religion kink, corruption kink, tiddy succin, oral f receiving, fingering, overstim, loss of virginity, p in v sex, breeding kink, aegon is a tw in and of himself, TECHNICALLY infidelity on aegon's part but like lowkey he wants to marry reader too so idk, semu public sex

Word Count: 2,500 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

The moment Aegon’s ill-fated coronation has come to an end, he immediately demands your return to the Red Keep. He sees the trepidation in his mother’s eyes as he says this at a small council meeting, an unusually hard edge to his voice. He will make no compromise on this, it would seem.

He wants his twin sister back in the Red Keep, the Starry Sept be damned. He is the king now and his word is as good as that of the gods. So, it is with a heavy heart that the dowager queen writes to Oldtown, requesting that you be sent back as soon as possible.

You arrive a fortnight later, confused at being called home. Your mother greets you with a soft kiss to your forehead, a small smile on her face. Despite the circumstances, you are her eldest daughter and she is pleased to have you home. She compliments your septa’s robes, how graceful you look and that the Starry Sept is lucky to have a novice like you. Though you know pride is a sin and not one of the Seven Virtues, you cannot help but be filled with it at your mother’s praise. Your entire childhood was spent seeking the validation of both her and your father, and to finally have it makes you beam with joy.

But, that joy is short-lived as she leads you to the throne room, only to be immediately dismissed by your twin.

The reason you felt it necessary to become a septa in the first place. You can feel those lilac eyes on you as you walk toward the throne, your gaze averted. You cannot bear to look at him. Not now. You hear his voice, the sound of which makes your stomach turn with anticipation as he says your name in that deep timbre.

“Brother,” you reply quietly, dipping into a low curtsy at the steps leading up to the throne, still not meeting his eyes, “Why have you summoned me here?”

“Come closer, sister. I can hardly hear you from down there.”

You wince, hearing the hunger in his voice as you gather the skirts of your robe and ascend the steps to the throne, standing directly before him, staring at the floor as you repeat your query, though deep down, both of you know that he needn’t answer. You know and he knows why he has called you back. You hear him shift, standing up as he takes a step toward you, lifting your chin so that you are forced to face him, six years after you left his side.

“My twin,” Aegon murmurs, “The only one who has ever understood me. You know why you are here.”

You take a deep breath, looking into those lavender eyes, the ones that you so wished to have as a girl, cursing yourself for being born with your mother’s hair color and eyes while your twin seemed so beautiful in an almost unearthly way. While Aegon? He hates the coldness of his platinum hair, his purple eyes. The warmth of yours is what he has always longed for.

“I am needed at the Starry Sept, Your Grace,” you say as he runs his thumb over your lower lip, attempting to keep some degree of formality between the two of you, “Please tell me what it is you need of me so that I may be done with it and return to where I belong.”

Aegon chuckles, shaking his head, “You do not truly think that I have had you returned to me after all these years only to let you go back to rotting in that sept, sister? You know. You must know how I have longed for you all these years. How my love for you has never once wavered.”

“Please do not talk like that, Aegon,” you plead, “I have chosen to give my life to the Faith. You know this.”

You nearly gasp as he moves to grab you by the chin, forcing your face closer to his, his eyes narrowed, “We belong together. We always have, since the moment we came into this world, we have belonged together and to each other. You were always meant to be my queen. My wife.”

“We are twins, of course we have a connection,” you attempt to reason, shifting uncomfortably in his grip, “But it is only that. A connection, one of familial love. You are married to Helaena. She is your queen. You are bound by the sacred bond of holy matrimony-”

His grip on you tightens as he lowers his voice, his breath tickling your face as he leans in ever closer, “You know I never wanted Helaena. I have loved you ever since I was a boy. My heart, my soul, they have always been yours.”

“And that is exactly why I became a septa,” you retort, “Aegon, you know I have never believed in the Targaryen tradition of marrying within the bloodline. To do so is one of the greatest of all sins, a direct affront to the Seven-”

You let out a cry of surprise as his free hand wraps around your waist, pulling you flush up against his body, chest to chest as he gazes into your eyes, making no attempt to hide his lust, his love. His voice is still low, laced with seduction, wanting nothing more than to make you bend to his will. He is the king and he will have what he wants.

“Sin never stopped us before.”

You turn your face from him, his words giving you cause for shame as you remember the secret kisses and touches you shared in your teenage years before realizing what you were doing was wrong. Before you confided in your mother and fled to Oldtown.

“Just because you are king now does not mean you can take me from the sept.”

Aegon jerks your face back toward him, lips upturned in a smile with bite behind it, his voice becoming a low hiss as he replies, “Oh, on the contrary, my dear little septa, that is exactly what it means. My word is law.”

You glare up at him, and finally, Aegon sees that your veneer of a serene woman of the Faith is beginning to crack, the fire in your blood beginning to show after years of remaining at bay as you snap, “Go back to our sister. Your wife. Let me return to where it is I belong.”

He shakes his head, giving you a mocking smile, “Your heart belongs to me. You know it. You felt it the first time my lips touched yours. The first time I confessed my love for you.” His lips brush against your ear as his words grow more lewd, “You remember the first time I touched you, the way you quaked in my arms as I brought you to your peak with just the touch of my hands. And now? When you lay in your room in that sept, it is me your thoughts drift to, me who stirs you to passion. Always me.”

You shake your head vehemently, “I knew it was wrong when we did that. It is why I left. The way you looked at me was never the way a brother is meant to look at his sister. It is why I went to Oldtown.”

Aegon’s fingers dig into your cheeks, almost enough to cause pain but not quite. You know what this is. This is his reminder that it is he who is in control.

“I want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone.” Aegon runs his nose along yours, lips nearly brushing against yours, “I can see it in your eyes even now. Your fear, your shame. You speak of virtue, of the Seven, and yet your body craves me. It always has.” His hand moves from your cheek down to your neck, fingers grazing against your throat, smirking as your breath hitches, “When you finally give yourself to me, it will be the greatest pleasure you have ever felt.” You shiver at his touch, your pleas for him to stop falling on deaf ears as he continues, “I can feel your skin. So smooth and soft, need to feel it against my lips. But I know you are a good septa. A woman of the Faith. And yet I must ask.” He tilts your chin up to face him once again, leaning his forehead in against yours, “What can be so sinful about love? Is that not the greatest virtue of all?”

“Not your kind of love. Not possession. Not lust. It is sin.”

“Even if it is a sin,” Aegon murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “Who could truly oppose the king?”

“Aemond,” you say boldly, “He would stop you.”

Your little brother has always been so protective over you and Helaena. You thought for certain your words would give Aegon reason for pause. But he just laughs, a cruel, mocking laugh, his hand moving to your headdress, gripping your hair through the fabric.

“And what could our little brother do to stop me?” Aegon runs his other hand along your jaw, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, “He knows his place in the end. He will do as I tell him. My loyal dog.”

You know his words are true, yet, your eyes still sting with unshed tears as you reply, “Mother will never forgive you.”

He scoffs, “Mother. I know you think she was so caring of our feelings. Of our dreams. But did she ever truly understand us? Did she ever even try? Did she know of your lust, sister? Your shame? How you desired your dear brother, despite all the piety she tried to preach to you? All the modesty she tried to instill in you? It was all for naught when I had my fingers buried inside your cunt and you were squeezing around me like a common whore.” His words feel like a slap to your face, and once again, you try to turn from him but he forces you to look him in the eyes, “I know you. I know you as no other does. I know what makes your heart pound, what makes you wet between your thighs, your most intimate desires. What you think about late at night, when your eyes close and your fingers wander.”

You gasp as he kisses you, crushing you against his chest. His lips are forceful and rough against yours as he holds you tight, pushing his tongue into your mouth, kissing you as if he wishes to consume your very being. He rips your headdress off, your dark curls that look so like your mother’s tumbling free, ignoring your protests, gripping you even harder. You whimper softly as he pulls you to straddle his lap as he sits on the throne, telling him that this is madness, that he must stop. But Aegon pays you no mind, his lips moving to your neck, one hand sliding under the fabric of your robes while the other tugs at your sash, nipping at your sensitive skin.

“You want this. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you cannot lie to me.”

“No,” you say, though you know it is a blatant lie, the subtle throbbing between your legs serving as indication of that, your voice trembling as your robes fall to the floor, leaving you entirely bare before his greedy eyes, “Aegon, please-”

“It’s alright, my sweet septa,” he purrs, hands moving up to caress your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with his hands, loving the way you tremble at his touch, his voice a warm, husky whisper against your ear, “I need you and you need me, sister.”

“But Helaena-”

“The Conqueror had both his wives as sisters. He married Visenya for duty and Rhaenys for love.” He nips at your earlobe, “You will be my Rhaenys. For every night I lie with Helaena, I will spend an entire moon with you, filling you with my seed, stuffing you full of my cock.”

Aegon knows his words are having the intended effect when he moves his fingers between your thighs, feeling how wet your cunt is just at kissing him like this, stroking you there as his lips move to suckle at your breasts, teeth grazing against them ever so gently. You moan sofrly at his touch.

“The realm will never agree-”

“I’ll do whatever I please,” he snickers against you, nipping at your breasts, “I am the king. You want this. As do I.”

You yelp slightly as he moves to seat you on the throne, kneeling between your thighs, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on them before pressing one to your mound, making you mewl, squirming against the cool metal of the throne, every nerve ending in your body on fire, “Aegon, someone could walk in-”

“Then let them,” he grins wickedly, eyes blazing with lust, “Let them see how much a king is meant to love his queen. How I worship your body.”

You gasp as he laps at your folds, gripping the throne tightly though the blades of your ancestor’s defeated enemies never once draw your blood. Aegon lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder as he continues fucking you with his tongue, the vibrations from the way he moans against you adding a new dimension to the pleasure he gives. You whimper, pleading for him to slow down, the crescendo inside you building, your pleasure rising, belly going tight. Then, he moves his lips to circle your sensitive pearl, making you come undone with a near sob of his name, your thighs trembling, hands moving to grasp at his hair as you grind yourself against his face. Aegon continues licking at you, suckling through your climax, adding his fingers for good measure while his tongue flattens against your sensitive bud, wrenching another peak from you as he hooks his fingers, rubbing against your sweet spot.

He moves to sit on the throne again, undoing his breeches and moving you to straddle his lap. You look at him shocked, shaking your head, stating that you are still a maiden.

“Your maidenhead was always meant to be mine,” Aegon rasps as he pushes the fat head of his cock against you, making you wince at the sting as he enters you, “So fucking tight. My pure little sister, sweet little septa.”

He bounces you up and down on his cock, loving the way you react to his touch, your cries of his name, the way your breasts bounce in his face, how warm and wet you are around him, the way you squeeze him so tight.

If this is an affront to the Seven, he cares not, because as far as he is concerned, the Seven Heavens themselves are buried between your thighs, and that is precisely where he intends to spend the rest of his life.

[daemontargaryenwhore]

“do something else” and he did alcoholism

(Aegon version)

[fragileheartbeats]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

♡ ⭒ㅤ𓈒 dohaeriros daor ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ㅤ྄

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑒𝑛 𝑀𝑒𝑛 𝑥 𝑆𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶ㅤ۫ㅤ𝅄ೀ

— 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐, 𝘔𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳, 𝘑𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐, 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘉𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯, 𝘈𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘐𝘐𝘐, 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑹 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬

She was his queen, his one true love, A goddess in his eyes, sent from above. Her smile, her voice, her every move, He adored her deeply, his heart did prove. With every breath, he praised her name, For she was more than just a mere dame. Her beauty, her radiance, her soul so pure, Made his heart skip a beat, that was for sure. He treated her like a precious gem, For she was the one who completed him. Her love was a divine blessing, A gift that his heart would always be confessing. His love for her was like a burning flame, That never seemed to flicker or be tamed. He would go to any lengths to see her smile, For her happiness was what made his life worthwhile. He built monuments in her honor, For she was his queen, his forever love and lover. He wrote her love letters, filled with poetic words, Expressing his love for her, like beautiful birds. The people of the kingdoms marveled in awe, As they witnessed the king's love for his queen, raw. They envied the love they shared, so pure and true, For it was a love that only a chosen few could pursue. He showered her with gifts, sparkling and rare, For her, he would conquer any fear or dare. For she was his everything, his heart did sing, He would give anything to see her happy and gleaming. In her presence, he felt like a mere mortal, For she was a goddess, in his eyes, immortal. He promised to love and cherish her till eternity, For she was his true love, his one and only divinity. As the years passed and their love grew, The king and his queen, together they drew. A love story so beautiful, so pure and divine, Their love was worshiped, like a heavenly shrine.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑼𝑬𝑳 ─ ⸸ . ♡𝆬

Her beauty was a sight to behold, Her grace and charm, worth more than gold, He would lavish her with jewels and gold, But little did she know, he was cruel and cold. He would sing to her under the moonlit sky, Her smile was his only source of joy, But beneath the façade of love and bliss, Lurked his twisted ways, something amiss. He would shower her with sweet words and praise, But behind closed doors, her happiness would erase, For he was jealous and possessive, His love for her was obsessive. He'd lock her up in a tower so high, The only view, the darkened sky, For he feared she'd leave him, his love undone, But in truth, he was the one who had her on the run. He'd force her to dance in a fiery ring, Her feet scorched, her body aching, But he couldn't see her pain and tears, For his love for her had blinded him for years. He'd send her away to faraway lands, In hopes that she'd forget his cruel demands, But no matter where she'd go, His love for her would never let her go. His love for her was a twisted fate, For her, he'd do anything, even if it meant hate, For she was his goddess, his everything, But in his love, there was no healing. As she lay dying in his arms, He realized the extent of his harm, For his love had become a dark obsession, A beautiful tragedy, without a confession. The king loved his sister, but at what cost? For his love, she paid the ultimate cost, A beautiful soul, destroyed by his hand, Leaving behind a broken king, in a cruel and lonely land.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑺𝑬 ─ ✦ . ♡𝆬

He worshiped her, with every breath he took, For she was his light, in a world that was so shook. Her every move, her every smile, Was like a blessing, that made his heart worthwhile. He showered her with love, like petals from a rose, And in her presence, his heart would carefully compose. Words of adoration, that flowed from his soul, For no other could fulfill, his lover's role. He adorned her with jewels, fit for a queen, And treasured her, like a prized possession unseen. Her happiness, was all he ever desired, And in return, his heart felt so inspired. He would lay at her feet, like a humble servant, And gaze at her beauty, with eyes so fervent. For in his eyes, she was more than a lover, She was a goddess, that he would forever discover. He proclaimed her, as the queen of his wisdom, Her radiance, would illuminate the skies. And in her presence, he would feel so alive. With every passing day, his love grew stronger, For in her arms, he knew he belonged there longer. He would sing her praises, like a sweet melody, For she was his world, his everything, his destiny. He would kneel before her, with palms open wide, And pledge his heart, to her for all of time. For she was his goddess, his queen, his love, Pure and true, like an angel from above. The kingdom knew, of their love so pure, For in their eyes, it was hard to ignore. They were like two flames, that burned as one, With a love so strong, it could never come undone. And in the end, when their time had passed, His love for her, would forever last. For she was his goddess, his queen, his heart, And nothing in this world could ever tear them apart.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ 𖤐 . ♡𝆬

He stands tall, a prince of the wild, With heart ablaze and passion filed. Her beauty like a dazzling light, Enchants his soul, a love so right. He worships her with every breath, His love, a never-ending quest. Her grace and elegance, a sight to behold, In her arms, his heart gently unfolds. She is his goddess, his heart's desire, Every thought, every dream she does inspire. He bows before her, in devotion and awe, His love for her, an unbreakable law. Her smile, like sunshine, lights up his world, Her touch, like magic, makes his heart twirl. He'll climb mountains and swim the seas, Just to show her his love, his eternal loyalty. He seeks her approval, her every nod, For her love, he'll go above and beyond. He'll slay dragons and fight with might, Just to make her happy, to see her light. She is his queen, his everything, In her arms, he feels like a king. Her love, a precious gift he'll never take for granted, For she is his world, his everything, his enchanted. In her eyes, he sees the reflection of his soul, In her heart, he finds his truest role. He'll love her till the end of time, For she is his goddess, his love sublime. As the winds whisper his name in her ear, He'll hold her close and wipe away her every fear. With every breath, he'll worship her divine, His beautiful sister, forever his, till the end of time.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐁𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ✿ . ♡𝆬

He walks with grace and noble charm, A prince so fair, without a qualm, But in his heart, there's no denying, His love for her, forever flying. With every step, his heart beats faster, As he approaches his beautiful sister, For she is his shining star, The one he loves, both near and far. Her beauty pure and unmatched, Her kindness, something to be matched, To him, she's more than just a sister, She's a love, like no other. With gentle hands, he cups her face, And gazes upon her with such grace, Whispers sweet words, for her to hear, For she's the one he holds so dear. Through the good times and through the bad, His love for her will never be sad, For she's his light, his guiding force, The one who's always his main course. He showers her with gifts and praise, For he's grateful for her loving ways, He'll do whatever it takes, To make her smile, for her heart's sake. In her eyes, he sees his future, A love so pure, there's no need to nurture, For it blooms like a flower in spring, And forever it will continue to bring. She's his queen, his one true cure, Her touch, her kiss, fills him with bliss, And he knows he'll never miss. Together they dance in the moonlight, Their love shining so bright, And in his arms, she feels so safe, For she knows he'll never waif. He'll continue to worship her, For she's his goddess, his everything and more, And in her eyes, he sees his true self, For she's the one that completes his wealth.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑫 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ ✞ . ♡𝆬

His mind was filled with twisted love, For his sister who came from above. She was his everything, his world, Her beauty, his heart had unfurled. But in her eyes, he saw only fear, As he whispered words in her ear. He built a temple in her name, Where he would worship, proclaim. His love for her, his queen divine, But little did she know, it was her prison to confine. The king would offer sacrifices, In hopes of pleasing her, his vices. For her, he would do anything, Even if it meant causing suffering. The people feared the mad king's reign, As they witnessed his love turn to pain. For he would torture and destroy, In the name of his beloved, oh how he would deploy. But she did not love him in return, For her, he would have to yearn. Still, he clung to his delusion, Of her being his ultimate fusion. The madness consumed him, bit by bit, As he worshipped her, his love not legit. But to him, she was his everything, And he would do anything, even the most gruesome offering. The kingdoms plagued by his twisted obsession, As he ruled with no sense or discretion. The people cried out, for mercy they plead, But the king's love for her was all he would heed. In the end, it was not love that destroyed, But the king's obsession, his heart void. For his lover was nothing but a fantasy, And in his madness, he had lost all sanity. And so, the mad king's reign came to an end, But his love for her would never bend. For even in death, he worshipped her still, His obsession, a twisted love that would never fulfill.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑮𝑮𝑨𝑹 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 ─ ＊ . ♡𝆬

He stood in awe, before her grace, His eyes adored her angelic face. Every night, he'd kneel at her feet, His heart filled with love, so deep and sweet. She was his light, in a world of darkness, Her touch, his only source of solace. Her voice, like music to his ears, In her presence, he had no fears. He worshipped her, like a deity, Lost in her beauty, he found his sanity. Her every move, a work of art, She held his heart, never to depart. But beneath her gentle facade, Lies a darkness, that he cannot dodge. She's a storm, brewing in disguise, And he's just a fragile, helpless prize. He tried to please her, in every way,But her love was fleeting, like a summer day. It burned bright, then faded away, Leaving him in darkness, to decay. He denied the truth, refusing to see, That she was not the goddess, he thought her to be. But a mortal, with flaws and scars, That he couldn't heal, no matter how hard. Yet still he worshipped, with all his might, For she was his drug, his source of light. Unable to break free, from her spell, He remained, in this hell. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to years, But his love for her, never disappeared. Even as she tore him apart, He couldn't help but worship her heart. In the end, he sacrificed it all, For a love that was destined to fall. But he couldn't bear to live, without her by his side, Even if it meant, he had to die. And so his story, came to an end, A tragic tale, of a love that couldn't mend. A man who worshipped, his lover till the end, But sadly, she was never meant to be his.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬 ─ ♫ . ♡𝆬

Every morning, he'd wake up, With her face in his mind, He'd serenade her with love songs, And make her heart skip a beat, so divine. With every sunrise, his love grew stronger, He was her loyal knight, He'd shower her with flowers, And hold her hand, ever so tight. Her voice was like music to his ears, Her laughter, a symphony, He'd do anything to bring a smile to her face, For her happiness was his source of glee. He'd write her love letters, With every word, he'd pour his heart, She was his fairy tale come true, His one true love, they'd never part. He'd make her feel like a queen, In his kingdom of love, With her by his side, He had the strength to conquer the world above. Their love was a storybook romance, With each chapter better than the last, He was grateful for her presence in his life, For her, he'd go through the toughest task. So here's to the lovely prince, His love so pure and true, For his lover, he'd move mountains, Forever and always, they'll say 'I do.' And so, ends the tale of this prince, Whose love was like a never-ending dance, In their hearts, they'll hold each other tight, For their love was a beautiful, sweet and romantic delight.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬-𝑬𝒀𝑬 ─ 𓆸 . ♡𝆬

His love knew no boundaries, no limits, no fear, His devotion to her, forever sincere. He was her protector, her shield, her knight, Obsessed with her safety, day and night. For she was his world, his very reason to live, His love for her, he would never forgive. In his eyes, she was the brightest star, Whose light outshone the sun from afar. Her every move, her every smile, Sent his heart racing, mile by mile. He was her shadow, her ever-present guard, A brother and his sister, forever entwined and scarred. But behind the beauty, lurked a darkness within, For his love for her, was an obsession, a sin. He would do anything to keep her by his side, Even if it meant controlling her, with every stride. She was his possession, his prized and cherished treasure, His love, a beautiful facade, with a sinister measure. His obsession consumed him, bit by bit, His love turned darker, with each passing minute. He would lock her away, in a gilded cage, For no one else to see, no one else to engage. She was his and his alone, no one else could dare, To take her away, from his possessive stare. But she, the princess, did not see, The darkness that consumed her Protector, with glee. Blinded by his love, she saw only his light, Not realizing, it would consume her, with all its might. She lived in a fantasy, a beautiful lie, Never once questioning, the darkness that lurked by. But as time passed by, he began to see, The error of his ways, his love's true identity. The sister he worshiped, had withered away, A mere reflection, of who she once was, in her heyday. His obsession had destroyed, the very love he craved, His beautiful love, now a hollow grave. His heart shattered, into a million pieces, As he saw the wreckage, of his love's diseases. His obsession had blinded him, from seeing the truth, His love had turned dark, no longer in youth. Regret and guilt flooded his troubled mind, His love's destruction, an eternal bind. His sister, now free from her gilded cage, Had lost her beauty, her light, her rage. For his obsession, had left her scarred, A mere shadow of herself, a love forever marred. She mourned the loss of what could have been, If only, the his obsession, had not consumed him within.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐈 | 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑼𝑺𝑼𝑹𝑷𝑬𝑹 ─ ☁︎ . ♡𝆬

She danced within his twisted mind, A goddess in his eyes and heart. Her touch, her presence, so divine, He worshipped her with every part. Her beauty was unmatched, they say, But her heart was cold and ruthless. He loved her in every way, But she remained cruel and heartless. His kingdom flourished at her feet, As she basked in all his glory. But her love was a cruel deceit, A never-ending tragic story. He built her temples, golden shrines, Where he laid his offerings bare. For her, he committed crimes, As his love became his despair. She reveled in his adoration, A puppet master pulling strings. But his love was her damnation, As she fed on his suffering. The people whispered, feared and cried, For their king had turned blind and weak. But he saw her, a goddess in disguise, Even as she made him suffer and weep. His heart shattered with every sigh, But he remained devoted to her. For she was his all, his reason to die, A sacrifice he gladly offered. And as his kingdom crumbled down, In her soft embrace, he lay. For her cruel love, he'd forsake his crown, And in her arms, he'd waste away. The king worshipped his lover, As a goddess, cruel and dark. His heart forever enslaved, forever, In her mercy, he'd left his mark.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

[spider-stark]

PRECIPICE

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

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

Warnings - implied targcest as always

Word Count - 4.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

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

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

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

“Hungry?” He asks, chuckling softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Simple,” you huff, “he didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

And, in many ways, you hate it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite your tongue, holding back another laugh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That, for him, it had always been you. 

“Aegon, I-” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re… generous.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re falling.

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

[theghooligan]

aemond: my uncle is a challenge i welcome, if he dares face me—

daemon:

[zaldritzosrose]

Lose Control (Aegon x Niece!Reader)

Summary: Aegon knew it would never work. But did he care? Of course not. You were one of few members of his family who didn't look at him like he was a failure. Was it love? He didn't know. But he never felt whole without you.

(Based on Lose Control by Teddy Swims)

TW: She/Her pronouns, canon-typical incest (uncle x niece), afab reader, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, oral (f receiving), fingering, semi-public, innuendo, profanity.

Words: 2,985

kēlītsos = little cat, kitten

I apologise now, but this isn't a 'happy' ending.

Something's got a hold of me lately. No, I don't know myself anymore.

You were off limits, Aegon knew that. The fact had been drilled into him by his mother time after time. His niece, the only one who looked at him with some modicum of love or affection. He didn’t know if you felt the same, but he could pretend every time you would smile at him, or your hands would linger against his just a moment longer than needed.

But how could he not want you? You were beautiful. He didn’t care about the rumours that surrounded your parentage. Those dark curls, eyes so brown they could be mistaken for black. All the things that people used to paint you a bastard, he found to be the most beautiful things in the world.

His thoughts were consumed by you, even when you weren’t around. Everything reminded him of you.  The more he thought of you, the more he remembered he couldn’t have you and the further he sank into his cups. 

The day you left for Dragonstone with your mother had broken him beyond belief. Wine and whores barely fill the void you left behind.

Feels like the walls are all closin' in. And the devil's knockin' at my door, whoa… Out of my mind, how many times. Did I tell you I'm no good at bein' alone?

Aegon stumbled back into his chambers. The third night this week that he’d spent drowning his sorrows in some dingy tavern. Word had come that your mother was returning to King’s Landing with you and your brothers. The petitions for the seat at Driftmark were to be heard, and your brother Lucerys’ claim was being questioned.

Aegon would see you again, and it terrified him. 

He was embarrassed of the kind of man he’d become in your absence. A drunk, chasing whatever skirt he could. Fear set in, knowing you’d see him like this.

The morning of your return had come, but Aegon couldn’t bring himself to leave his bed. He was a mess in so many ways. The scent of wine still lingered on his breath and skin from the night before. Sun streamed in through his window, and he quickly sunk back under his sheets.

But his peace was short lived, the door to his chambers slamming open and the harsh words of his mother filling the room. Aegon groaned, it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time his mother would ever berate him this way. But he was in no mood for it.

The sound of her admonishments faded to muffled noise as Aegon tried to rub the sleep from his features. But his actions seemed to only antagonise her more. Heavy limbs rolled from his bed, gripping the sheet around his body as he stood.

His mother’s tirade stopped at his movement, her words faltering.

“I will not apologise, for it falls on deaf ears. Now if you don’t mind, I fear I require a bath.” 

Aegon grumbled, wanting nothing more than to escape Alicent’s harsh words.

He ignored anything else that came from her lips, walking away and towards his thankfully, already filled bath.

I lose control. When you're not next to me (when you're not here with me). I'm fallin' apart right in front of you, can't you see?

You didn’t want to be here. None of your memories of the Red Keep were particularly fond. Well, save for a few. The times spent with your uncle, Aegon, would always bring a smile to your face when you thought of them. When he would sneak to your chambers, cakes in hand, demanding you come to the gardens with him. Why?

Because he missed you.

Back then, you thought little of it, simply thinking your uncle was being kind, as an uncle should be. But when you think of those moments now? Heat filled your belly and a blush bloomed on your cheeks. The evenings spent curled up next to him beneath a tree in the royal gardens, lips sticky from the cakes he always brought, his arms wrapped tight around you and your head on his chest. Those moments had seemed so innocent then.

The reactions of your mother told you now, that they were not. The way your mother had demanded you stop sneaking out in the evenings with him – how spending time alone with any boy in such a way was unbecoming. 

But Aegon was the only one who didn’t tease you about your dark hair and eyes – you knew the rumours well enough. Instead, he told you how pretty you were. Comparing your eyes to embers and your hair to the finest chocolate. 

Now, you stood at Jace’s side, listening to your mother talk to some lord or another. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to sneak off to find Aegon.” Jace whispered, only earning an eye roll from you. Your brother was one of few aware of just how much time you had once spent with Aegon.

Luckily for you, he’d never told your mother. As far as Rhaenyra was concerned, the moment she’d forbade you from spending time with your uncle, you had stopped. Instead, you had simply hidden your meetings better. Swearing your brother to secrecy when he caught you one night.

You ignored Jace’s comment because no answer you gave would keep that smirk off his face. Finally, after what seemed like the longest time, your mother turned and gave you and your brothers permission to spend some time to yourselves before the petitions. You didn’t miss the sideways glance Jace gave you as you hurried away.

I lose control. When you're not next to me, mm-hm. Yeah, you're breakin' my heart, baby. You make a mess of me.

He was washed, dressed, the alcohol feeling like it was seeping out of his skin as he wandered through the corridors. He had no destination in mind, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into his bed. But he also had no desire to listen to another of his mother’s verbal lashings against him . And even more so, he was terrified of seeing you.

Would you hate him as he is now? Would you be embarrassed of him?

Aegon was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming towards him, his eyes trained solely on the stone floor before him. So, when he collided with the soft form of another person, he was knocked near off balance. As he scrambled to stay upright, he was greeted with a very familiar head of deep brown waves.

“Uncle?” 

Your voice. A voice he had imagined hearing time and time again for the past six years. But when you said his name, he finally met your gaze. The faintest of smiles finding his lips, while his eyes remained just a little glazed from the wine he’d already consumed.

You were here. You were here and you were as beautiful as ever. The deep red of your gown makes those warm curls even deeper in colour. It was only when he felt your hand on his arm that he realised he hadn’t spoken a word.

“Do I render you speechless still?” you smiled; your hand rested on his forearm.

“Always, kēlītsos.” He smiled, watching you blush at the name.

Kitten, so called for the way you always used to curl up next to him, safe under his arm. A sweet name that now had your cheeks hot. It was the way he said it, voice lower than you remembered. But you could smell the faint scent of wine on his breath, and you now realised that the stories of his love of alcohol were true.

Six years had changed you both in more ways than one.

Problematic. Problem is I want your body like a fiend, like a bad habit. Bad habits hard to break when I'm with you.

Aegon hadn’t paid attention to a single word spoken during the petitions. He could care less about who inherited Driftmark. His eyes never left you. He didn’t care who saw him staring. He didn’t care if you saw him staring. Seeing you again had awoken every feeling for you he’d once had. And then some. 

He’d ignored his mother when she demanded he leave the wine alone. He couldn’t handle court sober, never mind having to stay away from you. Now, the room swayed just a little, but the fog on his brain was a welcome distraction from you.

The petitions had gone as well as expected – if seeing Lord Vaemond beheaded was expected. The whole family was on edge, but Aegon was comfortably in a wine induced calm.

So, when you walked in, arms linked with Jace, he had little control of the expression on his face. Disgust at the sight of you so close to your brother, a closeness that had once been reserved for only him. He filled his cup again, no amount of wine in the world would likely make him feel better now.

You sat in the only available seat, between Jace and Aegon. You tried to catch your uncle’s gaze, but he seemed to be looking anywhere but at you and it made you feel ever so slightly hurt. Had you done something to upset him?

Problematic. Problem is when I'm with you, I'm an addict.

The supper ended swiftly the moment your brother hit Aemond, provoked of course. The two princes had never been close. You stood with your mother; fists clenched as you watched Aegon pin Luke to the table. There was no love lost between the uncles and nephews, but seeing Aegon treat Luke that way infuriated you.

You stormed from the hall, ignoring the shout of your mother. It was only then that Aegon released Luke, shoving the boy away and drunkenly hurrying after you.

He’d fucked up and he knew it. 

He could hear the clack of your boots on the stones, and he knew where you’d be going. The gardens. Your haven, one you once shared with him.

“I don’t appreciate being followed, uncle.” you called out, stopping just short of the entrance to the garden. 

Aegon was quick to stop behind you, the wine making him unsteady. But he wasn’t going to miss this chance to have you alone.

“You are drunk, Aegon.” 

The accusation, while true, hurt coming from you. Embarrassment flooded him as he tried to find an excuse. But the words went silent on his tongue. He was drunk, yes, but not as drunk as you seemed to think he was.

“It is a common occurrence for you now, I hear. Wine and whores?” Your voice wasn’t as angry as he expected, but having you know such things about him made him sick.

“Nothing more than distractions for a life that is quite tedious.” Aegon replied, doing his best to hold your gaze, blue meeting brown for the first time truly in six years.

“And what makes your life so tedious, I am sure there are many who would revel in the life of a prince.” You answered, turning to continue your walk to the garden, knowing he would follow.

And follow he did, wanting nothing more now than to be in your presence. A presence he’d missed. A presence he’d craved for six years. Even if you seemed frustrated.

“You know exactly what…” he snapped back, the wine loosening his tongue just a little. There was a chance this would be the last time he’d see you, knowing the state of the family, and he wasn’t going to waste a moment.

“Six years without you, kēlītsos, has been a very long time.” 

You stiffened at that. Was he blaming his problems on you? You stopped dead, turning on your heel to face him, watching as he stumbled when he stopped short of colliding with you.

“And you think it has been easy on me?” Your words came out quieter than you thought, your anger failing as you saw the sadness in his eyes, eyes that had once seemed so bright now seemed sallow and hollow.

“I did not want to leave. My home is here, with you.”

Aegon froze, chewing on the skin of his lip. Any anger he’d felt slipped away almost instantly. You hadn’t wanted to go. Those words sparked the smallest ember of hope in him. Maybe, just maybe, you felt as he did.

“I have spent every moment of those six years missing you.”

He heard nothing else, the wine in his belly fuelling his emotions beyond his control. His rough hands finding your cheeks, pulling you to him as he kissed you. The kiss was messy but reciprocated. Mere seconds passed before you curled a hand into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him tight against you. A kiss filled with years of love, passion… and lust. Aegon’s hands moved from your cheeks to your waist, pressing his body against yours as he backed you towards a nearby wall. Thankfully the gardens were quiet in the evenings.

You only pulled away to catch your breath, remembering quickly that Aegon had been drinking. As had you, but Aegon had consumed far more than you had.

“You are drunk, Aegon…” 

“Not so much that I am unable to think clearly.” He replied, wanting nothing more than to kiss you again.

His hands played with the fabric of your gown, keeping your body pinned between his and the wall. He couldn’t let you go, not now. Not without knowing if you felt as he had all this time.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I will go.” He whispered, his forehead now resting against yours.

You wanted to tell him you didn’t because it would be easier down the line. Easier to lie and break his heart now than be truthful and have to leave him again. But you did. By the gods, you did. While you’d loved him for longer than you could remember, love was not on your mind at this moment.

“I want this…I want you. I always have.” Your breath fanned across his lips as you spoke, body inching closer on instinct. 

Aegon closed the distance, his kiss gentle though his hands now gripped your waist hard. The red fabric now fisted tight in his hands as he slipped his thigh between your own. Your body responded naturally, heat flooding you as his lips slid down to your jaw then your neck. He knew he couldn’t go so far as to take your virtue, but he needed something.

And I need some relief, my skin in your teeth. Can't see the forest through the trees. Got me down on my knees, darlin' please, oh…

Your breath hitched as he bunched your gown in his hands, fingers pressed against the fabric of your small clothes. A touch you’d only dreamt about. Wondering what it would feel like to have him touch you so intimately.

The reality had your mouth dry and your flesh searing. Hips canting to meet the deft movements of his fingers. His face buried in your neck as you sighed out in pleasure. You shouldn’t be doing this, and you knew it. All you could focus on was pleasure, not right and wrong. Your own hand soon found the hard length in the front of his breeches, palming him slowly.

Aegon wanted nothing more than to feel you. To commit those soft sounds to memory. To feel your skin on his.

“Aegon…” you breathed, your hands finding the mess of silver waves atop his head.

His name had never sounded so perfect, and he wanted to hear it again. His hands kept a grip on your waist as he dropped to his knees before you, ignoring the confused glance you shot down to him. You soon had your answer when his nose brushed against the fabric of your small clothes, his hand gripping your thigh as he lifted it over his shoulder.

“What are you-“ your words fell silent as he mouthed at you through your undergarments, his name a moan falling from your lips.

Your hand found his hair again, wanting nothing more than for him to keep going. And when his fingers tugged the fabric aside, bearing your flesh to him, all sense was lost.

“So delicious, my sweet girl,” he cooed, licking a hot stripe between your folds.

No man had ever touched you this way, and you wanted no other man but Aegon to touch you this way again. A dream, of course, but one you wanted so desperately. And he lapped at you like a man starved, groaning against your skin at the taste of you, the sound enough to have pleasure shooting up your spine.

And soon the knot in your belly snapped, hands tightening in his hair as you panted his name. Aegon only stopped his ministrations when you pushed him away. With a final kiss to your inner thigh, he stood.

“You are mine, kēlītsos, and you always have been.”

I lose control. When you're not next to me (when you're not here with me). I'm fallin' apart right in front of you, can't you see?

Morning had come. You didn’t remember returning to Aegon’s chambers but that was where you woke. Wrapped in his arms and feeling safer than ever. It would not last. It never did. Shouts from outside the door told you that. And the door crashing open, revealing the furious face of your mother made it crystal clear to Aegon.

You were off limits. He knew that. He’d hoped it would change. But when morning came, the harsh words directed at you by your mother told you it never would. And his dreams become nightmares as you leave him again.

I lose control. When you're not next to me, mm-hm. Yeah, you're breakin' my heart, baby. You make a mess of me.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tear In My Heart

Aemond never cared for tourneys, for hunts, nor for any sort of pageantry; he supposed marriage fell in that category. To be frank, he never cared for you either, but then he heard whispers about you and his brother, and then thought, maybe he somehow did.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader x Aegon Targaryen | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has baratheon feature (dark hair), wife!reader, arranged marriage, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity, men being men, angst, violence/hunting for sport/death, typos, etc.

A/N: mind the tags! This is part of my graduation celebration 🩷🩷🩷🩷 slayed college. Let's pretend I posted this on schedule lmao. The hotd trailers really brought me to life. Part of this fic is inspired by the 2014 french beauty and the beast film.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa @lxdyred

Brother.

What was he?

The word was a stone, heavy but worthless. Nothing ever came from a brother besides bluntness, brashness, and bludgeoning burdens.

No kindness befell Aemond from his brother Aegon. Likewise, Aegon long knew to expect nothing but vexation from Aemond.

Yet even the most broken of bonds are bound back under the great unifier— Death.

Never before had the brothers worked towards a common goal so fast, so easily, and all without needing to utter a word. Together, they carry their game back to their camp, equally ignoring the burn of their arms.

Aemond loathed hunting expeditions. He loathed it then, he wholeheartedly abhorred it now. He regrets forcing himself into this godforsaken trip. He should have let you go on it alone, like always.

He regrets letting his slimy older brother getting under his skin. He regrets listening to all the rumors about Aegon and you. But in his defense—

"I MAY BE BLIND IN ONE EYE," Aemond snaps, causing you to flinch. He had never raised his voice at you like this before. He despises how shocked you look, how your bright eyes accused that he was wrong. It makes him fume, "but I see clearer than most."

Aemond is further irritated when your eyes began to water.

You, who was otherwise so well-kept and pristine, were falling apart in front of him. The wayward strands of dark hair framing your face irked him. The momentary thought of his children inheriting this trait added fuel to his anger. If, that is, whatever child you'd bear was even his to begin with.

"You are whoring yourself to my bovine brother!"

Your chest heaves heavily beneath your nightgown, "you would happily believe any slander to my name."

He scoffs when tears begin to fall from your cheeks. He paces towards the bed, unbothered if the issue is left unresolved. He'd rather sleep than watch you sob. The latter left a rather bitter taste in his mouth.

"What have I been but docile and serving?"

"Serving?" Aemond turns back, one eye narrowed, "to whom? Your greed and lust?"

"TO YOU!"

Aemond slightly pulls his head back, not expecting you to scream. He watches a spirit take over you. It was similar to that of the one that sometimes causes him to stare at you from across the room.

You suck in a breath, "do you not complain about Aegon day in and day out?" You blink rapidly and point harshly, "do you not wish him away and want him out of your hair, husband?"

"Don't you twist the truth for your-"

"I played his keeper so that you wouldn't have to," you motion, "I kept him in check so that you could do your errands, help your grandfather, go on your dragon rides, and yet you say you see clearer than most?"

"I saw you," he hisses, grabbing your shoulders.

You gasp and go rigid.

"I saw you embrace him in the cloak of night, in the corner of the gardens, where you thought no one could see."

You catch betrayal in his words, but it only causes you to chuckle dryly, "had you not lurked in the darkness, you'd have known he vomited on my shoulder and nearly passed out. Perhaps you would have felt compelled to help me drag him to his chambers."

Aemond clenches his jaw. He does not believe you.

You swat his hands away. You shake your head, "you're just a man. You're bored of what you have and want what you cannot."

"Ha. You are delusional if you think I want you."

You cannot help the sound that leaves your lips. You cannot help how you slap a hand to your mouth.

In that split second, Aemond spots the hurt on your face before you walk past him to your side of the bed.

You pull the covers down, "worry not. I've long accepted you will never want me."

"Oh," he growls, grabbing your arm before you can sit down, "and is that why you turn to my brother? Or why you leap at every chance to leave?'"

You wince as you turn to him.

"Now that I think about it, why is it you're invited to hunting expeditions so often?" Aemond demands under an angered breath, "d'you seek refuge in the-"

"I RUN INTO THE FOREST!" you hiss, shoving him away. His grip left a sting on your flesh and you rub it as you continue to burstp, "I run into the forest and let my instincts take over! I let myself shift into a beast and I run wild like a deer, begging to be shot down."

Aemond expression sours at your reaction.

"I live my curse as a Baratheon woman and morph into a doe, bullied by stags and dragons alike," you shudder, tears running down your face.

"Don't you play the victim here," he rebuts, "your family offered you to mine for power."

"Then why is it that I am so powerless, husband?"

Aemond doesn't bother watching you walk away, slamming the door shut on your way out.

Aggravation spills from his mouth through screams when silence drowns him. There is an ache in his chest that intensifies. It doesn't take long for him to question why he felt so hurt when what he was is angry, angry at you.

He then finds himself imagining you throwing yourself at Aegon, weeping on his lap. He imagines Aegon brushing your dark tresses back and drying your tears. It infuriates him more.

And as he convinced himself whilst in fumes that the reason why he hated your leave was how rudely you left, parts of his nightmares where coming true.

Aegon saw you storming down the hall in nothing but a nightgown, a cloak, and tears. He was too drunk to actually ascertain if you had no shoes on, but he was partially sure that there were truly tears running down your neck.

He was shocked by how shocked you were when he grabbed you by the arms and stopped you in your tracks. He knew you to have eyes that could spot a needle in a haystack, or real jewels from fake ones ten paces away. How could you not have noticed him when he wasn't even trying to hide how he staggered down the halls on his way back to his room?

"Spooked, kitty cat?" Aegon furrows his brows.

Your skin definitely had a damp sheen to it. Your gaze upon him somehow always hurt his thorax but it was amplified now with how puffy and red your eyes were.

"Where 'r'you storming off to?" he slurs.

You push him away, but even then you managed to offer consideration, as it was clear he was one shove away from dropping. You say, "unhand me, Aegon. I have no time for you tonight."

He pouts, blinking slowly, "and here I thought we were friends now."

You laugh. Your laugh has always had the power to make his spine tingle, but it was different this time. You shake your head, "the enemy of my enemy is not my friend."

Aegon slowly releases you. He clenches his jaw and sighs, "so it's Aemond who did this."

You scoff as you break away from him, "oh, spare me."

He watches you walk away from him. He feels hurt by your coldness. How quickly Aemond reaps your warmth. He calls out, "from what?"

You stop and snap from over your shoulder, "from whatever it is you think you can do!"

He was sober now, and his throat was dry at that.

"My burden is mine. I am his wife."

"And am to be king," he whispers, taking a step forward. He watches as you heave. He's long wondered what it would feel like to hear it as you did so beneath him.

"But you are not king," you reply, stepping back to maintain the space between you, "and you have your sister wife."

"Who would deny me?" he peers his face closer to you, "even a fool would deny me nothing."

"I would," you rebut.

He freezes.

"I am prize to you," you muffle out. Your manage an even voice even as hurt baptizes your cheeks, "meat between your teeth. You and him are cut from the same cloth."

"I AM NOT MY BROTHER, " Aegon snaps.

You flinch, just as you did Aegon. You shake your head and force a smile, "of course not, your grace."

The next moment, Aegon realizes he may not have been as sober as he thought, considering how quickly you fled him and how delayed his reaction to it was.

But then again, it was probably just you and your effect on him. After all, he managed to evade the incoming attack from behind, albeit momentarily; Aemond's senses were far shaper than Aegon's.

He grabs his older brother by the collar and shoves him against the wall. "All my life, I watched you be spoon-fed your desires, yet still you covet my bride," the younger Targaryen rages.

Aegon grins in challenge. He chuckles, "as it appears, you covet your own wife from me, brother."

Without warning, the first born is hurtled to the ground. He lets out an undignified grunt after he collides with the stone. He gasps when Aemond lunges at him.

It was only at this moment, he realized his brother without his eye patch. Dare he say that the sight of the sapphire added to the madness in is functioning eye.

Aemond produces a dagger and presses it to Aegon's neck. The former seethes, "I have every right to demand satisfaction from you."

Aegon groans when the cold steel kisses his skin too tenderly.

"You wouldn't last a second against me," the prince spits with venom, "brother."

"Do it then," Aegon screws his eyes shut, "and watch your marriage crumble before your very eyes."

Aemond throws his dagger to the side and slams Aegon once, "DO NOT TRY TO TRICK ME! I saw her reel from your touch."

"Oh," he utters through pain, "just as she reels from you, I bet."

Aemond releases him with a growl and heaves while looking down at him. He paces around; Aegon props himself up on his elbows, slowly coming to a stand.

Before Aegon can goad him on any further, Aemond grabs his dagger and pushes past him.

Both of them anxiously await your return that night. Aegon falls asleep whilst waiting for word from a servant, Aemond fights sleep whilst waiting for you to return to bed.

Yes, in Aemond's defense, the rumors about you and his brother was enough reason to pick a fight. In his defense, it was his right.

And for the first time, when you received invite for that hunting expedition with your cousin, no longer did he send you off on your own. He was keen to keep you at his side at all times, especially because Aegon weaseled his way into joining.

Aemond did not know why your cousin was so against the idea of hunting a stag. He was, in fact, offended by the Baratheon's adamant decline. The lesser lord dared even imply such a beast was beyond his caliber. He wasn't surprised you sided with your him, imploring Aemond to try his hand another season. What spurred him on was how Aegon agreed with you and how you looked at him when he smiled your way.

Yet, the spite he bore for his brother was the same thing that led to cooperation with him.

That night, when you thought he was sleeping, Aemond followed you outside. When you were nowhere to be seen when he got out of your shared tent, he stormed to his brother's, sure to catch you in the act.

All he got was a startled brother, cuddling up to a pillow when he ripped his blanket off, a naked one at that.

And after a bit of arguing, Aemond saw a shadow of a deer passing outside the tent. That was how the brothers ended up in the forest. Aemond was intent to hunt that stag and Aegon was intent to watch him fail.

Again, in his defense, it was dark. In his defense, of course he wouldn't believe Aegon when he said that they were stalking a doe and not a stag.

Aemond was satisfied with his shot when he heard the beast cry out in pain. Aegon was satisfied when they found the writhing deer to be, in fact a doe.

It was common knowledge not to hunt the female of a species, yet the two debated whether or not they should let the injured animal go free or put it out of its misery. They thought they received the answer when the animal dropped in agony, but instead they received horror that would last them lifetimes upon witnessing the beast morph into a bride.

Your bare body laid before them, stomach pierced with an arrow. No traces of a doe was left, there was only pain and you. Tremors took over your body. Yolur tears flowed as steady as the blood from your gaping wound.

Aemond fell to your side, eye wide as he reached out to you. He thought a touch of your trembling flesh wake him from this nightmare, but it didn't. His mind raced, but he had a moment of clarity when he felt your blood dampen his knees.

He took off his shirt and covered you. You screamed in pain when he tried to carry you by himself, and he glared at his brother when he tried to help.

Aemond does not stop him however, thus, the brothers carried your body back to camp.

When you were laid on your shared bed, Aemond ordered Aegon to wake everyone and ready a carriage back to the city. His brother runs off to do just that.

"This will hurt," Aemond tells you, "but I must cut part of the arrow and bind your wound."

Before he can do so, you wet his face with the blood on your hand as you whine, "why do you weep for me?"

Aemond's brows furrow.

You swipe your thumb on his cheek with great difficulty. "Soon you will have the freedom you desire," you mumble, eyes slowly closing, "as will I."

The pain that courses through you when your husband breaks off part of your arrow prevents you from passing out.

As an extra precaution, Aemond taps your cheek, "keep your eyes fixed on me."

Your sad eyes open. Your tears gush down like rain.

"Is this why you're invited to hunt so often?" he cups your cheek, shaking you slightly, "does your cousin, himself, turn into a stag?"

Your reply does not come easy. You speak between your breaths, "it is a curse from my father... for hunting so many of them..."

There is commotion from outside your tent.

Aemond has the mind to grab some fabric to press on your wound. You cry out again because of this.

"Why didn't you tell me of your affliction?" he speak in panic.

Stabbing pain cuts off the laugh you meant to laugh. Your breath shortens, yet you manage a response, "would you have listened?"

He must admit, all the prayers he ever prayed were only uttered to please his mother, but as Aemond held half your body in the carriage back to King's Landing, as he watched Aegon's tears fall onto you while he held your other half, he prayed as earnestly as any pious man would. He claimed he would be better, he would even share you, if that is what it took to keep you.

And just as easily as Death unified the Targaryen brothers, she collected your soul the same night.

[madame-fear]

Y/N, at Aegon’s funeral: I need a moment with him. Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. *leaves* Y/N, leaning over Aegon’s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Aegon, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

[danytar]

“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.

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 ♡.

[gay-dorito-dust]

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

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

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

You sharply inhaled the breath within your throat, clasping your hand over your chest before addressing the very much naked male. “Aegon, is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” The prince simply shrugged, acting as though this was quite the common occurrence within the Keep when it really wasn’t. “I overheard that you were having a bad day and I merely wished to surprise you, my dearest.” He claimed, smirking when he noticed the effort you put in keeping your eyes above a certain level of his bare body.

“Though it seems to me that you’re trying to protect what semblance of honour I have left by averting your gaze from the…less descent aspects.” Aegon continued as he removed himself from your bed and walked behind you so he could press his body against your clothes back as rest his head on your shoulder, his breath skimming the lobe of your ear and neck, causing the goosebumps to arise. “You’re allowed to look you know…but you’re encouraged to touch as well if it relives you of the stress.” He whispers hotly, his hands clambering up your arms and rest on your shoulders as they began to knead the aching muscles there, causing you to groan.

“What’s your motive Aegon, your not normally this…giving.” You asked as his calloused fingers began to massage the base of your neck. You hear him huff as he moved to stand in front of you, his fingers now toying with the hairs on your neck as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m trying to show my appreciation for everything that you’ve done for me and here you are questioning my motives.” Aegon’s observant eyes gauging even the most minute expressions your body subconsciously gave in terms of enjoyment.

“I’m hurt y/n, truly you wound your prince. Though I’m not entirely against you making up for it through more…intimate means.” He purrs seductively, gently cusping your jaw in his hand, running his thumb back forth across it. To feel Aegon’s bare body pressed up against yours brought forth a feeling from the pit of your stomach; One you couldn’t quite describe as either lust nor disgust. It wasn’t in between either; His body was beautifully sculptured from porcelain and the heat coming off of him only made you yearn for sleep even more, though preferably within the residency of his arms.

As tempting as Aegon was trying to come across, you didn’t feel it within you to indulge his sexual fantasies tonight, already having exhausted yourself enough as it is and peeled yourself away from him to your side of the bed before starting to undress yourself by removing your shoes first. “As nice as that sounds my prince but I fear I maybe too tired to indulge you in those sorts of physical practices. I wish for sleep more so then anything you could offer.” You offhandedly told him, tucking yourself beneath the covers after successfully changing into your nightwear, too tired to care about the audience of one you had stare into your back.

“That tired huh?” Aegon asked, tucking himself next to you under the covers. You hummed, thankful that he has stopped his advances for the night, just this once. “Would you allow me to hold you as you drift off?” It was strange to hear him ask but you didn’t have the heart to interrogate him further and instead burrow your head into his pale chest, allowing yourself to drown in his warmth as a sigh of relief escapes your lips. Aegon chuckles, bringing his arms over you in means of pulling you closer so that you were flushed against his side, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his against it so you were face to face. “Good night, dearest. I shall be here when you awake.”

[m1ndbrand]

Aegon, staring at Y/N with heart eyes:

Aemond, gagging: I liked you better when you were a whore.

[valeskafics]

"Moonlight Girl" - Aegon Targaryen II x Niece!Reader

a/n: i'm sorry in advance lol

Summary: Try as he might, Aegon will never be able to forget his moonlight girl.

TW: canon typical incest, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, arranged marriage, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, angst, hurt no comfort, character death

Word Count: 2,035 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

He had loved you from the moment he saw you, when he watched his elder sister place a dragon egg in your cradle. At the same time he placed in your tiny hands a locket with the emblem of a dragon, the sigil of your house, smiling at you as you reached out to snatch it from him eagerly. Neither Rhaenyra nor Alicent wished to encourage Aegon’s affection for you, but he was not so easily deterred. You were a mere two years younger than him and ever his constant companion. While your younger brothers constantly sought Aegon’s approval, you never had to. He gave it to you readily. The two of you grew so close that those who lived in the Keep knew you were all but inseparable. So often did you sneak out to Godswood or into the city in the dead of night together that Aegon began calling you his moonlight girl. He would come to your usual meeting place, at the hour of the ghosts every night, the fountain where the birds would come to drink. Ever since your shared childhood, you enjoyed bringing seeds for them, feeding them alongside Aegon.

And he enjoyed watching you, how you smiled and how your aura shone in the moonlight. His sweet moonlight girl. Every memory he had with you he held near and dear to his heart, from the most trivial to the most consequential. It was all equally important and treasured by him.

When your Aunt Laena passed and your family in its entirety was reunited on Driftmark for her funeral proceedings, you begged and pleaded with your mother to offer your hand in marriage to Aegon. She resented the idea, opposed it vehemently, but she saw that look in your eyes. She did not wish to subject you to the same fate she had been. So, Rhaenyra Targaryen swallowed her pride and approached the woman who was once her dearest friend. Queen Alicent cruelly rebuffed her, declaring that arrangements had already been made for Aegon to wed Helaena in the Valyrian tradition. Rhaenyra knew this was meant to be a slight against her. Alicent had always considered the traditions of the House of the Dragon to be queer, an affront to the Seven. She was only doing this so that Aegon could not marry you.

Your mother allowed you to scream at her, your rage pouring forth from you like rain from the heavens. But she vowed then and there that she would not allow you to be humiliated by the likes of Alicent Hightower. She would find you a match more suitable. She would not let her beloved firstborn be insulted by her father’s second wife.

You ran to Aegon, telling him what all had happened. Until that night, Aegon had not understood the extent of his feelings for you. He did not realize just how deeply he loved you until he learned he would never be able to have you, that he was to be wed to his sister. Aegon took your hand, pressed a kiss to it, and vowed to you that the two of you would reunite one day. That he would be your husband and you his lady wife.  And your lips met in a tender first kiss. He gave you a lamp, bidding that you keep it lit for him. That you keep the flame burning until the day you were finally reunited, the day you would finally be together.

Surprisingly, the day of your nuptials came before those of Aegon’s to Helaena. In his wisdom, your stepfather brokered a peace treaty between House Martell and House Targaryen by way of you - Rhaenyra’s rightful heir. You were to marry Prince Qyle, thereby bringing Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms upon your ascendancy to the throne. It was a wise choice, one you had no reasonable objection to. You had long held out hope for the betrothal between Aegon and Helaena to be broken. But your hopes, your dreams… They were not to be.

He sent you a raven, the day you turned six and ten. You opened it, bright-eyed, hoping that it would bear news of his betrothal being annulled, that you would finally be able to be with him.

My sweet moonlight girl,

I must beg your forgiveness. It was folly to believe that love could ever exist between the two of us. I implore you to forget about me. To forget any words I ever spoke to you that gave you hope of a match between us being possible. You must move on from me. We are not meant to be, and we never will be.

Aegon

Jace rushed to your side as the letter fell from your hands and your body dropped to the floor, racking with sobs. Your brother knew the truth of what occurred between you and Aegon, the love that was shared. And all he could do was try to offer you the comfort of his arms, whispering that Prince Qyle was a good man, that he would make you happy. And all you could do was sob, your spirit utterly broken at Aegon’s rejection. Even so, you keep Aegon’s lamp lit, hoping beyond hope for a miracle.

The entirety of the Targaryen clan attends your wedding ceremony in Sunspear. Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena serve as part of your bridal party, painting your hands and feet with henna, preparing you for your new life as a bride. The two of you will live at the Water Gardens until such time you take the Iron Throne. You do your best to smile for your mother and Daemon’s benefit, to feign happiness at marrying a gentleman like Qyle. After all, he has been nothing short of warm and welcoming to you ever since you and Aegerax set foot in Dorne. You may not love him, but he is a good man. And you hope he will make a good husband.

Helaena gives you a soft smile as she fastens your payal around your ankle, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

You do not hate Helaena, nor do you begrudge her for marrying Aegon. You know neither of them had a choice in this. But that does not mean you do not envy her. That it does not hurt when you look at her and see her sweet face, knowing that she is the one who will be wed to the man you love, the one to bear his children and spend her life with him.

You stand outside just before you are meant to walk down the aisle, gazing up at the moon. That is when he comes to you. Aegon drops to his knees before you, taking your hands in his.

“You look so beautiful, my moonlight girl.”

You shake your head, eyes stinging as you struggle to rein in your sadness, “No. No, you cannot do this to me. Not when I am about to be married.”

“Run away with me,” Aegon pleads, clutching at the skirt of the lehenga you wear, his eyes watering, cheeks stained with the tears he has been shedding all day at the thought of losing you, “I was wrong. I love you. Gods, I have always loved you. I was a fool to allow my mother to sway me into writing that letter. She said it would be for the best. That it would allow you to move on from me.” He gives a furtive glance at the lamp in the chambers where you were just getting ready. His lamp. He smiles ruefully, “There is no moving on from each other when it comes to us.”

You look at him, choking on the words you wish to speak. You wish to take Aegerax and Sunfyre and fly far from here. But you cannot. This is your duty. You could never forsake your family. Your mother. Your responsibility to the realm. You kneel down to Aegon’s level, resting your forehead against his, your voice coming in a shaky whisper.

“I cannot. You know I cannot.”

And he does know. As you move to get up, Aegon grabs at your locket, a last minute plea for you not to leave him. But with a strength you did not know you had, you walk away from him. The locket’s chain breaks, falling from your neck into his waiting hand, neither of you knowing that Prince Qyle has witnessed this entire affair.

And Aegon is helpless to do anything but watch as the love of his life weds another.

It is said by many that from the time Aegon picked up his cup of wine at your wedding, he never put his cup down again. He drowned his sorrows in drink, in the brothels of Flea Bottom. He sought refuge in Helaena’s arms, sobbing, wishing he could love her the way he loves you. But he cannot. He vows to her that in another life, he would never have been able to resist her. But she just gives him that serene smile, running her fingers through his hair as she tries to soothe her brother’s aching heart.

But there is no reprieve for Aegon. He drinks and he drinks, his health deteriorating with every passing day. He is killing himself with this habit. Helaena pleads for him to see reason, but he cannot. His only wish is to see you one last time before his disease claims him.

So, with the last vestiges of strength that remain in his body, he flies to Dorne atop his golden mount, calling out your name as he stands at the gates of the Water Gardens, begging to see you one last time.

You move to answer his call, but are stopped by your lord husband.

Qyle scowls, shaking his head, “No! She will not see him! Guards, secure all the doors. My wife is not to leave the palace.”

You turn to your husband, shocked, “How dare you presume to command me? I am your wife, not your slave! If I wish to see my uncle, I will see him!”

“Oh, it is not your uncle you wish to see, Princess,” Qyle spits, “I know of your past with that drunken fool, and I’ll be damned if I let you make a fool of me in front of all of my kingdom.”

You hear him calling for you. Your Aegon. Your beloved calling for his moonlight girl. Tears prick at your eyes as you race through the hallways of the palace, doing your best to reach him. You can feel it in your heart and you can hear it in his voice that he grows weaker with every passing moment.

“Aegon!”

You get closer and closer to the main door, seeing him standing there, dark circles under his eyes, his hair a mess, sinking to his knees with fatigue as his hand reaches out to you. You run as fast as your feet can carry you, your heart pounding like a drum, praying that you will not be too late to see him, speak to him one last time.

Just as you are about to reach the Water Gardens gates, your hand outstretched toward Aegon, a melancholic smile on both of your faces at the thought of reuniting, the gates are closed. You sink to your knees, bawling hysterically, while Aegon? He falls to the ground, clutching at his chest. He does not know if it is the drink that has killed him or the pain in his heart. The last thing he sees is your blurred figure racing toward him.

Aegon’s last word is your name, falling from his lips in a weak whisper as his eyes close for the last time, clutching your broken locket to his chest as if holding you before he left this world.

Sunfyre lets out a mighty roar, one that many who heard would come to say sounded akin to a sob.

And the lamp you lit for your beloved Aegon, all those years ago in the hopes of him returning to you, of your love finally prevailing, flickers for the briefest of moments before finally going out.

[dragonbarbie]

𝐖𝐇𝐘'𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇?

modern!aegon ii targaryen x reader

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

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?”