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doxypsychlean · 1 year

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Aegon II Targaryen x reader who is manipulative and uses the motherly love he never got to get her own way. They both love each other but in a toxic yandere kinda way 😂

Wrapped around your finger

Yandere!Aegon ii Targaryen x Yandere!Reader

Headcanons|

Warnings: none? pls tell me if I've missed sth

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Aegon and Halaena aren't together in this one. It's also pretty sweet, despite their ?yandere? tendencies.

Oh, he really thinks he's that good.

Then you come around.

You, a lady of noble descent and a member of one of the greater houses in Westeros, are also one of his greatest rivals when it comes to having the worst reputation in all the realms.

At first, it's just harmless fun. Nothing too serious.

But then you become a witness to the way his family treats him.

You work your way into his heart and head. I mean, who in their right mind would miss out on the opportunity of being Queen of Westeros one day, amirite?

He bites the bait pretty quickly.

Aegon is obsessed with the way you shower him with affection and love.

He'd be spending most of his time in your arms, begging for you to tell him how much you love, how unfair his mother is to him.

Alicent hates you at first.

The hatred turns to admiration with time, seeing as you gain complete control over her son and mold him to your liking.

But there's more to what she's feeling towards you- fear. With the way things are going, all it would take is for you to snap your fingers and Aegon would kill them all. For you.

You never do, thank the Gods, and for that you have the Queen's utmost respect and gratitude.

She never lays a hand on him again. She doesn't have to, but she's also too scared to do it.

He still drinks, maybe not as much as he did before, but he no longer chases after the servant girls. As if you'd even allow it to happen.

The first time you realize what you feel for him might be actual love, is when you order for some noble lady to be "displaced" from the Red Keep. You didn't like the way she stared at him. Cue, girly losing her eyes for that one.

He was yours and the only way to get him away would be to pull him out of your cold fingers. And you had no intention of dying any time soon.

Aegon rarely goes out of the Red Keep anymore and when he does, you're always with him. The Prince has glued himself to you, whether you like it or not.

On the rare occasions of you two not being present in the castle, golden scales could be seen shimmering high above King's Landing. Sunfyre loves you, the golden beast could feel the strong bond between his rider and you.

Expect lots of expensive gifts- lavish dresses, the rarest perfumes from Essos, jewelry, books, horses, ginormous bouquets of your favorite flowers, commissioned portraits of you two, gold, sweets, etc.

You want it? You'll have it. Simple as that.

He'd never thought of himself as a jealous man, but the second he sees his brother talking to you and you laughing... All Seven Hells break loose.

Aegon turns into a sniveling, whining mess, hands wrapping around you as if his life depends on it.

All the while shooting daggers at Aemond behind your back, daring him to come closer so he could claw his remaining eye out.

Few soft words from you and he's melting.

You love him. He loves you. Everything is more than fine. He completely forgets about Aemond, who's slowly backing away from you two.

You get married not long after. Neither one of your families is brave enough to say a word against the union, seeing as ...

You absolutely never tried to hide it from the public.

You're all over eachother for the most of it.

Both men and women are dropping like flies around you, if they just as much as stared at either of you for a second too long.

Both yours and his family are equally scared and would rather keep away, than try and separate you.

Word spreads around quickly. You're with child.

Aegon's over the moon. You're his. He's yours. Completely.

The prove pops out not long after. Then another. And another.

He would 100% elbow the midwife in the face if she tries to keep him away from you while you're giving birth.

"My Prince, you cannot..."

"Out of my way, you old hag, my wife is in there!"

He was there while you were making them, he has every right to be there while you squeeze them out.

Definitely cries his ass off when he holds your firstborn.

His tunic is discarded quickly as he holds the small bundle close to his bare chest.

Then he wraps one hand around you, almost crushing your neck with how strong he's squeezing you.

Same thing goes down every single time- he storms in, kid comes out, he's bawling his eyes out at the sight.

You pick the dragon eggs for each and every one of them together.

Aegon's just as obsessed with your children, as he is with you.

Gods forbid someone makes one of his little bundles of joy cry...Heads will be flying in all directions, no matter who they belong to.

Not even the Stranger would be able to pull you apart.

Even in death, you'd find a way to be back together.

#hotd fanfic #hotd #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd headcanon #headcanon #yandere #but not really #idk yall will be the judges #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #accepting requests #dance of dragons #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second

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dontforgetoctober3rd · 6 months

Text

Our Place

Summary: Michael Gavey was gone from school for a good two weeks being sick. He gets back to find out that the most horrific of things have happened: someone has claimed his favorite spots in the library and the cafe. And spanish class. She was American. Worst of all…she was pretty and he could definitely grow to like her. Maybe.

Word count: 1260

Rating: T for swearing, i guess

Disclaimer: I don't own Michael Gavey, he belongs to the Saltburn universe created by Emerald Fennell

OCs:

Amy Ryan (face claim is the fantabulous Elena Kampouris)

Professor Julio Sanchez (face claim is the sexy, sexy Taika Waititi)

Michael didn’t understand why people were looking at him like he was the one out of line. During mealtimes or when studying in the library, you can’t really lay claim to an area. He got that. Classrooms were different, though. Everyone sat in the same spots. The new girl had already parked herself at his favorite library table and at his favorite lunch seat in the cafe. He had acquiesced both times and gone to sit somewhere else. This Spanish class seat was his. He was asking nicely. It was his seat and everyone knew it. Everyone, that is, except for the new girl.

Her name was Amy and she was very pretty but that did not matter. Women like Amy who dressed in what was known online as “cottagecore goth” did everything they could to avoid even breathing in direction of guys like Michael. Well, women who wore anything. Any woman, really. Men too. That was not the matter at hand, however. Seat. His. Pretty or not, she had to move.

“I sit there. I always sit there. Please move?” he asked again.

“Dude, there’s like a million other empty seats. I’m not gonna move.” With that, she continued to set up her section of the desk bench, taking out her laptop and a notebook with some pens.

People kept staring and some even started to laugh as Michael stayed put.

Don’t let them see you upset. Don’t let HER see you upset. It was time to enact some good old fashioned psychological warfare. He would annoy her away from his seat. HIS seat. It didn’t really require any effort on Michael’s part. Being himself seemed to work just fine, usually.

“You know what? You’re right.” he said, taking the spot right next to her. He pulled out his own laptop and materials as she stared. “Change is good. Variety is the spice of life. Good enrichment for my ‘enclosure’, so to speak.” He grinned at her, his hands clutched together on top of the table area where their seats were.

“Dude…”

“Listen, I know it might seem like I’m following you around but I promise I’m not. It’s just that, in a freakish set of coincidences, you’ve managed to take all my usual spots.”

“Hmm. ‘Your’ spots? All of them? What are the odds of that?” Amy asked. She crossed her arms, leaning back.

Michael smiled. Time to annoy! “You’re asking the right man! It's really quite a mathematical anomaly, actually. To ha-”

“Me hacen el favor de callarse el hocico!?” Came the shout from the pit below. Amy and Michael turned to attention.

Professor Sanchez had arrived. Speaking English was forbidden in his classes. It helped with the immersion. “Hay que empezar con el trabajo de hoy. Ustedes bien saben que los Viernes son para CALLARSE EL HOCICO y aprender los nombres de lugares famosos.” he said, with a clap of his hands. He turned to scribble on the blackboard.

The class got busy copying the words onto their laptops (Professor Sanchez insisted that students either write or type the words themselves, no pictures and no recording.) Michael snuck at glance at Amy. Her laptop was covered in stickers. Band stickers. Restaurant stickers. Tv show stickers. Most were worn and faded, a couple were glossy and clearly new. You name it, she had a sticker on there.

Amy noticed him looking, pausing to stare back. “What’s up?” she whispered, no-nonsense in her voice.

Michael gave a small chuckle and pointed at her computer. “You’ve got some laptop on your stickers.” he murmured, attempting to keep his voice low and out of Professor Sanchez’s hearing range.

Amy smirked…but to Micheal, it didn’t feel mean. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got? Corny. Corny as hell.” she whispered back, shaking her head and returning to her typing. She was still smiling. It sounded like she had accepted an invitation to play a game. Maybe dodgeball.. Did Americans play a lot of dodgeball? Oh well, time to keep the annoyance going.

“Don’t think there’s a whole lot of corn in hell.” he continued, also typing away at his laptop. He felt a bit nervous. This was way more than they had talked earlier in the day.

“Ok, what would you suggest as an accurate threshold for corniness?”

“Depends. Are we talking per capita?”

“Sure.”

“America itself is pretty corny. Literally. They’re the top corn-producing nation in the world. China is second and they produce almost ten percent less tha-”

“Michael, que rayos les dije hace unos minutos?” Professor Sanchez had turned around, hand on one hip and the other hanging with the piece of chalk still in it. He was staring straight in Michael’s direction.

Spanish was Michael’s worst subject when speaking it. He did perfectly well writing and could read it no problem as well. Speaking it? Bloody hell. “Um...que me..que me..” Michael struggled for a few more seconds, some snickers peppering the classroom’s air. They wouldn’t be laughing if this was Mathematics, he thought.

“Que nos callarmos el hocico.” Amy spoke up, trilling that ‘r’ perfectly.

“Muy bien. Dale las gracias a tu novia por salvarte, si?” With that, Professor Sanchez turned around.

Michael was burning with shame. He knew perfectly well what ‘novia’ meant and doubted that Amy wanted to be considered that. He opened a new document, quickly typed out “Sorry about that.” and motioned for Amy to read it.

Amy read it and smiled. She opened a document as well and Micheal read it as she typed it out. “No worries!” it began. “Listen, if it really means that much to you, you can have your spot back next time. I don’t give a shit where I sit here.”

Michael quickly typed back “It's fine, actually. It’s not as if I’ll die if I don’t sit in that particular spot. I’ll sit somewhere else next time. Broaden my horizons. : ) “

Amy was still grinning when she typed and Michael was quick to read it, curious as to why she was smiling. “An emoji in a word document? Really?? CORNY. Anyways, you can stay. I don’t own the damn place. Sit wherever you like. I’m fine with it, I promise! ;)”

“Cool. I’ll just sit next to you, then. 😀 “

“Cool cool. 👍” she typed back. “So what do you say we meet at our place in the library after I’m done with my classes at like 3? I can tell you all about the non-corny side of America (fuck yeahhhhh)!”

Michael happily typed back, trying his best to act non-chalant at her mention of “our”. Americans were overly friendly. It probably didn’t mean anything. “Got it. Our place at 3!”

“See you there! Don’t bring actual corn. I feel like I can see the cogs in your head physically turning, trying to come up with something as corny as possible. 😂 “

“Will do. No corn, only maths. To explain the whole debacle of you being every place that I also like to be.”

“Sooooo you like being wherever I’m at? 😜” Amy typed out, smirking as he read the text.

This was a game. It didn’t mean anything. She wasn’t flirting. She would say this about anyone, she’s American. “Yep, You caught me.” he responded.

“Knew it! 😂 Welp, see you there then.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, the gentle clacking of their keyboards punctuating the air. The conversation had come and gone like a car quickly driving by. He didn’t know how it had happened, but Michael Gavey was pretty damn sure that even if Amy didn't consider herself his girlfriend, he had just gotten himself a date with her.

#michael gavey #saltburn #saltburn movie #ewan mitchell #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic #plz judge me kindly i literally pulled this out of my ass while glued to my laptop for two hours lmaoo #soooooooo what do yall think #idk what classes at fucking Oxford are like plz just go with it for the love of god

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