#aegon ii angst

[vsnyarbll]

A Targaryen prince is a heavy burden pt3

atpiahb masterlist, part1, part2, part3, part4, part5

main masterlist

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

words: 5.958

warnings: explicit language, nsfw (male masturbation, sexual thoughts) angst, patriarchy, love triangle (kind of?)

a/n: English is not my native language.

y/n entered through the black double-winged door. She didn't feel the need to knock. The person y/n was visiting was probably asleep anyway. She didn't want to wake him. 

It was getting on towards three in the afternoon. The servants had finished their work, and everyone else in the castle had gone to their corners. 

A week after her parents had arrived at the Red Keep, they were gone. y/n was not sad. She was happy that they had stayed longer than she had expected. 

"Aegon?" she called, but the man in the bed did not move. y/n walked to the side where Aegon was not lying. He wasn't wearing night clothes. He must have come from outside and curled up on the bed. 

y/n lay down on the bed without getting under the covers. She began to rub her arms, which ached from carrying Maelor.

"y/n," he said. But his eyes were still closed. y/n turned her gaze from the pictures of dragons on the wall of his room to him. Aegon rubbed his eyes with his right hand, but he still had not opened them. "y/n," he said again, his voice rough from waking up a moment ago. y/n couldn't tell if Aegon knew her presence in his room.

He opened his eyes and studied the ceiling, still not looking at her. Aegon turned to his right and was startled to see her. "y/n?" he said. This time he sounded surprised by her presence in his room.

"Hello, Aegon."

Aegon stirred where he lay. "When did you get here?" 

"I just got here."

Aegon mumbled something, but y/n couldn't understand what he said. 

"I was bored. And there is nothing to do in the castle." 

Aegon chuckled and barely managed to sit up sleepily, leaning his back against the headboard. "Maelor-" 

"With his wet nurse."

"Aemond-" 

"The gods know where he is." 

Aegon nodded. 

y/n's arm was touching his. He tried to ignore the slight pressure on his arm. But also, he tried to savor their little interaction. 

"Have you forgiven me?" 

y/n turned her head towards him. "I don't know, Aegon."

Aegon smoothed the sheets over him, hoping the bulge between his legs wouldn't show. 

"Were you dreaming?" she asked.

He blushed slightly as Aegon's dream filled his memory again. The details of his dream were fading, but he still remembered y/n's curves and the sounds she made. "No, I wasn't. Why would you think that?"

The possibility that Aegon might have made noises while sleeping and that she might have heard them worried him. 

"I don't know. You seemed peaceful." 

Aegon grimaced. He didn't like waking up. Sleeping was the best way to escape the responsibilities of real life. "I was peaceful."

y/n reached up and pulled a lock of hair out of Aegon's eyes. Her fingertips caressed his forehead as she brushed his hair out of his face. "There's no reason you shouldn't be at peace when you're not sleeping." 

Aegon bowed his head. His cheeks warmed even more with y/n's fingertips touching his forehead.

He immediately turned his face away from her. "It's getting colder. Fall is coming, isn't it?" 

y/n giggled. "I suppose so." 

Aegon looked like he wanted to say something. He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes but said nothing. 

"I don't want to be cross with you, do you understand?" she asked.

"Yes, I understand." 

y/n turned her body fully towards him. And put her hand on his arm. "It still doesn't feel right that you didn't tell me, but I understand your reasons." 

Aegon wanted to push y/n's hand away. His feelings for her were no longer an innocent infatuation. Everything he felt for her had intensified. And he didn't want those desires to damage whatever it was between them. 

"You can forgive me any time you want. I deserve every moment you don't forgive me." 

"Just because I resent you doesn't mean we can't spend time together, okay? You can come to my chambers whenever you want." 

Aegon unconsciously moved his hand to his forehead where y/n's fingers had just touched it. "I thought you wouldn't want to see me." 

"There are only two people in this whole castle that I don't want to see. I live in the same chambers with one of them, and the other comes every day to spend time with her grandson." 

Aegon smiled.

y/n fixed her eyes on the picture on the wall again. "Your absence makes it harder for me to tolerate them." 

As Aegon babbled something about understanding, y/n turned to him again. Then she ran her fingers through the waves of his hair.

When y/n first came to the castle, his hair was always unkempt, and his waves were barely visible. 

But now he woke up every morning and combed his hair, using various oils to bring out his waves. 

Because once, when the servants prepared his hair for a celebration, y/n said his waves were beautiful. 

Aegon took her hand from his arm. "I will come to you." 

The warmth of his hand felt good against y/n's cold one. The ring he always wore on his finger was uncomfortable pressure against her hand, but she didn't mind. 

y/n couldn't stop her face from heating up as Aegon held her hand, and their faces were so close.

She carefully got out of bed. "I see you're not wearing your nightclothes. The queen has invited me to tea. Would you like to come?" 

Aegon shuddered at the thought of spending time with his mother long enough to sit and drink tea, but he did not want to leave y/n vulnerable. "Yes, of course." 

y/n crossed her arms and waited for him to get out of bed. They looked at each other briefly. "Oh... You're waiting for me to come."

"Yes?" 

If Aegon came out from under the covers, y/n would see his bulge. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. And anyway, the situation was inappropriate, no matter how you looked at it. 

"I... I need to do something. I need... I need some time. I'll be right with you." 

y/n raised her eyebrows slightly. "You need to do something?" 

Aegon resolutely kept his serious expression on his face and nodded. "I need to do something." 

One side of y/n's lip lifted as she looked at his face. "Have fun," she said. And she left the room without looking back.

Aegon looked over to where y/n had just stood, his expression alternating between surprise and embarrassment.

She didn't understand. Right?

xxx

Aegon hurried out into the hall after finishing his work.

Stroking his hand around his cock several times was enough to get him to cum. He came faster than he usually did. Because y/n, the central source of his desires, had just touched his arm, his face.

Just thinking about her scent filling his nose every time she moved made him finish quickly.

He looked for a while at the semen spilling onto his fingers. The thought of how he could fill her with it almost made him hard again, but he quickly dressed back.

When he arrived in front of his mother's room, he sighed deeply and knocked on the door.

"You may come in," said the familiar voice.

Aegon went in, and when he saw his mother's depressed chambers, he wanted to go out again. 

All around the room were seven-pointed stars and objects that reminded her mother of her gods. But he was more stressed by what he experienced in the room than by the objects.

"Aegon," his mother said in surprise. "I thought you were asleep, as always."

"I was, but I woke up. Then I realized we hadn't spent time together in a while."

His mother smiled but seemed uncomfortable with her eldest son's presence.

He saw y/n sitting on the armchair in the center of the room, eating the lemon cake in front of her. She smiled at Aegon and slid over to make room for him, obviously wanting him to sit with her.

Aegon returned her smile and was about to sit with her, but his mother moved first and sat down with y/n, sending her son a stern look.

Aegon sighed again and settled into the seat opposite them.

"Talya, will you bring the prince some wine?"

'Yet another humiliation.' he thought. "I'll have tea or whatever it is you drink."

The mother looked at her son again with the same puzzled expression and looked at y/n from the corner of her eye. "All right. Talya, the prince will have some tea."

The queen's maid brought tea and a plate for Prince Aegon. She placed a slice of cake on his plate.

"Would you like anything else, my prince?" she asked. Her eyes were constantly shifting between the queen and the prince.

"No, I'm fine."

The maid bowed to the queen and went to the back of the room again.

"Lady y/n, you look happier than usual today. Has something different happened?"

y/n set her cup down on the table and looked briefly at Aegon.

"Nothing different, your grace," y/n said. But she smiled to herself.

Aegon awarded that y/n felt more at ease with his presence in the room.

"Where is your husband?"

y/n's smile instantly froze at the mention of Aemond. "I do not know, my queen."

Whatever the queen did and whatever she said was meant to imply something. y/n may not have realized it, but Aegon knew her well enough to know her mother's every move.

"Has your milk stopped?" The queen asked instantly. y/n almost choked on her tea. "I always wanted you to nurse my grandson yourself, but of course, it is your choice," she said mockingly.

y/n stared at her mother-in-law. How could she have an opinion on such a matter? "I don't think it's something to discuss in front of your son, your grace."

The queen gave a fake smile. "I don't think you are beware of Aegon, my daughter. If you can discuss your bedroom problems with him, I am sure you will have no problem discussing this."

y/n was instantly on her feet. "Is that what this is all about? Is that the reason for your suggestive glances and sarcastic tone?" Then she added reluctantly. "Your grace."

"You're a married woman. You think you can hang out with your husband's brother out of nowhere?"

"Your grace-"

"Mother," said Aegon as he stood up. "How can you accuse Lady y/n like that? Nothing has passed between us. Is the idea that there can only be friendship between us so impossible to you?"

"Sit down, Aegon. I-"

"Instead of blaming y-" he cleared his throat. "Instead of blaming Lady y/n, teach your son how to behave honorably."

The queen stood up in anger. But like Aemond, she did not easily let her anger get the better of her.

"How about you teach him, Aegon, as his elder brother?" she locked her hands. "Perhaps you would if you could get your nose out of the brothels and free yourself from the time you've taken to drooling over my maids."

Aegon clenched his fists. "Mother, you-"

y/n grabbed Aegon's fist. "Aegon, forget it."

"Aegon? When did you become so close that you no longer call each other by your titles? And you expect me to believe that this is a simple friendship?"

y/n turned angrily to the queen this time. "Instead of lecturing us on morals here, deal with your son's faults, your grace." she took a deep breath to calm herself. "And when I say deal with his faults, I don't mean cover them up," she said. "Have you ever spoken to him about it, my queen?"

"About what?"

"Are you mad, mother? Have you finally lost your mind? She's talking about Aemond cheating on Lady y/n and all of you acting as if nothing happened."

The queen looked at Aegon with wide eyes.

"Can we go, my prince?" y/n asked in a low voice. 

Aegon looked at y/n, who was now completely wrapped in his arm. He decided he had to hurry to get her out of that room. And he nodded silently.

The queen watched her son and daughter-in-law leave the room, her heart beating fast. She was sure that they didn't realize what they called friendship between them was so much more than friendship.

But all she wanted to do was protect Aemond. She didn't care about the peace or happiness of her eldest son or a girl from another land.

The moment Aegon and y/n stepped out into the hallway, they breathed a sigh of relief. y/n was holding Aegon's hand, but she didn't realize it. Aegon wanted to squeeze his hand tighter around her, but he didn't dare. He knew she would pull her hand away if she realized they were holding hands.

"I apologize for my mother, for everyone."

"You didn't do anything, Aegon. You're not the one who should apologize. And I don't think the queen talking to her son will change him. You can change how someone acts. But you can't change who they are inside."

Aegon nodded sadly. "What do you want to do-"

y/n instantly pulled her hand away from his. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

y/n stopped walking and looked at Aegon. The prince was tall, so she should have raised her head to see his face, but she didn't. Instead, she looked at Aegon through her lashes.

Aegon had long imagined how she would look like this, and now here she was. 

If they weren't in a sad state, Aegon would get hard again. That was one of the biggest troubles he had been having for a few months. 

"I'm tired. I should go to my chambers.

"Of course," Aegon said, his voice shaking.

y/n began to make her way to her room. Aegon watched her walk, already missing the presence of her hand in his. 

If she were Aegon's, he wouldn't leave her alone for a second. His hands would always be on her hands. On her arms. And on her whole body. He would think of her before himself. Her pleasure before his own. Her comfort before his own.

y/n suddenly turned around. Aegon didn't look away, not afraid that she knew he was watching her. 

"You are not what she says you are. Just because someone tries to mold you doesn't mean you have to fit that mold, Aegon."

Aegon could not answer. He felt his knees growing weak and unable to hold him up. ‘Just because someone tries to mold you doesn't mean you have to fit that mold.’ He repeated the words inwardly as if to commit them to his memory.

As y/n walked to her chambers, he moved to the edge of the wall and held on to it.

xxx

Aemond took a short ride with his dragon and turned back. 

He did not use the royal carriage from the Dragonpit back to the castle. One of the things that helped him clear his head was his daily walks. 

He used to enjoy training with Ser Criston, but spending long hours on the training field was no longer what he found peaceful. Wielding a sword was still his passion, but now he liked to deal with calmer matters. 

Ever since he had claimed Vhagar, she had always made it possible for Aemond to take short breaks from life. He liked being in the sky better than on the ground. 

Aemond didn't tie his hair up when he flew, unlike his kin. He liked the way the wind licked his hair and blew it back. 

But he always dressed warmly. Aemond hated being cold. That's why he always wanted to snuggle up to y/n at night and sleep. And, of course, he wanted to be as close to her as he could. But she refused to even look at him, let alone hold him.

But before, they slept glued to each other every night. 

And on nights when neither of them could sleep, they would snuggle under a blanket and watch the stars. 

He couldn't believe that what he used to have was real. Some nights y/n would lie in his arms, and he would pinch his own arm after making sure she was asleep. 'I'm dreaming, or she's a figment of my imagination,' he always thought. 

He would watch her, trying to be sure of her presence in his arms. 

Now there was none of the intoxications of happiness that he had only two months ago.

Aemond knew she was right. She had every right to ignore him.

But he wanted her to be angry with him and then ignore him. They never fought except the day she found out about Alys. And the day he went to their chambers drunk. 

It never even came up. Yes, y/n ignored him. But at the same time, when she told him about his duties, she used such a tone of voice that Aemond felt dizzy.

If he didn't clench his fingers into fists and squeeze his fists until his knuckles turned white, he would bend her on a table right then and there. 

"The queen is waiting for you in her chambers," she would say, and her tone would be enough to give Aemond an erection.

Aemond's patience was wearing thin as she ignored him while at the same time ordering him around in her sweet voice.

He wanted to shake his head from side to side to distract his thoughts, but he didn't.

He finally managed to take his mind off y/n's body, her curves and breasts, her messy hair, and her cheeks flushed whenever he kissed that spot on her neck.

There was something else he had to focus his attention on with all his might. His beautiful wife, his beloved y/n, had started some rumors behind his back. 

He had first heard the rumor from his mother. It was simple and harmless. It was about y/n would not carry a second child to Aemond. The queen was furious, of course, but it didn't affect Aemond in the slightest. At least he believed it was her right to spread these rumors. 

But a few days later, the rumors came to him in other forms. They snowballed over a week, and the shape they finally took was the last straw for Aemond. 

The rumors were simply about y/n choosing Aegon over him.

But the way people embellished that simple sentence was very different.

But even if the sentence had come to him straightforwardly without any other implication, it would still have angered him.

For the last few weeks, hearing Aegon's name was enough to push him to the limit of his patience.

Aegon had never lifted a finger in his childhood. Nor in all his life up to that day.

Aemond was the only one who had worked through all the hardships to make his name worthwhile. 

And it had worked, but Aegon would be king only because he was born before him.

His brother, who only cared about sticking his cock in every hole he could find, would one day be king.

He had claimed his dragon by his own labor, spending hours in the library for years, always wanting to learn more.

But other than the title of prince, he had nothing of his own.

xxx

Aemond entered their chambers and found his wife at the table, arranging her jewelry. 

He took slow steps toward y/n as he removed the leather gloves from his hand, one finger at a time. "How was your day?" he asked. And put the leather gloves next to the jewelry.

y/n spoke without lifting her head. "I've been working on these for a few hours. Other than that, it was a quiet day." she carefully placed the ruby necklace in the box. 

"How was yours?" 

"It started well. Maelor and I played a little. Well, if holding him on my lap counts as playing." 

y/n took the earrings out of her ears. "He'll grow up. Then you can play all the games you want." 

Aemond nodded. 

He felt angry at y/n, but not for the rumors she was spreading. 

He was angry with her because she was sitting across from him in the thinnest nightgown in her closet, and he wasn't even touching her with his pinky finger. "What did the maesters say about whether we could fulfill our duties as husband and wife?" once again, he was overcome with lust. 

The rumors that had brought him to the room were not even in the back of his mind right now. 

A couple of weeks ago, in a fit of anger, Aemond said he would bed with her, but they never did. And then the doctors told them to wait a while. 

y/n finished at the table and stood up calmly. "Are you asking if I can have sex with you, Aemond?" 

Aemond's lips formed a thin line. A few more sentences with that attitude, and he was going to cream his pants. "I mean, you know, you gave birth. And I thought you might still be sensitive to something like that." 

y/n walked over to her side of the bed. "I'm not bedding with you because the maesters told me to, Aemond." 

She took off the robe over her nightgown. "I'm not bedding with you because I don't want to." 

Aemond sighed at her nipples, clearly visible under the nightgown. 

She picked up the lavender oil from the table beside the bed. She pulled up the skirt of her dress just enough to allow it to reach her leg and began to apply the oil carefully. 

"I-" y/n interrupted him and smiled. "The oil you use is nice too, but I prefer this one." Aemond looked at her, his eye wide. "I-" he cleared his throat. "I should go." As soon as he finished his sentence, he headed for the door.

"As you wish, dear husband."

Aemond's steps stopped instantly. 

Dear husband

Those two words fell so softly from her lips that he decided not to leave the room. There was nowhere more important for him to be than next to his wife.

He moved to his side of the bed, and y/n watched him, wondering what he was doing.

He took off his leather coat and placed it on the chair. 

"May you call the maid? I'm going to take a bath."

y/n nodded and took the robe, and put it back on. 

After telling the guard at the door to call the maid, she walked towards Aemond.

He looked sad. It was as if whatever had been on his mind for days had aged him a few years.  

She had tried not to care. She was already succeeding in the past few days. But it didn't make sense to her that Aemond should look so vulnerable. 

She wanted to ask how he was, but the words caught in her throat. She watched him as she took off her robe again, not wanting to miss a move.

Aemond's hand trembled as he unbuttoned his first button. y/n continued to watch him in amazement. 

When Aemond switched to the second button, he lingered on it for a long time. 

His hands weren't shaking enough to prevent him from undoing the button, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.  

y/n couldn't stand the sight before her any longer. How could someone's head be so disorganized that they couldn't unbutton their buttons?

y/n grabbed his hand to stop him and started to unbutton him herself. 

Aemond watched her expression without saying anything. He was surprised, but at the same time, he was trying to enjoy their closeness.

Her fingertips first touched the skin on his chest. Aemond's heart sped up, and his breaths became more frequent.

He was frightened that she might feel or even see his chest rising and falling faster than usual. He didn't want her to know she had such a hold on him.

Aemond put his hand behind his back and squeezed as she unbuttoned the buttons above his navel.  

After she undid all the buttons, she ran her fingers over his belly. 

She had always been fascinated by the fair skin that all the Targaryen had. 

She stroked his muscles with her fingertips and felt his breathing quicken. 

She admired his skin, smoother than her own, and a few scattered freckles that she could find where they were with her eyes closed. 

"y/n..." he said. And he gently held her arm, exposed by her nightgown. He stroked her arm with his thumb. The moment he said "y/n-" again, there was a knock on the door. 

They both moved quickly away from each other. 

y/n cleared her throat and said, "come in." 

The maid came and bowed at the prince and his wife, then went to the bathroom.

Aemond fiddled with his shirt sleeve to avoid eye contact as y/n let her eyes roam the room. 

As the maid came out of the bathroom, Aemond quickly entered it.

"You can go. Tidy the bathroom tomorrow." 

"Okay, my lady," she said and left the room. 

y/n lay on her bed and waited for Aemond to finish.

She could hear the sound of water from the bathroom. 

y/n closed her eyes, feeling the comfort of the bed, and reached out her hand toward where Aemond always slept. She ran her hand along the bedspread, trying to imagine his warmth.

They used to sleep cuddled together. Their legs would get so entangled that y/n couldn't get out of bed without waking him up.

Aemond's arm would ache from y/n resting her head on it all night, but he wouldn't dare move a finger, let alone his arm.

When y/n was pregnant, he was careful not to squeeze her too tightly, but he always slept with his hand on her stomach.

That was why y/n was surprised when she found out she had been cheated on and cried for days.

Although he was not very close to her in public and during the day, he kept her as close as possible at night. It was as if the depressed, dissatisfied Aemond had gone, and someone else had replaced him. 

y/n thought he loved her. She thought it was just that the way he showed his love was unorthodox. 

But he had no love left to share with her because he had someone else to share it with. 

y/n's eyes were about to fill again with the heaviness in her chest. She tried to calm herself by telling herself everything would be all right, as Aegon had always told her.

When he said it, it was believable. But it wasn't as effective when y/n said it to herself.

He would be afraid to hold her in his arms. He would put his hand on her shoulder and arm to comfort her. 

She closed her eyes tightly when she thought of Aegon. How would she get out of this dilemma?

There was no more water sound coming from the bath. Aemond usually kept his baths long. This time he came out faster than she expected.

He opened the bathroom door quickly. As it opened, y/n's nose filled with Aemond's scent. She couldn't get enough of the smell she hadn't inhaled in weeks. She tried to take deep breaths. His scent both comforted her as it reminded her of the two years they had spent together and made her feel even sadder as it reminded her of his betrayal.

When he saw y/n lying, he closed the door quietly, thinking she must be asleep. Then he took a blanket from one of the armchairs and draped it over y/n.

She opened her eyes as she felt the weight of the blanket. "I wasn't sleeping," she said. But her voice sounded sleepy.

"I thought you were." 

He took the blanket back, folded it casually, and put it back on the armchair.

Since he had dressed in the bathroom, he went straight to bed. But just like y/n, he didn't remove the bedclothes and sat directly on the bed, his back against the headboard.

He put his wet hair behind the headboard so his clothes wouldn't get wet. 

He leaned his head back and closed his eye.

"Aemond, are you okay?" 

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know if I'm okay or not."

y/n realized he sounded hurt. "You can tell me." 

Aemond felt his chest tighten. "How can you still be so nice to me?" 

y/n didn't know how to react at first. "I just wanted to know what upset you." 

"It's Maelor." 

y/n turned to him curiously. How could it be Maelor? How could it be that her beloved son was the problem that confused him?

"What if his dragon egg never hatches?"

y/n also found it strange that his egg hadn't hatched yet, but she didn't think about it much. She didn't know when it was supposed to hatch.

"I'm sure it will hatch." 

"No, you don't know," he said, "you don't know anything." 

She ignored the implication in his voice. "After all, a dragon will come out of it. I'm sure it takes time." 

Aemond stroked around his eye patch. "It's been three weeks. It should have cracked by now." 

"Aemond-"

"If he doesn't have a dragon, the other children in the castle will try to humiliate and harm him." 

"You never know. Maelor can do many successful things without having a dragon. He can fill his life with meaningful things. He can get a good education and can be a good swordsman."

Aemond chuckled. "Trust me. It's all meaningless."  

"But-"

Aemond interrupted her. He didn't want to miss this opportunity, now that he had the confidence to tell her things he had never told anyone. "You talk about how lonely you are in the castle. I was lonely too, y/n. I had no one. I still have no one." 

y/n immediately knew what he was talking about. It was no secret what a lonely childhood Prince Aemond had had, and it was the talk of the kingdom. 

"His father is not like your father. I'm sure you will protect him." 

"If anyone dares to touch him, I will destroy them."

"I would expect nothing less from you."

y/n couldn't understand why she was trying to comfort him. She thought it was because he seemed vulnerable. She suddenly felt she had forgotten everything in her head and had to protect him.

"The most important thing for a Targaryen is that your egg hatch for you," he said. He was obviously still stuck on that. 

"If his egg does not hatch, he will claim a dragon in the future, Aemond. There is a solution."

He shook his head. "No, you don't understand. I was alone all my childhood because my egg didn't hatch for me. A Targaryen without a dragon is the most humiliating thing to be."  

Aemond thought of how he had waited by his egg for days. His mother had always told him it would hatch, but it never had. He would sit by his egg for hours. At night when he slept, he would put it close to him. He thought his Valyrian blood would eventually hatch it, as he had read in the books. That was why he always kept it very close. But nothing ever happened. To him, the egg was nothing more than a worthless stone.

"But then you claimed Vhagar, Aemond, the greatest dragon alive." 

He looked at her face briefly. 

He could never despise the freedom and power that Vhagar had brought him. But she could not give him back his childhood.

"Throughout my childhood, I had to watch their interaction with their dragons in the Dragonpit. They made fun of me all the time. Jace, Luke..." his face hardened at the mention of Luke. "Your dear Aegon." 

y/n lowered her gaze to her lap. 

"They took everything from me, y/n, the little courage I had as a child, my self-confidence," he said. "My eye. They took my everything. And he still continues to steal everything I have."

y/n knew who he was talking about and what he meant by stealing. 

Aegon had finally shattered the only structure he could call family. He was trying to steal y/n's love from him. And he did not doubt that Maelor would love Aegon more than he loved him. 

"No one steals from you anymore, Aemond. You wanted it to be like this. Everything you are suffering is a result of what you've done."

Aemond turned on her angrily. "And here's the other thing. What do you get out of people thinking I have a small cock and that I'm a fool who can't even get laid?" 

"Nothing. But I feel happier. You don't get what you deserve in this fucking castle. At least you can understand a little bit of how I feel. The way people look at you with pity, the way everyone talks about you in the corridors..." 

"You know they are lies."

"Do you think so? I don't remember saying anything about how amazing the size of your cock is or how well you fuck."

Aemond straightened his posture. His hair was starting to touch his shoulders and arms. His wet hair had already begun to leave wet spots. 

He was surprised by her foul language, but he also liked it. 

"You're not going to get anything by acting angry." 

"But I'm not acting angry, Aemond! I am angry." 

"I would never leave you for someone else to take. Tell that fucking bastard in one of your secret meetings that if he becomes king one day, it won't affect me. If he wakes up one day and becomes one of the seven gods, he can't take you away from me. You both better get that through your heads." 

y/n's eyes filled with tears of anger. "Aemond, you've already ruined my life once! What's wrong with you?" 

Aemond got up from the bed. "You are mine. Maelor is mine. I know you would never sleep with Aegon, y/n. You're not that brave." 

"Bravery? Is it brave to sleep with someone else when you're married, Aemond? You haven't even apologized, and now you're standing here telling me this!" 

Aemond took a back step as if to free himself from that conversation.

"Are you upset that your whore got pregnant by someone else? Is that why you're like this? Is Maelor's egg your excuse?" 

"You think I am upset because of her? You think she's important to me?" 

"Then why did you follow her around for years?"

Aemond paused. 

"Wasn't I enough for you?" she asked, averting her eyes. 

"y/n..." Aemond said, taking a step toward her. 

"I know I don't know much. But I thought you liked the nights we spent together."  

"y/n..." he said again. "You're more than enough." 

"Then why? I don't understand..." y/n said, her voice very low. She wasn't sure if Aemond had heard her, but from the sad look on his face, he had heard her.

"I'm sorry. For making you feel inadequate." 

y/n shook her head. "It doesn't matter how you made me feel, Aemond. You ruined everything. We..." she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. "We could have been a happy family. I could have given you the love of a family." 

Aemond's vision blurred. 

"At least tell me why."

The words came to the tip of his tongue, but he held himself back. "I can't." 

This time y/n could not hold back her tears. "See you tomorrow, Aemond," she said. Then she left the room, knowing where to go.

next chapter

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[sunfyresrider]

Love & Ruin

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: drinking, cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, idk if this is dark!aeg or yandere but he's not okay, mentally. Word count: 7k Note: Part one of two:) I really hope yall like this. Reader is Helaena's age. I did not proofread; fuck it we ball. Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @annikin-im-panicin @its-actually-minicika (Hi girls ily)

‘It wasn’t meant to happen like this’

Aegon paced back and forth inside the throne room waiting for the return of his brother. The storm that had rolled in was heavy, the sounds of hail beating the glass window echoed throughout the room. The sudden crash of thunder and jolt of lighting sent a shiver down his spine. The candles that lined the room were not enough to fully bring light into the dark. It was almost poetic; the storm echoed his inner feelings perfectly. 

‘How could you do this?!’

‘Have you gone mad!’ 

‘Think about your wife! Your children! How will this look?’ 

‘She won’t show us mercy now, you fool!” 

It had been hours since he sent Aemond to Storm’s End. The mission couldn’t have been that hard, go ask for a Baratheon bitches' hand and bring back a person. His mother had taken to chewing at her nail beds until they bled. His grandsire sat with his face in his hands contemplating how to fix this. 

Once a crown was placed on his head Aegon found a new sense of confidence, one that could no longer be stolen away by those around him. His family could no longer control him nor tell him what to do. He was king and kings did not ask permission. They took what they wanted. From now on his word was law and this mission was the only reason he didn’t flee to Yiti. It was promised to him then taken away and he fully intended to take it back. And what he wanted was traveling to beg for Lord Borros to side with the pretender…

Five hours, it took five hours for the roar of Vhagar to be heard over the red keep. The storm had subsided to a light rain, yet the sky remained dark. Finally, he rose from his seat, his heart pounding in anticipation. A giddy smile creeping onto his face that his mother couldn’t help but scoff at. It didn’t matter anymore; he had won his first prize in war. 

Murmurs from the council filled the once silent room but Aegon could only hear the pounding of his heart. His eyes locked onto the door waiting for them to walk inside. His imagination swirled with possibilities and all of them were better than his current situation. Alicent and Otto stared from a distance, both realizing their potential mistake. They let the dog off the leash and now they were about to suffer the consequences. 

Guards rusting outside the doors caught everyone’s attention. The room went eerily silent as the doors began to creak open. Aegon nearly jumped out of his skin as he walked forward to meet who was coming. 

Aemond, drenched in water, stalked inside slowly. His face was a mix of regret and… fear? The world stopped and as if on cue a flash of lightning followed by a crack of thunder that lit up the room. Aegon’s heart ceased to beat, his smile melted into nothing, and his feet threatened to give out on him. His mother’s eyes widened, and her hands fled to cover her mouth. Aemond struggled to lift the wet, bruised and unconscious body in his arms. He let out a shaky breath, 

“There’s been an… incident.” 

From a young age Aegon knew he had no love from anyone besides himself. His mother simply tolerated him, his father forgot him, and everyone else loathed him. The first-born son who should inherit everything but instead was given nothing. The son born to be loved but destined to be hated. 

It was no surprise he was the way he was. He drank more than he should, fucked more than allowed and was cruel to those who may or may not deserve it. No one was born evil; they were raised to be that way. At least, that’s what he told himself to feel better at night. 

And he wasn’t truly evil in the eyes of most anyway, just terribly pathetic. A lonely fourteen-year-old who may never feel loved. A boy who would never fully feel the warmth of someone’s gentle touch, the excitement when they approached, the soft reassurances and sweet nothings they would whisper, the true connection when intimate with someone you loved. It was all out of his reach… Until you started coming around. 

For the better half of your life your mother, Rhaenyra kept you decently hidden from most of the court. It was not at all because you shared your features with Harwin Strong but because you were simply too precious for the world. You were her only daughter, her first born and you were too beautiful for the men in this city to gawk at and prey upon. 

She would protect you from everything her father couldn’t protect her from. So, yes you didn’t get out much and when you did Harwin, and your brothers followed close suit. Rhaenyra did become more lenient as you grew. It was better to let you live as you wanted under watchful eyes than be locked away because of her own fears. At least that’s what Harwin told to calm her. 

You were strictly prohibited from a handful of things though. Absolutely no leaving the keep unless it was daytime, and a handful of guards were there to follow. Absolutely no wandering around after dark, anywhere, no matter the circumstance. And finally, absolutely no involvement with your uncle Aegon. 

Sadly, you were born with the same rebellion in your heart as she once had. The very first thing that needed to be handled was Aegon. It excited you to no end thinking about why he was banned from speaking to you. You needed to know why it was prohibited and see if it was as exciting as you thought.

Dusk had fallen on the keep and the light from the windows was beginning to fill the corridors orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. You were supposed to return to your chambers immediately after your septa lesson but had time to stroll. Right now, your brothers would still be in the dragon pit, your mother in a council meeting and Ser Harwin getting ready for his nightly patrol. It was price time to make an escape and seek him out. 

You found him in a compromising position. He was curled up in the corner of the library and reeked of wine. There was a subtle shine on his face from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you be banned from talking to him? When asleep he looked like a poor Angel. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Uncle?” You whispered into his ears. 

“Aegon?” Your soft voice began to rouse him from his slumber. His eyebrows began to furrow slightly. “Aegon, wake up.” He jumped away and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the room and you before settling with the most confused expression plastered on his face. 

“N-no Aemond isn’t here. I-it’s just me.” Aegon paused in his drunken haze. Who was me? You were too pretty to be a maid, your clothes too fancy. His eyes danced up and down your form as his brain slowly started putting it together. “Your niece. It’s __ ” 

His hands released you slowly as his mouth slightly hung agape. Why in the seven hells was Rhaenyra hiding a creature as beautiful as you? Yeah, he had seen you in passing maybe once or twice but never really got a good look. 

You had the perfect plush lips coated in a shade of pink. Your eyes were large and glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell elegantly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your neckline you had a nice chest too, for your age.  

He felt two small warm hands cup his cheeks, pulling him from his thoughts. Aegon stared at you confused, his lips puffed out. “Oh Aeg, are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Oh gods, you were too precious. He was too dumbfounded to say anything, maybe too drunk still to fully grasp the situation.

You weren’t wrong though; someone did hurt him. His mother barged into his room and slapped him clean across the face without warning. Ranting and raving about his behavior and how he was disappointing the family. He nodded slowly, not exactly sure how he was supposed to react. You let out a deep sigh and your lips formed a frown. 

You knew exactly what to do. Your mother had done the same every time you or your siblings got hurt. You rubbed the tear stains on his cheeks and kissed his forehead gently. A soft smile appearing on your lips, “don’t cry please or you’ll make me cry. You’re a prince and a good son. You ride the prettiest dragon in the world and so many people think you’re amazing. You have so much to offer and they’re just too blind to see it. So many love you, I love you and-”

You were cut off by the sounds of your mother calling out your name searching for you. You let go of his cheeks and quickly embraced him. “You’re perfect, okay? Don’t cry.” You jumped to your feet and brushed your skirts down. “I gotta go… feel better!” Aegon sat and watched your little feet scurry off into the direction of your mother's voice.

His eyes were wide, and he was frozen in the same spot. Seven hells, seriously where the fuck have you been his entire life? There was a pool of emotions swirling inside him he couldn’t fully grasp. Your little hands and soft voice saying the sweetest things to a complete stranger. The way your lips softly pressed against his forehead radiating warmth throughout his body. You were so innocent, so blindly loving… You were his. 

It was an odd thing for him to think. He never really desired someone for just himself, Aegon didn’t really care until this point. But right now all he could think about was stealing you away and keeping you tucked away in his room forever. Corrupting you slowly but only for him, no one else could see it or experience it. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible. 

He forced himself into wobbly legs and sucked in a deep breath. It was time to talk to his parents. 

The plan failed so horrifically he could swear the gods were pissing on him. He went and asked for your hand, said he was ready to be a good son, bring the families together finally. Aegon was shot down so fucking fast he got whiplash. His mother was okay with it, seeing potential benefits. But his father was adamantly against it as was his bitch sister. 

“You think I’ll let him drag my daughter into his depravity? Not until I am cold in my grave.” 

That could definitely be arranged. It made complete sense; he was the eldest son, and you were the eldest daughter. You were heir and he was the second son of the king. There was absolutely no reason for rejection besides their own selfish, impossible to understand reasons. 

It didn’t really fucking matter. When he wanted something, he got it one way or another. Thus, he came up with a plan to steal you away and woo his way into your heart permanently. 

Aegon had stayed painstakingly sober the entire day and avoided any of the whores he usually wasted his time with. He waited til long after the sun had set to sneak through Maegor’s hidden tunnels to try and find your chambers. It was a hassle, he stumbled into Jacaerys’s room once and immediately backed out. Then he walked past what he assumed was a hidden entrance to your mother’s room only to hear lewd noises coming from inside.

He didn’t realize it at the time but that was when Joffrey was made. 

The deeper he walked the more aggravated he became. Why was it so fucking hard to find you? It took him several failed attempts until he finally lightly pushed open the door to a room seeping with light. He peered in and saw you sleeping soundly on the bed, clutching a stuffed bear tightly to your chest. How cute, you were scared of the dark and slept with a bear, he thought to himself. 

Aegon wasted no time welcoming himself inside and waltzing over to the side of the bed where you slept. He brushed a loc of your hair out of your face and admired how beautiful you looked, even while asleep. If he was totally honest, he could stay here and watch you sleep all night, but he had things he needed to do. 

“Hey princess,” he spoke softly as he nudged your shoulder. Unlike him, you were an extremely light sleeper. You opened your eyes and they immediately shot wide open. You attempted to let out a scream at the intruder, but he swiftly shoved his hand onto your mouth. “Shhh! Shhh, it’s just me. It’s Aegon.” 

Your face relaxed and you blinked your eyes a few times trying to decipher if this was a dream or reality. “Aegon,” you murmured into the palm of his hand. “I’ll let go if you swear to be quiet. Promise?” You nodded your head and he slowly pulled back; a wide grin plastered over his face showcasing his perfectly even teeth. “Good morning, princess.”

You rubbed your eyes and peered over to the window. “It’s still nighttime…” you drawled into a yawn. “I know, it’s the only time you’re alone.” You sat up on your bed, “I’m sorry it’s just-” your words were stuck in your throat as he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “No need to be sorry, princess. I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

“Y-yeah.” Aegon stood up off the floor and handed you a cloak he had balled up in his lap. You raised an eyebrow at him and pulled it towards. “You don’t ever get to leave right? Well, I leave all the time so I thought I could take you into the city for some fun.”  

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But there was an aching sensation at the back of your head. The sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do. The fear of disappointing her was strong and the fear of potential punishment even stronger. “I- I can’t. My mother would be furious.” 

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Besides, you wouldn’t want to make me cry, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” His blue eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. It was manipulative, he knew but it worked every time. “I won’t tell anyone, " you said in a nervous whisper. 

His frown quickly grew into a wide smile, flashing wolf life teeth. Aegon’s eyes had a mischievous glint behind him when he spoke, “good girl, put this on.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach. You blushed and nodded your head in agreement. 

It didn’t take long for Aegon to grab your hand and whisk you far away from where you were meant to be. You clung to his arm as you both scurried through the dark corridors. The farther you went the smell of dust and cow dung intensified as did the conversation of city folk outside the walls. 

The streets of King’s Landing were dirty but so much more alive than you ever thought they could be. It was the hour of the bat and yet the streets were bright with fires lit at every corner. The streets were crammed with people from all walks of life, travelers, merchants, witches, performers, whores, musicians, and knights. It was quite the spectacle for a young girl who had been confined to a castle. 

Aegon was reveling in your excitement and awe, still blissfully unaware of the depravity that shrouded these streets. Your voice carried the joy only of someone as innocent to the world as you could possess. It was fucking magical how you gazed up at him like he was your savior. 

To his surprise, you babbled about more than any girl he’d ever met. It should be annoying, but he was drowning in the presence of your voice and the way your fingers would squeeze his own when the topic turned to something that moved you. You had completely captured him with your accidental charm.   

But as the night went on his original scheme drifted into the back of his like a distant memory. Aegon couldn’t take you where he wanted, you were too good for it. The prying eyes of others would probably send him into a blind rage anyway. It was already beginning to build as random passersby simply looked at you. 

To avoid a possible murder or maiming he whisked you away to a final destination. Aegon told you people here eat, drink and play music here until the dawn rises. There were musicians and poets singing while people danced around them. Men and women were laughing and drowning themselves in what you presumed could only be wine. There were several dragon shaped lanterns that occasionally spewed fire lighting the corner of the world you reside in. 

It was pretty spectacular in the eyes of a girl. But it was also the place where your inevitable downfall began. It started with a glass of ale, not wine, that Aegon offered you. It burned your throat as you swallowed it, whatever you had made him chuckle and use that nickname again. It inspired you to drink more and keep receiving soft praises from your uncle. 

You could feel it flow through your body slowly warming your insides and sending a slight tingly sensation in your limbs. That’s when the music started to sound good enough to dance. You bounced around Aegon in possibly the worst showing of dance moves he’d ever seen. It was cute though, to him at least. 

That’s when you decided to drink more and fully let go of whatever expectations of a princess rested in the back of your mind. One, two, three, you lost count after the first. Aeggy refused to dance but he occasionally twirled you around and let you hang onto his shoulders. 

As time passed on so did any semblance of sobriety you had left. Your words were slurring together, and your movements became sloppy, the ability to stand was nearly completely lost. That’s when Aegon declared it was time to bring you home. At first, you tried to reject the idea and fight back, but your muscles were just as weak as your mind. 

He lifted you and wrapped your legs around his waist so he could carry your little self-home. It was okay, at first being carried by Aegon. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebumps through your body. The low whisper of his voice telling you sweet things echoing in the walls of your mind. Then came a new feeling between your legs when his lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. Every sensation was heightened to a point it had never reached before. 

It was a warm ache between your legs that kept getting worse the longer you were wrapped around him. You were worried, what if the wetness between your legs was your moonblood. How insanely embarrassing would that be if you bled on your uncle? You tried to untangle yourself, but he put two firm hands onto your waist and pulled you back in. 

The sudden friction between your legs caused you to yelp, a quiet yelp that did not go unnoticed. He paused his steps, glancing at you avoiding his eyes then back at the street to the keep. His lips slowly curled into a smirk only he could wear so well. Aegon didn’t say anything the entire way back home, though a million things were racing through his mind. 

The walk home was agonizing, every once in a while, he would move in a way that sent electricity from your core to the depths of your stomach. You didn’t even notice the tiny few whimpers that came from your throat, but he did. Oh, Aegon was noticing it all, every sound, every movement, every look, the warm feeling between your legs that was growing damp across his waist, and it was driving him mad. 

He should have been a good little prince and placed you on your bed and left but he had never been a good prince. Aegon wanted to know how far he could take it before you melted beneath him. Obviously, like a good uncle he helped you undress into your night clothes since you were too drunk to do anything. 

“Come on, princess. Time to lay down.” You begrudgingly threw yourself onto the bed and rolled onto your back. You couldn’t sleep, your undergarments were uncomfortably wet, and the ache continued to get worse. You obviously couldn’t tell him any of this, so you laid there, suffering. 

Unexpectedly Aegon climbed into bed he was on top of you, his knee moved to press in between your legs and your eyes widened from their half-lidded state. “Are you okay, niece? You look… frustrated.”  His face was plastered in fake concern, though you couldn’t tell. You clenched your legs together trying to prevent him from moving. “I-I’m fine,” Aegon moved his knee to rub against your core just once, your legs unconsciously tightened around him. “U-uncle,” you stuttered out in a near whimper. 

“If there’s something wrong, I can help you…” He moved his knee into your core, and you bit down onto your lip trying to stifle the sound threatening to come out. Aegon, though a good actor could not hide the glint behind his eyes. He leaned into you, pulling your lip out from your teeth with thumb. “I can show you what helps me feel better.” 

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. The taste of sweet mead filling your mouth. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you. 

He slipped his tongue down your throat and entangled it with your own. The feeling of need was becoming too much so you moved your hips, finally. A soft moan forced itself out of your throat as you desperately tried to move against, aching for something you didn’t understand. A few tears slipped from your eye wetting his cheek. 

Aegon chuckled into your mouth before pulling back, you whined at the loss of both his lips and his knee. The throbbing feeling between your legs became increasingly worse every second he wasn’t there. “It aches, doesn’t it?” Your face flushed red as your eyes bore into him, the true image of innocence laid out beneath him. 

His hand traveled from your cheek to the hem of your dress bunched up at the ends of your thighs. Aegon slipped his hand underneath the fabric and hovered over your cunt. You grabbed his hand and stopped his movements, “N-no we can’t.” He cocked an eyebrow, “why not? You hurt and I’m the only one who can fix it.” Your grip on his hand slowly relented, ���but i-it’s inappropriate.” 

Aegon forced his hand forward so he could cup your cunt. It was completely soaked and so needy for release, how could he stop? “No, it’s not. I’m your uncle and it’s my job to take care of my sweet niece.” You bit your lip in contemplation, the feeling of his palm on your clit made you want to cry. It was too much, the feeling in your core was too much.  “Please, Aeg.” 

He crushed his lips into yours forcing all the breath out of your lungs. His fingers slid up and down your slit collecting your wetness on his finger. His other hand moved to palm your dress and pinch your nipples beneath your gown. Your moans threatened to echo throughout the keep but he swallowed each one with his lips. 

Aegon forced one finger inside your cunt and immediately you clenched around him. Gods, you were so fucking tight he would have to force in the second. Your back arched as he moved his fingers to hit the spongy spot inside. The feeling of your core tightening was overwhelming, tears began to stream from your face and your nails dug into his shoulder. 

Your hips moved unconsciously into his hand, pleading for release. His thumb moved to rubbed circles around your clit and all thoughts you had were dumbed down. “A-aeg!” You whimpered into his mouth; the coil tightening was overwhelming all of your senses. The sounds of his fingers pulling in and out of your dripping cunt were filling the room. 

“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess.” His movements were faster, harsher and more desperate than before. “P-p-please,” you stuttered out in a loud moan as your legs began to clench around his hand. He growled, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “Cum on my fingers, baby. That’s right, be a good fucking girl for your uncle.” His fingers curled up and pressed deep into the spongy spot inside you. You felt your cunt clench around him, your core tightening harder than before until the coil broke. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your body began to shake and the feeling of ecstasy washed over you. 

You crashed, your legs twitching as he continued to move circles around your sensitive clit. Aegon pulled his fingers out and your body mourned the loss of him. He wiped his hand on his clothes and bent his head down to place kisses all over your face. “You did so good, princess.” He spoke in between the pecks he placed on your face. 

“Aeg… I’m tired.” Your body was limp, and your eyes began to close on their own. “Shh, go to sleep, princess. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, surprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his trousers, and it was leaking out onto your clothes. 

So, he had to change you. Aegon didn’t mind, watching you sleep so peacefully and taking care of his little angel was nice. Especially after what you had given him. He stayed the night, watching you sleep peacefully until the sun rose over the horizon and he scurried into his own room. 

It became a horrible routine between the two of you. Aegon convinced you only he could make you feel that way, so you had to come to him if you wanted it. He would always visit at night, though most times you simply stayed inside. He touched you in places that were meant to be forbidden and you came undone beneath him… repeatedly. 

You enjoyed him for more than that though. Unlike your brothers or other family, he was always there. Always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in his own way. 

Aegon was completely addicted, and it was going to kill him eventually. If you weren’t awake when he came, he would just sit and watch you sleep, occasionally taking his place besides you. If you were awake, he craved your attention and your body… and he always got it. You were so kind and loving towards him, completely unaware of how others viewed him. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was a good man. 

No one had ever said those words to him before. It’s why the addiction started and why it had no chance of ending soon.  When he was upset you kissed him and whispered words of encouragement. You went out of your way to make him feel happy and deserving of the life he had. And it’s why, for a short time, his behavior started to improve drastically. 

It shocked essentially everyone around him, especially his mother. For a moment she was almost proud, maybe her speeches finally got to him, and he was taking being a king seriously. That was before Aegon told her he was only behaving this way so he could prove to Rhaenyra, he deserved you. The situation caused a whole different type of stress for Alicent. 

 Things were looking up anyway. Especially since your mother had officially started letting you out on your own. You were now a teenager and had to learn some type of independence. The dragon pit was your favorite place even though your mount was a lazy bum. 

Plus, you got to spend lots of time in the pit with your uncle and you got to watch him train with the other boys. Of course, a few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship. 

Aegon, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin your innocence completely. It was hard to explain how exactly he felt. It was like he needed you to breathe or eat or do anything. It was bordering on a very unhealthy obsession combined with genuine fondness. 

It was new and it was perfect. He was no longer lost in this world with nothing to live for. 

 Until the day you abandoned him for Dragonstone. He cried, a pathetic and desperate display to his mother asking for her to keep you here. He pleaded for them to just allow you to be wed, he begged to let you stay as her ward. He made promises he probably couldn’t keep but tried, nonetheless.

All he got was sympathy, it was out of her hands completely. The king and his whore sister made the decision to forbid a marriage. They made the decision to let you be sent away to that desolate, rain filled, and droll island. To make it worse the gods decided to spite him and have him betrothed to his own sister. 

He almost immediately got worse the second you boarded the ship. Aegon fell right back into his old habits of whoring, drinking and being a massive cunt. The shift was bound to happen so no one was surprised but it was becoming increasingly impossible to keep him under control. Everyone else fell back into their old habits of beating and berating him any chance they got…

Aegon only ever really felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He could feel, touch, hear and smell you again in his dreams. For a few hours every night he was back in your room making stupid jests only you would laugh at. It was like heaven every time he closed his eyes… Then he woke up. 

To ease his suffering, he fisted his cock while smelling the clothes you had left behind pretending it was you. If not that he would get drunk and imagine all the ways he could kill your mother and his so, he could steal you away. One day, he would take something from them that they truly loved so they could understand exactly how he felt. For now, he tormented Aemond and did everything in his power to piss his parents off. 

Luckily for Aegon and those close to him, Laena Velaryon died in childbirth and his chance to be reunited came sooner than expected. The ride on Sunfyre was one of the best he’s had in ages. It was as if he could sense who they were seeing and was absorbing his rider's excitement. It seems important to mention Sunfyre has a fondness of your she-dragon who he may or may not have tried to breed on several occasions. 

The funeral was fucking boring. He didn’t know anyone there and didn’t really care either. Aegon spent most of the time ignoring the speech and scanning the crowd for your little form. He didn’t find you, so he fled into a corner with his wine and brother close on his tail.

Your mother was stalking about staring at Daemon, Helaena was mumbling riddles to herself while playing with a bug, the bastards were comforting the Velaryons, and Aemond was on his left half asleep. Where in the seven hells was his little princess? As the sky began to cover itself in a shade of gray, he spotted you. 

For a sliver of a second he was overjoyed, he dropped his wine and stood up straight preparing to walk over. The crowd began to dissipate and on your right was a young Velaryon boy with his arm wrapped around you showing off whatever was in his hands. His eye twitched and his firsts unconsciously bawled up til his knuckles turned white. Aemond peeked over and scoffed, “it’s a waste of time.”  

“I’m gonna kill him.” Aemond rolled his eyes and slumped back into the wall. His obsession with the bastard was beyond him but everything his brother does is beyond him. Aegon spent the rest of his funeral staring daggers into the boys next to you. He was making you laugh and touching you far too much for his liking. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Aegon couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside his stomach, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night. 

It is rumored by the maesters later that night King Aegon took his first life by feeding an unsuspecting boy to his dragon. Others claim the boy simply drowned in the high tide that night and was washed away to sea. The body was never found so no one truly knows… Aemond, personally and wholeheartedly believed his brother pushed the boy into the water and let him sink. Driftmark no matter how you looked at it was a terrible night for all involved. 

The hour of the bat, a time of night you learned to love dearly was now a time of loneliness. Dragonstone was incredibly terrible especially since your uncle was nowhere in those walls. You were severely depressed to say the very least. You knew he was coming today and wanted to seek him out but failed to find him. 

It didn’t stop you from sneaking out at night in a very desperate search for him. It took around twenty minutes for you to weasel your way through Driftmark to his supposed chambers. You ran full force into Aemond on the way which made you both fall to the ground. He was going to try and claim that damned dragon you saw him watching her all day and you were going to reunite with your uncle-lover. Both of you would be in the deepest shit known to man if anyone found out. 

So, a silent pact was made to tell no one where either was going. You knew it was a real deal because he helped you off the floor and nodded his head in the direction of the room you were trying to find. ‘Good luck,’ you whispered quietly as you both scurried off in opposite directions. 

Much to your dismay he was passed out drunk. You had to literally shake him awake. “Aeg… Aegon!” You climbed on top of him and shook his shoulders. He moaned, groaned, tried to push you away but you were determined. “Wake up! We don’t have all night.” You swore you saw his ears perk up like a dog. His eyes opened and he shot up in bed nearly knocking you off. 

“You!” He grabbed ahold of your face, squishing your cheeks in his hands. “Yes, it’s me! Where the hell have you been all day?” Aegon looked offended and almost betrayed, “where have I been? Watching you swoon over some Velaryon cunt.” You scoffed, “watching me? I looked for you all day! I had to give up and talk to a cousin I barely knew.” 

His eyebrows furrowed together, “if you barely knew him then why was he all over you?” You grabbed his face, “if you paid any attention, I was trying to escape him the entire time.” Hm, he could have been blinded by jealousy and didn’t notice you politely backing away and avoiding the kid’s eyes completely. He thought you were acting shy and coy, but this made sense. 

“You still love me?” He did this more often while drunk. If he ever felt insecure his blue eyes would turn pale and start to water. His lips puffed out slightly and he bore into your soul begging for consolation. You knew the quickest way to make his fears go away. 

You pressed a kiss on his lips, trying to drink away all of his fears. Aegon pulled your face as close as possible, sucking all the air from your lungs. Your lips danced around each other passionately trying to make up for the time apart. 

“I still love you, Aeggy.” You murmured into his lips; a faint grin formed on his mouth. With his eyes half lidded he whispered, “prove it to everyone then.” You chuckled softly; a soft look of confusion plastered on your features. “How do we do that?” His hands slipped down to your waist, then to your thighs rubbing them slightly. “Give me all of you before they take you away.”

There was a deafening pause in both of your movements. The amount of trouble you would both get into would be life altering. Losing your maidenhood to someone who you weren’t wed to was a sin, a crime even. “So, you don’t really love me. You don’t even trust me enough with yourself.” 

It felt like a sword was plunged through your heart. Of course, you loved him. Of course, you wanted to give him everything. “T-that’s not-” he released his hold on your thighs and ripped his face away from yours. “Get out.” You grabbed his hands and tried to pull them back to you, “Aegon please this isn’t-” His eyes turned dark, his hands were ripped out of your grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You used me and now you’re discarding me just like everyone else.” 

Tears began to prickle at the corner of your eyes. You never ever used him; you loved him with all your heart. There was never another person who made you feel the same way he did. “Please, I love you,” your lips trembled while you spoke. “I don’t love you.” 

You shook your head no, no, no, no, no, your entire world came crashing down at once. The sword in your heart ripped it in half. Your breath quickened and your arms began to shake. The tears that threatened to fall came pouring out of your eyes. “Please- pleas- I love you- please- you can have it- anything you want please don’t leave me.” Your cries were near incoherent. 

He was evil, this was the absolute proof of it. Aegon knew he was lying to have you; he knew exactly what hold he had over you and did it anyway. You just couldn’t understand, if he took your maidenhead, you could be together forever. He wasn’t just doing this for himself, it was for both of your sakes. It was blisteringly obvious he would never stop loving you.

“Shh, don’t cry, I’m sorry.” He pulled you into his chest and combed his slender fingers through your hair. “We’re going to be together forever, okay? I'm never leaving you.” He lifted your chin up so you were looking at him. Even when you cried you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. “Let me show you how much I love you.” You nodded your head desperately. 

It took minutes before you were laid out flat on the bed. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and buried his tongue inside your core. It was new and the pleasure was radiating throughout your body faster than before. Aegon swirled his tongue in circle around your clit as he brutally fucked you with his fingers.

Your hips bucked up to meet his face and he growled a response. The vibrations sent waves of heat through your veins. Your thighs clenched around his head as your orgasm began to wash over you, far quicker than ever before.  You cried out at the feeling of the coil coming undone in your stomach. You could feel his lips form into a smile, he placed kisses onto your sensitive clit causing you to whimper. It wasn’t over, he had just started. 

Aegon pulled away and you whined at the loss of his heat on top of you. Then you heard the sound of his trousers being pulled off, you looked away out of politeness. “Don’t be shy, baby. It’s all yours.” You pulled your head off of the pillow and your eyes widened. Aegon was thick, incredibly thick and you couldn’t imagine how that was going to fit inside you. 

His tip was a bruising pink, and you could see his seed already beginning to leak out. It looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. He climbed on top of you without a moment's notice and rubbed himself against your dripping slit. “Aegon,” you whined as he teased your entrance. 

Aegon leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He prodded your entrance, “just be a good girl for me. It will only hurt for a second, I promise.” You tried to open your mouth to reply but an incredibly loud scream escaped your lips as he slowly began forcing himself inside. “Gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned under his breath. 

The sensation of being filled to the brim made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Aegon moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you. You moaned incoherently as his tip pushed into that spot inside of you. What started out as pain was quickly turning into pleasure. 

You wanted him deeper inside you, you needed him to fill you completely. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pulled him into you. He moaned as your cunt swallowed his length entirely. “So needy for my cock, princess.” You whimpered breathlessly underneath him, “please Aegon.” He moved his hand to cup your face, so you were staring at him. Your eyes were blown out in desire and your face was flushed a deep shade of red. 

It was as if Aphrodite was underneath him begging for him to fuck her. “That’s a good girl begging for me.” His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Yes! uncle, please. Please!” You stuttered between moans and whimpers. 

His lips crashed into yours stifling your moans as he forced himself deeper inside you at a bruising pace. His cock pounded against your cervix and not even his lips could fully swallow your moans. You wrapped your arms around his neck and dug your fingers into his shoulders. “Fuck baby, you’re so perfect for me.” Aegon’s praise made you whimper for more.

His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. “My good girl,” he moaned into your ear, putting emphasis on ‘my’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him. The friction of his skin rubbing against your clit caused you to start coming undone. 

“Aeg- aegon- please cum for me.” He never expected those words to pour from your mouth like a carefully constructed melody. Aegon dipped his head into the crook of your neck and began to whine as you clenched around him. As your core began to tighten you moaned a symphony, “I love you, I love you, I love you-” 

Aegon picked up his pace, brutally fucking you with every ounce of energy he had. You felt the heat in your core turn into a fire as ecstasy started to wash over you. Your cunt clenching hard trying to drain every ounce of him.

The door slammed open “My Prince! It’s urgent-” Both of your heads shot to the entrance, staring at the mortified king’s guard whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked. 

Silence, the walk to the grand hall of Driftmark was completely silent. The guard behind you refusing to make eye contact with either of you. You could barely walk straight; your body was sore, and wetness was dripping down your legs. 

All you could do right now was pray to the gods he didn’t snitch. Your hair was a mess, sweat was glistening on your faces, your night clothes were a mess, Aegon probably had your juices still on him, your cheeks were flushed a bright red and your lips were bruised… you were done for. 

Although, as you entered the hall you noticed everyone else looked far worse than you. You noticed your brother’s bloody faces first and rushed over to them. Aegon immediately wanted to die the second you left his side. He wasn’t concerned at all; this was meant to be found out about. 

Except, why now of all fucking nights. His brother had been maimed by your bastard brothers and his mother was in a frenzy. All he could do was stare at him in shock, the feeling of guilt washing over him. Aegon should have been there for Aemond, he should have saved him. 

He glanced at you and your brothers were looking at you in disgust. Even when you reached out to comfort them, they pushed you away. Bastards, vile disgusting bastards. 

It only got worse from there. Your mother came rushing in, obviously after fucking her uncle. He wanted to laugh, like mother like daughter. His mother was frantic demanding for justice, Rhaenyra screeching bullshit and you tucking yourself behind everyone. 

Then the question was asked. “Aegon! Where were you?!” He didn’t even get a chance to reply before the king’s guard swooped in to make matters worse. “He was in his room, your grace… with the princess.” His head nodded towards you, and you looked absolutely mortified. 

He should have waited to take it, he should have never made you do anything. Everyone in the room stared at you, just you. It took mere seconds for Rhaenyra to see exactly what had happened, only fueling her fury. Alicent, on the other hand, looked even more upset. The slap she so harshly laid across his face echoed throughout the room, completely silencing it. 

There would be no justice since he had chosen the perfect day to defile the king’s favorite grandchild and his sister’s favorite child. You should hate him; you should want him dead. “Who told you these lies boy?” His father’s voice was filled with venom. “Aegon.” His father’s eyes turned dark as he tried to limp his way over to him. 

“That’s not true! I told him… both of them.”  A soft, quiet voice from the other side of the room caught everyone’s attention. You were defending him against the wrath of your family when he had just quite possibly ruined your reputation. If his obsession was bad, then it definitely got a thousand times worse at that moment. 

Everything that happened after that was a complete blur. Insults were thrown, threats were laid out, his mother pulled a knife on his sister, and you fled the scene with your head down. It was like a fucking fever dream that didn’t seem to end. 

It got worse the next day. The verbal assault he received from his mother was one for the history books. As was the slap that turned into a giant bruise on his cheek. Aegon was absolutely banished from ever talking, touching, or breathing near you. Any attempt at reaching out would immediately be cut down. His father said nothing of it, probably realizing his mistake in not wedding you sooner. Even Aemond, who should have despised him, forgave him.

It didn’t matter what they thought, he loved you, he wanted you, he needed you, and he was going to fucking have you. Aegon realized several things that night. You needed to be saved from your family as quickly as possible. The bastards and his whore sister needed to die sooner than late. Lastly, he was going to become king no matter what he did. 

You were forbidden from ever speaking to Aegon again. It was awkward to say the least when you had to tell your mother everything. She should have been mad, hit you, yelled at you but she only hugged you when you cried. Your mother knew you didn’t tell anyone you were bastards. She knew you wouldn’t lose your maidenhead unless you truly believe they loved you. However, it was a secret that you could never ever tell anyone else. 

You can never repeat what you said that night, but it was okay, you only wanted to protect who you loved. She explained how Aegon was taking advantage of you and men lie to get what they want. They prey on innocent girls, pretend to love them to get what they want, then discard them. Your mother repeatedly told you it wasn't your fault for your kind heart. She stated it was her own failure for not protecting you from it. 

You didn’t truly believe it was all lies, at least, not all of it. It didn’t really matter now, he was gone forever, and you were alone on Driftmark. 

Until you and your family would have to return to King’s Landing, five years later.

#aegon targaryen #dark aegon targaryen #yandere aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon angst #aegon fluff #aegon smut #aegon fic #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii fic #hotd fic #aegon ii angst

[lovelykhaleesiii]

could you write something about aegon having raw seggs with reader before he sets off for rook’s rest? putting a baby in her just in case … bonus if he’s chubby 🤍

For Good Measure...

PAIRING: Daddy!King!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Daughter!Reader

WORDS: 1,432.

WARNINGS: for the sake of the story, B&C has already occurred prior to Rook's Rest, incest, implied age gap [reader is of consensual age], Daddy kink, breeding kink, mentions of implied pregnancy, p in v sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, possessive!Aegon, swearing, slight praise kink, chubby!Aegon.

*READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION*

A/N - boy oh boy, it feels good to be back… I hope this is a sensational comeback fic for you all. thank you to everyone for the warm welcome. and I hope we’re all preparing for what’s to come… cause I certainly will need you guys to keep me standing tf up!!!!

credit to owners of the images.

“Princess come, come. Your father summons your immediate presence.”

Ser Arryk, a dignified and loyal knight of the Kingsguard, and a familiar, trustworthy face. Your father, the King, Aegon the Second, entrusts him to bring you forth at his beckon call, wherever he may be.

Entering the empty council room, you find yourself engulfed in the menacing silence, scorched by your father's eager, hungry eyes. As the large, oak doors shut close behind, sending an instant shudder across your body, you feel rigid in the unnerving, mighty presence of your father. You knew better: for he would dare not to harm you. In fact, Aegon held quite the opposite attitude towards you. He loved you dearly, romantically. You were the complete apple of his eye, holding you with great infatuation and awe, he was mesmerised by you since you had matured enough into a woman. As the young male lords and knights of realm bestowed their likeness towards you, streaks of jealousy arose feverishly within him, boiling his blood, he refused countless of marriage offers, and ultimately claimed you as his own. Word had spread like wildfire across the realm regardless, of such a blasphemous unity between a man and woman, a father and his daughter: and yet your ancient tradition said otherwise.

Aegon wanted you: a stubborn man, and King nonetheless, his word held the highest authority, making it final. And in the midst of a war, your unity was neither a priority nor the main topic of interest.

"Come to me, my sweet girl. Your Daddy is tired and sapped. Your presence is all I crave for."

Not a breath uttered, except for a subtle exchange of a sympathetic smile as you closely embarked the weary disposition of your father: sprawled against the larger of the sturdy chairs, his figure stout and brawny, he was an impressive sight to see. You felt vulnerable and meek against him, and yet knew the protection he granted, no one else could provide. His grand stature met his considerable authority hand in hand.

"And what does Daddy need me to do for him exactly? Need I sate him, or the needs of the King?"

Your hands softly grip at his shoulders, pushing his chair back, creating enough space between his rotund stomach and the table's edge, mounting his wide, meaty lap.

"Hmm- By serving your Daddy, you serve your King, princess. Do your Septa's not teach you of royal etiquette? What your role to me is? Need me to fuck some sense into you, princess?"

"It would be more compelling than those tedious lessons you force me to attend... I think Daddy just wants me all to himself. This war has stolen you from me, and I-I miss you," The taunting words disappear as your voice grows quiet and shaky, struggling to sustain eye contact with your father, you feel your body fall deeper against his lap, as your fingers toy with the chains of his tunic. His calloused, pale hand reaches up towards you, gently stroking your flushed cheek, as he strokes a shedding tear away.

"I know, baby, I know... I would want nothing more than to just be with you. Have you in my arms and my cock deep inside you all day and night. I can't stand being this far apart from you, even if you remain down the hall from me. Daddy hates disappointing you, princess. I do... But I must ask more from you-"

Sniffling you enquire what precisely, and Aegon's lilac eyes grow tempestuously dark.

"Your Uncle and I are to head to Rook's Rest, for battle-"

A panic breath hitches in your throat, your saddened eyes widen in alarm, your grip on Aegon's broad shoulders tighten: you refuse to let him go if need be.

"I want you to bear a child, our child, my beloved. I want you to carry my heir, it is our duty. I want you to honour me with a babe. I promise I will return in one piece, for you and the babe."

One attention you had grasped in your day to day Septa lessons, was that your father, as King, and whomever his betrothed wife may be, her duty to her Grace, was to provide as many heirs as possible, blessed by the Mother. You knew as a fellow heir in line to your father, the Council and the realm would be expectant. The idea wholesome, the motive morbid, yet a part of you wanted to honour your Grace. You wanted Aegon to claim you as his completely, to taint you with his seed and showcase it to the greater good of the realm.

"I-I would want nothing more. So long as you uphold your promise, and return to me, if the Gods bless me, father, I want you to take me now."

Without a second to spare, Aegon's rough, pudgy hands find their way eagerly hiking up your tender thighs, your gown raking upwards in motion. His plump lips latch onto your reddened, soft ones, biting and pulling at your lower lip in tease. With such a vigorous strength he lifts you effortlessly, planting you onto the table's edge, as he shoves his heavier mass between your legs, spreading you wider open much for his ease. You aid him in undoing his pantaloons and belt, his lips sucking and trailing down your neck, feeling your sensitive skin moist and numb from his eager take.

"My precious girl, so adamant to fulfil her Daddy's wishes. How did I ever deserve the likes of you, my angel. Gonna make me the proudest fucking King."

Moaning helplessly, you feel even more weaker against his efforts, more susceptible to his seduction, as you feel it has been a lifetime since you had been spoiled by your father's heed.

"Y-Yes Daddy- M-Make me all yours, I-I want them a-all to know."

The blush tip of his girthy cock, struck with palpable veins, had been teasing your slick entrance, slowly etching in and out of your folds: plunging himself in suddenly, your tight walls stretching with agony to adjust to his mass: screaming his name in painful pleasure as a lightning shock courses through your feeble body.

"Baby must've forgot how to take her Daddy, huh? Show me how well you can take me, princess. I know this cunt was made just for me, prove it."

His thrusts had always been sloppy and formidable, although the table was sturdy enough to take, you gathered every fibre of strength to hold dearly onto Aegon. Your nails digging viciously into his clothed adipose flesh, for extra support.

"Gonna make you such a pretty, little Mumma. You're going to look so fucking beautiful with my child swelling inside of you, and these tits will grow ripe with milk. Just tell me how bad you want it, princess-"

"Mhmm- S-So fucking bad, Daddy. Over fill me with your seed, and watch me take. It will be my duty, m-my honour. E-Everyone will know, you d-did this to me. W-What will they think of m-me then."

His round hands tugged and pulled at your lush, free fallen strands, one holding you steady by your neck. In sync, your fingers found themselves entangled with his short, platinum strands, burying his face deeper between the crook of your neck, as he remained lapping at your skin in between his words.

"They will know exactly who you belong to, who owns you. No man will dare to question my authority. My decision to make you mine. I'll fucking have you swollen all war long if necessary."

His pace had quickened, his messy thrusts sharper, as his bulging, stiff tip plummeted against your clit. The pain worth the pleasure. Reaching a climax, the sudden outburst of his warm seed overfilled inside of you, spilling out in between the edges as he shifted himself over you, caving in. His heavy mass falling onto you in relief, your sudden outcry of his name disguised as an audible moan, you cradle his solid body in your arms, unable to embrace him completely, you still manage to hold as he regained his composure.

A quick, incomplete clean, he props you up softly against him once more in his lap, stroking your hair, as your dense breaths become one.

"So proud of you, my precious. For all that you have done and put up with... Our children will be blessed with a graceful mother. Our realm delighted with you as their Queen, my Queen. I will return to you with our babe kicking inside of you, I promise."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii imagine #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii imagines #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii angst #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #team green

[thattargboy]

Imagine…

Being Aegon’s sister-wife and he tries to get you and your children to run away with him across the Narrow Sea to avoid being crowned King.

“You need to get up,” You awoke to your husband frantic, and presumably drunk, shaking your shoulder. You shrugged him off and rolled over but it did not sway him.

“Darling, get up,” Aegon said frantically. “We have to go.”

“My love,” you said as you sat up, yawning and wiping the sleep dust from your eyes. “‘Tis the hour of the owl, let me sleep. What could be so important?”

“Our father is dead,” Aegon said solemnly, his words like ice water over you. “Mother and Grandsire mean to name me king. I already have our dragons prepared for flight.”

Your eyes shot open. Whatever state you expected to see your husband in, fully dressed, somewhat sober and dry-eyed, holding your babe with a panicked wet nurse and your two sleepy toddlers on his tail was certainly not it.

“Seven Hells,” you said and rose from bed, running both your hands down your face. You always knew this day would come, and yet even as your father’s health deteriorated, you did not expect it so soon. Perhaps you were blinding yourself, not wanting to face what will, what is, coming after. “How do you even know? I’ve heard nothing of this.”

“When I was… in the city, I had heard Mother’s handmaiden talking with someone; she said Father supposedly named me his heir on his deathbed. With only Mother as a witness. I do not want to stay.” Uprooting our lives over gossip he heard while he was out whoring?

“Are we going somewhere?” Aemon, your eldest, asked. His sister sniffled but he held her hand. You did not know what to say. This was all too much to process. “Is Grandsire dead?”

Your children held no love for their inattentive grandsire, nor did you for your father, but the information clearly distressed all of them. Or perhaps it was their father’s clear panic that was scaring them. Aegon held your little Daerion on his hip, who clearly did not want to be awake, and looked like he was on the verge of wailing.

Aemon and Elaena stood behind him with the nursemaid. The twins were still in their sleep-clothes and held the toy dragons they cannot sleep without. The very picture of innocence and confusion.

You took Daerion from his father’s arms and cradled the small boy. Aegon took your hand, eyes pleading.

“What is it you mean to do?” You asked, trying to keep your voice down. “Take off on Sunfyre and Moonborne to find Saera Targaryen and live in her pillow house for the rest of our days?”

“That sounds lovely to me,” he said.

“Be serious, Aegon!” You chided as you bounced your son. “We cannot run away from our duty, from our family.”

“I am serious, we cannot stay. Being King is the last thing I want, I will hardly be good at it,” Aegon said, taking your face in his hands and pressing his forehead against yours. “My duty is to protect you and our children, and leaving will do that, you know what crowning me will cause. The wet nurse may go wherever she wishes after Daerion is weaned.”

He was serious, that was the bad part. And he was right, which was even worse— whether or not your father truly did name Aegon heir mattered little. Any attempt to put Aegon on the throne will be seen by your half-sister and her supporters as an act of war, putting you and your children in danger.

“We must act swiftly, just say the word.” Aegon kissed you, once, twice, tears finally filling his eyes. “Please, Y/N. Do this for me, out of the love you have for me as a wife, as a twin.”

Most husbands would demand this of you, tearing you and your children from all you have ever known, yours is begging. You kissed your son’s forehead and contemplated, unsure of your next move. Unsure of the future and safety of your family, scared and confused.

Notes: I gave you and Aegon the same amount of children as Aegon and Helaena (twin son and daughter and a younger son) but I didn’t want them to be the same so I changed the names. All their children are named in honor of their siblings. Please tell me what you think, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Ao3 repost if you want to read it there instead

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x sister reader #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #aegon imagine #aegon ii imagine #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x targaryen reader #hotd fanfic #aegon ii angst #aegon targaryen angst #targaryen reader #aegon targaryen x wife #this was supposed to be like. three paragraphs. this man possessed me #angst

[aemxnd]

strength in numbers | aemond & aegon ii x strong!reader

Two scheming Targaryen princes shatter your world as you know it. 

Inspired by a wonderful anon request for a Targaryen sandwich… 🥵

WARNINGS: reader has brown hair for plot point, change of canon events, manipulation, praise, degradation, v fingering, oral f receiving, p in v, titty sucking, name calling, threesome, multiple orgasms, restraint, overstimulation, language, Aemond is a lovestruck cutie, Aegon is a dick, it’s just chaos.

WORDS: 5.6k 

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

✨ my requests are open! ✨

Fire and blood, if commanded correctly, can melt Valyrian steel, lead an army to battle and change the course of a meandering river. 

Aemond’s gaze fixed into the commotion of the family meal to celebrate the Driftmark succession, gaggles of relatives mingling in groups around the hall before dinner arrived. His eye was trained on one of the present number, a woman with rich wavy mahogany tresses tumbling over her shoulders, mixing confidently with his family as if you were always there. 

He was so fixated, the one-eyed Prince missed the approach of his brother Aegon at his blind side, toting a full tankard and observing him unashamedly glaring at you. 

“Are you sure about this, brother?” Aegon leaned into his younger sibling’s shoulder, wavy silver curls brushing his poker-straight locks. “Not too late to back out, you know.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Aegon,” Aemond asserted without a falter, refusing to part his gaze from the vision which made his heart soar.

“You’re well and truly cuntstruck for her, aren’t you?” Aegon pressed jokingly, choking back a chuckle deep in his throat. “She only arrived at King’s Landing last week and you’re already smitten.”

“She deserves to know she is betrothed to her own brother,” Aemond’s lips slowly puffed into a determined pout. “The Strongs aren’t familiar with our family’s… customs.”

Aegon shrugged, eyebrows quirked. “Keep it in the family, I say…”

“You would, brother,” Aemond snapped. “Besides, if nothing else I cannot see her marry that bastard. A beauty of her standard deserves better than Jaecerys Velaryon, eventual heir to the Iron Throne or not.”

“What if all this backfires on you, though?” Aegon took an eager sip of his flagon. “What if she doesn’t choose you, or she turns against you?”

“She will not,” Aemond insisted, watching the way you smile warmly as you make polite conversation with the Queen. “She will know the right course of action.”

“You remember what happened the last time you made a scene like this, don’t you?” Aegon nudged. “Mother wielded a dagger, Rhaenyra’s family left for Dragonstone. It got messy.”

“Yes, brother, I remember it well. We got rid of those bastards from under our feet for a good few years.”

Aegon laughed, jabbing his brother’s arm in jest.

“You do realise you’re risking our family for the sake of a Strong, muddying our bloodline with brown hair… just because she’s Ser Harwin’s only legitimate child, you don’t have to be the lone saviour to keep their low family name alive.”

Aemond did not dignify his statement with an answer, not even breaking his fixation on your form flowing around the hall in your black dress. Fitting for the occasion, he thought to himself, considering you were as good as signing your own death warrant by boring yourself into the grave.

“Well, I’m all out of protests,” Aegon cinched his lips into a grin, demonstrably slapping his own thigh with his free hand. “All that remains is that I hope there’s something in it for me if you want me to help you in this fool’s venture.”

“Your cup will never empty, you can be assured of that,” Aemond clicked his tongue, nodding his head toward Aegon’s quickly dwindling tankard. “I know your price, brother.”

“As you wish, Aemond,” Aegon sighed. “Don’t come crying to me when mother actually stabs our sister this time.”

Three loud chinks of hollow metal signalled the call to be seated.

It’s now or never, Aemond thought to himself.

—

You could cut the tension in the hall with a butter knife. 

“I, umm… I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer,” Aegon jibed to you through a mischievous grin, his provocative jest at your betrothed’s lack of carnal knowledge worked as soon as the syllables left his lips, your gaze flicking to Jaecerys’ fists balling at the table. “But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask.”

Jaecerys slammed the table and rose to his feet in a fit of rage. 

“Jace,” you pressed quietly, calming his temper purely for the sake of public appearances. You may not know many things about Aegon Targaryen, save for his reputation for evocative outbursts like this. The sooner you refuse to humour the platinum-haired firstborn, the better. 

Aegon made a demonstrative nod to his one-eyed brother across the table, who stood upright and cast a stony glare over the room at him. The grace of his stature, the manner in which his poker-straight silver tresses flowed like crystal waterfalls over his shoulders — the man was a striking example of Targaryen beauty that had you all wrapped up in his image rather than the palpable tension in the room.

Aegon dutifully returned to his seat, feigning defeat as per their well-orchestrated plan. Establishing a tension between the two would surely dissuade any concern about their scheming, ensuring any and all consequences would not be levelled at them as a pair, instead dismissed as two isolated incidents in the midst of palpable conflicts within the room. The hall obediently fell silent for Aemond as if he wished to make an announcement, but now was not the correct time to break his cover in sure and certain knowledge that whatever he uttered next would be connected to his brother’s snide remark. 

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond,” Jace raised his goblet tentatively, casting a suitably awkward nod to each of his uncles. “We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies.”

Aemond remained aloof, jaw clenching ever so slightly as he glanced over to you, also raising a toast. 

“To you and your families’ good health, dear uncles.”

Jace tipped his goblet and sipped carefully before placing an assertive hand on Aegon’s shoulder and jabbing a playful fist into his arm. Aegon swallowed harshly, eyes widening at the insinuation. 

“To you as well,” the elder prince conceded reluctantly, stifling a chuckle. 

You had yet to piece together exactly why your betrothed was so anxious around his uncles, or exactly why Helaena Targaryen attested to the ease of married life until your husband is drunk. Word had not reached Harrenhal of any quarrels or infighting between the branches of the silver-haired Targaryen clan, but it seemed like such common knowledge among present company that you didn’t dare question it around the table. 

As the festivities continued, music drowned out small talk and groups gathered to dance. Your betrothed requested a dance, but you refused with a quick excuse that you were too hungry to consider dancing, noticing that more food was being served at the table. A plump roast pig was placed just in front of Aemond when Lucerys began stifling a giggle. In awkward compliance with the commotion around you, you prepared to rise to your feet and join Jaecerys across the room when the one-eyed Prince slammed his fist on the table, silver cutlery chinking against the wood as he stood to address the room. 

“Final tribute,” he declared, raising a goblet aloft as the room fell silent. His jaw tightened. “To the health of my nephews.”

Your gaze fell into your lap, still perplexed by the tension that fell over the room like a grey cloud descending before the storm. 

“Jace,” he nodded. “Luke… and Joffrey.”

You swallowed harshly, reading his body language that felt as if he could lunge across the room at any moment. 

“Each of them handsome, wise…”

A pregnant pause fell mid-sentence. You couldn’t calculate why, but your fingers had begun clinging to the edge of the wooden table, pressing so hard your skin turned pure white. 

“Strong.”

The coil of suspense in the room snapped with his word, but you remained fixed to the edge of the table. 

“Aemond,” the Queen interjected, her face pale and fearful. 

“Come,” he cut off his mother. “Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again,” your betrothed interrupted. 

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment.” To the untrained ear, it was nothing more and nothing less. Your gaze frantically scanned the room, confusion washing over you in a tidal wave as you found shocked, horrified and nervous faces all around the room. Aemond paced over to Jace with rigid shoulders. “Do you not think yourselves strong?”

Jace’s fist flung at Aemond’s and clocked him across the cheek, and in the blink of an eye Aegon was slamming Lucerys’ face into the table. You tried to rise to avoid the commotion, but found yourself frozen to the spot with fear. Aemond smirked proudly, shoving Jace to the floor and walking away with a smug grin as the younger was restrained by the waiting guard. The Queen raced over to the one-eyed Prince in blind panic. 

“Why would you say such a thing before all these people?”

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

His comment caused Jace to lunge free of the guard’s restraint, and suddenly bile rose up into your throat. The penny dropped, a freezing wave of shock washing over you as you realised the enormity of his accusations, no less factual statements considering the response of the entire room to his declaration.

The three brown-haired princes were not Velaryon offspring, but Strong bastards. You were related to your betrothed.

Suddenly, you flung yourself to your feet and scattered from the room, your chair tumbling to the floor with a loud crack behind you. Racing to the nearest exit, your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough away from the horror your mind was beginning to process.

Each darkened hallway that led you further and further from the epicentre of your discovery made your stomach turn, twisting around stone corner after stone corner with your dress billowing behind you.

Having only arrived at the Red Keep mere days ago, you had no idea where you were, where you were going or even your destination, but the thought didn’t cross your mind. Sheer terror had descended a red mist over your vision, your revelation replaying like a recurring nightmare over in your head until the sound of your own blood thundering through your veins sickened you. 

Stumbling around another darkened corner, you hastened until your body slammed into another, a rock-hard cliff face of a human standing before you. The blur of your panic blocked out any features except the black leather chest that stilled your motion, squeezing your eyelids together and opening them to find poker-straight blonde locks flowing over its shoulders, framing a pale, stern face adorned with a leather eye patch. 

Aemond. The executor of your terror.

“Eh… excuse me, your Grace,” you panted out, hastily battling for breath and frantically wracking your brains for an excuse to duck out of idle conversation. “It—it is late, I must retire to my chambers. G… good night, Prince Aemond.” 

You smoothed down your dress and slinked past his broad shoulders obstructing your path, scanning the doors in the hallway and choosing one to swing open. Yet on the other side, you found less of a lavish bed and more cleaning equipment, mops and buckets stacked high in a restricted chamber.

“You’re boarding in the broom cupboard?” Aemond scoffed lightly as he observed you floundering at your discovery, a gentle dismissive shake of his head disguising the delicate notes of a polite giggle. “Why don’t you come with me, Lady Strong?”

In one swift motion, his hand clasped around your forearm and tugged you through another door, this time one where you found a lavish bed at the centre nestled atop ornate flagstones, the walls draped with a thick black satin swooping from corner to corner.

Carefully casting you into the chamber and releasing his grip on your arm, Aemond turned to close the portal behind you, where he pressed his back to the wood and leaned against it. 

“Umm… Prince Aemond, what do you mean by this?”

“You said you wished to rest, my lady,” he nodded dutifully, clasping his hands behind his back. “After the commotion this evening, I shall guard the door for you.”

Your confusion skewed into anger in a heartbeat. 

“A commotion you concocted, Prince,” you spat back through now gritted teeth, lunging toward him. “You conspired to humiliate me in front of them all!”

“Not at all, my lady,” he corrected, his brows knitting into a gentle frown as you closed him against the door. “I only sought to help you.”

“By exposing the princes’ parentage in front of your entire family?” Your hands flew demonstrably in the space between you. 

“They already knew,” his calming voice reassured. “They just don’t like it when I bring it up in conversation.”

“So that display was for my benefit only, then? I was the solitary person in the dark in the entirety of Westeros, so it was a good idea to tell his future wife that she’s marrying her cousin in the most public manner possible? Seven hells, why did you and your drunkard brother Aegon not simply shout it from the Red Keep so even Flea Bottom could hear?”

“Cousin?” Aemond’s head tilted slightly, perplexed at your presumption and pushing himself off the wood to close the gap between you. “Y/N, Jaecerys is your brother. His father is Ser Harwin Strong.”

The wave of bile rose up in your throat again, your fists instinctively clenching at your sides.

“My… my brother?” You retched, throat thickening and constricting at the mere concept. “I’m to be wed to my brother?”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he insisted.

“I could not possibly marry my brother, that’s… that’s…,” you spun away from Aemond, storming across the room to the bed, propping yourself up against the ornate post at its corner. “I’m not accustomed to your… queer Targaryen customs!”

Aemond stifled a laugh under his breath, pacing toward you with his hands still clasped behind his back. 

“This is… this is monstrous,” you choked again, palms pressing into the hollow of your throat in a vain attempt to control your sickened reactions. “My mother called for this betrothal, did… did she know too?”

Aemond didn’t answer, his gaze dropping to the floor. 

“Oh gods,” you despaired at the thought that your mother not only knew your father had sired three bastard sons, but also intended to wed you to the eldest. You sank onto the edge of the bed and dropped your head into your hands. “It’s all such a mess.”

“It does not have to be,” Aemond reassured, approaching to perch by your side. “I want to help you.” 

Unsure you had heard him correctly, your eyes squinted hard and brows furrowed as you raised to look at his softened, sympathetic features. 

“Why do you care?” Your eyelids half-shut in a suspicious frown. “What does it really matter to you whether a Strong suffers a fate of marrying their closest relation?”

You could hear Aemond’s hard gulp, his eye refusing to meet yours. 

“I know right from wrong, Lady Strong,” he dismissed, looking away and twirling his thumbs together like an awkward child. “You deserved to know the truth.”

“The one-eyed prince wanted to do the right thing?” You scoffed. “I would never believe that in an infinity of moons. Tell me the truth, Aemond. Why did you do this for me?”

His lips skewed into a pout. “Because you matter, that’s why.”

“Me? A lowly unwed Strong?” You interrogated him despite his refusal to even meet your gaze as you spoke. “You didn’t even know I existed until last week.”

“The passage of time does not change how you feel for a person!” Aemond’s temper finally snapped, his eye meeting yours with a fierce violet glow. “I could not see you marry that bastard when I would give anything for your countenance to be the last thing my remaining eye sees in this world.”

His words finally slotted into place, and you immediately softened your temper. You reached out a gentle hand to brush his cheek, closely observing the way his eyelid fluttered on contact. 

“Aemond, I didn’t know,” you sighed, recalling each time you caught his gaze upon you ever since you arrived at King’s Landing. He wasn’t just observing you, he wasn’t suspicious of the new betrothed to the second in line to the Iron Throne, he was yearning. 

“It was never my intention to inform you, you were simply supposed to call off your betrothal to Velaryon and leave the Red Keep behind you.” Aemond’s hand rested on your gown draped over your thigh. “But I could not watch you walk away from me.”

You leaned to gently rest your nose against his, breaths heating up each other’s lips as you waited for him to close the gap between you. His eye scanned yours for confirmation before crashing his lips against yours, feverishly pressing into you for the most contact possible. Within moments, his tongue darted to explore your mouth and beckon your own, your mind swirling as frantically as your tongue around his. You blossomed under his touch, his arms now wrapping around your waist as he rose to his feet and lifted you to the centre of the bed. 

Tumbling into crisp silk sheets while jostling for dominance in each other’s mouths, you hardly noticed the tussle to remove each other’s clothing before you found yourself bare beneath Aemond, his knees locking you in on either side as he hovered over you. 

“So beautiful,” he hummed against your lips, consuming your frame with his hands brushing down your curves as he refused to part from your mouth. His fingers journeyed toward the valley of your hips, sinking into the expanse between your hipbones before traversing intrepidly over your mound, eagerly pressing his palm to your skin as he continued. Your legs instinctively twitched at the sensation of his touch, battling to both buck away through sheer sensitivity and also grind into him to chase your own desires, spreading open beneath him to allow the prince to crawl between your thighs. 

“Easy, my lady, I won’t hurt you,” he soothed, lips trailing feverish searing kisses from your lips down the column of your throat, making a determined path for your left breast as your chest heaved with anticipation. “Not unless you ask me to.”

A soft hiss escaped you as his tongue laved around your nipple, consuming the sensitive bud with his lips and latching as if a man starved of touch all his life. 

“Aemond, please…,” you pleaded through shallow breaths, your spine flexing as his touch ignited every vein in your body, pressing his teeth ever so slightly over the hardening bud. “Take me.”

“Patience, sweetling,” he mumbled against your skin, swinging over to lavish your right breast with the same undivided attention while his palm smoothed your mound, fingertips dancing lightly over your pulsing folds to complete his sensory onslaught on your body. “I have no intention of rushing this.”

While carefully suckling on your nipple, his index finger drove an intrepid trail around the perimeter of your waiting entrance, a groan escaping his lips with every soft jerk of your hips into his touch yearning for contact. Unlatching his lips to raise up to hover his lips over yours, Aemond watched your body writhing uncontrollably while your eyelids fluttered from your heightened oversensitivity. 

“So eager for me,” he moaned gratuitously. “You really need me this much? Don’t worry, you’ll have me soon, issa jorrāelagon.” My love.

With his last syllable, two fingers swiftly buried knuckle-deep into your heat with a sharp hiss and another buck of your hips in return. Aemond’s eye fluttered closed to the sweet music of your moans while his fingertips deftly stroked your walls, wasting no time in pumping within you at a pace you were not quite ready for. 

Stealing chaste kisses with every explicit purr from your tongue, Aemond hardly noticed the droplets of anticipation from his own length dragging onto your thigh as he leaned into you. Instead, his lips journeyed to join his pistoning fingers and lightly pecked your sensitive bud. Your hips keened furiously, weakened cries of his name spilling out as your eyes roved into the back of your head. 

“Stay with me, sweet one,” Aemond purred against your clit, the tip of his tongue tracing your sensitive nub as his fingers curled feverishly inside you just enough to bring your attention back to him between your thighs. “I’ll fuck you soon, I promise.”

Aemond licked a flat stripe over your folds before withdrawing his fingers and suddenly dipping the tip of his tongue into your waiting cunt, your walls clenching tightly around the new intrusion while your head threw back into the pillows. Drinking in your moans as the sensation overwhelmed you, he lapped at your core and bucked his hips into the sheets beneath with every flutter of your walls around him. Both hands ventured to spread your folds before him, allowing him easier access to lave deeper inside you. 

“Aem… I’m…,” you stammered, hands clawing at his shoulders and clamping down on your bottom lip to drown out your ragged breaths. “Please, just…”

“Cat got your tongue, sweet girl?” He muttered between your thighs, his eye lust-blown to a pitch black as he gently rutted into the sheets beneath. “You come undone for me so easily.”

Reacting to your fucked-out state so soon, he picked up the pace of his tongue swirling around your core, lapping feverishly while the pad of his thumb trailed to rub gently over your bundle of nerves, sending your hips keening up into his face and earning a hungry growl from the prince eating you like a man starved. Your spine flexed with the pressure building up inside you, the sensation of a spindle tightening within that would soon snap against the rising tension. 

“Aemond please… I’m gonna…”

The staccato flutters of your walls increased around his tongue, encouraging Aemond to ramp up the thrusts of his tongue inside you, licking flat stripes into your core until you toppled over the precipice of your peak, the coiled tension inside you bursting its banks and releasing a tidal wave onto his waiting tongue with repeated cries of his name. Aemond’s eye widened as he consumed the sight of you clenching around him and mewling softly as you rode out your high with the sensation of his breaths against your cunt and both his palms pressed onto your inner thighs, revelling in the gentle shake spreading through your body.

Planting a farewell kiss to your aching folds, Aemond rose to crawl up your body when the sound of an approaching voice burst through the chamber door, resulting in the image of Aegon frozen in the door frame, eyes on stalks as he calculated the sight before him. 

“Have I had one too many cups,” Aegon slurred slightly, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow beneath his dishevelled silver waves. “Or is my brother fucking a Strong in my bed?”

Aemond gulped, sloping his body in a bid to shield your modesty. “‘Twas mere coincidence, brother, I do apologise.”

“Oh no, don’t apologise,” Aegon dismissed, a wavering hand flailing in the space before him. “I may not be all that keen on witnessing my brother in such a compromising position, but the lady on the other hand…”

Aemond lowered his shoulder to conceal you further, still shaking softly in the afterglow of your orgasm, head sinking into the pillows and eyes still flickering closed. 

“Well,” Aegon slapped his thigh. “I guess I should, umm… I’ll sleep in the…”

“Actually, Aegon,” Aemond interrupted his brother, “Perhaps you could assist me further in this venture.”

Aegon puffed his cheeks. “Go on, dear brother.”

“I’m afraid my sweet girl here is in quite a… delicate condition, Aegon,” Aemond pressed, gesturing down to you still blissed-out beneath him, softly groaning and legs twitching as you eagerly awaited Aemond’s return. “Could you mayhaps help me send her over the edge?”

A satisfied chuckle thrummed through Aegon’s throat. “Brother, I know I requested a favour in return for my efforts tonight but, this… have you even consulted the lady?”

“P… please,” you purred weakly, raising a hand out toward Aegon in the open doorway. “Prince…”

“As you can see, brother,” Aemond observed. “At present, the lady is quite absent of mind. Your encouragement would be… gratefully received.”

“As you so wish,” Aegon hesitated for a fraction of a second before clicking the chamber door closed behind him and hurriedly disrobing on his way across the room. As he arrived unclothed at your side, Aegon swept a hand to brush your sweat-slicked hair from your face. “Poor fucked-out little whore, do you need help reaching your peak with my brother?”

“Pl… please,” you begged wearily, hands flailing to grip onto Aegon’s alabaster skin and drawing him in. “Please.”

The brothers shared a sinister chuckle as Aegon scooped his arms around your waist and settled in the space behind you, bare legs enclosing you on either side and his hardening length pressing into your back. 

“You’re going to take everything my brother gives you, isn’t that right little girl?” Aegon sneered into the shell of your ear through an accomplished grin, his manner far more degrading and humiliating than his brother’s which somehow only sought to arouse you further. “Take every inch and still beg him for more, do you hear me?”

Swallowing back a flush of envy as he witnessed his brother’s hands roving over your body, tousling into your hair and tracing your curves before venturing to part your thighs, Aemond’s attentions returned to your soaking cunt, stifling a groan as he noticed the glimmering trail of your own slick coating your thighs.

“Say the word and I will stop, my lady,” he reassured, grasping his length and nudging the tip at your waiting entrance. His eye searched your own faltering ones for a go-ahead signal, finding you making a frantic nod to proceed with all the energy you could muster. In one slow, glacial buck of his hips, his cockhead slipped inside your searing heat and elicited strangled gasps from you both in tandem. Your head dipped back into Aegon’s chest where the elder pulled your hair to face him, consuming your lips in a haunting kiss at the same moment his brother filled your cunt to the hilt. He tasted of bitter wine and desperation, his lips pressing into yours to make the most contact possible. Aegon hummed contentedly into your mouth as you blossomed for the two silver princes, your body and mind caving to their will at every turn as if you belonged to them. 

“She’s so desperate for us, brother,” Aegon observed, pulling from the kiss and watching you gaze up at him through glassy, lust-blown pupils. His vision journeyed down to your lips, parted and plumping to a cherry red after his onslaught. “Give this hungry little cockwhore everything and take no mercy.”

Your gaze snapped back to Aemond with a sharp, devastating thrust into your cunt, his thick cock stretching your walls as if a sculptor crafting his design to his own will, modelling your insides to take him and him alone. 

“My sweet girl,” Aemond cooed, a stark contrast to the humiliating tones of his brother. Bracing himself with one fist balled into the sheets beside you, his hips gathered a steady pace into your core as his free hand raised to cup your chin and captured your lips with his. Smashing into your face and plundering your mouth with an intrepid tongue, Aemond moaned softly against your lips. “You feel like the seven heavens around me.”

“Is she tight, brother?” Aegon groaned behind you, palming at your breasts in his impatient exploration of your body as if his turn to dominate you could not come soon enough. “Is she choking your cock?”

“As tight as your lips should be, Aegon,” Aemond sassed before returning his devoted attention to ruining you slowly but surely, every determined piston of his hips sending your spine bucking into him, thighs wrapping tightly around his waist to draw him in closer. “Is it too much, darling?”

In truth, it was. Between Aegon’s wandering fingers and Aemond’s relentless onslaught on your insides, you were battling for consciousness. The overwhelming tension within you kept you alert under duress, knowing that you could not give in to the darkness until their shared torment came to an end. 

“Y… yes,” you spluttered weakly, unable to gasp out full sentences between Aemond’s full-force thrusts stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Good,” Aegon growled lowly, a hand journeying to wrap around the column of your throat and squeezing at each side, stemming the flow of blood to your brain. “Now you’re ours.”

Although reluctant at the inclusion of his brother in the statement, Aemond punctuated with a sharp snap of his hips to press his cockhead against your cervix, making you wail out his name for its echo to carry around the stone chamber along with the lewd slaps of your coupling.

“You’re not going to marry the Velaryon bastard, are you?” Aemond queried while ramping up his pace to an unbearable tempo, his throbbing tip stroking the entrance to your cervix. 

“N… no, ser,” you complied, hands scrambling to clutch at Aemond’s poker-straight locks, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and tugging him toward you, helplessly signalling your cliff-edge nearing once more and your desperate need for more contact to push yourself over the precipice.

“Good girl,” Aemond swallowed, swooping down to capture your lips with his and clenching his eye closed to savour the warmth of your cunt bowing to his will.

Aegon’s hand tightened around your throat, exposing your neck and leaning in to drag his teeth over your sensitive skin. His free digits trailed between the valley of your hips to stroke your bundle of nerves, gloating at the keening of your hips into his overstimulation. “Now let go for us.”

You flexed and writhed between the two princes, screaming out into the void as they chased you to your peak, molten flame coursing through your veins as if you might lose consciousness at any moment. Aemond’s thrusts refused to relent, plunging deep inside you while your walls flushed waves of your own pleasure out to greet his throbbing member. Explicit splashes filled the room as he continued to ride out your orgasm in pursuit of his own, plummeting into you with a force that left your vision blurred with stars like the night sky.

“That’s it,” Aegon encouraged, his fingers still working your clit to oversensitivity and enjoying the way your thighs twitched away from him. “Aemond’s going to fill you up now, what do you say, Strong?”

Your fucked-out state could barely hear a word coming from behind you, which earned a hard squeeze on your windpipe. 

“I said, say thank you to my brother for filling you up, little bitch,” Aegon spat into the shell of your ear, sinking his teeth into your earlobe. 

“Th… thank you, ser,” you spluttered out mid-consciousness, your walls still fluttering so delicately that you could just make out Aemond’s twitching cock pulsing inside you, ragged thrusts betraying his own climax as he spilled his seed into your warm chambers. His own distempered breaths melted with your own as he bumped his forehead against yours, pressing a light peck to your nose while you both steadied yourselves and Aegon released your throat. 

“You swear you will not return to Jaecerys?” Aemond pressed once more as he slowly withdrew his length from your swollen folds, a wave of post-coupling clarity washing over him and a sense of dread rising to the surface that him and his brother may have scared you away for good. “Please, don’t go to him.”

“Never, Prince Aemond,” you reassured while you regained breath. “I’m yours, beloved.”

“Well, you say that now,” Aegon interjected behind you, threading his fingers into your brunette hair and tugging you back to face him. “Your evening is not quite over yet, Lady Strong.”

His lips crashed into yours and melted your resolve once more, your spine caving and sinking into his touch. Your spit-slicked lips felt swollen against his own narrow mouth, his kiss so feverishly intense as if he craved you with every beat of his drunken heart.

Your attention turned back to Aemond as the mattress lifted between your thighs, signalling his departure. He rolled back on his knees and grasped your shoulder to prop you up while Aegon moved from beneath you, taking his place caging you between his thighs and planting butterfly kisses on your head trailing down to the nape of your neck.

“It’s alright, angel,” Aemond comforted, long slender fingers entwining in your hair and cupping your neck beneath.

Aegon cleared his throat as he arrived between your parted thighs. 

“Lady Strong, you’ve seen how… precious my brother can be,” he remarked with a raised eyebrow, palming at his length and crawling to approach your cunt, reddened and enraged but by no means unwilling to sustain a third orgasm. “Are you ready to find out what it’s like to be fucked beyond your senses?”

You swallowed hard, glanced back at Aemond and nodded contentedly. 

As the river bends to the will of fire and blood, two Targaryen princes parted your Strong resolve, never to return to its former path. 

“Good girl,” Aegon growled deep in his throat, his aching cockhead nudging at your folds. “Hold onto Aemond for me, this might hurt a little.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfiction #tom glynn carney fanfiction #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd smut #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen x yn #hotd x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x yn #aegon targaryen #aegon ii smut #aegon ii angst #aemond smut #aemond angst #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon imagines #aegon ii targaryen smut #aemond targaryen smut

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x FemReader| Master List

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen.

You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

"An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle. But it will never break." - A Chinese Proverb

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty-Two

Part Twenty-Three

Part Twenty-Four

Part Twenty-Five

Part Twenty-Six

Part Twenty-Seven

Part Twenty-Eight

Part Twenty-Nine

Part Thirty

Part Thirty-One

Part Thirty-Two

Part Thirty-Three

Part Thirty-Four

Spotify Playlist

YouTube Playlist

Fan Made Playlist

All typical Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon warnings apply to this story, but I will put specific ones above each chapter.

#aegon ii #aegon the second #aegon the usurper #hotd aegon #aegon x you #aegon targaryen #aegon smut #aegon x y/n #prince aegon #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon targaryen x y/n #house of the dragon #aegon x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii fic #tom glynn carney #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii angst #his love fanfic

[darlingofvalyria]

As lovers, you and Aegon were the best. As exes, you and him might be the actual worst. But he can't help himself, and you're powerless to your own desires. A Halloween Party, more than hard liquor, and glances that attempts to stifle stares of want— everything comes to a catalyst.

╰┈➤ PROMPTS ❝ INTOXICATED, DOM/SUB DYNAMICS ❞

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 2,359 ] [ masterlist ] | Modern!AU Aegon Targaryen II x F!Reader

contains— smut, angsty - exes to lovers, frat parties, college au!, possessive, cheating (not you or aeg), intoxication - messy sex for the messy exes, sorta toxic if you squint - petnames: sweet angel, sweet girl, sweetheart - mention of drug usage, slight hint addiction - nsfw: fingering, overstimulation, marking, dubcon + enthusiastic agreement, degradation, praise kink, dom!aeg— dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink if you squint, creampie - no betas.

a/n— hopefully this works for the request! it's a little... sadder and smuttier, but hey! ahahah! this is why i don't do daily kinktober. as an overwriter, it's just not possible to be quick jsdhjsh. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

It starts with, "Don't look, it's your ex."

And you pause. You freeze. You physically feel the adrenaline course through each and which way vein in your system, finding the end of your epidermis and hairline. It's a lot and you still have yet to land your eyes on him. The punch you've been offered not long ago that's slowly been condensing between your fingers register in your brain as cold, a drink, alcoholic— that you toss your head back and chug.

You sputter and choke afterward, your friend slamming her hand on your back in sympathy. "F-fuck. That's gross."

"Dude," she nervously giggles. "I don't think you were supposed to throat shot that."

"It tastes chemical, like chugging a nuclear reactor. I don't recommend it either." You exchange each hand to wipe the wetness on your skirt and holding your glass, trying to settle your nerves. "Where is he?"

"Got waylaid by two frat brothers, Dumb and Dumber, I think... think he's chatting up— yep, Frat President, with... an Olsen Twin on his lap. Fuck. I'm sorry, bestie."

You try to laugh but it comes out strangled. Because of course. Aegon is a pretty comet who streaks by, just as pretty and just as infrequent, coming to pass like a godly miracle and people just devours him.

Because he's Aegon, always the shiniest star, the bestest friend, somehow everyone's first something. First kiss, first messy hookup, first 'and he did this thing with his tongue, oh my gods, I saw five stars and the moon!', etcetera.

You aren't his first love and you sure as shit aren't going to be his first heartbreak. You wonder how many heartbreaks it'll be tonight; there's a running tally of three heartbreaks within one party, a fantastical rumour, a proud, mysogynistic chidding between male friends— before you got together with him, before your sphere ever clashed with Aegon Targaryen when he too was just a comet to you, a moon, an asteroid— always on orbit but always outside, unknown to the taste of his lips when he giggles between kisses, nor the pretty sighs when your fingers find the bulge in his pants.

Fuck. You're getting teary and you're in your first Halloween party since breaking up with Aegon. You got dressed up and had gotten your makeup done by your more creative friend.

You need to stop wasting emotions and cruelly painful thoughts for the star haired boy.

"Fuck it. Where's the hard drugs?"

Your friend snorts. "I'm not letting you do hard drugs. I am going to do very nice grass with you from very nice people on the sofa already hallucinating."

"Fine. But we're doing shots."

Aegon didn't see you the first time he arrived, but he will always, always find you in a crowd.

It's your laughter that triggers it this time, a sound embedded in his bones that he turns like a dog at the sound, as if finding his master. And then you're there, loose and happy, his heart stuttering at the pure joy and fun in your face, in your body, as you swayed slightly the beat, holding a freshly emptied shot glass.

He swallows. Fuck. You're still so pretty.

Your makeup is done sharper, your lips glossy and bright— a cherry red. His mouth watering when you pout dramatically at your friend, the pulsing lights caressing every dip and bow, every curve and edge of you. Your hair is loose, framing your face with a fake, paper halo over your head that sparkles in glitter, matching the body glitter across your shoulders and collarbones, even the peeks of your thighs under the white, silk dress that, with a jump in his throat, has his cock standing at attention.

He knows that dress.

He remembers the ghostly echoes of the lace detailing atop your chest, how it feels under his palms when he skates his hand over to squeeze your tits, the feel of the silk against his stomach when you lean over his body as your pussy flutters, clenching, while you roll and grind against him, trying to find pleasure—

"Fucking hell," he downs the punchy, mysterious liquid that's just straight vodka with rum, soda and strawberry syrup (absolutely disgusting but good enough for college students on a Friday), because he's fucking hard, and you're just there, oblivious, dancing, looking gorgeous, and his heart is aching. You're everything he's ever want, desired and should have kept better care for— fuck all the arguments, all the fights, all the stupid little reasons that he can't remember anymore why you two broke up —

And his stare is heated, penetrative, because the next thing he knows you're looking back at him. A thread of swallowing gaze, of empty thought but the baseborn sound of a Halloween party and two people who can't look away. Their past is twisted between them, their future uncertain, but their present is here and the want is certain.

The shared heat is gone when a hand is on his shoulder and he is forcibly turned. Qoren Martell shakes his head, lips turned down.

"No, dude. That's a bad idea."

And Aegon smirks because that's what's expected of him. His fingers tingle as he clench and unclench them. He can't be seen mooning over an ex.

"Not if she wants it."

It's a douchebag reply, an Aegon Second of His Name reply, but Qoren knows him better than that, even Jason who's not even looking at him, staring at Solana who was grinding against some frat bro from Beta Theta while staring directly at him.

Aegon snorts when Qoren smacks Jason's head.

"So that's why you didn't bring Johanna, you fucker." Aegon takes another beer, itching for the paraphernalia hot in his pocket. You've turned away and the itch is back, low but steady.

Jason shrugs. "I don't know what you mean."

"I am not babysitting both of you, motherfucks," Qoren mutters. "You're both responsible of your mistakes tonight I'm meeting Somi tomorrow and neither of you messy fuckers are going to ruin that for me, alright?" With that, he slaps a hand on both of their backs, making Jason curse as his beer spills.

When Aegon watches Qoren leave, he turns back to you and see you're already staring, irises too wide, full lips slightly open, and the thrum of heat, nice and striking, runs down his body.

He's going to fuck you. Or you're going to fuck him. It's set in stone, written in fate's ink. When you move away, his stare hooked on you, he smirks the moment you turn back to see if he's still watching, starving, and cocking your head as if asking,

Not going to follow?

But of course he does, it's you and him.

It doesn't start with a kiss. It's a hungry stare meeting in a bathroom mirror spotted by dry water, and he knows what you need, taking your hair in his hand as he stands beside you, tugging you toward him as a gasp leaves your lips, your hands winding to his hips, anchoring yourself.

"How much have you had?" he asks, moving his hand to your neck, stroking the edge of your jaw, watching your wet lashes and licking lips. "Come on, sweet angel." His other hand moves to the edge of your white silk, running his nails across your thighs.

"Does it matter? I want you." A breathy whimper leaves your lips as his mouth latches on your neck, tugging your hair to the side to start sucking bruises as his hand finds your panties and a groan rips out of him.

"You're this wet, sweet angel? All for me?"

"I was grinding on, hhh— Jon, don't flatter your—" You yelp, a sounding slap on your wet cunt and your wetness clings to his hand. You squirm in his hold, but he tightens, cupping your centre with his thick hand.

"This is my pussy," he hums sweetly, cheekily, but you know better. Aegon got sweeter when he was jealous. He smiled brighter when he got angry. He goaded when he hears warning in someone's voice. Daring them. Daring you. "How fucking dare you let someone— Snow, that creepy, depressed asshole, really, sweetheart? — my pussy?"

A flash of heat in your eyes meets his mullish blue gaze. Heat and hurt. "We've broken up, Aeg. You don't get to own me."

His heart thrums, head swimming— but not much as yours. You don't do drugs as hard as him, and you've been hitting something tonight. Your irises are wider, blacker even when you're turned on. You kept wetting your lips even as slick already covers your gloss. With a hum, he thrusts two of his fingers inside without preamble and you keen, arching against him as he kept a steady, fast pace, using the meat of his palm every few chuckles to rub your clit until your leg shakes.

"F-fuck, fuck, Aeg—" Your hands hold onto him for dear life as you feel your orgasm tide but he doesn't let up, continues his humming with his fingers, his mouth sucking your neck until you feel slobbered through the haze, until it starts to hurt with your overstimulation, forming bruises continually sucked on— and you cum again, too fast and too painful the second time. Pushed rather than pulled into the peak and he coos as he slows once you start crying out, tears in your eyes, mouth agape, patting your pussy and even you can hear the squelch.

His last pat is more of a slap, making you jolt and wail.

He smiles as he meets your watery gaze in the mirror, leaning back against the tiled wall to pull your skirt up, bracing you against his knee so you can see your wet and abused fluffy folds.

"What'd I tell you, darling? This is mine. Even she recognises me when you couldn't. For being an angel, you sure do got a mean streak."

You sniffle, nodding along in your hazy mind. "S-sorry. I'm sorry, Aeg."

"Aw, it's okay, only hurt my heart a little." He gives you a sweet peck on the cheek, fingers running down the wet path of freshly forming bruises on your neck. "I've missed you s'all."

"Me too. I-I've missed you too, baby," you say, eyes burning as you blink at the sincerity, smile turning a little softer, more real. "Wanna feel you."

"You already did, sweets, you did well too. How many special grass have you had?"

"Just okay." You twist in his hold, his knee straightening as you turn to him with your hands on his chest, looking up, pouting. "But I want you."

His cock throbs and you feel it against your thigh, but his face remains neutral, tinged with amusement as if he doesn't want to hoist you and fuck you into oblivion.

"It seems such the angel has forgotten her manners." He presses his thumb against your lip until he pushes it deeper, pressing it against your tongue before letting you suck on it, lashes fluttering.

"That's not what we say when want something. Use your words properly, baby," he mock, heat sizzling inside you, cunt throbbing. Though pleasing him has always been how your dynamic works, enjoying the way your mind blanks, filled only with the desire to be his sweet girl, his good girl while he relishes in dominating you.

Physically manhandling you was one thing, puppeteering your wants to mould his was another.

Loss of control was a soft tissue in Aegon's armour. And though you had gotten close, he had never opened up that part of him.

It was one of the reasons you broke up.

Your intoxicated-addled mind comprehends that, to a level, this is bad, but b, he's close, distracting you with his presence, his thumb on your mouth a familiar action, and you never get just one orgasm from Aegon so it doesn't linger long. The thought vanishes like a salt-licked ghost from a too recent past before you're holding on his hand and you're smiling sweetly.

"I want you to feel good too, Aeg," you whisper. "I want your cock inside me."

And he smiles— won, lost, who knows anymore. "There she is."

The next events are truly hazy. All you can remember is that he's close, closer than he's been in months, in you and stuck to you, snapping his hips against yours while your legs are up and jelly, bunched up in his arms while you hold strong against the wall.

The world is mush of thought, tongue, and messy kisses that are more spit and moan between your familiar, favourite cock driving into you again and again. A steady, almost sweetly, rock of his hips driving into that spongy, hard part of you that makes your toes curl and the pleasure to overwhelm. There's sweat and there are tender presses of his lips on your face when you both calm down, almost too sweetly, too needy for the Aegon that you know.

But every time you're about to come down from that high, he's rocking into you again, squeezing your thighs, your tits, using the mess of your cum and his to rub against your clit, and you're gone again.

The pleasure, driven again and again, wipes your memory of the more tender words he murmurs against your skin.

"L-love you so much, baby, god, you don't know how much I've missed you."

"You cumming again? T-that's a good girl, so sweet f'me, fuck, so good."

You don't know how you got to the room the morning, but you're dry and clean and the morning is stale but not head pounding. And you wake up alone, no trace of Aegon at all.

If it wasn't for the trail of bruised kisses against your throat, the throbbing between your legs, full of shared cum when you dip a finger in— you could've said he was nothing more than a ghost of the past, a pretty little dream.

Hooking up with your ex ends with a toughened heart, too empty to cry as you read a message from him.

BLOCK HIM: i'm sorry.

#aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii angst #aegon targaryen ii fanfiction #aegon targaryen ii smut #aegon targaryen ii angst #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #︶꒦꒷♡ elle tries kinks ♡꒷꒦︶ #🌼━━･❪ requested ❫ ･━━🌻

[bucknastysbabe]

I can have an aegon ii crying and whining (love to see that man cry) because he knows you're going to break up with him....

I hope this is alright, thanks for the request. Xoxo

Rating: Mature

Tags: TW//Alcohol abuse, addiction, verbal and emotional abuse, alcoholic/addict Aegon, codependency, description of DTs, break-up, man tears, modern!au, sorry I projected my alcoholism on this, man tears whiny pathetic babykins

A/N: Sorry Anon if I took some liberties, I felt this as a good reason for him to be crybaby. Alcoholic projection gets me ass sometimes

“No-nononono!,” Aegon cried from behind you.

You poured the last of his bottle out of the sink. The fucker had hidden the booze in your boots. Your boots. After boldly claiming he was sober, clean, and going to meetings. Alas, here you were again, Aegon whining and begging once again. Cycle of insanity as that blue book he owned said. Fat tears leaked from his wide orbs, lips trembling, face blotchy and red.

“You lied to me!,” you barked.

He tugged at his hair, big violet eyes fixated on that precious liquid going down the drain. Aegon whimpered, “Stop. Stop it! I’m sorry, I- I- I won’t do it anymore! I hid it for an emergency!” He sobbed as you placed the now empty bottle onto the counter.

This was on and off for what felt like the entirety of the relationship. It was fun at first— party Prince Aegon Targaryen. You two would go all night. You began to grow tired of the non-stop celebration. He’d keep going, snorting in the bathroom, taking something to sleep, leaving to hang out with the ‘bros’. Always had a reason to have something in his system.

You didn’t know if he had ever cheated. It felt he cheated on you with the bottle— ‘his baby’ he so fondly referred to alcohol one time. He had to take an extra semester only to land on academic probation. You graduated and got a job, got a place with Aegon. Upon moving in you expressed your feelings about his habits, the blonde apologizing and swearing he’d be on the straight and narrow.

Your stupid simple heart thought he would change, the little oath he made would settle Aeg some. He did at first, snuggling down for movies, grandiose gifts, and dinner for two with one cup of wine. Looking back on Aegon’s behavior he was too settled— a little hazy, forgetful, coming in and out of the world. Checking his bedside drawer that night explained the situation. Bars upon bars of Xanax in a bag. Something to quell the annoyance of being a real boyfriend.

That was a big fight. You ‘broke up’ with him on the spot. Aegon immediately burst into sobs, crying and promising to do better. No more pills. You believed him, again, the fucker even charmed you back into bed. ‘Making love’, holding hands as he filled you up, promising and apologizing. Sorry sorry sorry.

It’s about all he could muster anymore with you. Sorry.

You swallowed a sob and warbled, “You keep saying you’re going to change Aegon! It never happens! Here were are again, finding your little lies all over the place. You need help! Sorry doesn’t change shit baby. I’m done, I’m done with this. Do you even think about my feelings?”

He whined in distress, walking over and dropping to his knees. You let your sick baby cry into your stomach, arms wrapped tight around you. Sighing heavily you pet his white hair, nose wrinkling at the booze coming off his skin, the sink, everywhere.

He looked up with reddened eyes, pretty lips trembling as he begged, “You’ve got to help me, please, I can’t stop. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t leave me alone, I-I’m scared.” Every part of your body wanted to believe him. The trust had been long shattered like the bottle he threw at the wall one time— smashing it in a drunken rage.

“Why can’t you just piss off and let me do my thing? Fucking ball and chain!”

Aegon whined your name some more, gripping harder. He whimpered, “You won’t leave me right? Right my love?” You looked away and wiped a tear. He clung harder, sobbing, “No, please love, puh-please, no.” Wrenching free from the grip you shook your head. He tried to grab again, you stepping backward with a hand up.

“No Aegon. You need to seek help. For yourself, not me. I’m done. You’ve hurt me enough,” softening your tone you added, “Baby, you’re very very sick. You’ll die. Make a choice.”

He looked disgustingly sad and pathetic on his knees, hands wrenching at whatever was available. Aegon’s brow furrowed as he hissed, “So you’re like the rest— just leaving me.” You sighed in pity, running a hand over your brow. This was getting harder by the second, the damn man wearing you down to a nub.

“No Aegon. You made them leave. Pushed all of us away on your pursuit for, for, whatever you’re seeking inside.”

He warbled, “Don’t say that.”

“Just go look in the mirror. Call your mother.”

You stepped out of the wretched apartment, Aegon’s wailing filling your ears. ‘Don’t leave me!’ You’d break down later. It felt like a gaping wound settled in your chest. You idly wondered if Aegon felt like that— needing to fill the pocket with anything that didn’t make the blonde feel like himself.

Aegon stared in the mirror, puking after a short gaze. He hated what stared back at him. Hated everything really. Now he had nothing to suck on to take the pain away. No baby to coddle him, his baby, who he used and abused like everything else. Aegon sniffled and wiped his mouth. Leaning on the wall in front of the toilet he dialed his mother's number. Straight to voicemail.

“Hey Mom. I need help. Like, put me somewhere help.”

He frowned at how worn down and whiny his voice sounded. Whatever. What did he have left anyway? A future? Maybe. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the inevitable shakes begin. There might be a hidden spot up in the fake fireplace. The prince would get it when he’d start shaking enough to lose the ability to walk.

#hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #modern!aegon targaryen #modern!au #read the tw and tags #aegon ii angst #aegon ii targaryen x reader #ask answered

[spaceycowboys]

lil snippet of some pining!aegon and aemond’s wife (angsty on aegon’s end) i expect it to be finished and uploaded by tuesday! please let me know what you think!!

Aegon’s never felt this way before. The swelling in his chest so unfamiliar when you smile softly at him, a smile you typically reserve for your husband, directed towards him across the table at dinner.

Your hair is down this evening, something you’ve only started doing recently. Foregoing the braids and just letting it fall down your back, it looks better with the way it frames your face when it’s down, Aegon thinks to himself. By the looks of it, Aemond thinks so to.

Aemond loves you, his sweet and kindhearted lady wife, so very deeply. At one point it would’ve made Aegon sick to his stomach to witness, willing him to throw up whatever . The way he dotes on you, holds your hand while you walk through the Keep, brushes your hair back when it gets in the way of your reading, tenderly rubs your face with his thumbs when you get excited while talking.

It still does make him sick to his stomach, just not in the same way it used to. No. This sickness crawls at his chest, a feeling so cold yet so hot, and his stomach twists into tight knots, hands clamp up and throat swells in an unfamiliar way. It makes him feel like he’s dying.

Perhaps he is. Maybe not having a love like the love you hold for Aemond will ultimately be what kills him. He’s sure Helaena could love him if he could show her any kindness. He doesn’t want that kind of love from Helaena.

Aegon’s eyes watch as Aemond continues his conversation with Jason Lannister, but hand reaches for yours as you speak animatedly with Helaena about something.

His ears are ringing as he grabs the cup full of wine and downs it in two gulps. Aemond’s hand squeezes yours twice, you smile at Helaena as you squeeze his back. The servant girl refills his cup for him, tearing his eyes away from your joined hands he looks to her.

Her hair is the same color as yours. Though, her eyes aren’t the same color, eyebrows aren’t the same shape, lips are quiet a bit smaller than yours. Her hand looks about the same size as yours, even if it is rougher and has callouses.

She will do. He supposes.

“What is your name?” He looks away from her as he asks, and her hold on the pitcher tightens.

“I’m sorry?” Her voice is shaky, she’s already annoying him.

His head snaps back to hers, eyes boring deeply into her own as the girl feels her blood run cold, “I asked you for your name.”

She looks around the table. Her eyes lingering at the Queen, his mother, Helaena, and you for a moment.

“My name is Elaine, my Prince,” He hums a bored tone before nodding.

“I will require wine in my chambers after dinner, Elaine.” His voice isn’t soft, and he doesn’t hide what he plans on doing later.

His mother looks furious, Helaena just looks down at her plate. You, however, you look almost disappointed. As if you couldn’t believe he would do such a thing, let alone in front of his own wife.

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii imagine #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #aegon ii angst

[mariaenchanted]

The Victim of His Love (Part 2)

Pairings: Aegon II Targaryen x Lowborn!Reader

Summary: You followed your heart and it destroyed you.

Word Count: 1.3k

Note: I enjoy writing this chapter. Exploring some parts of Aegon’s and the reader’s relationship. 🌷

Masterlist

***

***

You were lying on your stomach, feeling the tickle as Aegon kissed your bare back. His lips travel up until it reaches your neck towards one of your ears. He playfully bites your ears, and you can't stop giggling.

"I love you." he then whispered to you.

A tender smile flashed on your lips when you heard them. Words full of love. You turned around to face him. As the moonlight enters the room, you can still see his face. Even if it is dark, his eyes can still light up the room. You wrapped your arm around his neck while he propped his arms on both sides of your head.

"And I love you." You replied. You feel his breath as he brings his face closer to yours. When your lips touch, you can't ask for more. You got him even closer to you as his tongue explored the inside of your mouth. Then you feel your body heat up, and your fingers run to the back of his hair. He bites your lower lip as he suddenly parts from your lips.

You gave him a playful scowl when he decided to end the kiss.

“You are being mean, my prince."

He just chuckled and then gave you a peck on the lips. Afterward, he lay on your side while you rested your head on his chest. He gently caresses your hair. You close your eyes while he is doing that. In a few hours, both of you will return to reality, A reality that the two of you will never be the same. Sometimes you just wish it was different, that you had met in another circumstance, and that he is free to choose who to love.

As you both stare at the ceilings of your humble home, you suddenly remember the gift you would give him if only he wasn't in a hurry to get you in bed, and you are not complaining either.

“I have something to give you.”

You open your little cabinet beside your bed, and when you find it, you immediately light up a candle and face him, smiling.

“What? Why do you look so delightful?”

Then you handed him over the gift you were so pleased to show him. When you see this, you know in your heart you need to buy this for him. You purchased this necklace with a lilac-colored stone bead in the center with your meager money.

"I know it is not as exquisite as the jewelry in the palace, but when I saw it, I immediately remembered your eyes. Eyes that I am willing to drown into."

Still smiling, you presented it to him. He accepted it quietly. For a few moments, you didn't hear a word from him.

The smile also gradually disappeared due to his reaction. Doesn't he like it?

"Maybe I'll just give it back..." you tried to take it from him, but he also quickly stopped you from doing it.

"Don't... Don't ever say that because this thing is of immeasurable worth," he said and put it on. A flicker of a smile can be seen across his face.

Then he leans closer while you close your eyes; as your mouth touches his, you feel the warmth of summer radiating to your body. He stops and presses his forehead into mine.

"Run away with me."

You open your eyes as you hear what he said. You move a little away from him and then look directly into his eyes, whether he is telling the truth or jesting. But no, all you can see is him, determined to know your decision. Stunned, you decided not to respond immediately but stand and walk around the room, baring yourself to him and not minding the hungry look he has been giving.

“Or we can bring to fruition what we started, my love, and think about that a little later.”

You ignored what he said and returned to the bed, then sat down in front of him.

“Are your words sincere? But how? What of your duty?”

He turns, quickly moves to the bed's side and places his elbow on his knee. "I know, it is idiotic to even say that. But that is the only thing I must do to be with you. I don't crave this life anymore. I do not even want the crown and the throne. I do not want it. I know being with me is tough, but all I ever wanted was to be with you. That we could be anywhere but here." He ran both hands to his face to his hair, then rested it on the side of the bed. His eyes went to the floor. No one decided to speak.

You were just shaken by what he told you. But hearing from him, you know what will be the answer to it, always. After a few moments of silence, you got up and wrapped yourself in a blanket. You stand in front of him. He looked up at you.

"Yes," you told him.

"What did you say?" catching the confusion in his voice.

“Yes, my love. I will run away with you. We may not know what will happen, but my heart will be yours forever." you said as you could not hold back the tears.

He beams with laughter as he stands up. He then suddenly placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you hard. When your lips parted, there were tears in his eyes.

You just smiled and then let go of the blanket around your body.

"Now, without a doubt, we should bring into fruition what started, my love."

He just grinned. You giggled as he lifted both legs and wrapped them around his waist.

As the night ended, you wasted no time worshipping each other's bodies.

***

You woke up suddenly when you felt the boat comes to a stop. A dream... No, a memory you wished to destroy. He did not truly love you. His love is poison in a bottle, and you drank all its contents.

Wasting no time, you quickly climb out of it and walk to the dock to the person who receives payment for the transport. You did not have difficulty paying them because you are the only passenger left on this boat. As you pay the man, you roam your gaze to the people and the surrounding. It is almost at odds with where you grow up. No crowded places, no tall structures, and mainly no big castle. Never in your life have you set foot in any place other than Kings’ Landing, and all you can ever utter is it looks enchanting. The man cleared his throat, then your eyes went immediately to him.

“Pyrefield," He said suddenly.

“Hmm... What did you say?” confusion laced in my voice.

“I said this place is called Pyrefield.” He continued while counting his earnings.

“Why is that?”

“You’ll know when you decide to live here.”

You just nodded your head and went ahead, leaving him. Nothing really comes into your mind about what will happen to you now that you have a child. You don't even know what to do. You have to get out of there for your own sanity, and this is the ideal place not to be seen.

"Did you run away?" You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him while unconsciously putting your hands on your belly. The swell may not be striking yet, but the way you protected it did not go unnoticed by the man.

“It will be good for your child... if you live here. You may sometimes feel secluded and lonely, but calmness and being free are aligned with it.”

“And I’ll look forward to it." You simply bow at him and smile. Then head to where you can start a life with yourself and your unborn child.

***

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#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii angst #aegon ii

[sunfyresrider]

The King's Wife

Aegon II Targaryen X Fem!Reader

Summary: After the miscarriage of the king’s first born child you must go through your grief alone. That is until he summons a dinner where all truths are revealed. Tags: child loss, semi toxic relationship, fluffy ending. Author’s Note: Hi anon! This is for your lovely self<3 I rewrote this like ten times I'm sorry

You loved your husband more dearly than anything in this world and he loved you all the same. It is rare that a person enjoys their betrothed let alone loves them. It was a perfect match, created by complete accident. The Hightowers needed allies, an army, and for their king to have heirs. You needed a husband, a home and a family to replace your own. Truly, it seemed impossible everything worked out so beautifully.

Until it didn’t. The old king died after your marriage, the one he did not attend. Within a week your entire world had been uprooted and torn apart. You had yet to produce an heir, but it had only been a handful of months. The Hightowers either waited too late or the king died too soon, you didn’t know which. One moment you were lying in bed peacefully with your husband, the next you were standing in the dragonpit adorned with a crown. 

The coronation was masterfully crafted to be an affair of the ages. To be remembered by all the small folk and Lords who attended, to prove Aegon was the one and only rightful heir to the throne. And you were his beloved queen. You never expected Aegon to wholly embrace his new duties, to faithfully serve the realm. In the several years you had been married he never once showed care for any of it. Obviously, there was a side of him you hadn’t yet seen.

For every hour in the past weeks since a crown was placed atop his head, he had been busy. He would scheme in the council room meticulously making plans to destroy the Blacks. He worked tirelessly to ensure the small folk’s love, to coerce lords to join his cause and dispose of those who did not. 

Needless to say, your husband had become a complete stranger. You saw him at night when he dragged himself into bed with a large sigh. You attempted to comfort him, to love him, but were. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just so exhausted I can’t bear to move.’ An excuse, you thought to yourself. You took to sleeping on the edge of the bed, facing the wall instead of the man you were supposed to be. You tried to remind yourself this was not intentional, he was a new king in the midst of the war, it wasn’t your fault he could not be bothered. 

Mayhaps you should have been more understanding, maybe you should have forced him to give you the same attention as he used to but there were now other more important things. As the days flew by you became increasingly ill with something you could not name. You rarely left the bed now, too fatigued to fathom moving. 

In fear that you may be contagious, you have started sleeping in separate chambers. If your mind wasn’t so dazed by whatever plagued you, you would be far angrier. The vomiting began on the third day and seemed to not stop. Every food or medicine placed in front of you made you gag. It was impossible to keep anything inside when it all wanted to come out. 

The fourth day was when you realized something was horribly amiss, though you told no one. It started in the morning, the worst cramps you had felt in your entire life. You panicked at the sight of the blood but forced yourself to bite your lip. You couldn’t risk bothering everyone during such a time filled with turmoil. It lasted three hours, the pain, the blood, and the tears mixing into your sweat. A babe no larger than your foot was born, deceased. 

You couldn’t put into words the feelings that were boiling inside you. The signs of pregnancy were barely there, this couldn’t be happening. It didn’t feel real, watching your single trusted handmaiden wrap the babe in cloth and take it away. It didn’t make sense; you hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary to cause this. 

There were no signs of pregnancy in the past months. No growing belly or swelling feet to accompany all of the other king list of ailments that came with being with child. This was cryptic and it needed to remain that way, no matter how much pain you were in. 

There were far too many things to take into account. You failed to birth a child, the one thing women are praised for in this realm, and you couldn’t do it. If the council discovered the truth, they may have your marriage annulled and you discarded. What is a queen’s worth if she cannot produce heirs? What is a wife’s worth if she cannot produce a family for her husband? In this world you would be seen as no better than a whore. 

Thus, you distanced yourself from him entirely. You would mourn alone, sleep alone and heal alone. If you told him only worse could come from it and you simply couldn’t handle it. The hours turned into days, days into weeks and weeks into one month since you laid with your husband… It was past time you ventured outside of your chambers. 

____________________________________

When you had first met, Aegon believed your love was one that could withstand any dissension. However, it was becoming increasingly clear he was wrong. Very few people in this world loved the king, a surprising fact considering he was THE king. You were the first to show him true love and probably the last… Slowly but surely his insecurities were becoming all consuming. The feeling of his heart being gutted out increasing by the hour. 

What had he done to scorn you so? Ever since you wed, he had changed his behavior, became a better son, a more dutiful king and adoring husband. Mayhaps he should have reached out to you more but how could he when you were so determined to be alone? Aegon had his downfalls but surely it wasn’t so bad you stopped loving him. Was it?  

He forced you to attend supper, alone… You sat at the far-left end of the table, as far from your husband as you could. The table was set with luxurious food from across the realm, none of which interested you, all of which made you nauseous. It was eerily silent; the only sound being made was Aegon’s silverware hitting the plate. 

He was detached from this dinner, his mind was elsewhere, somewhere, anywhere but here. His eyes remained fixated on his food attempting to ignore the tension between him and you. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed the growing distance, the refusal to share a bed with him, the constant look of apathy plastered on your face at all times. You were growing to hate him, and it became increasingly clear every day… 

It was a miserable affair. Occasionally he glanced up from his plate and your eyes would meet. He gave a small smile and nod, which would be met with a faux smile on your part. Your plate remained empty; you remained almost completely still as if completely disassociated from the world around you. It was harrowing, watching his wife lose all interest in him. It didn’t matter what he did, you remained in constant dismay. 

“Is something bothering you?” He sighed, dropping his fork on his plate and gazing into you. “Nothing is bothering me, your grace. Is something bothering you?” He raised his eyebrows, sinking back into his chair. You’ve never referred to him as your grace let alone any formal titles. “You’re deflecting.”

“If I was deflecting, I would have changed the conversation.” You spoke in an irritated tone, avoiding all eye contact. Perhaps you truly did not love him anymore, he thought to himself. 

Aegon's eyes hardened, his lips thinned. He stared at you for a few moments, before he slammed his hand down on the table, making dishes clatter together.

"Yes, something is troubling me!" He shouted. This was the first time he ever raised his voice to you in your entire marriage. "For the past few weeks, you've barely spoken a word to me. I have tried to start countless conversations with you, but they all go nowhere. You refuse to share a bed with me, you refuse to accompany me to meetings…” 

You stood up from your seat, tears beginning to form at the corner of your eyes. “I? For weeks I tried to lay with you, to comfort you, but you refused my affection at all times and swat me away like a fly,” you shouted. Aegon's nostrils flared, and he clenched his fists on the table. ”Oh? And what sort of 'affection' do you expect me to give you when you're laying here like a corpse! Sulking about the entire keep like a ghost!" His throat caught, and he took a few seconds to breathe to hold it in, but his eyes were red, rimmed with tears. 

“You don’t care at all do you?” You yelled, fingers shakily gripping the edge of the table to keep your balance. "No, I don't care!” A deafening silence fell across the room. You stopped crying, regained your composure. “I believe it is time for me to go to bed. Goodnight, your grace.” You walked out of the room calmly, ignoring the hurricane of emotions in your heart. 

Shit

“Wait!” Aegon made chase, but you picked up your speed. “Leave me alone!” You lifted your dress so you would not trip as you made a dash to your chambers. “No!” The sounds of your voices carried through the keep as he chased you down. The guards and select nobles watched the chase in shock, disapproval and embarrassment for you both. 

Your feet scurried across the floor, tears freely flowing from your face. You ripped the door to your chambers open, flinging yourself inside to try to escape him. As you tried to will the door shut his body slammed against it, throwing you back. Aegon forced himself inside, slamming and locking it behind him. You stared at him, too heartbroken and angry to speak. He panted, “no more. No more running. We’re going to have this out.” 

You turned to walk away, further into your chambers. Aegon grabbed you by the wrist, surprisingly gently. "Please, stop hiding," he spoke between breaths. "Every day I have not had a moment's peace since you’ve gone away. Every night I have not slept because you are not there. I- I’m sorry I raised my voice, I’m sorry I did not pay you enough attention. I’m sorry for whatever sin I have committed to drive you away.” 

You turned to face him, tears streaming down his face, cherub cheeks painted a soft hue of red. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t live not knowing if you still love me.” His words broke you, reopened the wound your lost child left. You loved him, you loved him more than anyone in this realm. "I had a miscarriage," you whispered. "I didn't know how to tell you.” 

“W-what?” Aegon was confused, ceasing all of his movements the second you uttered the words. You began to sniffle, guilt eating away at your heart. “I- I didn’t know I was with child. It happened so suddenly and I- I” You couldn’t finish your sentence between the sobs. He pulled you close, burying your face in his chest, “i-i’m sorry. I’m sorry” you wailed like a newborn babe. 

“Shhh, don’t say sorry.” He pushed down his feelings of regret to comfort you. “I should have been there. You should have never gone through that alone.” Aegon held you tightly as you cried, tears streaming down his own face. He murmured soothing words in your ear and stroked your hair until your sobs subsided. Finally, you lifted your head and looked into his eyes. They were filled with love, concern, and a hint of fear. "I still love you," you said softly. "More than anything."

Relief flooded his face, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of the past, present, and future. It was a kiss full of forgiveness, love, and hope. When the kiss ended, Aegon brushed a strand of hair from your face and smiled. "We can make another babe if you’d like." His poorly timed inappropriate jests normally fell flat but to his surprise and enjoyment, you laughed. it was a happy, pure laugh, the kind that he hadn't heard in a long time.

#aegon targaryen #aegon fic #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon angst #aegon fluff #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon ii angst #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fic

[lovelykhaleesiii]

My Best Girl

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Best Friend's Dad!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,200.

SUMMARY: Your best friend from University, had been begging all year long for you to join her back in her home town to spend the holidays with her family. Being the loyal friend you are, you thought it would be the decent thing to do...

WARNINGS: age-gap implies (consensual & legal, reader is 18+, Jahaera aged up), innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, Daddy kink, p in v sexual intercourse, edging, cream pie, breeding kink (if you squint), slight dub-con, thigh riding implied, jealous!aegon, possessive!aegon, swearing.

A/N - thanks to the wonderful, talented, beautiful @valeskafics who planted this AU in my head... I have plunged deep into a dilf!Aegon rot. ily bby xx

You had no intention of ever sparking a relationship over the holiday period, let alone with an older man... That just so happened to be your best friend's father.

Jaheara Targaryen, you had fondly grown acquainted with over your undergraduate semesters in University: so enraptured by each other, she practically was begging for you to join her over the holiday period: saving you from spending a lonesome, seldom time alone on campus.

The moment you laid eyes on her beloved father, Aegon Targaryen, you felt your heart beat halt, breath hitched in your throat, and a rather odd yearning ignited between the sweet spot between your thighs.

He was a rather handsome man, you could no deny: his unique features had softened with adipose, yet his age had shown, along with whatever hardships he had faced. Scarring across his brow, beneath his eye socket, and yet he exuded a formidable presence, it somewhat intimidated you.

You struggled to even maintain eye contact, doe eyes constantly fluttering from the larger man before you, to your scuttling feet, before Jahaera dragged you away into the privacy of her own room.

You subtly attempted to pry, asking singular questions about her father, in which Jahaera would mindlessly respond with a swift response.

A divorcee, his relationship with Jahaera's biological mother had been tense from the beginning, incompatible. She did disclose he had many flings, occupied with one night stands and frequented by regular women of the neighbourhood, yet did not dare to settle, for whatever reason.

That is until, you had mindlessly wandered off venturing the opulent double-storey, before abruptly being surprised by Aegon's presence in the kitchen during the later hours of the night.

"And what might a pretty girl like you be doing wandering in the dark, hmm?"

Your mind rushing with fleeting, blank thoughts, moments later you found yourself being effortlessly lifted onto the counter top, rutting your aching, soaked cunt against his sturdy, meaty thigh, before he would taunt and tease your silky folds with his tip. Burying his dense girth inside of you, stretching your walls like no man has ever.

Since that surreal night, awake the next few days as if you lived through a vivid, fever dream: your relationship blossomed with your best friend's father, in discrete.

Aegon relished in how flustered and bothered you get, even with the faintest motions, such as close proximity, his overpowering musky scent intoxicating you with each inhale: making you weak in the knees, and butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

Regardless, of the age difference you both shared similar interests in films, attitudes and romance.

Aegon devoured your innocence: despite having been in previous relationships, your innocence in trusting him to take the lead, to protect you and be intimate with you, reinforced his belief in you.

He took you seriously from the beginning: having the decency to not treat you like some mindless, young fling.

Your vulnerability towards him, drove him mad: as he felt a responsibility towards you.

In return, you favored his wisdom, with life and in the bed. He taught you how to really please a man.

He would often praise you: admiring your beauty, your intelligence and demeanor. Although, in the end he was somewhat of a youth, relishing in teasing you, making logic cease as he fucked you senseless.

"My good, little whore so greedy for a Daddy, she took her best friend's, huh? Daddy's gonna have to punish you for that little stunt. Thinking you can come in here looking fucking ravenous."

Regardless of Aegon's intent to care, his sex and affections were rough. Manhandling you, spanking you till your cheeks remained red and raw with tenderness for days [certain his handprint was strewn across your flesh], gripping and pulling your hair with such force. He needed to instil some fear, a mutual understanding as he preferred to call it, that you could not go anywhere now without his knowledge.

When you both weren’t being intimate, he enjoyed our company, having you mount and straddle his thigh and lap. Watching him attend to work, answering phone calls, getting so riled up when he was arguing with his correspondents. You had come to realise, Aegon had a rather quick and fierce temper.

Many times, Jaehaera pleaded and fought with her father to take you out to the local city clubs both in the company of her hometown friend [males present] and without, and time after time, he stubbornly denied the two of you from leaving the premises.

Overtime, he refused the idea of you having male companions and friends.

“I know what boys are like at that age baby, they don’t want to be just friends… You’re mine now, and I don’t like to share.”

Jahaera frustrated and uncertain of his motive would excuse herself, and recluse in her room, leaving you pampered and dolled up for Aegon's own undoing.

He enjoyed watching you from afar pampering yourself: "dolling yourself up for Daddy, baby? Always lookin' so beautiful, I need to keep you running around her for my own viewing."

The moment the word slipped your vile tongue, was the moment something snapped in Aegon, that made him cement his feelings for you... Daddy.

He favored the moment, demanding you obey his every command, moaning heavy breaths for you to repeat yourself in a constant loop, directly into his ear.

He wanted you to acknowledge him as almost your savior. Considering him almost god-like which, you faintly had.

Another niche about your elder boyfriend: he purely enjoyed in fucking you raw, no protection, as he craved to feel you.

"Baby this ain't my first rodeo, I'll pull out okay. I'll get you the pill if I have to--"

"Good cause I still have two years to go, and I don't think J-Jahaera would appreciate this-"

"But your already such a slut for me, taking me so fucking well and perfect, she brought you on a platter for me, knowing damn well I couldn't resist... Surely?!"

Regardless, Aegon's attempts at hiding the affair would occasionally plunder: sending you "anonymous" gifts through the mail, of wealthy jewels, the finest material of laundrette and perfumes.

Countless times Jahaera poorly attempted to pry the truth from your sealed lips: she knew that you were seeing someone, just not who...

When it came to returning to campus: you would often exchange raunchy pictures: Aegon was poorly tech-savy in comparison to you: so a dick pic and video at most, was all he could provide.

You however, thrived off online. Sending him nude pics of yourself [this was a first], only to be showered with compliments, before Aegon would request to video call you: jerking himself feverishly as he ached to feel your tight walls swallowing his dick.

You nearly got caught by Jahaera, lurking his social media and the texts, before coming up with a reasonable excuse.

You would be the first to say "I love you" hesitant and all, Aegon however, had no shame to admit it. The words fell naturally off of his plump lips.

And so, Aegon's intent with you surpassed the theatrics of his previous licentious behaviours. He is obsessed with you!

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

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

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon ii imagine #aegon ii imagines #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x fem!reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd fanfic #hotd fanction. #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii angst #best!friend!dad!Aegon ii x fem!reader #jahaera targaryen

[targaryen-vigilante-wizard-jedi]

WITH EYES LIKE MINE

House of the Dragon Female TargaryenReader Insert

Chapter warnings- Menstruation, more of a filler chapter.

Chapter 10 - Blood Is Spilt

_________

121AC

Y/N sat lonesome in the courtyard, her gaze directed towards her bandaged hands that were, underneath the fabric, littered in scratches and cuts - all self-inflicted.

She had developed her mother's habit of picking her fingers and worsened it, not purposely so. The girl hadn't even realised just how violent her skin picking had become in the last year until her brother, Aemond, had caught sight of her maimed and bloodied hands the night prior. Without notifying anyone else, he swiftly cleansed her wounds and bandaged her hands to help heal them and prevent her from doing it again.

Another body seated themselves beside her, and she gave a quick glance to see that Helaena had sat by her side.

Y/N offered her a sad but sincere smile knowing what was to happen tomorrow.

Helaena looked somewhat glum, her eyes trailing towards a millipede crawling through the soil.

"Perhaps it won't be so bad." Y/N offered quietly, despite knowing that what she had said was lies. Aegon had always taunted and teased Helaena for being different. He had even openly bashed his sister and rejected the idea of their marriage to his mother, earning himself a bruised cheek.

"Aegon does not like me." The older of the two girls retorted quietly, her voice rather nonchalant.

Y/N tutted and kicked her foot into some dirt beside the bench she sat on.

"I do not think Aegon likes anyone these days, sister." Came Y/N's rebuttal, but it provided Helaena with no comfort or satisfaction.

Aegon was never there, and when he was, he was never sober. It was a horrible thing to witness, her two siblings being forced into a marriage that would only prohibit any chance at happiness for either of them.

The eldest of the King's sons had spiralled out of control and slightly wavered from his mother's grasp, frequenting the street of silk nightly and never loosening his wine filled cups.

Their family customs were not something that Y/N had agreed with. Her mother had called it 'disgusting' and 'immoral', but now she was wedding her son to his twin sister. Y/N did not fail to see the hypocrisy.

"He likes you... as many do." Helaena's voice was quiet as she spoke, causing Y/N to cast her gaze towards her older sister. "I'm not so sure about that." the younger girl couldn't help but roll her eyes at Helaena's words.

Helaena was silent and still for a moment before her hand found Y/N's, gently squeezing it.

Y/N glanced towards their joined hands before looking at her sister's face.

The older girl's lower lip trembled slightly as though holding Y/N's hand was bringing her pain as well as comfort.

"I am glad it was me rather than you." Helaena kept her gaze towards the ground as she spoke, finding the words difficult to speak through the imagery in her head. She found herself unable to maintain eye contact with her sister; she feared what visions she would endure.

Y/N felt a breath catch in her throat at her sister's words. With a sudden inability to speak, she opted for squeezing Helena's hand, an unwanted guilt finding its way into her thoughts.

________

The wedding of Prince Aegon II and Princess Helaena Targaryen was a solemn occasion, rather than a joyous one.

Helaena sat silent, her head directed to the table as she murmured incoherently to herself.

Aegon had tried to take his leave early but was unfortunately caught by the hand of the King, promptly punished with a quick hand to the face before being led back to the banquet in honour of his wedding.

The fifteen year old boy sat, his eyes red and glazed over as the alcohol allowed him to wallow further in his own despair and helplessness.

Y/N and Aemond both sat silently through the ordeal, but the girl couldn't help the thoughts plaguing her mind.

Did mother intend to wed Aemond and I to one another?

She was more than sure that no such thing could take place since she wouldn't be able to continue their bloodline but she found that her gaze had wandered to Aemond only to find that his eye was already on her. She leaned back into her seat before allowing her eyes to survey the crowd feasting; men of all ages surrendered their eyes to her lilac-pink gaze, none hiding their lust for power.

Any one of them could be her future husband but none repulsed her as much as the thought of marrying her own blood.

Her mother had driven it into her head that it was a sin to the Old Gods and new, to commit such a crime as marrying your own kin.

Her mother had forced her eldest children to commit the very thing that disgusted and disturbed her.

Y/N's eyes then fell on Aegon's defeated and depressed face, a drunken giggle escaping his lips as he laughed at his own miserable fate, swirling the wine in his cup as though he were entranced by the ripples it caused.

Despite their interactions having decreased over the year, Y/N's concern for her eldest brother only continued to grow, especially when he'd begun to disappear into Flea Bottom for days on end.

Without asking for her mother or father's approval, she stood from the table, so many male gazes still focused on her every move.

Inhaling deeply, she turned her gaze to incredibly inebriated Aegon, whose gaze was still focused on the wine in his cup.

Just as he had done for her the year prior, she walked over to him, her steps slow and light so as not to draw too much attention to herself.

Her hand gently clasped his, her fingers touching the coolness of the cup in his clutch. "Aegon," her voice was quiet and polite, far different from what she used to be.

Aegon's glazed over eyes flickered towards her and he over-enthusiastically smiled at her. "It appears my favourite sibling has come to celebrate such a monumentous occasion with me." His other hand reached over and placed itself over her free one.

"Come, sit with me, my lovely sister. " He tried to pull her down to his level, uncaring of the absence of a seat next to him.

She kneeled so she was eye level with him and pulled her hand from his in order to place it over the cup he still held.

"I think you've had enough, brother." Aemond interjected from behind Y/N. His voice, a little deeper and sterner, than it had been a year ago.

Y/N briefly glanced at him, grateful that he had come to her aid.

Aegon slightly scoffed when he heard his brothers voice. "Of course you'd be skulking not too far behind her. You're worse than the knight."

He was, of course, referring to Ser Criston. It wasn't exactly the guards fault, though. He had been ordered by the Queen to keep an eye on Y/N and he'd never refuse an order from his Queen again, not after Driftmark.

"I pray your barrenness spares you this fate, sister. Especially with the likes of him." Aegon glared at Aemond before wrenching his hand from Y/N's and drinking from his cup.

Y/N stood a moment longer, her mind running circles around his words and the cold, uncaring nature of them.

Without so much as a word or glance to either one of her brothers, she retreated to her seat and sat silently.

Aemond lingered a moment longer, watching Aegon drink the rest of the liquid in his cup without a care in the world.

___________

123AC

"A girl and a boy, a difficult but worthy birth indeed," a voice came from within the room just as Y/N was allowed entrance.

Whimpers and cries filled the room. Some belonged to Helaena, who was still suffering the brutal aftermath of the birth. "You have done so well, Helaena." Alicent praised before grasping her eldest daughter's clammy hand and pressing a kiss to it.

The babes were held in the arms of two wet nurses, who had allowed the children to feed at their bosom.

As Y/N looked at the children, she didn't know what to feel, and as selfish as it was, she could only think about how she had been denied the opportunity to experience the joys and difficulties of motherhood.

Her body may have been spared the pain of the birthing bed, but her heart would forever have a hole. Without so much as a word to her mother or sister, she left the room.

Helaena's exhausted expression turned to one of slight confusion as she called her sister's name quietly.

_________

Quiet sobs and cries left the youngest daughter's lips as she thought of her future; perhaps husbandless, dragonless and childless.

The Gods had been cruel when they gifted her the name Targaryen. To have her suffer in such ways that her suffering would never cease.

The guard outside her door stood still listening to the Princess' cries as he often did.

Soon, she would sleep, and he, too, would sleep until he returned to his post in time to hear her wake with a scream.

Her dreams were different, still frightening but different. The man was still there every night, as were the sounds of dragons roaring, the smell of burnt lands, scorched flesh.

"The blood of Old Valyria is spilt." His voice bellowed, figure still masked by shadows. "The age of dragons will end with us and only us."

Y/N woke up, sweat trickling down her face. She had no time to focus on the clamminess of her face as she felt a horrible stickiness between her legs and under her buttocks.

"What?" She murmured softly to herself before removing the covering from over her body.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the frighteningly large and irregular patch of blood staining her sheets and legs.

"Princess, have you woken?" A voice came from behind the door and before she could react, two servants entered the room, in their hands were towels, an outfit, scrubbing salts and oils.

"The Queen has organised this outfit for you, Prin-" a loud gasp of horror left the first servant as her eyes landed on the bloody mess on the sheets.

The second servant, quickly and quietly left, in a hurry to inform the Queen.

Having seen the servant leave in such a hurry, Ser Criston took it upon himself to enter the room but as soon as he did he turned on his heel and exited.

The troubles of womanhood were something he wanted no part in.

The remaining servant made her way towards the visibly troubled princess and grasped her gently by the shoulders and away from the bed.

Her hands guided her toward the black armchair near the fireplace.

"It is alright, m'lady. It is only your first blood, you've grown into a woman."

At that sentence, Y/N shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "No, please. Do not tell my mother." She pleaded, eyes watering and body beginning to shake at the thought of being forced into an unwanted marriage.

Y/N already knew what it meant when a girl had her first blood; her body was ready to produce heirs but hers was not, never would be. So what was happening to her?

The Queen entered the room and immediately made her way over to her distraught daughter.

"Hush, my girl. You're almost a woman grown." Alicent's hand held her face before the other made its way to her forehead, seemingly checking for a temperature.

"Wet towel." She called to the two servants who scrambled to procure the requested item.

"My Queen." One of the girls spoke before handing the Queen the wet towel. The maids and servants had learned that the Queen had a more hands-on approach than most women of her status would (or should), especially after the events of Driftmark.

"Ssh, let us get you dressed, my sweet."

__________

It wasn't long after that the news of Y/N having her first blood reached the ears of everyone, including her father and siblings.

"My girl, soon to be a woman." Viserys praised, his smile was proud and his hand clutched his cane, the other stroked her cheek affectionately.

Y/N did not react to his touch, instead keeping her gaze to the floor. She could count the direct interactions her father had with her in the past year on one hand; their relationship strained far more than any other.

Aemond only continued to stare at her, his eyes taking notice of the changes in her face and her body. She had grown too.

He found his eye lingering on her far longer than it should have.

Aegon had heard the news but did not congratulate nor mention it to her. Instead, he raced off to the Street of Silk, as he so often did those days. Things had changed too much too quickly for him. He was a boy of sixteen and already had children that he never wanted.

"This is wonderful news, sire." At the new voice Y/N's eyes moved to look for the source of the voice and her lips turned down slightly at the sight of the Hand, Otto, stepping forward.

A phantom pain rose in her cheek and she unconsciously flinched; the memory of her grandsire's hand smacking her cheek in her mind.

Aemond was no fool, though he had never suffered at the hands of the King's Hand, he knew his older brother and youngest sister both had and it infuriated him to know such a fact.

Otto approached the King, his mind scheming once again.

"Perhaps it is time to consider the potential candidates for the young Princess' hand." Otto wore a smile on his face, a sickly sweet one; it was like that of a dog baring its teeth.

Viserys' eyes wandered over his youngest daughter, and he found himself reminiscing of his eldest daughter, of how he had allowed her freedom and failed in doing so with Helaena.

He nor anyone would deny that she had already gone through so much at such a young age and so he gave a curt shake of the head before speaking.

"We needn't rush these things, Otto." At her fathers words, Y/N gave him an appreciative nod, a slight smile on her lips.

"She still has some years to enjoy being a child, let us speak of this matter in the future."

Her fathers words drew a smile from her lips and she let her eyes rest on him.

The King released a heavy breath, her eyes having the same strong effect on him even then, that they had had from the day she was born.

In return, he too smiled at her.

[Not the best chapter. I have had severe writers block for so long so really struggled to finish this one so I know people will have lost interest. I think either next chapter or the one afterwards will be when further into the future. I was going to do it in this chapter but it felt like way too much of a jump.]

#aegon ii angst #aemond x reader #fanfiction #hotd x you #king viserys #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #helaena targaryen #targaryen reader #angst #ser criston cole #dragons #despair #death #jaecerys velaryon #series #house of the dragon #targaryen #velaryon #dark

[dulcewrites]

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back (modern au)

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)

Summary: Sometimes Aegon is sure that the Gods like playing tricks on him. Your reintroduction into his life only proves that further

A/N: the time has come for my Aegon work!! I’m so excited because this also my first time doing an modern au. I explained the idea more here. This will include all the hotd hits: mommy issues, daddy issues, the Targs being an all around messy family. This is my contribution to the tgc Aegon universe 🫡. Slight house keeping: Aemond has both of his eyes in this universe but the sight in one eye is diminishing/has been diminished over the years. Also there are certain elements I will be taking from hotd/asoiaf and the Faith of the Seven is one.

Blog masterlist

You had always assumed that therapist offices would be sterile and cold. Or at the very least, annoyingly put together.

Cregan Stark’s office is nothing of the sort.

From deep red floors to the walls of antic books and shelves filled of knickknacks. The office is not what you expected to it be. It only makes you more anxious for this whole ordeal. The only indication of his credentials as a professional being the certificate from the University of Cambridge hanging on the wall. Even the laidback nature of him made you pause. Call me Cregan. Mr. Stark was my father.

Long brown hair pulled back, dark beard, stormy grey eyes, topped off with a flowy button-down shirt. He looks better suited chopping down wood somewhere than helping university students. Everyone seemed weary of the new addition to the dance department.

Your eyes flutter to the clock behind him then back to his warm eyes.

“I am sure you are wondering why I wanted to speak with you,” his voice is soft. There is an element of mirth that has you raising a brow.

You shrug in response. “Taking inventory of the inmates, I assume.”

The joke does seem not seem to land the way you thought it would. He gives you a incredulous look before shaking his head. Your mother always told you that your inability to keep to certain thoughts in your head would get you in trouble sooner or later.

“My new position here is to help the dancers, especially ones transitioning out of school, handle this year,” he begins. “A sounding board if you will. Listen to any problems. Assist with finding resources and opportunities beyond this point.”

You nod slowly, still not understanding why this meeting is cutting into your warmup time. Instinctively, you point then flex your foot in your fuzzy black boot. Your eyes go back to the clock. Gods, Aemond is going to tear into you if this does not wrap up soon.

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

“Most of the notes were positive,” he replies quickly, reading the furrow in your brow. “Bright, hard-working, and diligent were just a few things said.”

You let a breath you were holding in. Of course, that was what was said. You have dedicated your life to this; you expect nothing less than comments like that. They are sentiments you should not think but you know you are one of the most talented dancers in the program.

But then your mind drifts to something.

“Most?”

He gives you a pained smile. “There were a couple of comments that expressed concern about your… intensity and your health.”

You blink blankly at him.

“I don’t think I am any more intense than any other student here. We are all very serious about our art.”

Cregan nods. “I was informed about an incident that happened in your second term here. Something quite awful.”

Your blood runs cold, and you sniff stiffly in response. Please don’t you think.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

You try to keep your eye from twitching. There was a time in your life where all you wanted was someone to tell you that. To let you know that they feel bad for the situation you found yourself wallowing in… for the situation Marina found herself in.

That time is over.

“It has been over a year and a half,” you plaster on a smile. “Thank you for that, but I am doing fine.”

It was not lie. It really wasn’t.

Cregan hums softly. “Why don’t you and I make a deal. We meet each other once a week for the rest of the term. We can talk about how you are doing, and work towards you graduating.”

You feel your patience wearing horribly thin. It is not that you have a problem with therapy or counseling. You just don’t need it nor want it.

“Look, I appreciate the concern. I just don’t have time for weekly meetings. I have auditions for companies, finishing my classes strong. Also, an end of the year project… which is not going well so far.”

Your eyes go back to clock above him. You are so fucked.

“I do not have the time,” you repeat, not even clarifying if you mean for the meetings or this conversation. “I have too much on my plate.”

Cregan smiles, easy and cool. It softens the sternness that has settled into his long face.

“That is exactly why we need to do it.”

A sinking feeling gathers in your stomach. He is not going to take no for an answer, is he?

As you leave the room, new schedule in hand, all you can think about is how much you despise Cregan Stark. Your ire extends to whatever instructor told him you needed help in the first place. The walk to the practice studios is cold and damp. Somber weather matching the way you feel.

You must take a deep breath before going into the practice room. Aemond, perched at the piano, shoots you a glare. Ignoring his eyes burning into your back, you sit on the floor to put on your pointe shoes.

“I know you have little care for my time,” his voice cut through the room. Low and condescending. “But if you want to get through this, the least you can do is show up on time.”

You do not answer immediately, eyes focused on your shoes.

“It is just common sense.”

Aemond continues to lecture you about the importance of respecting people’s time. Perhaps if you told him about your meeting, he would let it go. But then again based off the few weeks you have spent with him, you know once he gets started, it is hard to stop him. His voice fades in the background as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

In your head, you repeat the affirmations you recite every morning.

You are talented, you are grounded, you are alive.

Aegon could not help but stare at the rain as it fell and splintered on the large class windows of the meeting room.

When he was younger, he hated the rain. The endless rolling clouds and damp days made him feel like he was in a bad nightmare. But the older he got, the more he started to appreciate the rain. Utterly soothed by the tip tap of rain against something solid. He could make a melody out of it. Plus, it helped him sleep.

He rarely got good nights of sleep.

The somber weather only added to the uninspiring atmosphere in the room. Aegon tried hard to listen. He fought hard to keep his eyes from glazing over. Placing fonder thoughts in his head kept him from outwardly expressing his boredom. Today, he thought of what he should get to dinner. Something hearty… or maybe something spicy. The thoughts lead to him texting his brother.

I can drive up. Want that Thai place around the corner from yr place

It took Aemond minutes to reply, but when he did it was a simple no. His brother was always a man of few words.

I’ll pay :)

He watched as the dots appear then disappear then reappear again. Aegon smiles at his phone when Aemond eventually says yes. He gives Aegon strict instructions to stay in the car and wait on him to come out.

“Aegon, are you listening?”

Aegon’s eyes shoot up from his phone to meet one that resembles his too much for comfort. Rhaenyra is eyeing him exasperated. There was slight tension at the beginning of the meeting when he gave her a funny look after she sat in the seat their father normally does. But he had no interest in arguing with Rhaenyra, at least not today.

“Yes, I hear you,” he clears his throat, and rubs one of his eyes.

“Long night?”

The smile is there when she says it but the words are condescending. Her smile works on others, but Aegon knows what lies beneath it. Such a delight to work with, Viserys would beam. Everything was easy when her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips go lopsided in a good-natured way. Aegon knows she must that to survive in this environment. Mask all her slender and confidence with smiles. He would respect it more if she did not try to play him like she does the other men in the firm.

Like he is one of father’s mindless cronies.

They share the same blood. Which means he knows they are both predisposed to thinking they know best by nature.

“I want to talk about reconsidering the pro bono option,” ok, maybe he does want an argument. Bothering Rhaenyra sparked a unique kind of joy in Aegon.

Rhaenyra’s brows furrow. Their brains had been hardwired differently by now; her business-oriented ideals sometimes working in direct contrast with the direction he thinks the firm should go in.

“I think the idea is one we should consider,” Tyland Lannister pipes up, voice chipper and full of mirth.

Rhaenyra’s gaze turns to him, completely unimpressed. Aegon had to bite back a smile. Tyland had a habit of siding with Aegon in meetings like this. The Lannisters, a family that has dipped their foot in any lucrative business they could find, not only had a history with Targaryens, but with the Hightowers as well. Rhaenyra had expressed to their father how much it bothered her. All she received was a wave of the hand; for all the special treatment he felt Viserys gave his eldest child, Aegon can say Viserys has never been good at laying down the law within the firm.

How he managed to run the company with that attitude was beyond Aegon.

With the slight support of Tyland, a couple of the other suits in the room nodded in agreement. Rhaenyra swallows, eyes shifting back to Aegon’s. When his sister is upset, he has noticed her eyes shift to a chill blue to a tempered iris.

She looks at him with a look that Aegon could only describe as pure exhaustion. The type of exhaustion that happens when you deeply resent someone. Somewhere down the line they took a sharp turn right, and never got back on track.

The irony of the distance between them, is that it was not always like that. His first memories of life are not with his mother, father, or even with the siblings he grew up in the same household with; they are with Rhaenyra. He has fuzzy recollections of teenage her blowing raspberries on his belly when he was a baby. They used to share knowing glances when their father went on tangents. She used to take him on trips to the park. Now Aegon finds himself wondering what things Rhaenyra whispers in Viserys’ ear when he is not around.

Maybe that was the last time Rhaenyra genuinely liked him. When he was younger with no motives or true thoughts of his own. He supposed he can’t blame her; that was the last time he liked being in his own body too.

There are times he looks at his sister, and he wants her to bring him into a hug. Rhaenyra always gave the best hugs, only rivaled by his mom. He wants to burst into tears and tell her that she was his first friend. That he needed her years ago. But then he remembers the look of disbelief he received when Viserys said Aegon would be working for the firm.

The coldness is better. His heart doesn’t break multiple times over anymore.

“Aegon and I can discuss that later,” Rhaenyra says after a minute. She stands to leave. “This meeting is over.”

She’s frustrated. He can tell by the way she leaves the room without a single glance his way. One thing they do have in common is the bone-chilling urge to flee a place whenever things get too difficult or when they get too annoyed. Could be self-preservation. Could be them sparring others the anger Targaryens are known for.

Aegon sits for a moment as everyone else filters out of the room. The rain comes down harder against the windows. He closes his eyes listening to way it bangs against the building.

Tip tap tip tap

He identifies with the rain. Moody, surly, gloomy.

———

By the time Aegon packs up to leave for Aemond, the rain had stopped. The clouds clearing out as the light leaves the sky.

He lets the top down on his car. The cool air nips at his tip of his nose and cheeks. It burns in the best way. Aegon sits at the front of the building that he knows Aemond will be in. He sits patiently for minutes, but then curiosity and impatience take over.

Whenever he is on the campus, he can’t help but want to take it all in. Look at all the buildings he can. Explore as if he was child again. He always thought it would be him to follow in his mother’s footsteps coming here, instead it was Aemond. He tries not to let the scratching bitterness work its way up his throat whenever they go home. The way Alicent frets and gushes over Aemond holds a special place in brain.

Her sweet, talented boy

He still does not know if she says it in front of him on purpose or by accident.

The building was nothing like the firm. Warm wood opposed to the glass and shiny metal he was used to. It was easy to know where Aemond would be, most of the lights in rooms dimmed except for one at the end of the hall.

He follows the piano he can hear faintly. Even though they are brothers, Aegon often feels like he is encroaching on something deeply personal when he hears Aemond play. Like he was hearing a part of Aemond he kept hidden from world. It made him peak in the room versus walking straight in.

He sees Aemond, eyes closed, playing a melody he does not recognize. It’s beautiful. But that is nothing out of the ordinary for Aemond.

Before he can finally make his presences known, a pair of legs obstruct his view. A graceful turn, followed by an acrobatic leap. All Aegon can is stare in slight awe, but he can’t help his mind from drifting to his mother. It reminds him of the black and white photos of her hanging in the foyer of their family home. Or the old videos of she used to show them when they were little.

He doesn’t know what he misses more - being that young or when Alicent wanted to share those things with them.

Before Aegon can finally walk in, the dancer stops abruptly turning to Aemond.

“Hmmmm,” she hums lowly. “I’m just not feeling it.”

Aemond lets out a guttural groan in response. He stands from the piano, roughly closing the top.

“You have not ‘felt’ the last two things I have composed.”

The dancer shrugs, not fazed by Aemond’s temperament. “Nothing has inspired me yet.”

He mumbled something under his breath, and Aegon watches as a head full of hair pulled pack in a ponytail snap back to his brother.

“What was that?”

Aegon knows that tone well. Him and Helaena would use it often when Aemond did that. They both hated when he would mumble under his breath. It always led to arguments that Alicent would have to break up. Aemond starts to gather the music sheets on the piano.

“Could be your tired routine that has everything feeling uninspired,” Aemond says louder.

“Oh please,” there is something so oddly familiar about the voice as it rings out. The insults don’t match the clear and sprite like nature of it. “If anything is tired, it is the cheap Rachmaninoff imitations you keep composing.”

“Gods, you’re such a….”

“Awe, what am I Aemond,” she doesn’t miss a beat. “tell me, so then I can tell you what you are. Because trust me if you think calling me a bitch is going to hurt my feelings, you should hear what people say about you.”

It makes Aemond falter. Aegon knows that deposited the tough face his brother puts on; he gets bogged down with what others think and expect of him. Aegon decides that maybe he should step in now.

“I think you both looked and sounded great,” he winced as soon as the words came out. His voice loudly ranges through the studio. Not entirely the smooth entrance it should have been. Aemond’s eyes shoot to Aegon; he seems to be getting that angry look from all his siblings lately.

Aegon freezes when his gaze meets big eyes staring at him incredulously. He recognizes the gentle slope of her nose, and the softness of her pretty face.

“Oh, fuck me.”

Aegon has a special talent for being foolishly. A knack for being numbingly unintelligent when it comes to feelings. At least that is what Daeron tells him.

“For someone so bright in other ways, you can be real stupid.”

But managing to include himself in the mess that is Aemond’s university life must be a new kind of low. This must be the Gods punishing him. The false promises he dishes out to women coming to finally bite him in the ass.

Her eyes go from Aegon to Aemond, then back to Aegon before she left out a chuckle of disbelief. “My life must be joke.”

Aegon opens his mouth to say something, but then realizes his mouth is the thing that got in him into this mess in the first place. His mouth on yours, his mouth on you, and his mouth’s ability to say sweet nothings at the drop of a hat. So all he can do is watch as you angrily put on your coat and tear off your dance shoes. While putting on your boots you turn to Aemond.

“Figure your shit out before reaching out to me again,” you hiss at him.

You don’t even spare Aegon another glance as you storm out. Leaving him with just the quick whiff of your sweet perfume.

The two brothers stand there in silence for a moment before Aemond finally speaks.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car?”

The drive to the Thai place was filled with Aemond cutting Aegon off by turning the radio louder and louder. He asks for what happened but seemingly shut down when the implication of what happened became clear.

“So, you fucked my project partner,” he mutters bitterly. “And then completely ghosted her after you promised you wouldn’t. On top lying about your last name.”

Aegon shakes his head, mouth full of tom kha khai. When he says it like that it sounds so awful.

“We did not have sex,” Aegon repeats. Then his shoulders slump. “But yes… we might have done… other stuff and I may have… not called when I said I would.”

Aemond scoffs, picking at his half-eaten curry. The brother bonding not going how Aegon wanted it to.

“I can apologize. I can send flowers.”

“No, absolutely not.” Aemond blanches. “You need to leave her alone. We are already not on the same page, the last thing I need is more issues with her.”

He did have a nice night with you. One of the better ones he can remember. It could why he was so apprehensive to reach out. It was just Aegon’s luck. He manages to fuck things up even when he says he won’t get attached and involved.

“Well, I guess I feel a little bit less bad about what I was going to tell you,” Aemond says, then clears his throat. “Criston asked about you again when we talked.”

Aegon says nothing in return. This dinner was a mistake. He had already had a bad day at work; everything has down spiraled from there.

“I invited him to my recital in a couple of weeks. I just thought I should give you heads-up if you decide to come.”

Aegon shrugs. “It is your recital; you can invite whoever you want.”

“Funny, mother said the same thing,” Aemond smiled, it not reaching his eyes. “I don’t get why you guys must take your feelings out on him. He was nothing but kind to us. Especially to you, he taught you everything you knew about drumming. He didn’t make you go ha-“

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Aegon snaps.

What he really wants is a cold pint or a glass of wine, but he knows the look Aemond will give him if he orders one. Before a head-splitting headache comes on, Aegon asks for the check.

He wants to forget about the dinner. To forget about all the feelings that get stuck is him brain and keep him from functioning the way he wants to. Some nights he dreams about his siblings all being together, their father a distant memory. Other nights, he has nightmares of Alicent’s face contorted in pain and tears. Scared and disappointed.

But tonight, brought something different. Visions of soft lips, and a warm laugh flood his mind. Everything syrupy, and hazy in the best way. Not even Aemond’s words could break the succession of them.

Stay away from her

Aegon has always had trouble doing what he supposed to

#aegon ii angst #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the elder #hotd imagine #hotd angst #hotd fanfic #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x oc #aegon x reader #black!reader #black!oc #modern hotd au #modern hotd #aegon x you #house of the dragon #hotd

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Fifteen

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Hey, besties! Guess who passed their State Board Exams…? ME! I DID! Now, all I gotta do is fill out some paperwork, and I'll be licensed. I've started working already, but it's only three days a week right now, so pretty good! Don't hesitate to comment or ask me questions. I love hearing them and seeing others discuss them. Happy reading, everyone, and let the celebrations commence!

Chapter Warnings: Violence

The celebrations of Aegon's birth had finally arrived. All the Great Houses were expected to come—all but one. The Velaryons and part of the Targaryen faction were not extended an invitation. Rhaenys had taken this as a political slight by Queen Alicent. She was collateral damage in the cold war between Rhaenyra and her old friend. Guilty by association.

Lord Corlys was still fighting for control of the Stepstones and had put his loyal Lady Wife on the Driftwood throne to rule in his stead. The alliance of the Triarchy and House Martell of Dorne was of much concern, and without the aid of the King's fleet, the battle was all but lost. Yet, through it all, the Sea Snake remained on the collection of islands, fighting tooth and nail against those who wished control of his rightful territory.

Princess Rhaenys did not know of your efforts inside the Keep, slowly but surely attempting to send help to the losing battles. The day she was crowned the "Queen Who Never Was" came to mind. She felt abandoned by her cousins, Daemon and Viserys, for refusing to take a stance on the insurgents. Baela was her only solace, her heart missing the pieces her children used to occupy. She would never forgive them if her husband died.

You sat at the exponentially smaller desk in your room, the maids you had yet to become familiar with brushing your silky hair as you read two pieces of parchment.

Jace and your father had sent you letters. Daemons were curt, mentioning nothing about how he missed or thought of you while away. It was as if he was speaking to a fellow warrior, not his daughter. Only ensuring you were still on track with your efforts, wanting to know how far the influence of the Hightowers reached and when to expect words regarding the Stepstones. You ignored him for now, folding it in threes and placing it in the side drawer of your desk as you read your brother's.

"Dear Sister,

Jealousy became me when I bid you farewell a few days ago. I knew what I said was wrong as the words lept from my tongue. I am not proud, and regret has haunted me since. I express my sincerest and deepest apologies.

You have always been open and honest with your emotions, and I wish to do the same. I love you, sissy, despite what my words may have alluded to. You have experienced hardships that no child of that age should witness, and you did not grow to resent your family for it. I cannot say the same for me if something similar happened.

I wish the Queen did not invite you to Kings Landing, not because I am jealous, but because I haven't a clue what I mean to do without you. Father wants me to be strong, like you. He wants me to practice swords like you. He wants me to listen to Mother's audiences like you, but I am not you. I am a boy whose lineage is clouded with stolen kisses and an accidental fire.

I wish you were still here so I could feel your embrace. I do not believe I can handle Daemon for much longer. How have you done it for so long?

The days cannot go fast enough as I await your return. I intend to give you a proper apology once you are home. Perhaps we can spend some time in Aegon the Conqueror's Garden as I grovel? I will arrange a picnic for when I do. I don't want to beg on an empty stomach.

Missing you,

Jacaerys Velaryon, your wretched little brother."

His endearing letter did not help the ache for Dragonstone. A smile burned your cheeks as you rubbed the dry paper between your fingers. You could smell the brimstone on the fibers, the sulfuric scent taking you home.

"My Lady," a servant gained your attention, taking your focus off the sweet words. "The men should be returning from their hunts in the Kingswood soon. I would suggest we start readying you for the tourney later today."

You nodded wordlessly, giving them a tight-lipped smile as you put Jace's letter next to Daemon's. You will be sure to write them both later.

You were confident Jace would love to hear how the tourney went. He had always gravitated toward stories of knights in shining armor valiantly jousting for a lady's favor. He had spoken several times about wanting to participate in the events. That was the only thing that pushed him to pursue the sword, other than your mother's and father's orders.

You could picture your little brother atop a white steed, armor resembling a dragon with a lance in his hand, asking for the favor of one special noble girl. The image brought a genuine grin to your face. Jace was always the gentleman his Mother taught him to be.

You wanted to stand out amongst the crowd of green royals you were sure to be seated with. It was to be your first public appearance since your legitimization, and you had to make an impression. You allowed your ladies to bathe you, and upon your exit from the tub, you requested one to show you the variety of gowns you had brought. Black was always the most innovative option, representing the colors of your House, and there were plenty to choose from, thankfully. It was only a matter of which one.

You decide to help your decision by considering the weather and environment. Most of the gowns you had were thick for the constant chill of Dragonstone and would indeed have you draped over a chair with a fan to cool off despite the changing seasons. That had only left you with a few options, which immensely helped. It had revealed a dress you once deemed too scandalous to wear in your family's presence.

It was not typical Westerosi fashion. Rhaenyra had commissioned a tailor in Dorne to create a gown when you officially became of bedding age.

You could tell it was something she had longed to wear as a girl, a freeing and rebellious design, but etiquette and her position would not allow her to wear such exotic clothing. You did agree with her that it was stunning. The deep plunging 'v' of the neckline certainly accentuated your breasts and made them much more pleasing to the eye as your maids tightened the strings in the back.

The fabric was a combination of red with an overlay of black lace. Golden thread held the seams together, and a matching cape to your shoulders, leaving your arms bare. Pieces of Aurelian were sewn on the shoulder pads of it, looking like crumpled yellow leaves that cascaded down your biceps. A circled belt of silver was delicately snitched around your waist, the excess of the metal resting between your legs.

After you were dressed, the servants ushered you to the vanity, holding the draping fabric so it did not catch as they began to fix your ebony hair. They elected not to put it in its usual braided style, instead rolling and twisting the long strands onto themselves until they reached the base of your head, pinning it to your head. It was simple, and you immensely enjoyed the freedom it gave to your range of motion.

Next, they adorned you with matching jewelry and a delicate headpiece that arched over the crown of your head. A necklace of a curled golden dragon wrapped around the hollow of your throat, a long needlelike chain attached to it as a polished metal fang hung at the end. They then slid a hammered bronze cuff on your wrist and rings of the same color, dragonglass, and rubies for its gems. The ladies applied the final touch of makeup to your skin, a fine powder to rid the shine from your nose, a dusting of rouge, and a hint of rose-colored balm to your lips.

You felt like the Targaryen princesses of centuries past, the blood of old Valeryia pumping your heart.

You would give anything for your Mother to see you now, dressed in the traditional colors of her House. Though you couldn't hide your relief in Daemon not being here, you were sure he would've made you change or barred your door to stop you from escaping in such scandalous garb. You stood, finding the dagger Daemon had gifted you and the belt it was connected with. You hooked it around your waist, adjusting it to be just out of view.

Your servants stared at you in awe, more amazed by their work than you as you grabbed the wreath of black charm lilies and black crystal pansies you requested to give your favor to the knights who asked. You didn't believe any of them would but knew it was proper to have one nonetheless. You smiled at your ladies, conveying your gratefulness through your unusual eyes. You turned, facing the three women, your cape resembling a waterfall.

"I believe I haven't inquired of your names yet," you prompted, looking them over. The youngest of three fiddled with the hem of her white apron, avoiding your gaze. "I do apologize for that. You all have been very kind to me."

"I am Jeyne," the oldest spoke first, giving you a curtsy. Grey hair poked from under her servant cap, wrinkles creasing the corners of her eyes.

"I am Fiora," the next one spoke, bowing. She appeared not much older than you, with bright green eyes and a splash of tan freckles on her nose and cheekbones.

You would guess the youngest girl, around Jace's age, continued playing with her clothes, muttering a meek "Dyana" and quickly bending her legs. You frowned at her response, sensing her anxiety, and reached for her tiny fingers, rough and dry with callouses.

"You need not be frightened, Dyana. I am not as wicked as the whispers claim me to be," you jested with a grin. She returned it, but it did not reach her eyes. A pang of sadness struck your chest as your gaze flicked over her as if you could understand the reason for her apprehension at a glance.

"My Ladies," you said, standing and clasping your hands in front of you as you bowed your head. "It is a pleasure to become acquainted finally. I am sure we will become close during my stay here." You smiled at all of them once more, your attention resting briefly on the meek fair skinned girl. "If any of you need something from me in the meantime, no matter how small or trivial, I will be at your service as you are to me."

The three shared bewildered expressions, Fiora's mouth agape as all muttered their thanks.

You supposed their reaction was understandable. They had never been treated like people before, almost making you feel bad for your motives.

Your plan would not hurt them in the long run. If anything, they would most likely be grateful to have a princess as an ally. Most nobles did not realize how much of their life depended upon the people serving them, not considering that they saw and heard everything within their homes. You would be a fool not to take advantage of that during such tumultuous times.

"Well," you clapped your palms together, giddy to finally have that out of the way, "I have grown rather famished and wish for some snacks before I watch men get rammed with sticks." Jeyne grinned, and Fiora bit her pink lips at your crude words. "I know that this is not proper, but I truly am in the dark. If you would not mind, could you lead me to the kitchens? I frequented them much at Dragonstone, as midnight snacking is a vice of mine, and wish to know where they are when the cravings emerge."

Knowing your next moves hinged on their response, you had planned those words carefully. You needed to tell them something that they believed was a secret. Daemon had told you once that revealing something one would deem embarrassing, that displaying vulnerability to a fellow human would have them drop their defenses, but if they were smart enough to realize this, it would ruin everything.

Fiora gave a toothy grin, nodding vigorously before looking at her companions. The other two shared the same smile. Through those actions, you could quickly tell what her personality was. She was a giddy and sweet girl, albeit a bit more susceptible than someone of her age should be. The other women followed along. Her joy was contagious as they approached the kitchens with you on their heels.

A self-satisfied smirk replaced the kind smile you wore for your servants.

Everything was going according to how you imagined it. Your maids took kindly to you, and as you traversed the long hallways and steps of the Keep, each passing nobleman and servant noticed your presence. One Lady gasped as you rounded a corner and met face-to-face, quickly scurrying away like a scared field mouse. A man who stood over a full head taller than you raked his eyes over your form, his attention staying on your breasts long enough for Jeyne to notice. She silently stepped before you could truly capture his face, only noting his long black hair and eyes.

Servants bustled throughout the kitchens, some throwing large pieces of dough on a floured table, others running with plates of food and ingredients in their hands. None of them paid attention as you entered, hidden behind the uniformed girls, having to duck beneath a misplaced stone in the stairwell ceiling.

Jeyne, Dyana, and Fiora led you through an archway into a room filled with even more people who still did not notice you, peeling carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables. You felt your chest deflate in defeat at your seemingly unimportant presence, not anticipating them to continue their tasks and not spare you a glance. It was not every day a member of the royal family graced them with their appearance.

It almost felt like the servants of the Keep did not see you as a Targaryen but as just another one of them. Your mouth soured at the thought, digging your nails into your palms until they left imprints. It would be best if you were happy to see them collectively agree you were not like the rest of your kin, but still, not receiving the recognition you tried so hard for was gutting. You could feel your body deflating, curling in on itself as your previous confidence dwindled.

No matter, you told yourself. This can work to my advantage.

They saw you as not someone to be feared, and perhaps you could extend those same opinions toward your Mother. Rhaenyra needed everyone who resided in the Red Keep to be on her side when she ascended the throne, the nobles who lived at court, and the knights who protected and defended the Targaryen name. Everyone was needed.

Jeyne handed you a peach from off the wooden table a male servant used to cut some vegetables, smiling as your thumb stroked the fuzzy skin. You could still remember when fruits such as that were unavailable to you, though these memories were faint and grew more difficult to recall as time passed. Dyana then found a jug of cider, filling a small goblet up to wash down the sweet taste that danced on your tongue, and Fiora used the corner of her apron to wipe the stray juices that dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. You smiled at them both gratefully, fighting on the inside not to swat their doting hands away, feeling like a child again.

You sucked the last bit of the pulp from the large seed before removing it from your lips and throwing it in the bucket they used for scraps. You continued to sip on the brass goblet Dyana had given you, following them from out of the kitchens and into a courtyard you had never seen before. It was lined with pens filled with livestock. Sheep, pigs, goats, and chickens belting, chirping, and snorting as you passed.

You were still determining exactly where the tourney would be held but had yet to hear of the vast and spacious arena it was. You knew you would be sitting inside the royal box next to the other noble members of your family, and you couldn't hide how less than joyful that made you feel. You did wonder if the King would be there, knowing that what the Maester and Otto said were complete lies about his health. Some of you still held onto hope that there was some truth in their deceitfulness. Indeed, they couldn't be so bold as to say something that could easily be disproven with one's eyes. The next Council meeting would undoubtedly be an eventful one.

Your ladies led you back inside an entrance of the castle you had never seen before, urging you to follow their steps and assuring you were close. Soon, the low rumbling of voices could be heard. Different pitches and accents all melted into one continuous barrage of sound as you ascended the stairs to your seat.

The first leg of the tourney was set to begin in a short while, and most of the royal family had already made their appearance. Even the eldest prince sat in a high back chair, practically falling asleep with a cup of wine in his hand. A slight grin formed on your face at the endearing sight, appearing as if you were looking at a babe rather than a man grown. His perfectly pink lips stuck out in a pout, a sigh escaping as he adjusted in his seat.

You were standing above him diagonally on the top riser and could see every huff, and every scoff he made as his Mother spoke to him, but Aegon could not see you. Queen Alicent said straight ahead, not looking at him as you saw her permanent scowl. It was her firstborn's name day, which should be celebrated with nothing but smiles and laughs. One would think she would be happy for such an occasion.

Aegon said something to his Mother that made her snap her head in his direction, ready to offer him some choice words as she saw you.

You could hear the gasp leaving Alicent clutching the pointed star of the Seven glued to her neck. You swore by the sound she made she had not seen you but the Stranger himself as her face paled. The Queen whispered something as she quickly looked away. Aegon was just as shocked as you regarding his Mother's reaction. He thought she might faint as he swiftly turned to see what it was all about.

Your gazes looked at one another, and your cheeks reddened under his stare. You felt your heart flutter in your chest, offering him a quick curtsey as you walked to an open seat at the lowest riser, crossing your legs as you adjusted the dagger at your hip.

Aegon had died. Well, it certainly felt like it when he laid his eyes on you. For once, his vision was clear and not yet clouded by the drink, and he could see your perfectly crafted body. He immediately went to the plunging neckline of your dress; how could he not? Your breasts were right there where he could see, noticing how much bigger they were than he initially imagined. He then noticed the curled golden dragon around your neck, reminding him of his own, Sunfyre. Had you chosen that for him? Did you purposefully put that on with him in mind? Aegon could feel his cock harden at the thought.

He watched you descend the giant stone steps, holding your skirts up so you did not trip as he saw your bare ankles. He could hardly contain the twitch of his hips at the sight. Aegon had been with many women in his life, too many to count, and yet seeing just a peak of your hidden skin had him nearly spilling in his breeches.

He thought back to your moment in the Godswood. Underneath the Heart Tree, the fragments of the sunrise peeking through the leaves dotted your skin with beautiful rays of yellow. One had been over your eyes, and Aegon had seen your pupils shrink and reveal more of the purple that bathed there. He never wanted to leave that moment with you. He wanted to stay forever underneath that tree, trace the scars on your skin, and kiss every part of you until he had you squirm underneath him.

Aegon remembered how your breathing hastened as your jaw trembled at his touch, your face contorted into a gorgeous pout as he pulled your lip with his thumb. He noticed how you were clenching your thighs together even though you had no idea. Nothing had changed between the two of you, he realized. Aegon knew you desired him as much as he desired you. You just did not know it yet.

Gods. He wanted to take the empty seat next to you so badly but knew what his Mother would say if he did-- what she would do if he did. So, instead, he signaled for a serving girl to fill his chalice to the brim, drowning his sorrows in Arbor Red.

***

You felt rather pathetic as you shifted in your seat, the wood creaking with your weight as you still held your wreath of flowers. You could sense everyone's eyes on you and the empty chairs positioned at your sides. No one wanted to sit next to the bastard, you mocked in your head, feeling as if your eyes would pop out of your skull if you rolled them any harder.

It was the fifth round of the tourney, and five men had been knocked off their horses, but no fighting had ensued. Bracken, Tully, Arryn, Tyrell, and Blackwood boys had to skulk back to the stables knowing they had lost.

The King had still yet to show if he was ever going to, and you had given a fierce glare at Otto Hightower a few rows up when he announced the tournament had officially started. You had caught the stare of Princess Helaena in the process and immediately softened, returning her kind smile before the One-Eyed Prince stole her. You made a mental note to see her at the feast the following evening, perhaps share a dance or two.

With the end of the fifth round started the sixth, and the vibrant lion banners of House Lannister were prominently displayed as Ser Tyland entered the arena. He sat atop his chestnut horse, trotting over to the squire that held his lance. He approached the royal box, and you thought for a moment he might ask you for your favor. You couldn't hide the distance as he smiled up at you but turned his face away, looking at someone behind you.

"I am Ser Tyland of House Lannister," he announced.

Yes, you twat, you said internally, we know who you are. You live here.

"Princess Helaena," he called, and she looked up from her fingers to the man below her. His voice nearly made you vomit. "Would you do me the honor of bestowing your favor for the next round, Princess?" he asked chivalrously.

She glanced at her grandsire beside her, and he nodded in approval as she stood, her pale yellow dress shining in the autumn sun.

"Of course," she smiled, walking to the steps to place her ring of white and blue flowers on the pole of his lance.

"I thank you, your Grace," he replied and then trotted back to the waiting young squire.

Helaena stood there momentarily, her eyes glassy as she looked at you. It didn't feel like her gaze was on you, but more looking through you as she whispered. "Heed the beast within the deep. Rock runs red, and rocks bleed."

You looked at her confused, brows furrowing, and reached for her hand, asking her to speak louder. She quickly smacked it away, her eyes widening in fear as if she was suddenly woken from a dream, and she hurried up the steps.

You didn't have time to dwell on Helaena's outburst as Ser Tyland Lannister's opponent entered the wring. His armor was an impenetrable crepuscule steel and as shiny as the scales that covered your dragon's flesh, a helmet the same color with a mane of yellow hairs spanning from his crown to the base of his neck. His banners were ones you had only seen on paper. Most of the fabric was black, just like his thick armor, but the sigil was a deep golden kraken with ten long tentacles, nearly spanning the entire flag. The squid-like beasts of House Greyjoy were said to terrorize the depths of the oceans and sink the ships of those unsuspecting.

You were unsure of which Greyjoy it was. Dalton or Veron or maybe a cousin or some distant kin that shared the name. You didn't care who it was. They were just another lord or knight seeking fame inside a wood and dirt stadium.

You signaled for a servant, and he gave you a chalice of wine as you slumped in your seat. You didn't want to cloud your mind with alcohol, always the one to be alert and observe things other people may not notice, but this was getting rather irksome, and you needed something to do other than sit and look pretty.

"Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy," the knight said, his horse a dusty grey color as he lifted his helmet off his head. You ignored him with confidence that it was not you he was speaking to, taking another gulp of wine as you swirled the drink.

Dalton was a fierce and ruthless man. You had heard his stories of his youth sailing the Basilisk Isles with his late uncle, pillaging the towns there. He had somehow claimed a Valyrian steel sword named Nightfall during those plunders. At one point, he had aided in the battle of the Stepstones as a sellsail, where his uncle was murdered. It had been rumored in a fit of vengeance, he killed every enemy within his sight and emerged from the battle victorious and drenched in blood. Since then, he bore the title of the Red Kraken.

"I come seeking the favor of the bastard girl the court speaks so much of." A collective gasp sounded in the royal box, shocked at his words.

You barked out a laugh at Ser Dalton, attempting not to choke on the liquid you just swallowed. You should have been insulted at him for calling you such a name. In the eyes of the law and the Seven, you were no longer a bastard, but clearly, that did not stop people from claiming you as such.

"You have found her, Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy," you mocked, crossing your legs as you began to play with a small leaf. You smiled as you noticed the maroon outline of his House sigil on his breastplate.

Everything thing about him was dark and menacing. He radiated an aura of malevolence from the inside as if you would cut him open; he would not bleed the same red. "Though, I do not think you deserve my favor after calling me such a name." Men and women released more gasps, and you could hear someone muttering a soft "Gods be good" under their breath.

You waited for the following apology, but it did not come, leaving you sitting there like a fool. You hummed in disapproval, pushing yourself upright.

"I am no longer a bastard girl," you stood, holding the flower wreath between your fingers, "but that of a woman born from a night of sinful heat and passion. I am skilled with the blade and well-read. I study history, philosophy, and the politics of the realm." Ser Dalton's onyx gaze crept from your leather slippers to the white streak in your hair. He watched you step closer and lean over the railing so only he could hear you. "I am not just a simple fucking bastard girl."

He watched the words roll off your tongue, gripping his lance tighter with parted lips as you placed the circle of black and wine-colored flowers on it.

You fixed your spine, staring down your nose at the bannerman before you. "Win this joust Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy, and I will forgive the slight you have made upon me. For I am afraid if you do not, the sand of the Iron Islands shall turn to glass, and your Salt Wives will finally be free. You have my favor and my luck." You flicked your wrist as you walked back to your seat. "Off with you."

"Thank you, Princess. You honor me deeply." He lifted the fist that carried his helmet and crossed it over his chest, bowing his head with an amused smirk.

You sat down, grabbed the cup you had been working on, and asked the servant to fill it again, unbothered with his courtly manners. Ser Dalton placed his helmet back on and readied his horse for the first bout.

You almost chuckled at the sight, drink to your lips. Sitting on his horse, he looked like a nasty black pony with a yellow mane, ready to bite and kick anyone nearby. His whole get-up was quite ridiculous as you continued to watch.

Ser Tyland's armor was so very much... Lannister. There was no other word to describe the style. He wore a long red flowing cape, his dense silver breastplate trimmed with gold in the shape of a lion.

An announcer with a sizeable brass horn stepped onto a wooden platform a few meters before the royal box. He wore a plum-colored hat with a dyed feather and an off-white tunic dampened with sweat and stained with dust as he shouted the outlining phrases for the beginning of this round. He introduced each House and their respective ranks within them.

"Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, conqueror of thirteen Salt Wives, Lord of the Iron Islands," he boomed into the sky, swaying his hand to the right side of the arena to where the man was. He paused to let the crowd shout their praises.

Screams and hollers of people echoed loudly, drowning out the announcer as he introduced Tyland next. You could see the proud Lannister boy's ego was hurt at the apparent favoritism, and you feigned a pout at the sight.

Finally, he blew his horn, signaling they could begin. Ser Dalton did not waste a breath in fear as he charged at Ser Tyland, his yellow-striped lance already bent and ready to take his opponent off his horse. You scoffed, taking another sip of the sickly sweet wine.

If he planned to knock Tyland down on his first try, he clearly did not comprehend the point of a joust. You did not understand why the audience would love him if he intended to get this over swiftly. This was supposed to be entertainment and not battle. It was meant to be a spectacle for the crowd, a break from the mundane life of the court.

At the last second, as Dalton and Tyland were about to collide stick to the chest, Ser Dalton lifted his lance straight. Ser Tyland's breezed past his rival, completely missing his goal with a cheer from the crowd. You mirrored their sentiments but did not show it on the outside, only adjusting in your seat with a soft sigh. You saw Dalton to the left now, and if you did not know any better, smirked at you. Arrogant, just like the Lannisters.

They went at it again, the hooves of their steeds thundering on the packed earth. This time neither of them started with their poles down, only for Ser Tyland to raise it at the last moment and knock Ser Dalton in the shoulder. Sadly, he did not fall off his horse and only lost his grip on the lance, dragging a line in the dirt. You laughed, pleased to have witnessed at least some bruising to the man's pride.

You tried your best to ignore the stares of those behind you. They had been on you since you sat. No doubt, if you looked, you would only be met with aversion and disgust. You steeled yourself, moving from your slouched position to rest your hands on the arms of the chair.

Aegon was part of the stares, though his expression differed significantly from the others. His Mother had cast him a sidelong glance at his reaction, and only then did he outwardly calm. He had been inside his mind until the squid boy approached you, asking for your favor. He even had the gull to call you a bastard! In front of nearly the entire court of the Red Keep! Oh, how Aegon wanted to call his dragon and burn the fish to pieces.

It also did nothing to soothe him when he saw you lean over the box fence, telling the squid boy only something he could hear. He knew your breasts were on display for the man judging by his hungry gaze. At one point, Aegon swore he saw him adjust his stance in the saddle.

Aegon was furious. His nails dug into his seat's material, feeling splinters wedge underneath them. He stole a pitcher of wine from a servant, keeping it on his lap so he could have continued access to it.

He was so, so furious as he watched your sudden interest in the tournament. He knew you were only mesmerized by the men in front of you because Ser Dalton gave you attention. Aegon wasn't upset over that; no, he was upset over the fact that the Lord of Pyke had won the round by hitting Tyland Lannister straight into the chest, sending him flying into the dust. He noticed how your shoulders lifted with barely contained excitement as he watched Ser Dalton send a bow your way.

He groaned, not filtering his discontent for the rest of the rounds that unfolded, which, sadly, each one Ser Dalton was the victor of. Eventually, the final bout started. His opponent was a Glover boy from the north, unsure of which one, but it didn't matter as he witnessed the Red Kraken get thrown from his horse. Aegon couldn't help but cheer theatrically at the sound of the lance splintering when colliding with his stomach.

He had caught your sudden gaze then, brown eyes flitting over how he stood and clapped his hands. You didn't smile but gave him a look of confusion, your thick brows furrowing. He had felt his jubilance subside, but only slightly.

Suddenly, Ser Dalton shouted, yanking a sword and shield from his squire and challenging the victor to a duel. Aegon felt his stomach sink into his chair as a strand of his blonde mane obscured his vision. Oh, splendid, he mused; the squid has pride.

The Glover had taken up the challenge without strife, still proudly wearing the banner of his House on his back. Aegon wondered if you had ever witnessed a duel before. He knew you had taken a life, but it was not the same as watching someone do it. Selfishly, he dreamed you would turn away at the sight and seek comfort from him, but that was all it was... a dream.

You watched with surprise as the Glover's and Dalton's swords clashed, the clang ringing in your ears. Each slash and thud of their metal longswords sent a jolt through your bones, curling your toes and squeezing your drink in a vice-like grip. You hated to admit that you felt nervous, your heart beating just a little too fast to be considered normal.

Ser Dalton's swings were wild but held a skillful precision, connecting with the Glover's side. It knocked the wind out of the poor boy's lungs and had him raising his shield as Dalton kicked it, sending him stumbling further.

He was so savage, so bloodthirsty that it made you shiver. You finally understood why he was called the Red Kraken, and you feared for the Glover's life. Surely, he wouldn't kill the boy; you hoped he wouldn't. The poor lad looked like he had just become a man. He was much shorter than Dalton but still taller than you, and he looked like this was his first tourney. You wished he would yield.

Ser Dalton swung at the boy, his armored fist connecting to his jaw with a nauseating crunch of bone and metal. Confidently, he kicked to disoriented teen in the stomach, knocking him to the ground, his sword falling just out of reach. He went to pull his shield to defend himself, but Dalton stomped on the arm that carried it. You could see how the Kraken stood over the Armored Glove, unable to hear what he said to him. You didn't need to. You knew what came next, and it did not frighten you. The Glover lost the duel as the Greyjoy raised his sword, cutting off the words that attempted to leave his tongue with a blade to the throat.

It was bloody. So very bloody. The essence of the Glovers' life force spurted from his body onto the face of Ser Dalton Greyjoy, dripping from his chin. You heard the gasps of those around you, a platter dropping at the horrific show as the ground became saturated with red. You didn't feel sad as you watched two people drag his body away, the crowd bursting into cheers and applause. In fact, you felt hardly anything, sitting as if nothing had happened as the announcer raised Ser Dalton's hand in triumph. You were used to death by now.

To the outside person, you looked alright, but Aegon knew you were anything but. Your knuckles blanched around your drink, resting it in your lap. He felt foolish to think you would shy away from such things. He knew you were much more robust than that, but still, he hoped you would run to him.

Everything next seemed to happen in slow motion. Aegon watched the crown of roses intended for the Queen of Love and Beauty be placed into Dalton's bloodied palms, strutting over to the royal box as he called out the most beautiful name he had ever heard... Yours.

His little one. His love.

Aegon went to jump out of his seat, but the firm hand of his Mother yanked his arm, abruptly pulling him back down before he could mock the royal family with his outburst. He wanted to rip his Mother off him and run to you. He wished to hide you from the hundreds of eyes staring at you. This wasn't right. He panicked. This cannot be right. You were his, and he was yours until the end of days.

He pictured what Ser Dalton's head would look like on a spike as you walked down the stairs and onto the small platform below. He watched the Salt Lord's eyes rake across your body as he placed the crown on your head, whispering something that made you clench your fists.

Everyone knew what this meant grandiose display meant. The Lord Reaper of Pyke intended to court his pretty girl and make a Salt Wife out of her. No, Aegon thought. That will never do.

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I hope y'all liked this chapter. It's an exciting one! We've met a new character, Dalton Greyjoy. He plays a big part in The Dance of Dragons. I won't spoil it for anyone, but let's say his heart runs black… The next chapter is the feast for our baby boy's 20th birthday! Let's hope Aegon gets everything he wishes for.

Tagged Peeps:  @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @fatalewomen, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @sunny-boy-06 

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

#aegon the second #house of the dragon #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #prince aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #hotd aegon #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii angst #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones #hotd fanfic #tom glynn carney #hotd #hotd fanfiction

[darlingofvalyria]

Your love is pure, beautiful and true. His is mandatory, optional and a duty. Yet you stay, because that is the tragedy of giving your heart to someone whose own is already in another's. A locked stepped stalemate where none truly get what they want.

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 598 ] | King!Aegon Targaryen II x Wife!Reader | part of elle's versions.

contains— angst. emphasis on the angst, hurt/no comfort, bits of smut ; lowercase intentional + arranged marriage, mention of former targcest (marriage to helaena), dance of the dragons canon happened, mentions of major character deaths - nsfw(ish): hints of marital obligation (trying for heirs) but no full sex scene - no betas.

a/n— comment, reblog, & like at will, huns! if i hurt you, pls know it was intentional mwahahaha

you had no allusions to what you were supposed to be, to do, as the king's new wife. the simplicities are bare, even a simpleton would understand.

you are a marriage borne from the ashes of the tragedy. you are the symbol of hope and peace. your marriage is the fodder, an heir its cannon.

you had no allusions, even your mother had spared you for the pretty lies. "war has torn this country in one ways to two," she murmurs, brushing her spindly fingers over your hair, preparing you, in more ways than one, to marry a king. in a few hours, you step out of these borrowed chambers to soon become a wife. "and with it, his family. wagging tongues can say the king never truly loved the queen, but they were blood sister and brother. there is care there. he had lost her through grief and rage, with it, his sons. his heir. you are a duty he must fulfil, like so many others. do not fall yourself into illusions, lest you hurt yourself."

you are a duty, you remind yourself as you stay precisely still, ram-rod straight spine as you fight every bone in your body to flinch as your husband, no, your king, orders the beheading of a lord, a black supporter until the very end.

you are a duty, you remind yourself as you pull your knees to your chest, shuddering under the weight of your loneliness. another night without your husband, without doing your duty as it is a difficult thing for him, to be with you. to have you. to be in this marriage. his whores, his paramours— they are a reprieve from the grief that still hangs, from the guilt, the anger, and from the betrayal of your own existence (to his wife? his sister? his dead children?).

you are a duty, you remind yourself, as the alcohol inside of him spills into you, his scent, his seed; as he clutches you close, loves you, fucks you,

you are a duty, you remind yourself harshly, sobs and anger silent inside your heart, as he kisses your head, his own mind already busy with his duties, unraveling from your warmth, from the love that has blossomed from your bossom and yearning for him— as he murmurs,

"have a great day with mother, hel."

and he pauses, back to you, the realisation spilling down his spine slower than yours; his, like thick molasses. yours, like ice directed to your veins. you are blowing fjords in the winters of winterfell. he is bubbling, molten fire gargling inside a dragon's stomach.

he pauses, the silence stretches.

"my apologies, my queen," he says, voice still and calm.

"'tis alright, my king," you say back, because that is your duty. you are wife to a king, not the owner of his heart. whether that died with the woman who flung herself off a tower, in the spilled blood of his sons, or in the arms of his paramours— it doesn't matter.

yours is his, sadly. you wonder if he knows. you wonder if he cares.

it doesn't matter either way. you smile despite him not seeing. despite him leaving. the realm exists, there are duties and there is a throne. your body has concave within itself, your chin to your knee, your breath a stagger through the emptiness of tears.

you are a duty he has finished off a list for the day.

you will come up again tomorrow until a maestre confirms the existence of a babe in your stomach, as all duties do.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii angst #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii fanfiction #hotd angst #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #hotd the greens win au #hotd modern au #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ elle's versions ˚