#Aegon house of the dragon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coryosbaby · 1 year ago

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How To Disappear

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader (also present: Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: the times when a newly wedded Targaryen couldn’t seem to keep her hands off of her husbands brother.

Warning: canon typical misogyny at times, infidelity (reader cheats on Aemond), angst & fluff, slowburn, sort of friends to lovers, I don’t support the character’s actions, yadayadayada// oral (m & f receiving), fingering, body worship, p n v, praise & degradation, cum play, switch but mostly sub! Aegon, dom! Reader

When your thoughts are plagued, they are plagued by Aegon Targaryen.

They should be focused on other things. Your marriage to Aemond, the focus on having his children, of being in such a high position… but your thoughts can’t stray away from your husband’s brother.

It’s not that Aemond is a terrible spouse; a bit of the opposite, to your surprise. Although usually cruel and unforgiving to most, it’s almost as if the man respects you— if you can say even that. He’s… calm, when he’s around you. You work together in a nice way.

But you can still remember the weeks that followed before you and Aemond’s marriage. The conversations that flowed between you and Aegon, incredibly easy. His eyes flitting down to the lilac dress you had adorned upon yourself, following the curve of your breasts and up to your full, lipstick stained lips. You knew he had wanted you.

“My father has asked me to wed a Targaryen,” you had quipped to him. You were both at a celebration; you couldn’t exactly remember what it was for. And as the people around you danced and sung in great harmony, you had taken a seat beside the boy and started up a conversation.

“Is that so?” He seemed a bit excited, a bit intrigued.

“It is.” Your eyes flitted to his hands; soft, trimmed nails and adorned with rings. “they want me to marry Aemond.”

Aegon’s lips had danced with a frown.

“How unfortunate.”

“For me or for you?”

His eyes flickered with a bit of mischief, but then his body slouched down into his seat and he resumed his usual cold stare.

“We will see each other more often,” he had said, retracting his statement. A blush had adorned his cheeks, though he hoped you didn’t see. He had looked away from you as he uttered his next words. “I’m fond of that.”

You had smiled.

“I’m looking forward to having you around as well, dear brother in law.”

That was only one of the moments between you and the prince.

Another time, you had both been taking a walk on the castle grounds. It was a summer day, and although people were flowing in and out of the castle the garden had been empty.

“The roses are my favorite,” you had told him. He had listened to you go on and on about those particular flowers for hours because he knew Aemond wouldn’t. Not only that, but your voice was so calming to him that he couldn’t seem to stray away from making it spill from your lips whenever possible. You told him so many things about these roses: why the color was the way it was, why it had thorns, what it was used for. You were so intelligent— and so passionate about such a small thing. It had Aegon falling in love with you even more.

When you were done with your rant he had picked one and handed it to you. You had accepted it, but with raised brows.

“Aren’t these your mothers?”

“She won’t mind.” He had said.

(She definitely did mind after that. Alicent had scolded him. But he never told you that. )

You had kissed Aegon’s cheek. And when you got back to your chambers, you had pressed the rose into one of your books so you could keep it forever.

A celebration of your wed to Aemond.

Aemond didn’t dance. That was apparent, and you were stuck sitting alone as he discussed things with the other people at the table. His hand was on your thigh, and although it wasn’t revolting to you you didn’t really want to associate with him at the moment. Your eyes were set on another familiar head of blonde hair across from you. He was giving you an amused smirk, as he watched your bored expression.

You become confused when the boy began to move out of his chair. Coming around to you, he held out his hand.

It was a gesture that Aegon didn’t usually perform. He had never been a dancer, just like his brother. But he could see the way you had been paying attention to the other couples moving around in perfect sync. He knew that you wished to dance.

He received weird looks, and a disapproving stare from Alicent. A strange expression from his brother, but nothing that showed that Aemond really cared about any of it. He had business to attend to.

You took Aegon’s hand. He pulled you onto the floor, your dress billowing behind you. It was a beautiful outfit, one that fit perfectly for newly wedded Targaryen royalty. His hands had moved to your waist and your arms had wrapped around his neck. Your lips quirked up into a smile.

“You don’t like dancing,” you stated.

“I don’t,” he agreed. “But I know you do.”

And after he spun you around and after you laughed so hard that it made you dizzy, you both stole a bottle of wine and went out into the deserted corridors. He smiled when you almost tripped and cursed in high valyrian.

“I didn’t know that you had learned that already.” He commented in surprise. You shrugged.

“I know a few words.” You begin to list a few, as you and Aegon both slide down against one of the walls of the corridor. The glint in your eyes made Aegon’s heart twist in a way that he was not particularly used to. He felt almost like a young boy again.

“—and I know the words lykiri, and muna—“ you paused, excitement bubbling from your lips at the most simple thing again. You were a little tipsy. “- Oh! And-“

“Avy jorrãelan.”

It had slipped from Aegon’s lips before he could even understand exactly what he said. But anyone could know what that means. Such a simple phrase… but not one to be taken lightly.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What does that mean?”

He had huffed, his face flushing, just as it always did around you. He came to the conclusion that you’d be too drunk to remember the words that spilled from him, the desire and true passion that had manifested in his vocal cords.

“Nothing, dove.” The nickname made you sigh, as your head had leaned into his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

You were already asleep before he could even ask if he should take you back to your room.

A sleepless night.

The wind howled, rain pattering against the castle walls. Aemond had been laying next to you, nude and in all of his glory. He had been inside you, just an hour or two before. And although the man was good in bed, you couldn’t seem to get that post sex exhaustion that usually overtook you. Looking at him then, as he slept, he looked almost peaceful.

Sure he could be cold and distant, but how were you not the same? Either way, you didn’t feel unsafe or uncomfortable when you touched Aemond. You were fine with it.

But you couldn’t get Aegon off your mind.

It’s not as if you felt guilty. Aemond had whores, prostitutes— he didn’t care to commit infidelity, so why should you have? You didn’t even think he would mind if he figured out about your feelings for his brother. Aemond didn’t love you— nor did you love him.

Shaking the thoughts out of your mind, your thighs wet from your previous endeavors, you used one of your old dress robes to clean yourself up. It was too late to properly cleanse yourself; you would get a bath the next morning. The bed creaked as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown fell to your knees in a long cascade of pink fabric.

You had approached one of the balconies adorning the castle walls. It wasn’t your usual spot for nights like those, but it would do.

And that’s when you saw Aegon.

His usual attire was gone. He was clad in nothing but a set of sleep pants. His hair was mussed and he seemed a bit dazed as he looked out onto the land below him. There was a covering over the balcony, as to avoid the rain. You didn’t want to disturb Aegon, but you couldn’t help it.

“Can’t sleep, either?” Your voice was a soft lilt, laced with tiredness that could not seem to travel to the depths of your brain.

The boy jumped when he heard your voice, but then he smiled when he turned around and saw you there.

“It’s rude to sneak up on people like that, you know.” He teased.

“And are you going to punish me for it?”

He smirked, as his eyes followed the bruises forming along your collarbones and neck from your night with Aemond.

“On the contrary. It seems my brother already has.”

Your eyebrows raised. You were beside him now, both of your hands on the railing of the balcony.

“Funny.”

His eyes moved to your lips, then he turned away from you.

“I can never sleep.” He said. “Even when there aren’t storms… the whores still aren’t enough—” he huffed out a laugh, as he looked back at you and shrugged. He regretted saying the last sentence, though he refused to aknowledge it for the time being. “Maybe I’m just mental.”

“Not mental,” you reply. “I can never sleep, either.”

There had been a silence, after that. Just for a bit. The rain was still steady, the wind whipping your hair, but it was calm.

“Can I tell you something, y/n?”

“Of course.”

Aegon cleared his throat. His fingers brushed against yours. “My mother wishes me to marry.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Of all the things that had happened on that night, for some reason the thought of Aegon bedding someone else made you feel weak.

This must be how he had felt.

“And who is to be your wife?”

Your voice was snappish. You had not meant for it to be.

“Haelena.”

Haelena. His sister. You were familiar with such pairings, had heard about it and had seen it. But the bile in your throat makes you ill. Haelena would be the one to marry Aegon. Haelena would carry Aegon’s child— would be his wife.

He would be her husband.

“How unfortunate.”

It’s all you could say, but Aegon’s hand grabbed yours before you could pull away from him and leave entirely.

“I did not mean to upset you… I just wanted you to be informed.”

“I know, Aegon.”

“She is not the one that I had wished to marry.” He murmured.

Your gaze had travelled down to his hands. So soft in your grip, yet so firm and unforgiving with others. He was a force to be reckoned with.

“I know, Aegon.”

He looked into your eyes, finally. You had always loved them. His palm cupped your cheek.

“I am going to kiss you.”

“So do it, my prince.”

It was tender, when his lips had slotted theirselves against yours. Almost careful. Aegon has never kissed so softly before, nor had he experienced such an aching in his heart when he had done so. He had pulled away, just to look at your pretty eyes. Then he went back in for more. More, more, more. He wanted more. He wanted it all. And when you had finally pulled him off of you, your heart pitter pattering with such a ferocity that you had to take a gasp of breath, you had got down on your knees, and showed him just how much you wanted him to be yours. Small whimpers and whines had left him; completely unlike what you would’ve expected from the Targaryen son. He had ached, pleaded, cried out for you to take him. Take all of me, he had thought. Use me and spit me out until I cannot take anymore. Break me until I’m begging you to stop. Put me back together again and make me anew. Let me worship you. I’ll be your prodigy.

And then with all the energy he could muster, he was tilting his head back in ecstasy and coming with a cry of your name on his lips.

The second touch.

This particular night was when Aemond was away. You had grabbed Aegon’s hand and pulled him to a quiet lake.

You had asked him to remove your corset. He had almost had a stroke then and there, as he undid the lace. You had pulled it off of yourself, and then went your skirts, your undergarments. You were completely nude to him. Your body, perfect beneath the moonlight as you dipped your toes into the lukewarm water. Aegon had watched as you sunk further and further into the depths. You had went under, coming back up graciously as you pushed your hair back from your face.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” You had asked teasingly.

Aegon flushed, his voice quaking a bit. “Are you sure, my lady?” Usually he wouldn’t ask permission, but he did when he was with you.

You had laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be, Aegon?”

The way you had said his name had sent a heat straight to his crotch. But before the boy knew it he was unbuttoning the thin layer of his shirt and pushing it over his shoulders. Your eyes followed every movement, wetness pooling in between your thighs when his pants had begun to come loose. His face flushed as he pushed them down past his legs. His thick cock had sprung up, aching and hard, pressed up against the lower part of his tummy. He was absolutely precious and definitely a sight to see.

His gaze didn’t avert from you. Although you made Aegon nervous, he wasn’t one to shy away from his body.

The water wasn’t as cold as he thought it would be. He had nervously neared you and you had just laughed and pulled him closer. You grabbed his shoulders and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. You had tasted sweet but also bitter, like wine. You were a heavy drinker like he was.

He had brought his hands down to your naked waist, had went down, down, down. He wanted to feel your cunt, and he had. His palms were soft against your mound, stroking the patch of hair there. Then his fingers moved down to your lips. Your clit had been poking through, and he gave it a gentle rub. You had buried your face in his neck.

“Aegon,” you had moaned, breathy. “That’s good, darling. Keep going.”

He had fingered you until he could tell the difference between the water and your slick. He had fingered you until your legs were shaking, until you had to curl one leg around his to stay upright. He had used his tongue to flick against your pebbled nipples, and throughout all of this your hand gave his cock firm but gentle strokes.

When he came he had moaned out your name on his lips with such a ferocity that it almost shook you to the core. You had bit down onto his neck as a sign of your possession, and he had let you. And then when you went back to the castle grounds you had kissed him goodnight and waited for your husband to get home.

Another time, when his mother had hit him particularly hard, and Aegon had cried on that balcony from those many nights before. You were there to help him back to his room, had set him down on his bed and helped clean the blood off of his face. He had watched you, gaze sad and upset. You had taken a rag and wiped the blood off of his lips with a gentle stroke of your hand.

“You’re okay,” you had cooed to him. His face was still flush with tears, and he had pressed it into your waist so he could cry against you. Your fingers had went to his blonde hair, had ran through it and then stroked the back of his neck. “I’m here, sweet Prince. Everything is okay.”

You were there. You were there with Aegon, and everything was okay.

He had never been exposed to this sort of comfort before; not by his father or mother, nor his siblings or the women from the pleasure house. He had never felt this sort of passion for another person; had never felt gentle with them, had never felt enough to cry onto them without consequence.

You consumed him.

When his strong cries had died down into sniffles, he had wiped his eyes and apologized profusely to you.

“Don’t say that,” you had replied to him. “I am not like them. You can cry as much as you wish when you are with me.”

His lips had consumed yours again, after that. His tongue had slid inside, rubbing up against the roof of your mouth. He had let you climb atop him, and with a strong arm he had turned you over onto your back. He had got off the bed, on his knees. He had pulled your body towards him and guided his mouth in between your thighs. He had licked you, swollen and red from the fervent strokes of his wet tongue. He had taken your clit in between his teeth and had suckled until your juices soaked his face and you could only cry. He had worshipped your cunt.

Aegon, Aegon, Aegon.

He was all you could see, think or feel.

Aegon, Aegon, Aegon.

Your nectar had thrown him into a trance, his tongue going through your folds over and over. He had wanted to consume every ounce of your spend. And when you had finally pushed him off, when the stimulation had become too much for your poor cunt to bare, you had told Aegon to go to sleep.

He had followed your orders. However, he had asked for you to be naked, first; he wanted your dress off, wanted your bare skin pressed against him. You had felt the wet patch from his pants against your thigh, where his semen rested against the inside of them. He had peaked when he was eating you.

And as he drifted off, as you uttered out a hummed tune, his mouth had found your nipples and he had suckled until his eyes had closed and his breath turned into small, hollowed whispers.

You were there.

You were there, and everything was okay.

You and Aegon were tipsy.

But of course, when were either of you not handling a goblet of wine? There was another party; one, you perceived, as completely and utterly random. Being ignored by Aemond was a normal occurrence, and it was happening again: So with a telepathic conversation between the eyes of you and Aegon, you had both decided to steal a bottle and sneak away once again. And as it was before, you both turned into the same corridor as the last time.

As you plopped down on the floor, a rather unladylike cackle left you as Aegon talked about the looks of one rather rude and ugly commoner. Your hands had grabbed the bottle of wine from the boy’s grasp. His eyes furrowed, drunken and smiling for the first time in a while.

“And his— oh, my gods, his forehead! Never have I seen one so large!”

You giggled, a bit of the wine slipping from the corners of your mouth as you drink from the bottle.

“An incredibly bulbous head!” You slurred.

“Absolutely! A courtyard of a head!”

That made exactly no sense, so alas you were both laughing again. Aegon’s lips connected to your jaw, as he lazily began kissing away the wine on the skin there. His eyes looked up to you, teasing.

“Have I mentioned that you look beautiful tonight, my lady?”

Your smile had the same amount of flirtatious movement. His fingers drew along edges of your mouth; wine had spilled there, too. When the long digits had grazed your lips, you were quick to suckle one into your mouth.

Aegon’s eyes had turned a bit dark. When you sucked them clean, you pulled them out of your mouth with a pop.

“Beautiful enough to take me back to your chambers?”

“Beautiful enough to have the whole kingdom, ñuho glaeso hūrus.”

You smiled.

“You’re speaking words I don’t know, again.”

Aegon huffed, his fingers grazing your hair as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I didn’t think you remembered that night.” He said sweetly.

“I remember most,” you had replied. “I remember avy jorrāelan.”

He froze, as you smirked up at him.

“I researched the phrase…” you murmured, amused. Your lips moved up to his hair, giving his earlobe a teasing nick with your teeth. “I believe you said, ‘I love you’.”

“Maybe I did.”

“Hmm..” you sighed, and tilted your head back with your eyes closed, as if in thought. “The sweet prince of the north loves me.”

You said it as a statement, because you knew it was true.

“Yes,” Aegon whispered. His hands found yours again. His fingers were still a bit damp from your spit, but you didn’t care.

“Then maybe the sweet prince—“ you cooed, opening your eyes and stroking his face with a free hand. “—should take me back to his room and show me how much he does. Because…”

You had kissed him. His mouth was agape, eyelashes fluttering.

He looked so beautiful like that.

You pulled away.

“Perhaps I love him, too.”

He almost whined when you had said it. His cock was throbbing in his pants from such a simple sentence. His lips grazed yours, but you tusked and began to lift yourself up.

“To your chambers, my grace?”

He had made love to you, that night. When his cock had slid inside the heat of your cunny, when he had become one with you, it was unlike any other experience. Aegon had never made love before you.

Your cunt had contracted around the ridges of his girthy length, had been split open unlike ever before. Whilst Aemond was gifted in length, his brother was gifted in thickness.

He had peaked inside of you. His spend had filled you to the brim and had spilled over the cusp. You were dripping in him. And when he had pulled out, your clit now sore from your orgasms, he had shoved his cum back inside of you and told you to leave it in.

When you had both cleaned yourselves up to the best of your ability, you had both slipped your clothes back on and went back to the party.

“Where have you been?” Aemond had seethed. This was one of the only times he had ever been angry and payed mind to your existence. The party was settling down, people beginning to waver. “You will not leave me in such a way again. Not when people of importance are here!”

You had smiled, as he had spewed those disgusting words at you. It seemed you were the only people at the table, and as Aegon took his usual place across from you Aemond’s eyes had narrowed with a violent intensity.

“Apologies, brother.” Aegon had interrupted. “She was attending to my drunkeness.”

Aemond had tensed. He had clenched his jaw as he had spoke his next words.

“I do not want it to happen again.”

You smiled at Aemond and kissed his cheek sweetly.

“May we retire to our rooms, dear husband? I need a bath.”