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sunfyresrider · 1 month

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*ೃ༄SACRILEGE | AEGON II TARGARYEN

✧Synopsis. You’d been sent to Valea Zalanului, Transylvania to aid a church in desperate need of sisters of the faith. Since you arrived your faith has been constantly tested and the priest himself stirs nothing but unease within you.

✧Content. 18+nsfw ahead, Old English, vampire!priest, fem!reader, “blood letting”, confessional, provocative thoughts/dreams, vampire cult?, blasphemy, sacrilege,“father”, corruption kink, smut, m/f cunnilingus, pnv. WC. 6.3k

✧Translations. Wot- know, Gramercy- thanks, Hast- have, Hath- had, Thou - you, ‘I- in, Dost/Doth- do, Thy- your, Tis- it is, Merely- solely/only, Beray- reveal, Aye- always/ever, Ere- before

✧Note. anddddd we’re back. I haven’t been writing enough in the last few months so I am rusty. FYI the plot moves fast, this was originally just meant to be a short smut. Tags. @criticallybella @etherial-moon-blog @xylianasblog

Valea Zalanului,

Transylvania,

1480

You had been sent on a journey to join and aid in a new church far from home. A little village twenty some miles from the nearest city in desperate need for a priest and sisters of the faith. You hadn’t minded traveling the distance, albeit the chill from the soon to pass winter season made it all the harder. The town itself was even smaller than you assumed, a grandiose church sat in the middle of around thirty very simple dwellings. The wood, straw and stone was much different from the entirely stone city you were blessed to be born into.

Valea Zalanului had a certain charm about it that most large settlements lacked, natural beauty. God had taken extra time to craft the hills and forests surrounding it. Unfortunately, you’d be inside the church for most of your stay here. Which might not be a horrible thing considering many lives had been lost due to disease, a child who made it past three was considered a blessing. Not to mention the wars that raged on throughout the country.

Your heart ached with excitement at the idea of being a part of this place and helping the people who lived here.

You noticed that even though it was shrouded in beauty every face you passed seemed grim and the town itself was droll in comparison to ones you visited previously. In all honesty, and god forgive you for saying this, you’d find more cheerful faces during a funeral.

As you began to ascend the steps to the church you were immediately greeted by two sisters, one was much shorter than the other, her face soft and fresh, the other was tall and sharp. The elder seemed less pleased to greet you as she stood a distance, observing you carefully. The younger girl stepped forward and bowed slightly before taking your hands.

"Thou might not but be our new sister! welcome, I be sister Marishka, the one standing yonder is sister Aleera!” Her voice was sweet and her excitement was evident. “Pleased to compose thy acquaintance Mariska,” you smiled earnestly, “And sister Aleera.” Her eyes bore into you and you waited with bated breath for her judgment. None came, only a single nod and a knowing look to Mariska.

“Don’t let her fright thou, that little nod means she approves. Aleera is normally quite welcoming, it’s just these days hast been busy.” Your face betrayed you as it showed your surprise, the town seemed too empty to have a lot of traffic. “Truly?”

“Oh yes, many of the sisters that hast traveled hither were disappointing to say the least. Not to mention the sheer numbers of victims of war and famine that hast graced our steps… This winter hath been much worse than 'i the past.” You glanced around, observing your surroundings for all the people she spoke of but none were found. Perhaps that had all passed away while in their care or sent away for whatever reason.

A strange feeling began to creep up your spine. You could not place what it was or why it was but it was very much present. Your head whipped back to the door where Aleera was beckoning you inside, an arm wrapped around your own, paired with the brightest smile you’d ever seen. She had practically dragged you inside, gawking at the new ceiling fixtures. It grew ever darker the further you moved inside, save the one grandiose stained glass window depicting the crucifixion.

For how busy she claimed it to be, the church seemed rather empty. It felt chilled, more so than the outside and instead of oak the building was made of stone. Her chatterings were lost on you as you took it all in. There was something greatly lacking, overshadowed by a presence you could not name. It almost felt as if this building was a costume, built to resemble a sacred place. You nearly began to regret auctioning yourself to a newer place, perhaps adventure was not suited for you.

A light nudge to your waist drew you out of your stupor, gazing incredulously at Marishka. Her voice was still hushed as you turned to look upon, what you could only presume was the acting priest. He looked far younger than what you expected, messy platinum hair framing his baby-esque face. His smile was bright, yet his eyes were a stark contrast. They were drowned in a hue of violet, shrouded with a cloud of something you could not pinpoint.

His lips moved and you still could not hear, you were far too focused on how his attire was not in the proper size. “Mine mind seems to be elsewhere, please forgive me. What was it thou spoke?” He chuckled silently to himself, your disrespect of his status seemed to amuse him.

"Never fret, thy journey hath been long and i presumed thou had been exhausted. I’m father Aegon, the current and hopefully 'i the foreseeable future priest.” His accent was heavy and foreign, British, not something you had heard often. You bowed slightly, hand pressed against your chest as you greeted him.

"Mine name is-” Father Aegon waved his hand, “I wot thy name and all the important details. I’ve been 'i close communication with thy sect and we feel most blessed to hast thou” His smile felt unnerving, unusually sharp at the tips of his mouth. You could almost swear his teeth were whiter than most, though dental hygiene was not a common practice.

His eyes, on the other hand, were strange. You’d never seen such a color before nor been enchanted into gazing at them. It seemed you could become lost in the depths, if only for a moment. Your silence must have been off putting because Marshika seemed to grip you harder. “Alright, Methinks mine sister hath had too much excitement for today. I shall guide her to her chambers.” Father Aegon nodded, a silent understanding passed between them.

You struggled to find sleep after today's odd welcoming. After mindlessly reading through the weathered pages of a Bible you’ve owned since a child you blew out the singular candle in your room. You settled under the thin blanket and turned your back to the window.

The moon was full tonight. It bathed your whole room in its pale light, creating odd shadows from your belongings. Your eyes were trained on the window across the room. The howling sounds of wind began lulling you to sleep like a corrupted lullaby.

Everything will be okay, you told yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. God will guide me through this, you murmured as you finally drifted off into slumber…

The sudden feeling of your bed being weighed down stirred you awake, but when you tried to move your body became limp. You glanced up to see a figure on all four limbs climbing onto the bed, dazzling red eyes boring into yours as it moved above you. A beast, one that seemed to be plucked out of hell itself. Your blood ran cold, the pounding of your heart echoing in your eardrums as its clawed, beastly hands slowly descended upon you.

You could neither scream nor move, as if you had been held down by an invisible weight and gagged by an unknown object. Your eyes squeezed shut, praying, begging for some sort of escape. Dear Lord art in heaven, whatever sin I may have committed or performed against you, dear god have mercy on me.

A soft pair of lips touched your collarbone, kissing against your trembling skin gently. You felt the devil above you shift, the horrid hands changing into ones that carefully caressed you. Blasphemy, you thought bitterly. How could such a heinous creature use such loving, familiar gestures? And yet, the hands and lips brought a strange warmth that calmed the tense muscles in your body and eased the erratic beats of your heart.

Your eyes began to pry themselves open, a flash of silver hair just hovering in your field of view. The smell of wine and a strange hint of musk entice your senses, the image growing clearer by the second. It was not the nightmarish shape you had seen before. Instead, a beautiful, gorgeous being that lulled you to another world with his hands.

Priest Aegon? No, not him, it couldn’t be.

His kisses did not cease, instead trickled down to your collarbone. His fingers inching onto your breasts, massaging into the tender flesh. You were not in your right mind, thoughts beginning to form and protest kept slipping away. It felt too good to fight it. Surely, this man is god in disguise.

The father’s lips pressed into that of your breast, his tongue ghosting your nipple. Your breath hitched, the feeling alone almost is enough to send you into convulsions. However, you were abruptly pulled from the haze, a sharp sensation pricked at your breast. With sudden clarity you peered down to see the priest sinking his teeth into your breast.

You jolted awake, eyes flying open and hands grasping at the spot where he bit you. You were in your room, alone, but you still were reeling from the dream. You heard the soft chirping of chaffinches and the soft rustling of the leaves. The normally comforting sounds of day instead brought a sense of dread in the air, as if the nightmare that visited you had left an imprint on the atmosphere.

As you remove yourself from bed and began washing yourself in front of the mirror you noticed A thin sheen of sweat coated your brow, and when you shifted you felt an odd ache between your legs. Worry began to nestle within your chest, could the lord see your dreams? Will he know about the vile, carnal, utterly strange thoughts that came to you?

You had neither had intentions to act on anything nor the carnal desire others held. You would repent for this, pray for forgiveness and to banish the image from your mind entirely. Out of thought, out of mind, you repeat to yourself in your mind as you readied yourself.

It’s important to note each house of God has different rules, in this one they are extremely picky about who they allow to work inside. Though it was increasingly clear it desperately needed some changes. To start, proper sleeping areas and a better way to heat the stone building. Perhaps more windows as well, it was extremely dark inside, midday felt more like midnight.

Everyone had made themselves scarce after breakfast, a small meal of bread and cheese that the farmers were kind enough to provide the church. It was a Sunday which meant communion would be held later in the evening. You attempted to make yourself busy in the meanwhile traveling around the town to feel out the people, culture and whatnot. It’s very important to know whom you would be spreading the word of the lord to.

The hallways within the cathedral were dimly lit, torches lined the walls instead of the usual decorative windows. There were few people around during the day and you encountered none of them. It seemed eerily empty, lacking something you could not put a name to. The wooden floorboards creaked as you walked across them and the grandiose door made a wicked screeching noise as you pried them open.

You felt lighter as you stepped outside, you felt lighter as you stepped outside, as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders and the dust no longer filled your airways. How odd, you thought to yourself, no house of God had made you feel like that before. You shook your head, starting your venture outside the confines of your home. The sleet had turned the soil into mud and the clouds remained dreary but at least the sun was starting to peak over the distant clouds.

Without hesitation you made your way through town, taking note of the way people eyed you suspicious and the caution everyone exuded while walking around the church. A scrawny man with a scraggly beard and rotting clothes strode towards your direction, probably going to visit the single alcohol serving establishment. You decided to attempt to speak to him, “excuse me, sir?”

He seemed completely uninterested as he avoided meeting your eyes. “S-sir? Doth thou hast a instant-” The man paused in his steps, turning around to meet your face. “You’re new, aren’t thou? Shipped 'i from another country i'd wager.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glad he was willing to converse. “Only a few countries away,” you lightly jested.

He let out a sigh of disappointment, almost gazing at you with pity in your eyes. “If you’re as smart as thou sound, sister, i would turn tail and flee.” Before you could muster up the courage to ask him why, the man continued. "Aye since that priest came around everything’s been strange. Don’t say to me thou haven’t noticed aught?” You opened your mouth to return the sentiment, perhaps ask more questions, but the sound of the church bells caught you off guard, the bells signaling the start of service. The man gave you a curt nod before continuing his trek.

You nearly fell over yourself trying to walk back to your temporary home. The doors were open, though there was hardly any people inside. Just as you stepped through the threshold you heard the doors close, the heavy wood clanging together loudly and shutting you out. A sudden wave of panic hit you, instead of feeling safe locked away in the house of god, you felt panicked.

You kept your head down as you walked to the front, seating yourself farthest from the altar. You closed your eyes, readying yourself for opening prayer.

“We gramercy, our father, for that life which thou've discovered to us by jesus, thy son, by whom thou made all things, and take care of all of the world-”

The insistent pounding of your heart beat berated your eardrums, drowning out the flurry of voices around you. A part of you worried someone could read your mind, see what you saw last or heard the distrust for your church evident in your innermost thoughts. No longer did you feel pure enough to partake in any ceremony and if you could, you would flee to your chambers.

“Eternal god, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may eat 'i remembrance of the corporal agent of thy son, and witness thee, o god.”

You were drawn back to the start of the communion, realizing you must have blacked out to miss so much. It felt as if time moved differently, you could swear you had just sat down.

“Holy God, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this wine to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may posset 'i remembrance of the blood of the lord which was shed for 'em”

Father Aegon’s voices boomed and bounced against the stone walls. It resounded in your head, as if it had come from within. You watched with careful eyes as the followers of Christ walked the aisles, one by one lining up in front of him. It was your turn now to stand and retake communion, as was required of nuns who moved sects. A part of you wanted to just sit and not join the line, but the fear of being shamed was far greater than the woe.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, your muscles nearly denying your pleas to move. You felt guilt weighing down your soul, as if divine punishment was awaiting. You shuffled along, eyes casted towards the ground as you gripped your dress. The Father was looking at, you could feel his eyes as you moved forward. From the tone of his voice he appeared disinterested in every other participant. Nervously, you stepped onto the last step, his form looming over you.

Father Aegon’s eyes bore into yours as they glimmered, unnatural they were, but he would just deny the accusation. He presented the host, and carefully he placed it in your mouth. His eyes studied the way your tongue nervously peeked out of your mouth, the way your large pupils stared into his own with such innocence and devotion.

Aegon imagined you would look even better on your knees.

“The body of Christ,” he proclaimed as he studied the way your throat moved as you swallowed the host. “Amen,” you mumbled out so quietly even his advanced set of ears struggled to hear. Your eyes watched him carefully as he turned to pass the chalice of wine to you. Quite the attentive little thing you were.

A moment later, he handed you the chalice with a light smile. The golden cup was unsteady as your hands trembled for an unknown reason. A strange feeling continued to creep up your spine as you lost yourself in his gaze. Perhaps it was due to the fact you hadn’t seen a man with his appearance in your entire life. If you were allowed to think such, he could be considered devastatingly beautiful.

The liquid slipped from the chalice and into your mouth. Instead of the warmth of Christ coating your senses, you felt your throat constrict and a harsh itch causing you to choke. You nearly dropped the holy cup to the floor as you tried to force yourself to swallow, his hand caught it before it could hit the floor, eyebrows raised as he studied you closely, listening to the rapid beat of your heart.

It burned in an unfamiliar way, as if you were being poisoned, and soon the taste of the communion wine coated your mouth with its putrid flavor you weren’t used to. Panic settled in your veins as your mind raced with explanations, fear of damnation.

Aegon smiled a small, amused grin which caught you off guard. He looked deeply into your eyes, his own burning with a mix of hunger as one hand slowly rose to wipe the wine from your lip. You couldn't look away as he brought his finger to his mouth and licked the liquid away, humming lowly. “Tastes like shit, doesn’t it?”

Your breath caught in your throat as your mouth gaped in shock. This was your Lord's blood, this was a sacred ceremony. How could he say something so vulgar. Aegon cleared his throat, lazily moving his hands to make the sign of the cross. “The blood of Christ,” he spoke louder than necessary. “Amen.”

You bowed your head, fingers gripping tightly onto the hem of your dress as you scurried away. The rest of mass you sat in utter silence, your gaze casted onto the floor. What the hell was happening to you? You had accidentally disassociated throughout the rest of communion, whatever prayers and hymns were sung you did not hear. You denied Marishka’s invitation to supper, instead running straight to your room to find solace in isolation.

Sleep once again eluded you the night after communion. It did not matter how much you tossed and turned, the sheets felt suffocating and your blood burned beneath your skin. Each time you began to drift your mind wandered where it shouldn’t, thoughts you hadn’t had before crept into your subconscious. Why did you choke? You’d never done anything like that before.

It felt as if the wine itself was rejecting you, deeming you unholy and not worthy of swallowing it. That terrified you, what had you done to deserve such a punishment? Nothing, you’ve done nothing in your existence that was against neither god nor man. You sat in bed, tearing the cloth that shielded you from prying eyes. It was better, but it was not enough. You swiftly leaned over in bed, pushing the tiny window up so the cold air could enter. Finally, your lungs seemed to inhale deeper, a blanket of ice wrapping around your flesh and easing the constant heat.

Out of thought and out of mind you murmured to yourself as you laid back down, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought-

In your dreams you mindlessly roamed the halls, drawn to an unknown location. Through the darkness you eyed a crack in a doorway, golden light emitting into the hallways. You stalked closer, carefully angling yourself so you could peek inside without being caught. It took you a moment to recognize the sounds, quiet giggles, panting breaths, soft murmurs, and vulgar noises coming from a female. It made your skin crawl.

You could make out three figures on the lavish bed, which you noted was much more posh than your own. Their bodies intertwined around each other and fully nude. There was something strange about it, each of them were glistening as if their skin was damp with water. Quietly, you sunk to your knees, bending your neck so you could truly focus in. As your pupil dilated, your mouth gaped in shock, thank god no noise came out.

They were there, you mean, the sisters and a strange man were all there. Their skin covered in what you could only assume was blood due to the red tint and they were… coupling. Or were they devouring him? Quickly you rose to your feet, silently scurrying away to not draw attention. Your heart raced as you neared your chambers, reaching your hands out into the darkness grasping for salvation.

Your body collided with something hard, arms reaching around to blindly grab hold of it. The pale moonlight illuminated the silver locks adorning his head, violet eyes and white teeth glowing against the dark. Priest Aegon. You looked back down in shame, your eyes had deceived you. You were not in the halls, no. Instead, in his chamber.

“Are thou alright, sister?” He asked in a gentle voice, a hand resting on your cheek, caressing the warm skin. You aren’t sure why your body refused to move or why your hands refused to release their hold on him. It felt as if your blood had turned into lead, weighing you down. Your eyes trailed up to his face, purposefully avoiding the lack of clothing or cotton bottoms he adorned which hid nothing.

“I- Methinks I was sleepwalking.”

Aegon’s fingers pulled your chin up, the corner of his lip tugging into a grin. Your brain was a fog, a mist, unable to process what was happening. He was leaning in, and the smell of wine and musk blinded your sense. You felt his lips brush past your ear, a chill running down your spine.

“And thy subconscious brought thou to me. Could it be that you’ve been dreaming of me?” The words were whispered like a secret, a taboo, a forbidden thing. Aegon’s words enticed you, which they shouldn’t, it is immoral and sinful. Your heart raced at the thought, “yes,” you breathed out.

Your hand reached up to rest against his bare chest, feeling his heart thump in the same erratic pace. “I’ve been dreaming of thou too, little lamb.” A hand found its way to your neck, his lips grazing over yours as he spoke. “Each time, thou devote yourself to me merely and i consume thou wholly. Keeping thou inside me eternally.” Your stomach flipped, a tightness building in the pit of your abdomen. It was sinful, it was wrong, it was utterly obscene.

And yet you sunk further into him, lips parting and inviting him to ravish you. His hands slipped under your dress, cupping your bottom and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, his cock pressing against your sensitive region. Aegon climbed on top in a familiar way, his soft lips dancing with yours.

Your head felt fuzzy and light, the sensation of his touch overwhelming and euphoric. You lost control of yourself, abandoning the vows and purity you swore. You were so lost, consumed by lust and sin. He pressed his hips against yours, rubbing against you. Aegon’s lips trailed down your jaw, peppering kisses along your neck.

He moved away from you and for a moment you mourned his touch, yearning to have him close to you once more. You observed him with lidded eyes as he kneeled down between your thighs. He was beautiful, a divine image of an angel sent to heal you. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as your scent, little lamb.” The father muttered before pushing up the skirts of your dress, he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

The warmth of his breath tickling the most sacred area. His strong hands gripped your thighs, holding them down. Aegon licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves into your body. You couldn't help but completely lose yourself to him. You never imagined such pleasure could be given, and by a man of god.

The father's tongue circled your clit, sucking on it gently. Aegon pulled away and pushed a finger inside you, a quiet gasp escaped your lips, a foreign pleasure spreading through you. He began to pump his finger in and out of you, curling his fingers, stroking a bundle of nerves that sent electricity through your body.

Your head began to spin, pleasure consuming your every thought. A pressure began to build within you, an indescribable sensation that only grew. His tongue traced intricate patterns onto your core, suckling on the sensitive bundle. ”p-please father,” you begged, though you were not sure what. Aegon chuckled and the vibrations made your eyes roll in the back of your skull. Your sense of reality had all but abandoned you, your head was stuck in the cloud as if you had ascended to heaven.

You felt your body shake and the tension in your abdomen snap. It was as if your soul was torn out of you, the euphoria so intense it was almost painful. You felt dazed, lost in a trance, and unable to move. However, as you glanced up you no longer saw your angelic priest.

Instead, a demon gazed down upon you. The beautiful face now morphed into a twisted image, fangs protruding from its jaw, and eyes glowing a sinister crimson. Its mouth opened, a forked tongue slipping out and licking a path up your thigh. Your mind started to clear, terror seeping its way in your heart, and before you could scream for help it sunk its fangs deep within the flesh.

knock knock

You jolted awake, grabbing the skin around your neck and chest as your frantic breathing cut through the silence. It was only a nightmare, you muttered to yourself. You shifted in place, feeling something cool beneath your bum. Gazing down at the creased sheets, the sight of a sopping wet spot on the cloth made your stomach churn.

knock knock knock

“Sister! Tis time to wake!” The door handle wiggled, the sound of locks echoed throughout the room. “Y-yes, sister!” Hurriedly you rushed to the water basin to try and clean off the sinful stain, but as you stood your head began to pound. It was as if a needle pricked at the backs of your eyes. To add further to the misery, an instant dizziness overtook you as your legs buckled beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.

Horror flooded into your veins, was this a divine punishment for what happened in your thoughts? It was pure carnal desire, a disgusting and immoral craving. This was a divine warning, a sign that if you don't rectify your sins soon you will be punished. You scrambled to your feet, putting on the clothes necessary to venture to the altar and pray for forgiveness.

You flung open the door and hurried out, leaving a bewildered sister behind. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, passing a group of befuddled visitors in your wake. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of your actions began to crush you. As soon as you reached the altar seating in front of the statue of God himself you fell to your knees.

The sickness he has placed upon you was a warning, the dreams you were having were cursed. You felt as if eyes were always watching, a shadow lurking around every corner. The walls seemed to be closing in on you, the air thick with regret. You bowed your head, clasping your hands together in front of you.

You prayed on your knees every day for the next week. Each night you dreamt of him, he was a devil, a temptress pulling you into sin. You had to rid yourself of the thoughts. Each day, you would pray, and each night you would dream. Your own mind began eating itself alive, the constant fear and paranoia taking its toll on your body. There wasn’t a day in the past weeks where you did not feel exhausted or sickly.

It was only an amount of time before you fell from grace, perhaps died from stress. You have felt like an animal hiding in the skin of a holy nun. No matter how many times you scrubbed yourself, you still felt the filth from your nights. It was only a matter of time until they found out, until the others saw. It was past time you confessed to your crimes and beg the lord directly for forgiveness, you could let these ill feelings fester no longer.

You’d never had to take a confessional in your life except for when you first became a sister. Since then, you have remained in good standing. It was an awkward thing, especially since the only confessor was the priest. You knew you could tell him anything, he was the voice of god, yet a larger part of you was frightened too.

The idea of seeing him, knowing what you dreamt, was terrifying. But you had no choice, you needed to seek repentance, or else your mind would eat itself alive. As you walked to the confessional, a familiar feeling of eyes burning holes in the back of your skull followed. You begrudgingly pushed through, waltzing towards the steps of the lord. It was darker than usual, the storm brewing outside mimicking your internal warfare. The quiet cracks of distant lighting illuminating the statue of Christ, in a haunting way.

It lacked a confessional, though one was being built in the far side of the room, until the carpenter disappeared. Unfinished and unused it sat and a part of you envied it, for now you felt sullied. The soft pitter patter of footsteps approaching from the hall echoed throughout the chapel, growing closer. A lump formed in your throat, nerves eating you from the inside. You felt him kneel next to you, his head tilting to gaze at you. “Come to confess, little lamb?” His words came out in a purr. The script you had rehearsed vanished into the void and your mouth dried up. “How’d thou wot?”

Aegon raised a hand and tucked a stray hair under your veil. “I’ve taken notice of thy ailments as I hast taken notice of the lack of thy presence. I wot all that goes on inside these walls.”

“Then I suppose I hast no choice,” you sucked in a deep breath, chewing at your bottom lip. Aegon beckoned you to continue, his face laced with curiosity and understanding. “Forgive mine, Father for I hast sinned,” the words rushed out of your throat. “I hast been having dreams of late. The most intricate and vivid dreams I hast had ere. 'i mine sleepless nights I see things that I shouldn’t and doth things with thou that are deemed unholy. I betray mine God and worship only thou. ” You released the breath you were holding, awaiting his response.

He moved closer to you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. "Tis not wrong to worship I, his voice and his will join through me. I grant thou what he not, if only thou speak to me.” Aegon’s violet eyes gleamed, and his smile divine yet twisted. “Wouldst thou like to live eternally? Wouldst thou like to feel ecstasy?”

“What will you from me?” The words left you silently, your own voice unrecognizable to your ear. "Remove thy dress as I will guide thou thumb," His hand slipped from the veil and caressed the soft skin of your cheek, a thumb grazing your lips. His hand caressed yours, his warm touch sinking your mind further into the clouds. At first, you moved away, some semblance of sense still lingering within.

“Dost thou not desire what I giveth freely?” Aegon’s eyes were so magnetic, pulling you closer into his gravity. You could not deny him, nor did you want to. You shook your head quietly, beckoning him to continue. He guided your hands to the string lacing together your blouse, pulling them apart. One by one the threads popped, a slow and tantalizing pace. The fabric slid off your shoulders, exposing the tender skin underneath. Your heart beat flurried, some remnant of holiness trying to will you to stop. “Such beautiful skin thou hast,” Aegon murmured, his nose brushing against your neck.

A soft kiss was pressed into the side of your neck, his teeth lightly dragging along the flesh. You gasped, your eyes closing. You were lost in a fog, unable to think clearly or make rational decisions. Father Aegon guided your hands to the waist of his skirt, slowly pulling it down. Your eyes shot open, watching his cock spring free from the cloth.

The tip was a soft pink, one large vein running down the middle. You were clueless as to what to do. You felt his fingers slip under your veil, gripping onto your hair. “I will guide thy mouth,” he purred, as if he read your mind. Father Aegon stood up, “like this,” his hand guided yours, stroking him slowly.

You leaned in, pressing your lips against the tip, the skin velvety and hot. Your tongue darted out, licking his tip. You could feel him throb within your grip, his eyes glazing over with lust. Father Aegon pushed your head down, forcing the head past your lips.

His hips began to rock, pushing deeper into your mouth. It was difficult not to choke, the saliva in your mouth gathering quickly. The sounds of his pleasure were like choirs of angels to your ears, serenading you into a trance. Your jaw ached, drool dribbling down the side of your mouth and the length of him.

He pushed your head down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes welled with tears and he admired their glistening beauty. You were utterly perfect for him, he decided, a divine blessing. You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but the dull ache between your legs blinded you. A few small whimpers escaped your throat as you dropped your hand to ease the feeling between your thighs. Aegon released your head, a strand of spit connecting his cock and your lips.

Father Aegon gripped your cheek, colliding his lips with yours. He devoured you as if it was his last meal, as if your lips were the sole path to redemption. His tongue darted out, swirling around your mouth and relishing in your sweet taste. Your mind grew hazy, lack of breath making you dizzy, but you could not pull back. You had desired his touch more than you have ever before.

You whimpered into his mouth, the feeling of his body pressed against yours was indescribable. His firm hands gripped your waist, pushing you on the ground. “Thou look so ethereal underneath me,” he panted out in between breaths. “Wouldst thou like to feel me inside thee.” Aegon rubbed his cock against your heat, your juices coating him.

“P- please Father, I need thou,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his torso pulling him closer. “Needy little lamb, aren’t thou?” His cock pressed into, slowly stretching you to fit him. You let out a moan, a sound you didn’t know you could make. Your fingers found their way into his dress shirt, gripping onto him as he pushed himself inside you.

“Confess sister, how did you allow me to defile you,” he thrusted inside you, filling you completely. You could not think straight, his cock hitting the bundle of nerves that made you squirm. “Confess,” he beckoned before he began slipping himself out of you. “N-no I confess,” you whimpered. Aegon began to slam back into you, a rhythmic pace that made you see stars.

“I- I confess father, I let thou defile me, I dream of thou fingers inside m-” Aegon suckled on your ear, “more,” he growled. “I- I- I dream of your tongue bringing me p- pleasure- every night.” He thrusted into you harder, the sounds of his cock slamming inside you echoing.

He was a god, a divinity sent to bring you to madness and bliss. Aegon had bewitched you body, mind, and soul as you him. “I dreamt thou devouring me,” you screamed out, your legs shaking. Aegon grabbed your hips, digging his nails into the skin to keep you in place. “Wouldst thou like to stay with me forever?” The father’s hips snapped as he pushed deep inside, his cock pulsating. You could feel him inside your womb, his hand pressing down on your lower stomach to feel himself.

Your head spun as the coil inside you began to unwind, the intensity of ecstasy blurring your being. “Y- yes Aegon,” you whimpered out, tears welling in your eyes. His thrusts began to stutter, his pace faltering. Your cunt tightened around him,the muscles in your stomach clenched as a wave of pleasure began to overcome you. “Dost thou swear thyself to me forever,” he whimpered.

“Aegon!” you screamed out, eyes fluttering open. The coil in your stomach snapped, eyes widening moments before you saw his fangs sink into your neck…

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elegantsplendour · 10 months

Text

Love Is A Downfall

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3? | Epilogue

Summary:

One girl, two dragons.

Bound to one, attached to an another.

Love is the most powerful form of magic.

Love is the fuel that leads to destruction.

Fear leads of anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.

Pairing 💕 : Aemond Targaryen x !Redwyne reader x Aegon II Targaryen

Warnings / contains in this part: smut, fluff, 3some, some violence and gore, slight angst, green biased pov.

Word count: 5k

Ps: Would love to see your comments 💗

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @aemondx @theroyaldixon @heavenly1927

Other friends: @purple-writer8 @boundlessfantasy @qyburnsghost @lovelykhaleesiii @snh96 @amiraisgoingthruit @arcielee @chompchompluke @godrakin ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶　　　　　　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

“Tell me what you see, Aemond,” she gasped for air as another deep and hard thrust drove her closer to the brink of ecstasy, “I want to hear it.”

Aemond chuckled, squeezing her backside possessively before whispering in her ears, “I see your body, flushed and glistening with sweat," he began, his hot breath teasing her, “Your back arched, offering yourself to me.”

He left a delicious mark on the fragile skin of her neck, “I see the curve of your hips, the smoothness of your skin. Your beautiful bottom bouncing on my cock as I slam into you, claiming you as mine, again and again.”

Aemond grasped a strand of her silky hair gently as she whimpered tantalizingly, “I love you.”

Just he was about to lean down and kiss her, his brother’s voice, filled with amusement, echoed the room, “How adorable. She’s never told me that even I am her husband to be.”

Aemond growled in frustration at the interruption while the little figure under him giggled, “Shut up, Aeg. You know I love you both, just in different ways.”

Aemond turned her head roughly for a feverish kiss, “I love you,” he smirked at Aegon and bit her earlobe and teased, “My Queen.”

Aegon tensed as he closed the distance between them and tilted her bouncing chin caused by his brother’s forceful pounding, “You say you love me? My lustful betrothed?”

Aegon explored her mouth with his tongue meticulously.

He loved her too, but not the way Aemond did.

“Then take me in your mouth,” Aegon commanded, petting her hair tenderly.

Aemond glared at him ferociously at the provocative grin. He had no choice but to tolerate this.

She was too kind, too caring, too selfless, too innocent, well not exactly, to refuse either of them.

Aemond often cursed the gods for gifting Aegon such a soul.

Her mother, Erya Redwyne, childhood friend of Queen Alicent, brought her into the world the same day Aegon was born at the cost of her own life.

As the joyous cries of the two infants echoed through the Red Keep like a hopeful symphony, their fate was sealed.

Queen Alicent often jested about how Aegon used to steal her favorite toys in the nursery, causing the angelic young girl to cry.

Yet over the years, of all the responsibilities Aegon failed in, she remained the only exception.

Aemond could remember one instant after Aegon’s cruel taunts on his bastard nephews and him, his demeanor immediately changed as he welcomed her on piggyback.

Seven Years Ago

“You are so cruel! Let me down, Aegon!!” She protested yet her giggles pleaded otherwise.

“Why? I think I enjoy tormenting a young lady like you than my stoic brother,” Aegon grinned, his hands steadily on her calves while swirling her wildly.

Jace and Luke laughed while Aemond watched, a bizarre sensation burning in his stomach.

She seemed to have sensed his gaze and jumped off of Aegon without warning.

Aemond’s eyes widened as she, a head taller than him at the time, enclosed him in a tight embrace, “Your brother had been cruel to you again, hasn’t he? My sweet Aemond?” She leaned down and squeezed his cheeks, leaving the older brother whine in annoyance, “You could’ve fallen on the sharp stones and leave an ugly scar on your legs,” Aegon narrowed his eyes at the sight of his girl comforting his brother, “And your future lord husband will close his eyes while he beds you.”

She looked at Aegon unbelievably with hurt, anger and embarrassment.

“Let’s go,” she took the young prince’s small hands and left the training yard.

Aemond slightly raised his head and caught glimpse of diamond like drops forming in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.

And he knew why. The last time she cried, Aegon had called her an insolent ladybug.

Aemond, although young and small, spoke courteously, hoping to ease her sadness, “My lady, you are beautiful. Your grace far surpasses the mere allure of your physical beauty. You have a kind, and compassionate heart,” he swallowed, trying to look her in the eyes but failed as he returned his gaze on the ground, “I am thankful to have you in my life. Your future lord husband, no matter who he might be,” Aemond’s voice caught in his throat, he knew who she would eventually belong to, “Would be lucky to have you.”

But what he truly meant was, “I wish to have you as Aegon does.”

Surely, Aemond didn’t know what his wish signified. Until Driftmark. Or better. Until he found them pleasuring each other in his brother’s chamber.

But that was another story.

Aemond groaned as his felt his release approached. He bent down, squeezing her breasts, and whispered, “You ok, love? I am going to spill into you.”

Her nods were barely recognizable as Aegon buried her head mercilessly towards his hardened cock.

Aemond wanted to murder him.

If not for his gesture of tenderness.

Aegon slowed his pace and stroke her hair softly, looking at her for assurance.

She blinked at Aegon with mischief.

Of course, that, Aemond didn’t see.

After a deliciously short moment filled with moans, growls and screams of pleasure, they collapsed on the bed.

Aemond didn’t wait for an instant to envelop her in his arms before Aegon had the chance.

He pressed a kiss on her crown, murmuring sweet nothings to her ears, and caressed the deep and permanent scar on her left thigh over and over again.

Six Years Ago

“You really think that I should?” Aemond asked hesitantly.

“Of course you should!” She furrowed her brows, “A dragon is not property, not a heirloom to be passed on!”

Aemond lowered his head and smiled. Nothing could have made him stronger than to have her by his side.

Though, as the sea wind washed over their faces, she squeezed his hand anxiously, “But, I am scared if… if anything happens. You know, the dragons are-”

“Unpredictable,” Aemond nodded, “Even Targaryens may not be exceptions from their wrath.”

He reached out his hand and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ears, exposing her delicate features in all its beauty.

He had grown taller.

Almost as tall as her.

He noticed, secretly smirking in his mind.

“I’ll be there with you,” she declared.

Sensing his widened eyes and worries, she sealed his unspoken words with her finger, “And don’t you tell me what you to do! Little Aemond!”

Aemond breathed in annoyance as he rolled his eyes.

One day, he will be her equal.

He will be the fiercest warrior, a Targaryen that people sing ballads about for centuries, the best dragon rider of his generation, if not of any generation.

He will become her protector.

“Stay here!” He ordered under the dimly moonlight lit beach. It was the first time he spoke to her with such authority.

It felt good, Aemond admitted it, not the control he exercised on her, but the fact that he knew that he was protecting her from harm.

“Aem,” she reached out his arm desperately before letting go, “Be careful. I’ll come to you if anything happens.”

Aemond stood stunned momentarily. He cupped her cheeks and promised full of conviction, “I will come back just fine. More than fine. I will become the rider of the largest dragon in the world. You will be the first one I rider her with. We’ll fly across the Narrow Sea, visit Pentos, Bravoos, Lys. We will be the rulers of the sky.”

She smiled faintly and leaned into his touch, “I’ve never had more faith in anyone, at any moment, than I do to you, right now. Go, Aemond Targaryen. Claim her. I know you can.”

She watched his distancing figure with a mixture of pride and anxiety.

Aemond desired more than what he was handed to him.

He will never be satisfied.

He would not himself without his thirst for the world.

She loved him, though she didn’t fully understand what that word meant. It was different from what she felt for Aegon.

But she was sure of it, no matter what, she would follow him.

For what seemed like an eternity for her,

Aemond’s cries of raw excitement, exhilaration, and rush of adrenaline flowing his veins mixed with her cheers of pure pride and joy.

The green beast left out an equally ferocious roar, as if she shared his rider’s overwhelming emotions.

As the two rushed back into the castle, sand and joy written over their faces, they were fretted with five accusing figures, demanding for justice, she had anticipated. But she was wrong. They demanded for blood.

“It’s them!” The younger sister pointed at Aemond.

“It’s me,” Aemond held her hands confidently. He was no longer the dragonless spare, the little boy who needed her protection.

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon,” Rhaena protested.

Before the girl beside him could retort, Aemond spat back, “Your mother’s dead and Vhagar has a new rider now.”

“She was mine to claim,” the younger sister clenched her fists.

Perhaps it was the allure of his newly claimed power, or it was truly his true nature emerging, Aemond tilted his head provocatively, “Then you should’ve claimed her. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Her tangled hands stretched his arms, her eyes stared at him with disbelief, “Aem, don’t say that,” she whispered urgently.

Aemond clenched his jaw as he recognized the look on her face. It was the same one when his brother made that cruel jest.

They stared at each other for a short moment, forgetting the rival tension rising in the air.

The confused peace was brutally shattered as Rhaena’s punch landed on Aemond’s nose.

Caught off guard fleetingly, Aemond’s fury unleashed itself as another punch from Baela Targaryen on her.

With a burst of strength, he pushed the two sisters on the cold ground and tugged her into his arms, “Come at her again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”

The next blow came from Jace, jumping on him with a rain of strikes, followed by Luke and the two sisters.

Yet she didn’t hold back. Aemond had never witnessed this side of her. Being slightly older than the Targaryen-Velaryon sisters, she held a slight advantage as she grabbed Baela’s hair violently and threw her on the floor.

Rhaena soon came to help of her sister, the three of them engaged in a savage dance of violence.

There was a fire in her that was unleashed, untamed and primal.

“You cowards!” She seethed while pinning Rhaena on the ground, “A dragon is not a slave. The dragon chooses its rider and she chose Aemond! Get your empty heads over it.”

Aemond, fueled by her words, twisted Jace’s fist directed at him toward towards his own chest with a taunting smirk, making him cry out in pain before kicking him on the ground.

With a swift move, he seized Luke’s neck and a rock in his hand.

“You will die screaming just like your father did,” Aemond sneered, “Bastards.”

“My father is still alive!” The small boy gasped for air.

“He doesn’t know, does he? Lord Strong?”Aemond chuckled, glaring at Jace, then at her, like a lion conquering a new terrain, declaring its victory and superiority, not only to instill fear into its opposing beasts, but also to impress the lioness.

As Aemond embraced the rush of victory and lowered down the rock, a shining dagger rose of Jace’s hand went unnoticed.

“Aem- Watch out!” She shrieked, capturing Jace’s hand with all her strength.

Everything blurred in Aemond’s eyes as his nephew growled and cut deep her thighs, a stream of blood bursting out of her flesh.

He rushed to her side and tried to cover the blood loss, but it was no use. The wound was too deep and in a critical place. She looked up at him in confusion and fear, her teeth trembled at the shade of deep red.

“You will pay for this!” He gritted his teeth, reseizing the rock before shoved Jace viciously on the floor.

Baela and Rhaena, shocked by the unseen rage of their cousin, stepped back.

“Aemond, we’ve won! Step down now!” She cried, her face mingling with tears of fear and blood from her open wound.

His gaze softened, hand lowering down the weapon.

He wished to carry her into his arms to the maesters.

How fate had an ironic twist.

Everything went scarlet and black as the ravaging pain cut through his left eye.

Aemond curled into a ball on the floor. His shrieks of pain mingling with her screams of horror tormented him like a giant bell ringing ringing in his head.

She jumped on his nephew, “You little rat! I will kill you!”

He heard Luke’s screams of help, Jace’s and her growls as they wrestled on the ground, trashing and pummeling each other.

Seconds slipped away, Aemond could do nothing but grapple in agony.

His lost eye continued to flow streams of blood while the other was forced to watch Jacaerys’ training in swordsmanship overpowering her advantage in height, her being chocked helplessly on the cold ground.

Their gaze locked.

She looked at him with despair.

Sorry. Her eyes told him. I am sorry that I couldn’t protect you.

In that l moment, a solemn vow crystallized within him - he pledged to do whatever it took to shield them both from ever enduring such depths of despair again. He would seize the future in his hands, defying even the gods if need be, to bestow upon her nothing but hope and joy.

The next thing he remembered was Ser Harrold Westerling dragging Jace from delivering another slap on her face.

Her thigh continued to ooze a ghastly flow of unstemmed blood.

She lost her conscience as the knight pulled Aemond from the ground.

With every fiber of his being aflame, he unleashed a torrent of hysterical screams, as though his desperate calls possessed the power to wrench her from the clutches of the Stranger, to defy the realms of the departed, and reunite her with the realm of the living, with him.

Both of them were brought to the maesters. Aemond’s teeth sank into each other, his fingers digging into his flesh at the piercing pain as the maester retreated his broken eye and wove his scar.

And she was there, lying peacefully as if she had fallen into a slumber, unaware of the healer’s hands on her flesh.

“It would heal, will it not, maester?” Alicent’s trembled as she asked.

Reminded by his mother, Aegon demanded with equal urgency at the maester treating the flesh of her thighs, “It will heal. Right?”

“The lady has lost considerable amount of blood, my prince.

The older prince felt hot tears swollen with hot tears.

He gently caressed her cheeks.

She was his responsibility and he failed her.

“The flesh will heal, but the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

“The flesh will heal, but the scar is permanent, my prince.”

Aemond watched his mother striking his brother on the face, “Where were you?”

“This,” Alicent spat furiously, “Is nothing compared to the abuse your brother and betrothed suffered when you were drowning in your cups, you fool!”

Aegon bit his lips, turning his head from his mother as he forced his tears back.

Alicent was right. He had indulged himself again, yet it was because his betrothed distanced herself from him ever since that jest in the training yard. He was such a coward, Aegon cursed himself, why couldn’t he just apologize?

If he had excused himself, he wouldn’t have been drown in cups, he would’ve been by her side, she wouldn’t have laid unconscious, Aemond wouldn’t have lost his eye.

The rest of that fateful night concluded in accusations and turmoils.

The agony of the sight of her fragile form and his wound prevented from memorizing everything about that fateful night of accusations and turmoils, but there was one thing etched into his memories.

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves,” Rhaenyra pushed her children behind her, “Vile insults were levied against them. The legitimacy of my sons’ birth has been put into question. This is the highest of treason, Your Grace. Prince Aemond and Lady Redwyne must be sharped questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”

“Over an insult?” Alicent shook her head in disbelief, “My son has lost and eye!” She pointed her finger at the girl in slumber, “And she! She is Erya’s daughter!” Alicent exclaimed, “You would torture Erya’s daughter?!”

Silence was the princess’ answer. It was obvious that the queen’s attempt at recalling the memory of their deceased best friend was at no avail.

“You won’t touch her!” Aegon stood before her, his violet eyes blazing with an unprecedented fire.

“No one is to be tortured, boy,” the old king glanced at his eldest son and approached Aemond, “You tell me. Where did you hear such slanders?”

Aemond faced the broken old man he had been forced to call father and king head on. He looked at Alicent, then at Rhaenyra, Daemon,

Aegon, then, at her.

“It was Aegon,” he said.

“Me?”

“And you! Boy! Where did you hear such slanders?”

Aegon took a deep breath, averting his gaze on the floor, seeking to appear as clueless as possible, “Everybody knows, father. Just… Look at them.”

As the room fell into a haunting silence, Aemond and Aegon exchanged a look.

They hadn’t wanted to be a part of this fight, but their half-sister had forced their hand.

She had just threatened their everything, her.

Now, they would play ruthlessly together.

Present day

“Aem,” she purred, nestling in his chest.

Chuckling, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her with utmost adoration. She slowly rolled herself on top of him, her soft breast lied flat on his stomach and her ears pressed against his racing heart.

“Can I hold you?”

After gods know much time, Aegon asked with a hint of longing and jealousy.

She twinkled, sneaking a peck on Aemond’s cheek before accepting Aegon’s invitation.

Even tugged in Aegon’s embrace, she gazed back at Aemond with uncertainty.

With a mild smile and nod, she giggled and wrapped her arms around her betrothed with any reservation.

Did Aemond mind sharing her with his brother, the soon king to be?

The fuck yes.

Yet the One-Eyed Prince would do anything for the future queen of Seven Kingdoms.

The story how Rhaenyra gave up her claim on the Iron Throne was one both brothers, especially Aegon, was proud of.

It didn’t take much other than hiring a few pirates across the Narrow Sea to kidnap the Realm’s Delight and the Rogue Prince’s first born son to force her hand.

And…

A few more drops of herbs in the milk of poppy their father consumed daily, and an edict composed of, or deadly similar to, King Viserys’ handwriting.

Aemond kept watching the sight before him. Her fingers trailed on his brother’s chest. She leaned in to murmur something audible only to Aegon, who smirked and captured her lips into a passionate kiss before hovering her pliant body under him.

He diverted his gaze.

Seven Moons Ago

The first time he had seen them in such intimacy was on his seventeenth name day. The prince refused to display it, but butterflies burnt in his stomach as he replayed the anticipating whispers of her promises of an unforgettable gift. Curiosity reigned his mind as he strolled the Red Keep to the library, a sanctuary he would most likely to find her in.

Yet the spectacle before him made his world crumble down.

She looked like an exquisite doll at his brother’s mercy, his one hand exploring her forbidden forest while the other massaging her soft breast.

“Aeg, please,” she whimpered, grinding her core to the magic of his hand.

“Please what, my little betrothed,” Aegon whispered seductively while trailing a series of kisses down her neck, “For me not to stop? Squeeze your breasts harder? Or spank you over my knees for being such a lustful maiden? You’ll have to be specific.”

“All. Everything, please,” she arched her back, offering herself to him, exposing her neck while letting head fall backwards.

And that’s how she caught glimpse of Aemond.

“Aemond!”

She screamed. Her face flushed. Guilt and apology all over her features.

“It… it isn’t what it looks like.”

Aegon chortled at his brother’s murdering look, “Calm down, Aemond. It’s my duty to satisfy my betrothed’s unfulfilled desires in-“ he taunted, “Ways that violate the codes of propriety the least.”

Aemond breathed, his nostrils observably widened with fury, “Indeed, I will leave you to it,” he returned his gaze to her, his tone grave and devoid of emotions, “Enjoy yourself, my lady.”

Storming off from the library, Aemond felt disgusting liquids forming in his good eye while an excruciating ache formed in his sapphire eye where his lost eye used to be.

Urgent footsteps and her calling echoing behind him only urged him to stroll faster.

“Aemond! Please, let me explain!” She pressed her hand on his closing door desperately.

He didn’t respond. She was Aegon’s betrothed, destined to be his the moment she stepped into the world . He had only been a foolish, jealous and pathetic little boy hoping one day she could love him. However, despite every fiber of his being telling him that she had nothing to apologize for, he couldn’t help but to feel betrayed.

It was his name day, yet it felt like the most precious thing in his life had been ripped away from his heart.

“I am sorry,” her lips trembled.

“Why?” He tilted her chin, making her look him straight in the eye. He longed for her answer. He thirsted for the truth. Behind his commanding voice, Aemond Targaryen’s heart begged her to give him the very answer he craved, even if it knew it was wrong.

“I…” she opened her mouth, trying to find the right words.

“Tell me,” he stepped closer, “Is it because you know that my heart races every time I find you in proximity? That I have to force myself to divert my gaze every time Aegon has you in his arms? That every second of my life had been an excruciating torment, always desiring things and people that I can never have?”

Her eyes opened wide with shock and dilemma. She reached her hand to touch his cheek, “Some of it, perhaps,” she answered, her voice barely than s whisper, “But above all, because, because…”

He was convinced she bit her tongue out of nervousness.

“Because what?” Aemond demanded, his grip on her shoulders almost inciting pain.

“Because I love you.”

“What?” His voice almost a growl.

“I love you. I. Love. You,” she declared, tears swelling in her eyes, “I’ve always loved you.”

“And do you love him?” He shut the door abruptly, saving them both from the prying eyes, before cornering her on the wall like an wolf ready to devour a sheep.

Biting her lips, she spoke again, “I do.”

She grabbed his hand as if she was scared that he would walk away, “But you don’t understand, Aemond. He… he’s been with me since I was born. We cried together, mumbled our first words to each other. Aegon,” she hardened her resolve, “He is a part of me.”

To her surprise, Aemond pressed his forehead on hers, their lips only inches apart, “Do you love him like you love me? As much as you love me?”

A profound silence enveloped them.

“No.”

It was all it took for Aemond to crash on her lips.

Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies like like two starving migrants caught sight of honey on another.

As they gasped for breath, she slowly slipped her gown off and pressed her flesh against him, “I had a present for you, my prince. But I think you would prefer this gift.”

The prince’s movement froze at her offer.

It was too unreal. Too wrong yet too tempting.

“Has he?”

She understood the question and shook her head.

“Are you sure? Once we go down this path, there is no going back,” Aemond held the back of her neck tenderly, his one eye searching for any sign of hesitation.

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life than right now, with you.”

“I’ve never had more faith in anyone, at any moment, than I do to you, right now. Go, Aemond Targaryen. Claim her. I know you can.”

The bittersweet flashback at Driftmark, when he was still whole, was all he needed for assurance.

She wrapped her arms around Aemond’s lean yet muscular shoulders as he carried her to the bed.

“I want to see you, all of you.”

With Aemond’s hands quivered, she took the initiative and slowly removed the barrier between them.

“I love you,” she murmured as she kissed the scar that lined the prince’s sapphire eye.

Aemond smirked as he traced his kisses in an agonizing pace to the centre of her core, “Let me show you how much I love you, my queen.”

She moaned at the title that she was soon to bear, a shameful yet arousing reminder of the betrayal against her betrothed, the man with whom she came to this world together.

Aemond took time particularly at the scar on her left thigh, savouring every imperfection with his tongue.

“Aem! Watch out!”

The image of Jacaerys’ blade cutting sliced through her perfect skin still gnawed his spirit.

“I should’ve killed him for what he did to you,” Aemond kissed her flesh possessively.

A light chuckle came from her mouth, “And now, you can. Aemond Targaryen,” she stretched out her fingers and teased the prince’s rarely messy hair, “But he is not worth our time.”

Her words were cut off by a loud moan as Aemond inserted a finger inside her while pressing his thumb on her pearl.

“Is that how he touched you?” He groaned, “Does he make you feel like this?” Aemond grinned before using one hand to to make her straddle him, the other squeezing her round bottom, eliciting another moan from her lips.

“Not like you do, Aem,” she kissed him hungrily, eagerly grinding and teasing his hardened length, “Take me now. I am ready. Just,” she swallowed, “Be gentle.“

“Hmm,” he kissed along her collarbones, “I’ve never been good at gentle, but I’ll do my best for you. Always,” he pressed another kiss on her cheek, “I’ll do anything for you.”

With that, Aemond gently lifted her hips, allowing her to adjust to his length at her own rhythm.

Taking him fully, he sensed her body wince at the discomfort, her nails plunging into the flesh of his shoulders, her head buried behind his back.

“We can stop, love,” the prince wiped away a tear from her cheek caused by the pain.

“No,” she smiled, the trace of liquid still apparent on her skin, “I want you, I am sure of it.”

The two of them moved delicately, melting the unspoken and forbidden tension built between them like snow under the sun.

The initial winces of pain transformed quickly into soft whimpers of pleasure and light giggles.

“Do I bring you pleasure, love?” His voice laced with tenderness, “For your pleasure is my utmost desire.”

She laughed softly and met his stroke eagerly, “What do you think, my sweet Aemond?”

She then started leaving kisses on the top of his head, his hair, messing his silver lock with an insatiable appetite.

“My Queen,” he groaned, “I’m close.”

With a smirk, she took control and pinned his hands above his head, “Me too, my sweet prince.”

Although Aemond One-Eye rejoiced his Queen’s vigor, the blood of the dragon runs hotter than the blood of Redwyne.

He flipped over roughly on her back and replunged himself inside her.

“Gods, Aem,” she whined, “Fuck me like the dragon you are.”

Aemond’s breath hitched, his laughter filled the room, “I will fuck you until you forget your own name, my precious,” he whispered in her ears before slamming his hips into hers with all his might.

As the sinful slapping and screams of pleasure transformed the room into a sanctuary isolated from the rest of the world, the two collapsed on one another.

“Moon tea, then?” She asked softly.

“Moon tea,” he nodded, “for now.”

They stayed entangled in each other for quite a while. Thoughts swarmed through his mind like a hive of bees.

He took her maidenhead.

He, Aemond Targaryen, took her maidenhead.

She, Aegon’s promised, loved him.

She loved them both.

How could this story conclude happily?

Aemond forced out the few dark possibilities that crossed over his mind.

At least, he couldn’t possibly do that to her.

She seemed to have sensed his worries and kissed his forehead, “I’ll find a way, I promise.”

That’s how the three ended up here.

A week after their first passionate encounter, they found themselves giving into their desires again in the secrecy of Aemond’s chamber.

This time, Aegon burst in with a smug face.

“Mind if I join you?”

Aemond’s throat burnt with rage and embarrassment, “Get out.”

The older brother shrugged and did the opposite, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ears, “We tell each other everything, Aemond. I’ve known that she loved you for quite a while now.”

Do you know that she loves me more?

He wanted to throw that question onto his brother’s face, but he didn’t, for her sake.

Seeing Aemond’s clenching fists, Aegon moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck, “I would do anything for her. I wouldn’t let her lose anything or anyone she loves, wouldn’t you, brother?”

She slowly reached Aemond’s hand hesitantly, “Are you mad at me, Aem?”

“No,” he cupped her cheeks, “Never at you, love.

Two sides fought brutally in the battlefield of Aemond Targaryen’s head.

One side lured him to rip off his brother’s head off.

The other side urged him to accept offer.

He chose the second option.

Present day

The inky night enveloped the sky at the hour of the Wolf.

The two brothers turned over and found the space between them empty.

She stood in solitude under the moon, her hair cascading down, her body enrobed by nothing but an almost transparent night gown.

A goddess.

They both thought.

“What are your thinking about, love?” Aegon left a feather light kiss on her neck.

She smiled and turned around to face them, “It’s a fortnight until the wedding and coronation.”

Aemond’s figure tensed.

“So many things are about to change. So many new responsibilities,” she sighed, drifting her gaze to the centre of King’s Landing, where undercurrents surges even in the darkest of nights.

“This,” she lowered her head, “Can’t continue. At least, not like this.”

Aemond’s heartbeat raced at her declaration.

She couldn’t abandon him.

She couldn’t.

Her chuckle slightly released his tension as she leaned into his chest.

“What she means is that we can’t lay together anymore,” Aegon clarified, a hint of amusement in his voice, “Relax yourself, brother. She’d never let you go.”

Aemond smiled faintly as he carried her back to bed. They were right. Although the moon tea had served as a temporary solution for their indiscretion, its effectiveness had been limited. Once a child was conceived under the scandalous circumstances, it would be impossible to know who the father was.

She grinned softly before drifting to sleep, “You are both going to be fathers. So get rid of your childishness, especially you, Aeg.”

As two of them fell into a delicious slumber, Aemond stared at the ceiling alone, contemplating the possibilities of the future.

It seemed like everything was falling into place.

Rhaenyra’s claim destroyed.

Aegon finally starting to take interests in his responsibilities.

Her declaring that she loved him, even more than his brother.

Them finding a way for their love to co-exist.

Despite all the signs of peace, Aemond couldn’t help but to have a lingering impression that it was the calm before the storm.

Author’s note: Team Aem or team aeg? Lemme know your thoughts.😚

Whispering, hinting: enjoy part 1 while you can ;) 🥺

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 4 months

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The Heartbreak of Christmas Eve - Modern! Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Your best friend shows up at your doorstep on Christmas Eve.

Pairing: Modern! Aegon Targaryen x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: profanity, angst, p in v, cockwarming

Word Count: 1.75k words

A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) ALL MY AEGON GIRLIES, THIS IS FOR YOU. he may be a train wreck, but we love him regardless. enjoy ;)

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

The sound of knocking at your front door was not one you’ve been expecting this evening. You had plans to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas on your own, since your family was travelling this holiday season. Who could it be?

Your questions were answered when you saw a dishevelled looking Aegon at the door, a sheepish expression on his weary face, a night bag in his hands. “I…I didn’t know where else to go…”

Looking at him from head to toe, taking in his pitiful state, you sighed, opening the door a bit wider to let your best friend in. “Come on in.”

You ventured to the kitchen to make Aegon a mug of tea after locking the door, just in case he was drunk again. Walking over to the couch where Aegon had made himself comfortable on, you handed him the mug. “Here.”

Aegon took it with a grateful, watery smile. “Thanks. You’re the best.” You tried not to let the words get to you. To him, it had always never meant nothing, a natural reflex in his charismatic nature, but to you, it always meant everything. It was a stupid thing, having a crush on your gorgeous, smoking hot best friend, who was the dictionary definition of the word ‘playboy’.

Just then, you heard a sniffle, and you realised with concern that his eyes were red. “Hey, everything okay?” You asked softly.

Aegon sniffled again, looking like a lost child as he hunched over his mug of tea. “Jenna broke up with me.”

Jenna had been Aegon’s latest in a series of girlfriends, and the longest lasting one at that. They had been dating for eight months now, and Aegon had really cared for her, much to your heartache. But you accepted it, as you always have, burying your feelings under the sand yet again.

“I’m really sorry, pal,” you moved into give Aegon a hug, which he melted into. Soon, you could hear sobs eliciting from his throat, as he lamented, “Why does everyone I love always end up leaving me? Am I that loathsome?”

No; you’re not, you wanted to tell him. You wanted him to know that for the longest time, you’ve loved him, much more than as a friend, and that you would never leave him, no matter what. But you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, knowing that he would never feel the same. And even if he did, he could never give you the stable, long term relationship that you wanted.

So you only patted his back softly, and comforted him as best as you could. “You’re not loathsome, Aegon. You’re my best friend.” And I love you. “I would always be by your side, no matter what.”

“You really mean it?” Your heart broke at Aegon’s small voice, and you pulled him into a tighter embrace. “Of course. Best friends forever, remember?”

There was a silence, and you thought Aegon hadn’t heard you, but he only let out a noisy sniffle and said lowly, “Yeah…best friends forever.”

The two of you held each other for a while, hearing the snow fall outside your window as you comforted the love of your life over his heartbreak, while your heart was breaking on the inside.

Because your apartment was small, it only had one bedroom, so Aegon had to crash with you in your bed. It was your usual arrangement, but tonight, Aegon just couldn’t sleep.

Shifting uncomfortably on the left side of the bed, Aegon turned to face you, wanting to talk to you, to do anything, but you had your back turned to him. Unbeknownst to your best friend, you were fighting your own demons, trying to console yourself for being upset over this. It was his fifth girlfriend already, and you had had to comfort him over so many things ever since you were kids, so why did this bother you so much?

Because you’re hopelessly in love with him, that’s what.

You let out a quiet huff of frustration, but the sudden weight of a warm hand across your waist made you tense up. Aegon had always been feely in his sleep, but this was not helping any of your thoughts right now.

“Aegon…?” You asked in a quiet voice, careful not to wake him if he was asleep. But then, you felt a hardness press between your asscheeks, and you stiffened. He was most definitely not asleep.

“Aegon-“ “Shh,” Aegon’s low rumble that always made your knees weak sliced through the air. You could feel his breath on your neck, as he nestled his head on your shoulder. “I just need to feel…something. Please.”

You swallowed, feeling humiliation creep up your cheeks, staining it red. “Are you serious?” Your voice was not quite your own, scratchy and fragile. You were tearing up. “Aegon, for years, I’ve stood by, being your best friend, caring for you, wanting you, loving you, never wanting for anything more because I fucking loved you, but this is how you treat me? As some rebound fuck to get over your ex?” Your voice was laced with hurt venom. “I can’t believe you.”

Aegon felt every single muscle in his body freeze as your words registered in his mind. You loved him. For so many years now.

Tears were streaming down your face by now, and you wanted to push Aegon away, but you were just so tired. So upset. You flinched when he wrapped his arm around your waist tighter. “Hey,” he said softly into your ear, making goosebumps rise up on your flesh. “Look at me.”

When you refused to turn around, Aegon sighed. He deserved as much, he supposed. “Hey, listen,” Aegon began tentatively. “I know I’m probably the world’s biggest asshole right now, and I probably will earn your eternal enmity after this, but…I love you.”

Shocked, you turned your head back slightly to face him, breath hitching as you felt his hot breath on your bare skin. “…you’re joking.”

Aegon smiled sadly, shaking his head. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. I know I’m the biggest fucking idiot ever for this, but I always buried my feelings and kept it a secret, because…” he hesitated. “Because I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “If only I knew you had always felt this way, I would’ve said something. Why do I always ruin everything?”

A heavy silence enveloped the room, and Aegon felt his heart break as he heard you sniffle. You were crying because of him. Gods, he was just the biggest douche out there, wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, stroking your hair gently, not knowing what else to do to comfort you. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Finally, you turned around, your cheeks stained with tears that were visible even in the dark. Aegon swallowed, feeling awful. He had probably just ruined your Christmas and your year. “Y/N-“

He was cut off by the press of your lips on his. Your lips were warm against him, soft and inviting and tasting of gingerbread, and Aegon, despite his initial shock, found himself returning the kiss, letting out a few grunts as his hands found your waist again. The both of you continued making out for a while, while Aegon continued wiping the tears from your eyes. He wanted you so badly. Gods, he always wanted you.

His hands slowly wandered down to your breasts, groping them, squeezing them gently, all while he continued kissing you. You moaned into his mouth as he did, making the bulge in his pants grow undeniably harder. Your hand went down to stoke his cock over his sweatpants, and he hissed into your mouth, making you smile slightly against his lips.

Gradually, your pants fell off, and Aegon’s did too, and you gasped as you felt him stretching out your pussy. You had wanted this for so long, and now you were finally experiencing it. It was still quite unbelievable.

Aegon groaned as he bottomed out in you, his grip on your waist tightening. You made to move your hips, but Aegon stilled your movements, whispering huskily into your ear. “Let’s just stay like this. I want to wake up like this, with you around me.”

A small shiver went through you at those words, and you nodded mutely, letting out a soft yawn. Aegon chuckled, brushing your hair away from your forehead and kissing you on the lips. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Aegon. And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Aegon General Taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @hc-geralt-23 @saay-karani @justrybca

let me know if you wish to be added to a general taglist for aegon related works or just my works in general in the comments below or through this form! :)

thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘

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arcielee · 1 year

Text

To Build a Home

Summary: You are a broken soul and he can recognize it. Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Word Count: 3083 Warnings: Mentions of household abuse, night terrors and coping with anxiety, but then there will be fluff, oh yes indeed. Author’s Note: Huge shout out to @sirenofavalon for this request, it is absolutely brilliant and I just adored it. Thank you! A huge thank you to @aspen-carter and @f4ll-for-you for being my beta readers, to Dais especially. You are my muse and I appreciate the ideas you poured into this story, to help me with the outline to create this piece. I cannot thank you enough for you being you. 💜💛 Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Taglist (my Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aspen-carter @aemondx @fan-goddess

Helaena had the tendency to collect things; some were intolerable, like her entomology infatuation, and others were more manageable. At school, she was a beacon of warmth and acceptance, accumulating friends from every social group and often bringing them home. Some would stay for a while and move on, still friendly with hallway run-ins, but others needed a savior, an escape.

Those were the ones who stayed, knitted at her side.

You were quiet as a result of growing up in a violent household, where the tempers were an unbridled heat that searched for any release. As a result, your steps were soft, your movements always slow; it was a skilled trepidation as you were unwilling, unwanting of any attention to be brought to you.

Helaena had always been sweet enough to sit with you during lunch. You remembered when she sat at your side and asked about the book you were reading. Usually, it was a shield, a way to hide in plain sight, but her lilac eyes were kind and you bookmarked your place to talk with her. It continued through the week, she was always entertained with your summary or reviews of whatever book you had, the different genres of fiction that captured your attention, and you thought her bugs were both peculiar and fascinating.

She invited you to spend the night and you were able to get permission, both a rarity and relief; that Friday, you waited with Helaena and her two older brothers for their mother, who she kindly asked for you to call her Alicent, to come pick you up.

The ride was wonderful, as anything that took you away from your home was; you bonded with Aemond over a shared love of literature and learned that you and Aegon were in the same grade, though your schedules were off-kiltered as a result of him failing some classes.

The Targaryen home was large and welcoming. You saw only one family photo and learned their father had died, but he was not grieved like a love lost, but it almost seemed to be an unspoken relief that washed over the household.

The evening was spent sprawled in the living room, playing video games until dinner was ready; the meal time was spent in a raucous debate over what film would be watched before bed. Though it was good natured, you felt yourself begin to wither under the raised voices when suddenly Aegon announced it would be The Never Ending Story.

“It is a classic,” he said with a finality to end the discussion.

Later that night, Alicent was on the couch with Daeron, another and even younger brother, while the rest were in a nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor. It was your first real taste of a family setting and you fell asleep with a smile and the subtle ache knowing you inevitably would have to return home.

–

Aegon was always a light sleeper; there was an inability to shut his brain off. His mind seemed to flit over anything and everything, which he did his best to explain to his father when he was alive, again to his grandfather, and was met with their adamant words that he was just not applying himself.

He felt at ease, an unfamiliar but welcomed emotion, nestled amongst his siblings and you, the newest addition, each tucked away in a bundle of blankets on the floor. Aegon began to teeter the edge of unconsciousness when he heard it.

A soft whimper, a quiet cry.

He shifted to move, careful not to disturb Aemond or Helaena with her cocoon of pillows; he crept to where you were sleeping, or trying too. He saw your brows were knitted and your lips parted with another muted cry, tears catching on your lashes. Aegon was careful with his touch, just his hand to your shoulder and even this caused your eyes to open wide with fear, grabbing his wrist.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Aegon whispered. “It’s Aegon and you’re staying at our house, remember?”

You trembled with a visceral fear and it was something he unfortunately recognized; his mind flitted to earlier with the friendly discourse of what movie to watch, then to when his father was alive or whenever their grandfather would visit. Aegon moved to lay next to you and you shifted to curl against his chest; he made soft, soothing sounds that led into a melody, a few bars sung with his low timbre. He started another without you asking and did not stop until you drifted back into a more peaceful sleep.

He hummed a bit longer, allowing his eyes to take you in with the dim lighting of the room. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, enjoyed the warmth of you pressed against his chest. He also saw the muted purple and green of your jawline, a healing bruise.

Aegon was careful to pull away and retreated back to his pillows and blankets, still humming the song.

–

The next day, you woke up to breakfast being prepared, the clatter of pots and pans, the low baritone of Aemond giving commands and Daeron’s higher pitch quipping back, and the musical laughter of Alicent over it all. You shied away to clean up in the guest bathroom, the careful application of makeup to hide what waited at home, before coming back to the hallway and bumping into Helaena.

Your new friend has the warmest smile, something that glowed from the kindness that seemed to resonate from her. “Hey, I already asked my mother and, if it is okay with your’s, you are welcome to stay with us for the weekend. We can take you to school on Monday.”

What you did not know was Aegon grabbing his sister, a hushed whisper of his concern when he relayed the nightmare you had, the injury he swore he saw. She listened, nodding her head and telling him, “I assume it was something. I’ll ask mom if she can stay with us for the rest of the weekend.”

You learned that your family does not miss you, they only mind you when you are home; it was easy enough for you to stay away and it was expressed that you were welcomed to return, weekend after weekend. During the school week, you had lunches with Helaena and sometimes her brothers would stop by, though you would see Aegon checking in more often than Aemond. On Fridays, your bag was already packed and you would wait with Helaena and her brothers for Alicent to come and take you home.

It was an unspoken gesture that the guest room became yours; Alicent showed you the cleared out drawers and closet space, her sweet smile encouraging you to leave behind a change of clothes or even your school uniform, whatever you would need to feel more at home. You struggled with the words to thank her and she gave you a hug, a way to say no words were needed.

The space intimately becomes your own and you are pleased to realize your wall is shared with Aegon and his room. The years continued, with secondary school nearing its end and with graduation looming, you and Aegon would spend more time together; he would slip into your room for a late night talk, your shared whispers of what was next to come.

You knew you slept better at the Targaryen’s than your own home, but your nightmares would still come with its sickening hold that sunk into your chest, with a fear that paralyzed you and choked your tongue. It was always the same, how you would run and run, without an end in sight, but aware that if you stopped, it would finally be able to sink its hold into you…

You woke up, in the spare bed placed in the spare bedroom that was unspokenly yours. You felt his warm touch, your mind clearing and allowing you to recognize the comfort noises from Aegon and you blushed once you understood you were in his arms, yet again. You trembled still, but it was a mixture of the lingering fear and newfound relief that the nightmare ended; you let out a shaky exhale.

His fingers curled under your chin and you tilted your head back to meet with his eyes. “Hey,” he smiled at you and you felt your blush deepen.

“H-hey,” you stammered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was awake already.”

It was something you had noticed, how restless he seemed to be in his own room. You wanted to ask what kept him awake, but instead you say. “Aegon, would you please sing my song?”

He shifted his weight, allowing you to reposition; Aegon laid on his back, his head propped on the pillow and you curled against his chest, like always.

Helaena was your dear friend, perhaps your best friend, but Aegon was something special. With your frequent stay-overs, you learned that he would always be there when you woke up, wearing his warm smile with a song perched on his tongue; his soothing voice helped ease you back into reality, a sung promise that in this moment you were safe within the walls that held you.

His songs were uniquely his own, his voice amazing, like a balm for your broken soul. It was what was needed to lull you back to sleep, without the terror when you closed your eyes, but this time, you forced yourself to remain awake. “Does your family know you sing like this?” You whispered into his chest.

You can feel him shake his head and you peered up to see the tussle of his silver locks. “This is something only for you,” and he smiled, pulling you closer to his chest.

Aegon smelled rich, but you knew it was a cologne that Alicent picked out and it mixed well with the scent of clean laundry and his own comforting scent. You wrapped your arm around his stomach, nestling into the warmth he always seemed to exude; he tensed at first, then exhaled. “I never recognize what you sing to me,” you continued and it is something of a question.

“It’s the music that plays in my head,” is his vague answer. He always shied away when you complimented his natural talent, always groaning or blushing whenever you praised his singing.

“Is the music what keeps you up?”

He hummed a noncommittal reply, so instead you shyly request him to sing you another song and, as always, he obliges you. You can feel the vibration where your head was laying on his chest, his voice able to bring you back to sleep.

You always slept soundly at his side.

–

Graduation comes and you both have enrolled into the same university, but by your own means; Aegon has his trust fund and you, proudly, have your scholarships earned. You shared your concern about finding a place to stay and he was quick to suggest that you roomed with him, since his grandfather was paying for his housing as a means for redemption.

The Targaryens were always gracious to you and seemed aware of your home life, though you never dared breath a word about it; you should have known he would offer.

You hesitated; to be his roommate would be effortless, your friendship had grown over the years and his presence allowed you to feel comfortable, made you feel safe. The two of you shared a bond, something his family was aware of but only Helaena would dare tease you; in truth, you cherished the friendship, but you found yourself wanting something more and were too afraid to ask for it.

Aegon was undeniably handsome, with his bright eyes and his smile that filled the width of his jaw, his mussed silver locks that framed his face. Though he never seemed interested in anyone, the thought lingered with you, he will inevitably get a girlfriend, and then what would you do?

You swallowed that thought and agreed to it; to celebrate, you purchased him a small, leather bound journal and left it with a note on his bed, in his new room:

A place where you can store your music and maybe find some sleep.

Together, you both create the apartment into a space that is all your own. Your schedules are listed and you both make sure to recap your days, relishing in each other’s victories. When Aegon came home with a guitar in hand, you glowed with your excitement, the idea of what he would create next.

His laughter was a sound that filled your chest. “I don’t even know how to play it yet!”

“Yes, but you are talented and brilliant,” you argued, your cheeks rosy from your smile. “So I trust you will be amazing.”

His talent seemed natural enough and the acoustic sounds complemented his voice in a way that you now craved. Your nightmares were not as frequent, but it seemed to be replaced with an anxiety that had you in a chokehold; it came with the stress of your courses and you pushed yourself to maintain the grades needed that allowed your scholarships.

Aegon always seemed aware when it began to grab ahold of you and he would be in your door frame, with his guitar in hand. You smiled and moved to your bed, allowing him your seat, and he would show you what he had been learning, his voice able to loosen anxiety’s grip.

“Aegon,” you sighed one day. “You really should play the next time they do an open mic at the coffee shop. You are so talented.”

“That is your opinion,” he grinned in return, setting the guitar to lean against your desk. “Maybe if I had a cult following, all who shared your opinion, I could make something with it.”

“A cult following would be easy enough,” and you meant your tone to be teasing. “Honestly, you can easily get any girl you want, if you actually tried.”

The silence was heavy, almost palpable between the two of you; it was something you had never experienced with him before. It was supposed to be a joke amongst friends, but you wished you could scoop up the words and swallow them.

He watched you, carefully, his beautiful eyes seemed to trace over your features, but you assumed he did not wish to meet with your stare. You were holding your breath, unsure if you needed to break the silence building or allow him to do it, and it went too long.

Aegon stood up, one hand combed through his silver waves and the other pulled the leather bound journal you gifted him, setting it on the desk. He did not say anything, but instead grabbed the guitar and retreated to his room, leaving your door open.

You looked at the journal and your eyes trailed to the now empty door frame; you waited for him to come back. He doesn’t and you push from the bed, reaching to pick it up and standing still, debating on what you should do next.

His handwriting fits him, a cursive hybrid scrawl of letters, as if he struggled to keep with the thoughts that spilled from his mind to the paper. You find every page was nearly filled, front and back, with a poetry pose that flowed; the subject, his words had a theme and the realization had you crimson.

It was you.

You fell back to sit on the edge of your bed, thinking and replaying every intimate moment shared, how it transcribed to his written words and how you had been blind to understand the meaning behind his words sung. You classified what you two shared as friendship, frightened to try for something else, especially when it had seemed unattainable before, but now…

The one consistent thing was that Aegon was your peace, he was your comfort personified with his beautiful, bright eyes and the smile that would pluck the strings of your heart with every song he had ready on his lips. You appreciated him and you were scared to ever ask for something more, to push him for something and he would pull away and be lost to you.

You now held his journal, in his own words you finally understood from his perspective, he was the one carrying feelings that were unreciprocated but he had contentment to be a friend for you and nothing more, if it allowed him to forever be a part of your life.

Your grip ached your fingers, a renewed passion that burned away the anxiety that hid in the shadows, and you stood up again, your each step determined, but still soft. His door was closed, but you see his light is on and pooled below; your nails gently tapped and you heard his muffled acknowledgement.

Aegon was laying face down on his bed, his face buried in his pillow but he twisted to face you. His eyes met with yours and he was quick to sit upright, a look of recognition to his features.

He always seemed to be so aware of you.

“Aegon,” you breathed, a smile on your lips and the realization you had no word prepared with your semi-grand entrance. Your eyes looked around his room, an organized mess to his belongings and his scent touching everything. You realized you always allowed him into your space, but never asked to venture into his own.

He pushed himself from the bed and moved towards you, watchful of your response as he drew closer.

He was always astutely aware, respectful of your boundaries that you set with your subtle mannerisms. He saw your stance, how your hands were white with the hold on his journal, how your tongue wet your lips as you struggled for the words. “I… need to get you a new journal. This one is nearly full.”

His smile is warm and kind, as always. “I always have inspiration, so I am full of ideas.”

You hummed. “Could I… I always sleep better with you at my side. Do you mind if I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Aegon looked at you and your heart melted within your chest, unable to collect itself when he closed the distance between you. His hands were careful to cup your jaw, rough from the calluses of guitar strings but still gentle, and he pressed his lips to your own.

#aegon targaryen #modern aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #modern hotd au #sweet aegon fluff #to build a home

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dedicatednotobsessed · 4 months

Text

The Mark of the Dragon [Aegon Targaryen x Reader]

Previous chapter || Series masterlist || Other HOTD stories [requests open]

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Summary: You grew up on the streets of Fleabottom for the majority of your life being orphaned at the young age of ten. Apart from your striking hair color, the only thing you inherited from your family was a birthmark on the back of your left shoulder blade. On the week of festivities to celebrate the King’s eldest, Aegon the Second, you end up encountering him. You help him forget about his duties of being Prince and Heir to the Iron Throne until one fateful night…. [AU based where Aegon was crowned heir instead of Rhaenyra].

Warnings in this chapter: Abduction; very, very brief mention of necrophilia; light groping.

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Chapter II

Your face was pale, shivers erupting on your skin as you bolted upright in bed, your breath coming in heavy pants. You ran a hand through your silver hair while a slight frown tugged at your lips. It was that same dream.

The same dream plaguing your mind for many years caused you to wake well before the birds. You breathed to calm your beating heart before shaking your head.

“It is just a dream,” You mumbled, pulling back your blanket.

You let out another shaky breath, trying to push the dream to the dark corners of your mind while you grabbed your cloak once you were ready and headed out for another day of pickpocketing. The streets seemed even more crowded than they had been all week. Today must have been the big celebration for the eldest’s name day.

Your mind kept wandering back to that night with Aegon, a temptation in human form brought to you by the Gods, it seems. You knew rejecting him was the right decision in your heart, but your mind kept telling you what if. What if you had taken up his offer to bed him? Your mind was a cruel mistress at times, plaguing you with false hope of something that will never be.

Your eyes wandered around, trying to sense the most vulnerable to steal from. Often, it was easier to take from the wealthy through the art of seduction with men, especially being very susceptible; however, it was harder being in broad daylight and with bodies all around. You narrowed your gaze on a skinnier man with scraggly dark hair, his clothing telling you he was from the lower end of Fleabottom. Certainly not the kind of man you would take from, yet he seemed simple enough to fall for your charm.

“Excuse me, sir,” You called softly, clutching your cloak tighter as you approached him.

The man turned to look at you, a snarl coming onto his features. His face was similar to a rat’s, matching with dark beady eyes- a starved rat is more what he looked like. “Piss off,” He snapped, waving his hand at you.

“Please help me.” You pressed your chest against his to corner him up against the wall, flashing a look of pity. “I’m lost and need help finding Fortune’s Smile Inn.”

The man seemed frozen in place, his eyes wandering over your body before connecting with your violet-swirled eyes. His thin hands were shaky as he placed them on your waist, his mouth agape. Your brows knit in confusion by his actions, and you tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened, his strength surprising for a man of his size.

“You look like ‘im, you know,” He whispered, his voice hoarse.

“W-what?” Your voice quivered from the fear that was coursing through your veins as the man’s demeanor changed.

His lips quirked up into a smirk, his arms going fully around you, capturing you into an iron grasp. He chuckled when you tried to leave, hitting his chest. “You will do nicely, sweetling.” He hummed, reaching up, twirling a strand of your silver-like hair.

His eyes darted around as he tried to tug you down the alleyway, only to let out a shriek when you stomped down on his foot. “You fuckin’ cunt!” You heard him yelling, but his shouts became distant as your feet carried you down the alleyway that seemed to stretch for miles.

You glanced behind you to see if the man was chasing after you before you collided with someone, your eyes meeting that of a round man’s. His breathing was heavy as you clutched tight onto his vest.

“H-help me,” You whimpered out.

The man stumbled upon his words, his eyes focused on the valley of your breasts. “Bart!”

You glanced over, hearing the familiar voice, your eyes widening in fear at the rat-looking man. “Bart! Grab her!” He shouted.

Your body shook as you looked back up at the man called Bart. He offered you a smile that showed no more than ten yellowed teeth. “I betta’ listen to the boss man. We don’t want a pretty thing like you escaping now.”

“P-please.” You felt the tears springing in your eyes while the man reached for the club hanging on his belt.

“You won’t feel a thing,” Bart assured you before he raised the club above his head.

Vynce winced a bit, trying to catch his breath when he came to a stop in front of his partner, who was holding onto your unconscious body. He pulled down the shoulder of your dress, clicking his tongue at the sight of the birthmark.

“We need to be careful with this one.”

“Got it, boss.” Bart grunted, lifting your body over his shoulder and tossing you onto the floor of the covered wagon.

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

As you came to, a small groan passed your lips, your eyes fluttering open. You looked around, taking in your surroundings. Many girls of various ages huddled together, tears glistening in their eyes.

“Where am I?” You grumbled, trying to sit up, but winced at the throbbing pain in your head.

“The poachers,” An older woman spoke up. “They’re taking us to an auction house where they will sell us to men who will do as they please before throwing us back into the streets of Fleabottom.”

“Or slit our throats and continue to fuck our corpse once we are dead like what they did to Anyette,” A younger girl piped up, causing a few of the others to wail out.

Your eyes flickered across the faces of each girl. Some were plumper, and some had as many wrinkles as their age. It was clear a few of them also had a run-in with the poachers previously. You braced yourself when the wagon suddenly stopped, a weight jumping down after a moment.

“Do not fight them,” The same elder whispered to you as the wagon curtain opened.

Your eyes connected with the rat man’s from earlier, who offered you a wide, sinister smirk. “Time to clean up, lovelies. We don’t want you lookin’ like pigs, now do we?”

The man- Vynce- began to pull each of you out individually while Bart peeled the dresses off each shaking girl’s body. The grubby man’s grip was tight around your waist, a hearty laugh passing his lips.

“Remember your manners, Bart,” Vynce said, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, come on, Vynny,” Bart whined as though he was a child who had their favorite toy taken away from them. “There ain’t nothing wrong with touching.” He licked his lips hungrily while he ripped the bodice of your dress, his eyes examining your breasts as your clothing fell to the floor.

You fought against Bart when he reached down, squeezing your left breast firmly. “Nothin’ wrong with that at all,” He whispered, beginning to lean down but letting out a howl when Vynce hit him upside the head.

“Do not spoil the wares,” Vynce warned, pushing Bart away and causing you to stumble. “Especially this one. She will go for a pretty gold piece. Now, you,” He snapped, turning his attention to you. “Finish cleaning up,” He instructed, pushing you to the wash basin.

You gripped onto the bowl, your reflection staring back at you. The violet tinges seemed dull like your fire was becoming snuffed out. Whatever predicament you find yourself in, no matter how difficult the situation might be, always remember to keep your fire blazing bright. No one has the right to put it out. Your father’s words rang out in your mind; he would always say them to you before he left you to provide for the both of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a deep breath. You tried to let your father’s words calm you even in this dark time, although it did little to help. Your hands were shaky as you picked up the dirtied cloth and dipped it into the bowl of ice-cold water. You glanced up at the pair of men- two predators watching over their prey.

“How many maidens did you count?” Vynce questioned Bart with furrowed brows.

“At least three, including ‘er,” Bart responded, nodding towards you. “Do you reckon he’s comin’?”

“He’s been comin’ for the last three moons. I am sure tonight would be no different.”

❈ ❈ ❈

You hugged your knees to your chest; the other two girls huddled together a ways away from you in an embrace. Vynce and Bart had left the three of you alone while leading the other captives onto the stage. The cheers of drunken men could be heard, muffled, from where you were sitting.

“D-do you believe they are going to set us free?” The younger girl asked through her sniffles.

“Do not be so daft, Ellya,” The older girl responded, her cheeks containing dried-up tears. “Perhaps they wanted us for themselves and their twisted desires.”

Your eyes lingered on the pair, a slight frown tugging at your lips. It seemed the younger one had not even hit her tenth name day. Both were too young to be at the mercy of the poachers. Your head snapped over when the door suddenly opened.

“We know how much you like them maidens, My Prince,” Vynce explained. “The kingsguard had been crackin’ down real hard as of late, but we were still able to get three of them for your picking.”

Your eyes connected with the familiar Prince’s violet ones, his brows furrowed while he looked over your state. Your body was shivering, and you could not tell if it was from how bare you were or the chills that Aegon had given you.

“My rose,” Aegon breathed out.

“What?” Vynce’s brows knit in confusion before he shook his head. “Three thousand gold dragons for that one or eight thousand for all three,” He explained.

Aegon snorted. “That is one steep price. Last time, it was only fifteen hundred for one.”

“As I mentioned, the maidens are harder to come by as of late,” Vynce stumbled upon his words, intimidated by the Prince.

“And this one is the prettiest we’ve seen in a long time.”

You yelped when Bart yanked you up by your hair, gasping as he roughly pushed you up against the brick wall, pinning you there with his round belly.

“Why is she three thousand?” Aegon asked with a cocked brow. “Does she have a golden cunt?”

Vynce clicked his tongue. “I am sure you know of her kind. We know you are not an imbecile, My Prince.”

“Not as much of an imbecile as you lot,” Aegon mumbled before he let out a sigh. “I only brought fifteen hundred with me because that is how much the other girls were.”

“If he does not want to pay the gold, I will just take her maidenhood here and now.” Bart laughed as he forced your legs to spread apart, one of his hands squeezing your bum. “Then I will slit her pretty little throat.”

You closed your eyes, whimpering as you felt his grimy hand sneak between your legs. “Wait!” You blew out a breath at the sound of Aegon’s voice and opened your eyes. You felt the tears stinging, but you refused to cry.

“Fifteen hundred gold dragons. It’s all I have on me, but I will give you the rest on the morrow,” Aegon said quickly offering Vynce the velvet pouch jingling with coins. “You know I am good about keeping my word.”

Vynce eyed the coin purse hungrily as he took it in his hands. He opened the purse, licking his lips at the sight of the gold. “Give ‘er to him,” He told Bart.

Bart scowled but did as he was told, roughly pushing you over to Aegon stumbling into his arms. Your gaze met his, feeling a few tears pool over your eyes. Aegon slowly took off his cloak, wrapping it around you and hugging you to his side.

“Let us get you someplace safe, my rose,” He whispered, leading you out.

❈ ❈ ❈

Tagged readers: ✨ @mrsdaemontargaryen ✨ || @aleemendoza2425-blog || @clairacassidy || @fictionalcomforts || @ladybug0095 || @namelesslosers || @neenieweenie

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prettyblondguys · 1 year

Text

String Along part 1

Aegon x plus size reader, I've been listening to String Along by Ricky Nelson on repeat lol Part 2 here

Warnings: lots of talk of sex/sexual acts, minors DNI, mentions of masturbation, mentions of ejaculation, Aegon being a flirty slut. Proofreading is for cowards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't swell at the attention, at the way Prince Aegon's lips brushed against your ear, whispering sinful little remarks to you, about your body, about what he'd like to do to you, what he thinks about late at night. It caused a fire to burn bright inside you, one you'd always have to take care of yourself, alone in your chambers, imagining him above you, cropped blond locks framing his face as he did all of the carnal things he talked about. But that's all he does, day after day. Throwing just enough pecks and winks your way to keep you interested, to keep you at his heels, making him feel important and sought after, and taking his leave from you whenever he grew bored.

So when his hand found your lower back as you stood near some ladies of the court, and he leaned towards you, you'd had enough. Turning your head away from him, his words die on his lips before they even begin, eyes widening before a smirk spreads across his handsome face. He steps closer to you and takes hold of your waist, his breath hot against your neck.

"You look good enough to eat, my darling."

He thinks this is a game, the thought angers you, Well, let's play then, shall we? You let out an uninterested hum and pull away, excusing yourself from present company and walking towards the other side of the room, the gears in your head turning as you begin to form the rules of this game. You need not look behind you, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your back. The room is filled with lords and ladies, all gathered to celebrate Princess Helaena's Name Day, colorful gowns and tunics of the most expensive materials, flowing silks and delicate laces, and hairstyles that would've made you snicker as a child, back when you'd spend your days following after Aegon, trailing behind him like a lost puppy desperate for a shred of his attention. You suppose that's why he still toyed with you this way, knowing how quickly you melted from his affections. But you were not a child anymore, you desired more than cheek kisses, and you have grown tired of empty promises of pleasure, you wanted action. No, you needed it. Your fingers could no longer suffice.

"Why do you flee from me, pet?" His words send a shiver down your spine, strong hands taking hold of your plump hips, not caring if anyone sees him acting so brazenly, "You do not grow shy at my words, do you?" By the gods.

"No, My Prince," you manage to say in a calm, unbothered voice, still refusing to look back at him, "for that is all they are - words. Hollow and empty."

You lock eyes with Aemond, standing off by himself. You raise your hand in greeting, watching as his eye flickers from you to Aegon, the corner of his mouth turning up as you brush Aegon's hands off of you and walk towards his brother.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He whisper shouts after you, growing tired of your game. Too bad, he started it.

"Prince Aemond."

"Lady Y/n," you and he weren't exactly close, but growing up around the Red Keep as the child of a councilman, you had somewhat become friends, discussing history and languages with him when you weren't chasing after his older sibling.

"My brother does not look pleased with you." And he doesn't, turning to throw glances at you as he ignores Helaena speaking enthusiastically about something.

"He will get over it." You say, causing Aemond to chuckle as you shrug.

"What has he done now? I apologize if he has said anything untoward, you know he overindulges with drink."

You smile at his concern, quickly dismissing it. "No, it's nothing. I just… I'm just…"

He watches you closely, noticing the way you keep looking towards Aegon, as if making sure he's still looking at you, and it all falls into place for him.

"Ah, I see," he says, suppressing a smile, "it is time for the pursued to do the pursuing." You nod, a blush rising to your cheeks from embarrassment, suddenly realizing how childish you were being. That is, until Aemond offers you his hand, a glint of mischief in his eye. He sees the confusion on your face and reaches for your hand, holding it gingerly in his, "I enjoy antagonizing my brother more than I detest dancing." He leads you to where others are dancing, and you take one last glance at Aegon, who's staring daggers at where your hands join, fists balled at his side. Good.

Aemond places his hand on your upper back as you awkwardly sway and turn, having to reach quite a bit because of your height difference to comfortably lay your hand on his shoulder.

"I am glad you aren't chasing after him anymore," he says, his back rigid and straight, visibly uncomfortable, "it is very unbecoming of a lady."

You snort, knowing your reasons for the sudden change were much more unbecoming. You both continue your strange dance, limbs at odd angles and feet shuffling ungracefully.

"Do you think it's working?" You ask, nonchalantly looking around, but not seeing your prince anywhere. Leaning down until his cheek rests against yours, he whispers, barely audible, "Yes."

"Hello brother," you jump at the voice suddenly beside you, dripping with poorly hidden anger, "might I steal her for a bit?" Aegon doesn't wait for an answer, grabbing your hand and drawing you away from an amused Aemond, placing his hand dangerously low on your back, pulling you flush against him.

"Are you having fun?" He purrs into your ear, guiding you across the floor in turns and twirls, surprisingly more skilled at this than his brother.

"Have I told you how delicious you look tonight? I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of you." I know.

"You might have mentioned it," you slowly reply, worried his closeness will weaken your resolve, "but then again it is hard to remember all of the things you say, there is so much." There you go. He snickers against your neck, warm breath tickling your skin as he lets his lips hover over your soft jawline. "Well, try not to forget this, hm?" His mouth beside your ear, he squeezes you closer to him, "Tonight when I retire to my chambers, I'm going to think of how you look in this moment, how that dress can barely contain your succulent breasts, how they spill over the top just begging to be worshiped. I'm going to think about how the fabric stretches over your curves, how it shows every crease and dip on your body. I'm going to think of you, of how you feel pressed against me right now, and I'm going to imagine it's you stroking my cock, laid bare beneath me, bringing me to release. And I'm going to imagine cumming all over those pretty, soft thighs of yours." Oh gods. He kisses your cheek, leaning back with faked innocence as a grin spreads across his face. "Think you can remember that?"

You've forgotten how to breathe, forgotten how to do anything but stare into his lilac eyes, shining with triumph.

Say something.

Your face flushes when you feel your arousal pooling between your legs.

Say something.

You swallow hard, eyes flickering down to his lips, pulled back in a shiteating grin. That does it.

SAY SOMETHING.

You push softly against his chest, giving yourself the much needed distance required to think, his hands falling to his sides. You meet his gaze and compose yourself, not willing to lose this game.

"Well," you say, clasping your hands together in front of you to stop them from shaking, "let me know when you grow tired of only imagining." You turn on your heel and walk towards a group of ladies, quickly falling into conversation with them, mustering every last ounce of self control to not turn around to see the look on his face, the look you know is there, one of surprise and, more importantly, lust.

Checkmate.

#aegon ii #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon smut #aegon x plus size reader #hotd #aegon x reader #aegon #tags for days #this wasn't supposed to get this spicy #plus size representation #Spotify

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ervotica · 5 months

Text

the ones we love (will destroy us)

pairing; aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

tags; twincest (lol i'm sorry yk what the targaryens are like), aegon is so sad and babygirl and an idiot, hurt/comfort

note; heavily reworked repost of an old fic that i adored writing but needed a lot of editing! (i still lowkey hate it tho)

“Why is Aegon staring at you?” Aemond asks, a cruel smirk cracking his perpetually stoic facade; the's mocking in the way his gaze falls between you and Aegon, not entirely genuine as he takes amusement in his older brother’s miserable pining. Aegon watches your discussion with Aemond, sour faced from across the dining table. You’ve taken it upon yourself to sit as far away from him as you can manage; and where you’re usually attached at the hip - though he knows you’re arguing - he can’t deny the ache in his chest from your lack of acknowledgement. You're cold, unflinching as you stare right through him as though he's irrelevant, as though he's worth nothing to you.

“Because he’s a twat,” you answer bluntly. Aemond barks out a short laugh, coarse and harsh, that penetrates the quiet chatter of the room. Heads start to turn towards your avid conversing with your younger brother.

“What are you two bickering about now?”

“If he thinks it’s funny to to speak ill of me to everyone in the seven fucking kingdoms, I don't want anything to do with him.” Your lips purse as you cross your arms; Alicent eyes you, watching the tick of your jaw and flare of your nostrils - you’re upset, even if you’re excellent at masking it.

Aemond watches on amusedly as your twin grows increasingly agitated the more you pointedly avoid his glances. Your mother frowns.

“Y/n, don’t you feel you’re perhaps being a little hard on Aegon?”

“No.”

“He's your twin brother!” she sighs, ever frustrated by your stubbornness and your twin’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings, even yours at times.

“He’s still a twat.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes.

You continue to only speak about him indirectly. When you turn to Jace, he grins.

“Jace,” you start, clasping your hands where they lay on the dining table in front of you, “If someone said that you were ‘an ugly whore with no friends’ - as he so eloquently put it - would you be upset?”

“He said that?” Jace's jaw falls slack. “Wait, no. He honestly said that about you?”

The table clatters, cutlery bouncing, and Aegon stands abruptly, face screwed up in that way it does when he’s about to cry.

“It wasn’t like that!”

“How else could you possibly have meant it?” You’re incredulous, covering your misery with spiteful words. You want to make him hurt, make him feel your pain, but run to him for comfort all at once.

“Not-”

“Gods, just be quiet,” you mutter. Your face is hot as you turn away and you feel your eyes prickling with the threat of an onslaught of tears. Aegon cringes, drawn tight and tense as though you share one body, as though he can feel the pain he’s putting you through. Your upset has always caused him real physical distress, from when you were tiny children and still to this day. Your voice lowers to a whisper. “You’re so mean.”

“Y/n-“

You’ve never seen him quite this distressed; his cheeks flush pink and ruddy and his eyes start to water and gloss over, not dissimilar to your own expression - though you’re much better at concealing your emotions. His nostrils flare the way they only do when he cries: the way they did when he sobbed in your arms for hours after your mother rejected his pleas for affection once again, the way he cried when you were ten years old and your father interrupted him every time he tried to speak. Your bottom lip trembles.

“Please,” he croaks. Your brows knit and crease your forehead as your chest tightens; you bite the inside of your cheek with such force that you draw blood.

You stand and the solid wooden dining chair thumps against the floor. Aegon mirrors your movements, rushing towards the exit in your wake.

Once you’ve left the presence of your family, the tears come hard and fast and unrelenting. They’re hot against your cheeks, damp as your hands shake to scrub them away, leaving only a tender sting and blooming heat in your touch’s wake.

“Please talk to me.” The door creaks shut and then Aegon’s voice cuts through the sounds of your sniffles; you spin on your heel and he surges towards you in a bout of energy, clasping one of your hands in both of his larger ones. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, it was mean. And you should be angry with me. I miss you and I love you and I'll never, ever speak a cruel word against you again.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask; he lurches to latch himself to your body, anxious as though you’ll push him away at any given moment. His arms are tight and unmoving around your waist.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently, “I don't know why I said it. I just wanted the others to respect me but shouldn’t have said such awful things. The only person I need is you.”

“What?”

“I don’t care about any of that now. None of it matters to me if you’re not by my side.”

His body shudders when your arms close and tighten around his body and a sob looses from his throat. Your voice is thick as you murmur in his ear.

“You hurt my feelings.”

His head falls to the dip of your shoulder and he clings to you with a strength that you’re not unfamiliar with; it cracks your heart all the same.

“Please forgive me, sweetling. Please.” The velvet of your dress darkens in splotches where his tears fall. “I love you.”

You know he really is remorseful; the guilt eats at him until he can’t feel anything else, not until you’ve reconciled. He's always been the same, ever since you were six and he hit you in the face; you didn’t speak to him for four days and he cried with such vigour that he made himself sick.

“I love you,” you can’t help but whisper back. “But if you ever do something like that again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

He laughs wetly, an odd sound that gets caught in his chest as he presses further into your embrace.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his damp face towards your own. His lips fill with air and push out into a pout.

His muscles go soft and relax the second your lips mesh with his; your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, licks into your mouth and murmurs something imperceptible. When you pull yourself away, he chases you, desperate to be close.

“Love you,” he mumbles, plying you with damp, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks and neck. They leave glistening half moons in his wake. “I‘m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, tucking your head in the hollow of his throat. “I forgive you, alright?”

A laboured breath forces its way out of his lungs when your arm wraps around his neck for a hug.

“I didn't like you sitting next to Aemond,” he sighs. You shush him, rubbing thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks in unbridled affection. “I want you to sit next to me.”

“I always sit next to you,” you murmur. “I was upset, remember?”

“I know,” he whines. “but you’re mine.”

“Don’t be a baby,” you giggle. “I spend all of my time with you.”

He squeezes you tight then and buries his face in your hair. You grunt with the force of his weight.

“I missed you.”

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months

Note

Daemon x oc, where oc is alicent's 4th child and her favorite, but the oc also inherent Otto's scheming skills and so much better than him and overly can't stand rhaenrya and knows that rhaenrya likes daemon so she goes for daemon and daemon falls harder for the oc AKKKK and rhaenrya pov where she realizes that she is losing daemon to her much younger half-sister, please 🥺🫶

Half-Blood Rivalry || D. Targaryen x oc

GIF by @mad-witch-moon DIVIDERS by @straywords

a/n: tysm for this request!!! anons please continue to send me requests pls!!! I hope you guys are happy for Catarina to play oc as Rhaella :) also please imagine that this takes place in ep 2. when rhaella is born is around the time daemon is banished for taking rhae to the brothel. rhaenyra hasn’t married laenor or has children yet.

The youngest child of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen was sweet Rhaella. When Rhaenyra first held the girl when she was only a babe, she had a strange feeling about her half-sister. As years went by and both girls no doubt got older, Rhaenyra could not seem to shake off the uneasy feelings she felt towards her youngest sister.

“Happy Name Day, sweet child” Alicent goes on her tippy toes to kiss her youngest and—anyone with eyes could see— favourite child. “Thank you, mother,” Rhaella kissed her cheek. It was then her father’s turn. Rhaella and Viserys had always had a complicated relationship, the two never seemed to see eye to eye, quite similar with her other siblings.

Rhaella and her siblings knew that their father didn’t favour them as much as he does with Rhaenyra. Nonetheless, Viserys was still her father and he cared for him.

“Happy name day, sister” Rhaenyra bursts through the doors of the throne room with a drunken smile. Everyone in the room stared at the platinum white haired Princess in shock. Her appearance was dishevelled and she reeked of alcohol. It was only morning.

“Are you quite alright Rhaenyra?” Alicent raises an eyebrow as she looks the Targaryen up and down. Rhaella lets out a scoff. Typical Rhaenyra. “Quite so, I wouldn’t dare miss seeing my dear sister on this special day” She raises a cup towards the younger who rolls her tongue against her cheek in annoyance.

Rhaella looks to Viserys, a wide grin on his face making her scoff. Rhaenyra somehow always seems to pull Rhaella’s buttons without even realising. In her opinion, she was a stuck up Princess that was never grateful of what was given to her.

Rhaella could not stand her older half-sister, maybe it was because of the fact that their father always placed Rhaenyra on a pedestal and could never do anything wrong in his eyes. Placing a fake smile on her pretty face, Rhaella speaks up. “Thank you Rhaenyra, your presence here means so much to me” She pops a grape in her mouth.

Otto lowly chuckles yet shakes his head lightly at his granddaughter’s tone. There was no denying that out of his four grandchildren, Rhaella too was his favourite. The young Targaryen was very much like him in many ways, even better in some aspects you could say.

There was silence at the table for a bit as they all ate, when all of a sudden, the doors once again opened. This time, Ser Harrold walked in. “Your Grace, he’s back” Was all the kingsguard said. Rhaella and her siblings stop chewing their food and look to their father.

Viserys wore a shocked face before standing up quickly and walking away. Rhaella looks to her mother in confusion as she gives her a sad look and rubs her arm. “Father, where are you going?” The young Targaryen turns in her seat as she watches him walk away. What even stung the young girl was the fact that he didn’t respond.

“Daemon’s back” Rhaenyra says to herself with wide eyes. “Don’t be silly, uncle Daemon has not returned to court in how many years?” Aegon questions as Rhaella replies, “Since I was a babe” She shrugs. “But who else would Ser Harrold have referred to? Did you see father’s face,” She humorously scoffs, “That was Daemon alright” Rhaenyra shrugs.

“Enough talk about your uncle. It is Rhaella’s name day and I want you all behaved for her birthday celebrations today” Alicent sternly speaks before continuing to eat. The Targaryen siblings all give each other one final look before going back to their meal.

It was the night of Rhaella's name day where a huge feast was held. Alicent demanded the celebration to be extravagant for her favourite child. You could have mistaken the event as the King's name day.

Rhaella sat beside her mother and her siblings beside her, Rhaenyra on Viserys' side. When her father stood up to announce a speech, he was interrupted by a figure walking into the throne room.

It was no one other than Daemon. Young Rhaella had not seen him all day, him showing up there was her first time seeing him really as she could not recall him when she was a born.

Of course, the Targaryen often heard stories about her uncle. He held a bad reputation and yet everytime anyone would speak of him, Rhaella always found herself wanting to hear more about her uncle.

He sauntered in with a smirk on his face. "Brother, I thought you weren't going to come" Viserys puts a smile on his face as Daemon stands in front of the table, his hands clasped together. Rhaella could have sworn she saw a glint of mischievous in his eyes.

She looks up towards her father, than to her half-sister. Rhaenyra had a look on her face that Rhaella couldn't quite fathom out. "And miss my dear nieces' birthday celebration? How could I do that to Rhaenrya" Alicent gasps in disbelief and Aemond chuckles under his breath, a kick under the table from Otto shut him up.

"I think your mistaken dear uncle, it is not Rhaenyra you should be wishing a happy birthday, but me," Rhaella irked, crossing her arms. Daemon's eyes move to her. She watched him study her before a grin makes it to his lips. "Apologies...." He trails off, "Rhaella." "My brother failed to mention which niece of mine was celebrating. After all, I have little memory of his children before I left."

Rhaella nods her head politely, he was offered a seat at the end of the table near Rhaenyra. She couldn't help but notice her half-sisters' wanting eyes to Daemon. The young Targaryen knew of what had happened when she was born. In terms of Daemon and Rhaenyra.

But she did not expect her to still long for her uncle, after all, Daemon was gone for nearly 20 years. The whole time as they all feasted, Rhaella felt eyes burning into her and everytime she looked, Daemon shamelessly stares with a smirk on his face.

"I think I would like to dance," Rhaella says before standing up and making her way to her sworn knight, Ser Harwin. "A dance Ser Harwin?" The princess looks up at him with a smile. "It is my pleasure, princess" He smiles back as they start to dance, not knowing a certain Targaryen's eyes were fixated on the two the entire time.

"Your daughter is quite pleasing to look at, Alicent" Daemon chuckles to himself, his eyes still not leaving Rhaella. Alicent nearly choked on her drink as she glares at him. "My sister is nearly half my age uncle!" Rhaenyra laughs.

"Mhm, a shame indeed" He mutters as he taps his fingers on the table. Rhaenyra stares at her uncle in disbelief. The princess opens her mouth but shuts it again when Daemon stands up and makes his way through the crowd to where Rhaella and Ser Harwin were dancing.

"Might I have this dance, princess?" Daemon whispers against her ears as she breathed heavily from dancing. Rhaella gives a small nod to Harwin as he backs off and now dances with Daemon. "You know, you've grown quite alot," He starts off. "Thank you for pointing the obvious uncle," She rolls her eyes playfully, "Into such a, beautiful woman" Daemon finishes.

Rhaella smiles, "Thank you, I assume-" She was cut off by Rhaenyra who taps her shoulder, "Can I steal our dear uncle, sister?" She questions as she doesn't even bother looking at Rhaella, only Dameon.

The young Targaryen looks between the two before nodding her head. She walks away not before locking eyes with her uncle before his gaze floats back to Rhaenyra. "Did you just get told to bugger off, sister?" Aegon laughs as Rhaella approaches the table and smacks his head. "Ow!" He groans, rubbing his head. Alicent shoots a look to the eldest.

"I believe our dear Rhaenyra is still infatuated with Daemon" Rhaella tilts her head. "Not surprised, the way she was eyeing him the whole time, I thought she'd eat uncle on the spot" Halaena says concerned as Rhaella and her brothers laughed loudly. Deep down, Rhaella couldn't push aside a strange feeling as she watched her sister and her uncle dancing and laughing together.

“Do you jest, sister?” Rhaella’s mouth hangs open at Rhaenyra’s idea that she had created in her head. “What? Daemon and I are made for each other. We have blood of the dragons coursing through us. Not to forget, he wanted me before he was banished by Father” She paces back and forth in her room.

The young Targaryen only blinked a few times before laughing. Rhaenyra glares at her younger sister. “S-sorry,” Rhaella wipes the tears that escaped from laughter, “Do you still think uncle longs for you? Forgive me for saying this Rhaenyra, but you are no longer a maiden.” Rhaella tilts her head.

“Daemon might have lusted over you at one point but yet again, he did take you to that brothel and just left you there. And now he’s back after what? twenty years and you still think he has his eyes on you?” Rhaella’s jabs stung the elder. Her words were like knives to her heart.

“And what do you suppose? That he’s got eyes for you now?” Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow at the younger. A small smirk forms on Rhaella’s lips, “Time will tell” “Don’t tell me you like Daemon, Rhaella. You just practically met him!” Rhaenyra’s voice loudens. To piss her even more, Rhaella simply shrugged with a playful smile.

“Daemon would make a dutiful Husband wouldn’t he? All that experience and….. well you know. Plus, mother has been pestering me about marriage. What better way to honour her wishes of me staying close to home then marrying our deal uncle?” Rhaenyra scoffs at her half-sister. “Daemon will never want you, you wouldn’t even dare to approach him with those silly intentions-“

Rhaella stands up and storms to her older, and still slightly taller, sister. “Watch me dear sister. Watch me marry Daemon in our old valyrian ways and bear his children. Watch me live a life you only ever got to dream of.” She calmy says yet still, venom laced her words.

Rhaenyra stood still in shock at her sister’s words before opening her mouth, “You are a horrid person.” She said through gritted teeth. Rhaella only wickedly smiles before turning around and walking off. As soon as the door slammed shut, Rhaenyra grabbed the closest object which was a vase and aimed it at the door, shards flying everywhere.

Rhaella stood outside the door with a proud smirk on her face. It was finally time to put her older sister into her own place. She walked through the hallways of her home before she bumped into something hard. “Watch where-“ Rhaella shuts her mouth as she’s met with his figure. “you’re going..” She trails as he smiles at her.

“Rhaenyra is still in her bedchambers” She mumbles massaging her head. Before she could move to the side to leave, he takes ahold of her forearm. “It is not your sister I wish to see but you, princess”

“What could you possibly want to see me for, uncle?” She spoke, her arms folded and her head slightly tilted. “Am I not allowed to spend some time with my niece? After all, I know nothing of you” He says, his eyes wandering nowhere near her face.

Rhaella smirked. She hummed before replying. “I’ve always wanted to her your stories come from you, and more possibly-“ She was cut off by him, “You’ve heard about me and my stories?” He questions.

Rhaella playfully rolls her eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself uncle, your stories are the only entertaining thing to listen to around here” She chuckles. Daemon laughs, “Might you like to accompany Caraxes and I for a ride?” He suggests with smug smile.

1 month later…

“Where’s Daemon and Rhaella?” Rhaenyra looks around the table noticing their absent once again at the breakfast table. “Didn’t you hear, sister? Daemon’s taking Rhaella to Dragonstone today for a few months” Halaena says with a sweet smile as Rhaenyra’s jaw hangs open.

“D-Daemon’s taking Rhaella away? To Dragonstone?” She stutters as she processes what was happening. Dragonstone was supposed to be for her and Daemons. Not Rhaellas’.

“Why hasn’t anyone thought to tell me this?” She bangs her hand on the table in frustration. “I didn’t think it would concern you Princess, The Prince and Princess simply want to get to know each other more” Alicent speaks up.

“Get to know each other more? I don’t see why they can’t do that here, why must they be at Dragonstone. Father! Did you approve of this?” She looks to Viserys in disbelief. “My child, these are Daemon’s wishes. And besides, it is finally time that Rhaella chooses a Husband”

“A husband.” The princess scoffs as everyone on the table watch her, anticipating what was going to happen next. “I wanted Daemon to be my husband at her age and what did you do?! You banished him! Why does my whore of a sister get to do what ever she pleases!” Rhaenyra stands up in her seat as does Alicent. They could have sworn they saw steam leave her ears.

“How dare you call your sister that!” Viserys too stands up and hits his hand on the table loudly. “Rhaella is of age and you were not. You were the heir at the time and choosing Daemon as King consort? The realm would have been up in flames by now! My daughter. Your sister! Needs a husband sooner than later. Daemon is content with his position. Those twenty years where ever he was did him some good. Rhaella needs someone like him to confide to”

Viserys sits back down with a sigh, Rhaenyra only stood there in disbelief, shock and hatred for her half sister. Without uttering another word, she excused herself from the table and left. “She’s lost her mind” Alicent shakes her head.

Rhaenyra stormed out of the castle and into the dragon pit. She immediately paused as she witnessed Rhaella and Daemon in each other’s arms as they pat Caraxes. Rhaenyra was never able to do that the blood wyrm, he just never seemed to accept her. But Rhaella on the other hand.

Before she was could storm closer to the two a voice stops her. “Depriving your own sister of happiness?” Otto tempts her, “Just look at how happy they look with each other. I’ve never seen Daemon smile so much, have you?”

“He smiled plenty with me before” She mutters. “Ah there it is, before.” Rhaenyra glares at Otto. “Before he liked you, now he wishes to runaway with my granddaughter and marry her.” “H-he’s not marrying her” She chuckles to herself.

“Oh but he is my dear, he even asked for the King and Queen’s blessing. Your sister, much more youthful, smarter-“ “What are you trying to do?” The princess says desperately, “Stay away from them. Your sister is perfect for him and deserves happiness. Don’t let that childish dream of yours get into the road of them being happy. He’s obviously moved on and so should you Princess” Otto sternly speaks as the two of them look to the couple.

“I lost him once. Now I just lost him again,” The Princess shed a tear as she watched her half-sister get everything she ever hoped and dreamed of.

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vsnyarbll · 3 months

Text

the nights when we're alone

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader, Aegon Targaryen x reader

words: 2.605

summary: Aemond invites Aegon to give his wife a different experience in the bedroom.

warnings: smut (exhibition, voyeurism), +18, targcest

a/n: Smut is not very detailed, but there is smut. Enjoy!

"At least let me cum on her!" said Aegon. Aemond grunted and started pounding you faster.

Aegon stood at the side of the bed, watching his brother's every move and how you reacted to them. His right hand was around his cock, and he was speeding up and slowing down his hand with your reactions. You were lying face down and at Aemond's mercy.

Aegon squeezed his cock gently, letting out loud moans as Aemond's hands wrapped around your hips and caused your breathing to quicken.

You never stopped watching Aegon's facial expression. Aemond was always silent, so you were impressed that Aegon made so much noise at your slightest movements.

How did Aemond find himself in this situation? Aemond would ask himself a similar question every night the three of you got together. 'How did I let this happen?'

The answer to both questions was simple.

You two had an arranged marriage. You were the apple of the court's eye. All the lords were ready to accept your father's highest marriage proposal. But with a speed that neither you nor Aemond could understand, your father decided to marry you to Aemond.

Your father was delighted that you had married a prince and that your children would be princes and princesses.

King Viserys was also happy to see his son's wedding. He did not know if his son wanted to marry. Aemond had always been a quiet boy, and he was never one to sit and chat with his father. But all Viserys had to do to convince Aemond to marry a marriage he didn't even know he wanted was to tell him it was his duty.

In less than no time, you were married in a grand wedding. The cake was delicious. All the lords and ladies gathered at the red keep, dressed in their finest, excited to see a royal wedding. You were intimidated by the crowds, but even then, you were calmed by Aemond reaching for your hands and smiling as you exchanged your vows.

Aemond was excited to be married, even if he was afraid to admit it to himself. After many years of feeling like he belonged nowhere, he was relieved to have someone to call home. And eventually, he would have children who would love and accept him for who he was.

Aemond had always been so kind to you. You didn't have intercourse on your wedding night, but Aemond didn't mind. He could see you were worried.

He already had his self-confidence problems. But it wouldn't bother him if he knew it was him you didn't want and not the wedding night. He didn't want to ask you directly. He didn't want to appear weak when he was the one who was supposed to protect and defend you.

He had already accepted some things in his life. His brother's bullying since he was a little boy had changed his outlook on life in a partially positive way. At least, that's what he thought. No one had to love him, after all. He could live with that.

Aemond didn't know what he was doing for the kingdom by marrying you, but duty was duty. And fulfilling it was a prince's highest purpose. As long as it was polite and respectful between you, he didn't care about the rest. It was comforting to know that someone would be there when he returned to his room in the evening.

Then gradually you got used to each other. You all had your meals together. Aemond told you about some of his favorite books. You told him how interested you were in his family history.

You got on well.

Then, you fulfilled your marital duties. It took longer than expected, but neither you nor Aemond cared.

It wasn't bad. Especially when you heard how the other ladies in the castle spent their nights, you thanked each of the seven gods for giving you Aemond.

Aemond was a good man. He was careful not to hurt you. You knew he was trying to be gentle as he ran his hands over your body as if he was afraid you might break.

But there was one fact that Aemond was aware of. Your nights weren't enough for you. You wanted more. More passion.

You didn't want him to be kind to you at night after everyone was asleep behind the doors of your chambers.

You never told him that, but Aemond could tell by you averted your eyes every night when he reached up to kiss you.

You loved kissing him, watching him.

Aemond wasn't hard to love.

Even if he didn't realize it, every lady in court would grovel at the king's feet to marry him.

He was a prince. A good one.

But you knew something was missing. And it made you feel guilty.

What more could a woman want in her married life than a husband like Aemond?

And you were ashamed that your body wanted more.

It made you feel ashamed that you wanted more, more passion in an act that you were only doing to have children and to make sure your husband was enjoying his time in the marriage bed.

That was what your Septa taught you. She couldn't have known anything wrong, could she?

Then Aemond caught the way you looked at someone at a family dinner. No one else could have noticed, but Aemond was aware of everything. When you looked at Aegon and locked eyes with him, you turned your head and smiled slightly in a way that others would have interpreted as politeness. Anyone else would have thought you were behaving as you should exactly, but they didn't see what Aemond saw.

The way you turned your head and blushed slightly, the way your chest rose and fell faster, the way you pressed your thighs together… Even then, you looked more excited than any night in bed with Aemond.

It was no surprise you wanted Aegon. He has always had a reputation for exciting women. His callous and uncaring demeanor appealed to most women, even if Aemond couldn't understand it.

Then Aemond thought.

He knew that if he made such an offer to Aegon, he would accept it unconditionally. He also knew his mother or anyone else at the castle would never know this.

He had to convince himself. He did not know if he could bear to see his wife with his brother like that. He put off thinking about it for a while.

Then, one night, you moaned Aegon's name as you came.

Neither of you looked at each other after Aemond pulled out of you.

You held tightly to the sheet that covered your body and turned your back to him. You buried your face in your pillow, almost letting it suffocate you, and waited for sleep to overtake you.

You were sure he would be furious.

And Aemond reconsidered the decision he was about to make a few weeks ago.

He stared at the ceiling for a while and twisted his rings, which made you watch his fingers for longer than necessary when he wore them. Perhaps inviting Aegon to his bed wasn't such a bad thing. The Targaryens had never cared about social norms. Why would Aemond care?

Aegon wasn't hard to set up. Aemond went to his room to ask his opinion on the matter.

Aegon opened the door with a suspiciously sweaty and red face. "Aegon…" he said, and his lips formed a thin line. "I can come back later. I think… you're busy." Aegon shook his head and straightened his trousers, which made Aemond sigh. He considered giving up before it was too late. But when Aegon said, "Nonsense. Come in." he realized how long it had taken him to work up the courage, and he didn't want to waste it.

He briefly told Aegon what he wanted to do. He received it with great excitement, just as Aemond expected. "Your wife… I mean… I don't want to sound disrespectful, but I sometimes wish it was me who married her."

Aemond did not react, but he sank further into his chair.

It took him less time than he expected to convince Aegon. The hard part was convincing you. Because you denied it for days, even crying when Aemond pushed too hard.

You asked what kind of a wife he saw you as with an angry face. "What kind of a wife betrays her husband!" you said several times. Because you never thought he would actually do something like this. You thought he was testing your loyalty.

One evening, you were having dinner together, and you were both sitting calmly. You thought that Aemond had given up the question he had been asking, and you were relieved. You reached for the glass on the table close to Aemond, afraid to look at his face. He took your hand and made you look at him.

Then he said the last thing you wanted him to say. He let out the anger you've been holding in for days. You stood up in anger and caused the chair to fall backward. "Yes! Yes, I want Aegon to fuck me! Are you happy now?!"

Aemond had never seen you so pissed off.

You looked at him, worried about how he would react to your sudden outburst, but you held your head high.

Aemond took a sip of wine and said, "Yes, that's what I wanted to hear." calmly. You nervously gripped the table and looked at his face, not understanding.

A few nights later, you were combing your hair to get ready for bed. You had forgotten or erased from your mind what Aemond had insisted on because you could not imagine Aemond doing such a thing.

Then the door opened, and someone came in. Your back was to the door, but you didn't look at the person because you were sure it was Aemond. No one else would come to your room at that hour. Then you almost jumped as the voice of someone you didn't expect filled your ears. "I'll never understand why women brush their hair before sleep."

You turned around quickly, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. You clenched the comb in your hand, trying to draw strength, and your gaze shifted between your husband and Aegon.

You were still trying to wrap your head around what had happened as Aemond took off the cloak he was wearing over his thin shirt.

At first, the two of you were together, and Aegon watched you. Your face never turned in his direction. But even with such a simple situation, Aemond had realized how you squeezed him more than usual when you came.

After spending a few nights together, you found the courage. You turned your head towards Aegon and began to watch him.

You imagined them both next to your body. You imagined their hands sliding over your body and grasping you together.

Aegon began to run his hand over his trousers as if this was the signal he had been waiting for to do more. When your gaze shifted to between his legs, he pulled his trousers down to his hips and pulled out his cock. It was as if he was always waiting for the slightest sign from you to do more.

This went on for a few months.

During the day, you were ashamed to look at the armchair where Aegon sat. The armchair reminded you of Aegon's eyes that wouldn't leave your face when he came. You even tried to cover it with one of your dresses, but then you gave up. Even without any tangible evidence to remind you, it had happened, and you liked it.

In the evening, both of them came to your room again. Aemond had not allowed him to touch you even with the tip of his finger, and he was determined to continue to do so. Aegon was only a part of the pleasure he wanted to give you. No more was necessary than Aemond had already allowed.

But now that Aegon had seen you in every possible position with every possible ejaculation expression, it was starting to make him angry that he couldn't touch you.

If the choice had been yours, you would have stepped between them the first night they entered the room together.

Aegon had reached his breaking point after begging and being denied all night long to touch you or at least to cup your breast once. "At least let me cum on her!"

Aemond grunted and started pounding you faster. "Fine! But only on her ass." He was tired of hearing Aegon's begging.

You got even more excited when you heard what Aemond said.

Aegon moved closer to the bed. All three of you were about to cum.

Aegon couldn't stop his body from moving as he moved his hand, and the tip of his cock touched your leg with every movement.

Aegon threw his head back but quickly raised it again for fear of missing the sight before him. Your eyes locked as he quickened his hand. Aegon raised his free hand as if to reach for you, but fearing Aemond, he placed it on his leg.

You came first.

Your breathing quickened, but you held back most of your moans. Even though it had been a few months, it was still embarrassing to be exposed in front of more than one person.

Then Aemond pulled out and came on the cloth next to you.

And finally, Aegon got what he had dreamed of for months and came on your ass.

You almost shivered when you felt the warm liquid on you. You let out a loud breath.

He rested his hand on the side of the bed, and you were excited that your hands were almost touching.

Aemond turned around to get dressed, needing privacy as if the three of you hadn't just cum together.

Aegon quickly looked at Aemond, and when he was sure he couldn't see you, he ran his fingers over yours. Your eyes moved from his softened cock to his body.

When he saw that you didn't react negatively to his touch, he moved his hand to your back and stroked you gently. "You did well." he said in a low voice.

You smiled and began to study his face with dreamy eyes.

Aemond turned around and took the cloth he had just used and cleaned you.

Aegon sighed. "You couldn't leave it like that, could you?"

You didn't move. You kept lying face down. You were feeling a little tired, but the main reason for not changing your position was to avoid waking up if you were in a dream. Because if it wasn't a dream, you couldn't understand how these two men could be so interested in you. And if it was a dream, it was a long and satisfying one.

Aemond took the cloth to the bathroom and came back to you. He laid down and pulled you to him. You wore nothing, and both of them would have preferred you to be naked in front of them, even if they didn't say it out loud.

Aegon quickly put on his pants and sat down next to you.

"You do not sleep with us, Aegon," Aemond said without opening his eye. He hugged you tightly- afraid you'd disappear in his arms.

Aegon grinned. "I know, I know," he said as he ran his hands through his hair.

But in the morning, the three of you woke up with your arms around each other.

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elliewlums · 1 year

Note

aegon sucks ur tits to relax/calm down. & he also does it unconsciously, you’re not surprised to wake up to him sucking.

REAL!! this boy has a hardcore mommy kink i feel it in my balls

content warnings: non sexual nudity, tits in mouf, aegon is so babygirl

imagining him prying back your silk nightgown to reach your tits, wrapping his arms around your middle and nestling in comfortably. he moulds himself to your own body and as soon as his mouth closes around the malleable flesh there, he goes soft and lax.

you wake to him dozing, your skin littered with dark marks where he’s gotten overzealous. he grumbles but is quickly coaxed back down by your hands in his flaxen tresses, scratching at his scalp. he practically purrs at the affection, not unlike a cat where he leans into your hands. you run your thumb across the creases in his forehead, smoothing the tension he holds.

“sweet boy,” you coo. he snakes an arm beneath the fabric of your gown and rakes his short fingernails across your bare back. you sigh appreciatively, twirling loose strands of blonde and tucking them away from his face.

he can count on you for moments of reprieve; and no matter what his days hold, he’s comforted by the fact that he always has you to come back to.

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the-daydreaming-show · 16 days

Text

Concept/Sneak Peek: Aegon II Targaryen x OlderSister!Reader.

“Do you love me?” Aegon asked in a tearful whisper. He looked angelic, in his white pajamas and his violet eyes filled with tears that refused to fall but were clearly there. The question had come out of nowhere, but you still answered it without any hesitation.

“Of course I love you, Aegon,” you told him, whispering back and making him feel like it was just you and him in the world. He looked at you surprised, perhaps a little relieved, and a tear slid down his cheek. “You are my brother, my blood. I love the bones off you, husband.”

The need struck Aegon suddenly, just with that, and he began to pray in his mind to the gods that you would take his offer. Well, now he did not want for anything in the world that his mother would fulfill her mission and annul your marriage. There was nothing more in the world than he wanted to stay by your side for the rest of his life, now he understood that.

Where you, the youngest daughter of Aemma and Viserys, married Aegon, the eldest son of Alicent Hightower, after the incident of the eye of Aemond in Driftmark. Years after your marriage, you fulfill your duty as Hand of the King. Since no children have been born from you union, your stepmother plans to request the annulment of your marriage, to marry Aegon to a daughter of the Baratheon. This is to ensure the support of that house when Viserys dies.

Aegon, who has enjoyed suffocating freedom since he married you when he was only fourteen, doesn't want that, and for the wrong reasons. He resigns himself to doing his duty in order to remain free, you two need a child, but he finds himself with something much better than freedom: a life tied to you.

(Let me know if you're interested in a fanfic like this, I could make it a series, because I love the concept, but I don't know.

Edit: Let me know if you want to be tag in the the post)

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elegantsplendour · 10 months

Note

When is Love is a downfall part 2 coming!!!

probably tomorrow or the day after tmr baby💌

Teaser:

The second prince.

The second choice.

Always and forever.

But not to her.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond the kinslayer #aemond stannies #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 10 months

Text

Love and The Lack of Ass (modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aegon expresses his feelings over your very apparent thirst for Miguel O’Hara in the most Aegon way possible: sulking.

Warnings: Nothing of note, except for excessive thirsting over Miguel O’Hara

Word Count: 1.6K

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: You guys deserve something fluffy after my last Aemond one shot 💗 also, I’m thinking of writing some HOTD one shots based off different Barbie movies. Would anyone be up for that?

The sound of footsteps on tiles and laughter echoed throughout the otherwise silent apartment block. “Okay, I gotta admit,” Aegon said, while teetering under the weight of two Hawaiian pizza boxes, a few boxes of chicken wings and fries, and some bottles of beer they bought from the convenience store, as you fumbled for the keys in your bag. “That it was a pretty kick ass movie. Although I still prefer the other Spiderman movies.”

You gasp, kicking open the door to your apartment, “Aegon I don’t know what your middle name is Targaryen, you take that back right now.”

“Middle name is Sexyman, gorgeous,” Aegon winked, although he shrieked and quickly ran inside the apartment the both of you shared when you began whacking him with your bag. “This is assault, and I’m calling my lawyer!” Aegon called across his shoulder as he sat down the bags that he was carrying on your dining table.

“Well, I’m telling your lawyer you deserved it,” you declared, crossing your arms as you gave him a vicious glare. Sunfyre, Aegon’s large goldendoodle, sniffed eagerly at the delicious smell emanating from the pizza and chicken wings, but Aegon shooed him away. “How dare you say that Tom Holland’s Spiderman movies are better than the Spiderverse movies? I ought to break up with you.”

“Hey, I have a man crush on Jake Gyllenhaal, alright? Can you not shame me for my sexual preferences?” Aegon huffed, but he backed away squealing when you tried to jab him in the ribs. Sunfyre barked excitedly and leaped at Aegon, seeming to think it was a new game. “Woman! Now you’ve turned my dog against me too?! What kind of world is this?”

“A very fair one,” you said smugly, reaching to scratch Sunfyre behind the ears. “You see, even your dog is telling you you have bad taste.”

“Hey, don’t act like you didn’t like this movie solely because of Miguel O’Hara,” Aegon protested, backing away to their bedroom for safety purposes. “Who are you to judge me for my man crush?”

“That’s because Jake Gyllenhaal is an awful piece of trash who groomed Taylor Swift,” you huffed. “And can you blame me? Miguel O’Hara is so-” you mimed swooning from all the hotness as Aegon rolled his eyes. “Like goddamn, take one look at his strong, hulking build and tell me you don’t feel things!” you demanded. Aegon rolled his eyes again, with such strength it was a wonder they didn’t tumble to another dimension. “Sorry, love, I’m not into muscles.”

“Well, I am,” you declared, hands on your hips. “And don’t even get me started on his asscheeks. Boy if I could-”

“LA LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Aegon yelled, stuffing his fingers into his ears as he made a swift retreat to your bedroom. Sighing in relief as he shut the door to your bedroom, he quickly changed out of his leather jacket and white shirt into a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and flexed, smirking at his own reflection. Damn, I’m hot, he thought to himself, turning to get a glimpse of his side angle. But his smirk faded into a frown as he examined his reflection to look at his own…well, rather flat, behind. Remembering your earlier comments about liking men with muscles, he tried flexing his arms, but they seemed quite pathetic in comparison to Miguel O’Hara’s.

He felt annoyance beginning to rise in him, ‘Damn it, I’m Aegon Targaryen, the hottest guy in King’s Landing University! Every single guy wishes they could be me! How am I getting insecure over some 2D character?’ But then he heard you squealing from the living room while being on a phonecall, no doubt with one of your friends, “I KNOW RIGHT! Miguel is LITERALLY my dream man. I mean, take one look at those muscles and that ass and my god did you see his fangs-”

Unable to hear anymore, Aegon flung open the door to your bedroom, dramatically stomping to your living room, and curled up on the couch, pouting as he turned on the TV. You frowned a little as you moved around your kitchen, laying out your dinner while you reheated the pizza in the oven. Your best friend, Baela, was still babbling in your ear about the Spiderverse movie, specifically about some very explicit things she would like to do to Miguel O’Hara and Spider-Gwen, but you were no longer paying attention.

“Baela, babe, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hung up, just as the oven emitted a ‘ping!’, signalling that the pizza was done. But that could wait. You made your way to your couch, catching sight of Aegon curling up on the couch, a cushion in his arms and a pout on his face as he browsed through the selections on your streaming channel. You nearly giggled at how adorable he was. Was he bothered by your earlier thirsty comments about Miguel? You knew how sensitive your boyfriend could be at times. Suddenly, a lightbulb shone in your head, and you grinned maliciously to yourself as a plan began to hatch in your brain.

Aegon yelped when a figure leaped onto him, dropping the remote on the floor with a loud clatter. Sunfyre came up to the couch, barking excitedly, as Aegon tried kicking at his girlfriend, though in vain. “Woman! What are you doing?!”

“Showering you with my love, of course,” you declared, as you planted loud kisses on Aegon’s face. Laughing and somewhat screaming, Aegon tried to wrestle back control so he was on top again, but you weren’t letting that happen, not on your watch. “Are you upset about my earlier comments about Miguel?” Aegon immediately stopped struggling, instead pushing his girlfriend away and scooching to the far end of the couch, resuming his despondent pouting. You wanted to let out an “awww” at how cute your boyfriend was acting, but you knew now was not the time.

Aegon felt arms wrap around him and soft kisses on his neck, but he didn’t budge as he continued to turn his head away and pout. “Why don’t you go and find muscular Miguel instead? He would be better to cuddle with than me,” Aegon grumbled. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Aegon’s blatant display of jealousy. “Oh, my love, you know that it was all just talk right? You’re still the one I love most,” you teased, running a hand through his gorgeous white blonde hair. “It doesn’t really seem like it,” Aegon grouched.

You were about to make a snarky comment, but you caught the faintest hint of hurt in his voice, and your expression softened. Aegon might seem childish, but after being his girlfriend for nearly two years, you were sensitive to his every mood change, and how insecure he could be despite his cocky, confident front. You knew Aegon had a rocky childhood and struggled with the concept of commitment and love, and his fears of you leaving him when you decided you had enough of him one day. Biting your bottom softly, you moved to embrace him, resting your head on his shoulder as you spoke sweetly, “Aegon…you know you’ll forever be the only one for me right? Even though I behave like a horny, thirsty teenager sometimes, I want you to know, I love you the way you are. And Miguel O’Hara’s muscles will never get in the way of that.”

Aegon was quiet for a while, and you were worried that he was really hurt this time, but then he mumbled, “...even if I don’t have any asscheeks?” You laughed, tilting his head to face yours again, and your heart melted at the sight of his soulful purple eyes. “Yes, even if you don’t have any asscheeks. I’m not that fond of big butts anyway, yours is just nice.”

Aegon brightened immediately, abruptly leaning in to kiss you. The both of you made out on your couch for a while, tangling your hands in each other’s hair and moaning quietly. You were interrupted however, by Sunfyre’s bark and him scrambling on the couch to get it on the “group cuddle”.

“Damn, can’t a man not be cockblocked by his pooch for a moment?” Aegon grumbled as you both broke away from your kiss, grinning breathlessly at each other. Sunfyre stood on his hind paws to try and climb over you to Aegon’s lap, and you chuckled, “Apparently not. I think he’s telling us he’s hungry.”

“Yes, for my attention,” Aegon said smugly as Sunfyre successfully managed to clamber over you and into Aegon’s lap. He scratched Sunfyre behind his ears and smiled, forgetting why he was even upset in the first place. “Looks like you’re not that unhappy anymore,” you noted with a smile. Aegon immediately tried to look pouty again, though since his heart was not in it anymore it just made him look impish instead of mournful. “Noooo that’s not true, I’m still in need of comfort. And a kiss,” he tried to move in for a kiss again, but you flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!” he cried out indignantly, but you soothed his complaints by leaning in to plant a quick peck on his cheek. “Let’s have dinner first, then you can have all the kisses you want in bed later.” Aegon grinned, and moved to shove Sunfyre off his lap, ignoring the large dog’s whine. “I’ll hold you to that, my love!” he called out as he bounded over to the kitchen to take the pizza out of the oven.

You chuckled as you followed after him, Sunfyre begging at your feet for scraps. Screw Miguel and his muscles, who needs him when you have your own loveable little dork right here?

can someone tell me what level of thirst is considered unhealthy because i don’t think me and my friends know anymore.

as always, let me know how you thought of this one shot in the comments and through reblogs! if you wish to be added to an aegon taglist, or any taglist for other HOTD characters, do comment down below! thank you for reading! 💗

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starogeorgina · 6 months

Text

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

Paring: Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen OC

Warnings: None

Chapter: 1.01

“Rhaenyra!” You continue to rapidly bang your fist against the door leading into your elder sister's bedroom. "Rhaenyra, open this door right now!”

You hated her.

“You’re a fucking coward to hide from me!” You didn’t care that your language was unfit for a young lady, a princess; Rhaenyra had cut you deeply, and you wanted to make sure she knew it. “Unlock this door at once!”

You hated her.

“I would have never done this to you,” you sob. “I loved you, Rhaenyra, my big sister. We’re supposed to look out for each other, not... I would never do this. Not to you, never.”

You only stop banging on the door when your fist is pulled back by Ser Criston. “You need to stop before you hurt yourself, princess.”

You knew he was right, but it didn’t stop the anger that was radiating through you. Not only has Rhaenyra humiliated you by sleeping with your husband, she has also given birth to his sons. Three of them. Something you were never even given the chance to do. Your brain comes to a heartbreaking realization, one that makes you want to scream as soon as you think about it. Rhaenyra doesn’t care about you and never did. You feel your knees start to weaken, and your stomach drops. The knight whispers, “I know you’re hurting, princess, but they aren’t worthy of your tears.”

You take a deep breath and wipe your fallen tears away, knowing that he was right. “Thank you, Ser Criston.”

“The queen heard about what happened and would like for you to join her in her quarters. She wishes to offer you her comfort.”

You blink away the tears, your vision becoming more clear, and when it does, you see your husband standing down at the opposite end of the hallway. No doubt he was coming to see her. He was staring at you, looking worried. You feel your heart harden, not wanting to give him or her the satisfaction of seeing you hurt. You push back the sob, desperately wanting to escape your throat. “Ser Criston, do you mind escorting me to the queen's chambers?”

“Of course, princess.”

—

“How could she betray me in such a way?”

Alicent wraps her around your shoulder; she seems genuinely concerned about you. You had managed to maintain a smidgen of your dignity by holding your head high as you walked through the castle, ignoring all the side-eye glances and whispers going on around you. One of Alicent’s ladies-in-waiting brings in a tray of tea that’s supposed to help calm nerves.

“Prin-”

“Ivory,” you correct with a weak smile.

Lord Strong nods, “Ivory, I am ashamed to admit that rumors of my brother's betrayal had reached me long ago, but I assumed there was no truth to it. It wasn’t until I learned about the incident in the training yard this morning that I came to realize it was true.”

You had spent the last year defending Rhaenyra and Harwin, insisting that Jacaerys and Lucerys weren’t fathered by your husband before you were married. Because of your age, you had yet to lay with Harwin, and you thought if he was going to stray, it would be in the streets of silk, not with your own flesh and blood.

“She swore to me in our mothers names that they were Ser Lenors true-born sons. How could I have been so foolish?”

“You aren’t foolish, my sweet.” Alicent picks up a cup of tea and hands it to you, giving you a sympathetic look as she notices your hands trembling. “You have been deceived, and I can only imagine what Viserys will have to say when he finds out.”

You shake your head. It was widely known that Rhaenyra was your father's favorite, and learning what she was really like could be the thing that breaks him. “My love for my father is the only thing keeping me quiet. He is sick; finding out the truth about what Rhaenyra has done might be the thing that kills him, and we do not want him to suffer. If I’m being honest, I don’t know what to do.”

“I find that praying helps me find clarity and reassurance. I pray to the mother nightly; you can join me if you wish.”

“Perhaps I should pray to the warrior as well as the mother.” You chuckle lightly. “I could really use the gods' strength and courage."

—

After visiting the sept the night previously, the queen had arranged for you to stay in a separate bedchamber for the night since your quarter was beside Rhaenyra’s.

In the morning, Ser Criston escorted you back to your quarters; with him by your side, nobody dared approach you. The knight made pleasant small talk and even managed to make you laugh. When you reach your quarters, you thank him before walking into your bedchamber. You sit down at your vanity and begin to unbraid your hair, only stopping when you hear the door opening.

“Flora?” You call out, hoping to see your lady in waiting, who has become a close friend over the years. “Flora, is that you?”

When you turn around, you’re stunned to see Rhaenyra and Harwin. At first, you were afraid that the sight of them would upset you, but now, as you sit in front of them, all you feel is anger.

You say nothing; you turn your back on them and shift your attention to taking the remainder of your braids out. You push down the lump forming in your throat when Rhaenyra kneels down beside you with tears in her eyes. You pretend she isn’t even there and get up to go pick a dress to wear once you are bathed.

“Ivory! Ivory, please,” Rhaenyra begs. “It happened before you were betrothed! I never wanted you to find out like this. Sister, please! Just let me explain!”

You had fully intended to continue giving her the cold shoulder, but hearing the word sister caused you to snap. You can’t believe she had the nerve to call you that. You spin around fast, and your expression pulls into one of anger and hurt as you snap, “Don’t call me that again.”

Rhaenyra steps back as if you’d struck her.

Harwin says, “I am sincerely sorry for betraying your trust.”

You scoff, annoyed that he seems upset when it’s you that should be hurt by his dishonorable actions. “Until such a time that I am of age to perform my duty as princess and your wife, I don’t think we need to speak again.”

“Ivory…”

“You may leave, Ser Harwin.”

When the knight leaves, you turn to face your sister, whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, which angers you further. “Since the day Jace was born, I have loved him; the same is true of Luke. You’ve watched me play with them and sing to them. I’ve basically grown up with them, and not once did you ever think to tell me they were fathered by Harwin.”

“I tried to spare you the pain of knowing the truth.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips. “You must really hate me.”

She squeezes her eyes shut as more tears roll down her cheeks. “I love you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve always looked up to you; I wanted to be just like you. My perfect big sister.” You shake your head, backing away from her slightly when she reaches for you. “Do not touch me.”

"When my father told me about his plans for you and Harwin to wed, I tried to stop the betrothal; I really did.”

“I believe you,” you say, wiping away more fallen tears. You hardly knew Harwin; he would occasionally accompany you on walks around the garden, and nothing more than a kiss on the back of the hand was shared between you, but he was still your husband. “Both Jacaerys and Lucerys were born before the betrothal; I would have easily looked past that and done everything I could to help protect them. But Joffrey, he’s only a few days old. Even after I married Harwin, you continued to have an affair with him.”

You see guilt pass over her features before she drops her gaze to the floor and says, “I’m sorry.”

“I still love my nephews; that will never change, but I can’t be around them right now. Not after knowing what I know, it will just be a constant reminder."

“Of my betrayal.” Rhaenyra takes a deep breath; red patches have appeared across her neck and chest. “I hope one day you can forgive me.”

When Rhaenyra leaves the room, you throw yourself onto your bed, pull your pillow to your face, and sob into it. This was too much pressure for a girl of one and five to bear.

When someone knocks at your door, you groan a little, assuming Harwin or Rhaenyra had come back. “Go away,” you mumble into your pillow. You lift your head to tell them to go away, but change your mind when you see who it is “Aegon, what are you doing here?”

He avoids looking you in the eye and shrugs. “My mother said you were upset.”

“So you came to check on me?”

You weren’t much older than Aegon; before you had even celebrated your first name day, your father had remarried, and Queen Alicent was pregnant. You were surprised to see Aegon, considering he didn’t spend much time with any of your siblings.

He rolls his eyes and says, “No.”

“Oh, then what are you doing here?”

“Wanted to know if you’d like to go dragon riding together.”

You smile and say, “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

Aegon on Sunfyre and you on Ghost were exactly what you needed to take your mind off everything else that was going on.

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