#aegon hotd

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (Aegon is jealous)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Note: This part has an extra reader/Aemond interaction. Time is skipping from present to past.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: aegon has a cold

- Next part: royal wedding

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995

The Red Keep is unusually quiet this afternoon as you’re making your way through the castle, intending to visit the gardens where you can enjoy the warm air and perhaps indulge in some idle gossip with your ladies. It’s a perfect day for it, or at least, it was until Aemond Targaryen unexpectedly appears in your path.

He stands in the hallway, arms crossed and expression as stern as ever, as if he’s waiting for some important meeting. When his single, icy violet eye fixes on you, it’s clear he has no such plans. You have the distinct feeling that this encounter is as unwelcome for him as it is for you.

“Aemond,” you greet with your best attempt at politeness, offering a sweet smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Aemond doesn’t bother with a smile. Instead, he inclines his head slightly, regarding you with that same, unblinking stare that could make a lesser woman wilt. But you’re no lesser woman. “Y/N,” he replies, his voice cool and precise. “I’m surprised to see you without my brother clinging to your skirts. Or did you manage to give him the slip for once?”

You chuckle, deciding to meet his coolness with warmth. It’s what you do best, after all. “Oh, Aegon can’t always keep up with me,” you say with a wink, gliding closer. “He’s busy with kingly duties, you know. Someone has to manage the realm.”

Aemond’s lips twitch, though whether it’s the beginning of a smirk or a grimace, you can’t quite tell. “Yes, I’m sure he’s terribly preoccupied. I imagine it’s quite exhausting, all that lounging about with a goblet in hand.”

You ignore the jab at Aegon’s expense, well aware that this is Aemond’s typical mood—bitter, acerbic, with an ever-present undercurrent of disdain. “Well, he does deserve some rest, don’t you think? After all, he’s got me to keep him on his toes.” You give him a bright smile, the kind that you know Aegon would melt for, but Aemond merely stares at you, as though you’ve sprouted a second head.

“And how fortunate for him,” Aemond mutters, rolling his eye. “I can only imagine what you keep him busy with, though I suspect it involves more idle flattery than sound advice.”

You laugh at that, a light, melodic sound that echoes off the stone walls, but the humor doesn’t reach your eyes. “Oh, Aemond, I didn’t realize you were so interested in my life with Aegon. I thought you preferred to keep to yourself, all stern and serious like some sort of dark knight.”

Aemond’s eye narrows at your teasing, his mouth flattening into a line. “You presume too much,” he says coolly, though he can’t quite disguise the irritation that seeps into his voice. “I have little interest in your affairs, but unfortunately, it seems I am forced to endure them regardless.”

You bat your lashes at him, taking great amusement in needling the typically unflappable Aemond. “Endure? My, my, Aemond, you make it sound as though I’m a burden. Surely you can find some enjoyment in my company.” You place a hand over your heart, feigning a dramatic sigh. “After all, not many get the pleasure of my presence without having to fight Aegon for it.”

Aemond’s expression remains stony, but you catch a flicker of something behind his gaze—annoyance, perhaps, or maybe resignation. “I would hardly call it a pleasure,” he replies dryly, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. “More like an exercise in patience.”

You smirk, unperturbed. “Oh, patience is a virtue, they say. And I’ve been told I can be… a bit trying at times.” You lean closer, dropping your voice to a mock whisper. “But I’m sure a serious, level-headed man like you can manage it.”

Aemond’s jaw tightens as he regards you with barely concealed frustration, and for a moment, you think you might have finally struck a nerve. But then he huffs softly, a sound that might have been a laugh if it weren’t so begrudging. “You are nothing if not persistent,” he concedes, though his tone remains clipped. “I suppose that’s why Aegon finds you so endearing.”

You tilt your head, studying him with a curious smile. “Is that jealousy I hear, Aemond? Surely you don’t wish you had more of my attention?”

Aemond’s eye sharpens, and he steps closer, looming over you with his taller frame. “Hardly,” he retorts, his voice as cold as the North wind. “I prefer company that doesn’t talk my ears off with false pleasantries.”

You pretend to consider his words, then shrug with a grin. “Well, not everyone can appreciate my charms. But I can assure you, Aegon seems to have no complaints.”

Aemond rolls his eye, clearly done with your banter, but before he can walk away, you step into his path, forcing him to pause. “Come now, Aemond, it wouldn’t hurt you to smile every once in a while. It might even soften that terrifying expression of yours.”

He arches a brow, unimpressed. “Why would I need to soften my expression?”

You give a playful shrug, glancing up at him from under your lashes. “Well, it might make you seem less like you’re plotting everyone’s demise at any given moment.”

Aemond actually snorts, though it’s a dry, humorless sound. “You misunderstand me, Y/N. I’m not plotting everyone’s demise.” He leans in slightly, his voice lowering, as if confiding a great secret. “Only a select few.”

You let out another laugh, genuine this time, and Aemond’s lips twitch slightly, as if even he can’t help but find some amusement in your audacity. It’s brief, but you catch the ghost of a smile before his usual stoicism takes over again.

“Well, as long as I’m not on that list,” you reply cheerfully, stepping back and giving him a mock curtsy. “I suppose I shall leave you to your brooding, then.”

Aemond watches you for a moment longer, as though considering whether to respond, but then he simply inclines his head, his expression settling back into cool indifference. “Good day, Y/N,” he says curtly before striding past you, his coat swirling behind him as he disappears down the corridor.

You watch him go, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. Aemond Targaryen might be as rigid as the Iron Throne itself, but it’s almost fun to poke and prod at that iron shell of his. He may endure your company with all the grace of a man suffering a long sermon, but you know he’ll remember every word.

And that, you think with a smirk, is victory enough.

The Red Keep’s dining hall is bathed in the warm glow of candlelight as the royal family gathers for a dinner. The long table is laden with platters of roast meats, steaming vegetables, and freshly baked bread. It’s meant to be a family meal, a time for unity and bonding, but the atmosphere is already taut with the undercurrents of various rivalries and tensions. At one end of the table, King Viserys looks weary, doing his best to keep up with the conversation between coughs, while Queen Alicent hovers nearby, ever the dutiful wife.

You sit comfortably beside Aegon, who is only halfheartedly stabbing at his food with a fork, glancing up every few moments to check on you. But tonight, for once, your attention isn’t entirely on him. Across the table, Aemond sits with his usual upright posture, speaking to you with a surprising degree of politeness, even if his compliments have that sharp edge he never quite seems able to dull. It’s enough to draw your interest, and Aegon can see it.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Aemond says, his tone smooth, “have you ever read the histories of Old Valyria? I find them quite fascinating—the rise and fall of empires, the shaping the bloodlines. Few truly understand the weight of it.”

You smile at him, leaning in slightly, clearly interested in the conversation. “I have, actually. The legends and lore are beautiful, if not tragic. It’s incredible how much history shapes our present.”

Aegon’s grip on his fork tightens, his knuckles turning pale. He glances between the two of you, his mouth curving into a frown that deepens with each word exchanged. You’re supposed to be looking at him, not his self-important little brother. He coughs loudly, just shy of a theatrical gag, as he leans closer to you. “Y/N,” he says in a voice that’s far too loud for the setting, “you remember that story I told you about that time I fought that wild boar on Dragonstone, don’t you?”

You blink, turning your attention to Aegon, who is now staring at you with an intense, almost desperate expression. “Yes, Aegon,” you reply, though your voice carries a hint of amusement, “you’ve told me that story a few times.”

Aemond’s lips twitch, just the slightest bit, but he says nothing, instead taking a slow sip of his wine. You get the sense he’s enjoying watching Aegon squirm, though he hides it well. Aegon catches the subtle smirk, and his frown deepens. He isn’t about to let Aemond outshine him tonight.

“But did I ever tell you about the time I caught two wild boars, at once?” Aegon blurts, leaning in closer as if the detail will turn the tide of the conversation. “It was quite the ordeal, really. Very dangerous. Everyone said it couldn’t be done, but I proved them wrong.”

Alicent shoots Aegon a withering look from her end of the table, clearly exasperated with his antics, but Aegon doesn’t seem to notice or care. He’s too busy trying to win back your attention.

You give Aegon an indulgent smile, though it’s clear you haven’t entirely forgotten your conversation with Aemond. “That does sound… impressive, Aegon,” you say diplomatically, though you can’t resist glancing back at Aemond, who raises an eyebrow ever so slightly.

Aegon’s eye twitches at your distraction. He reaches for the jug of wine and refills your cup to the brim, his movements overly eager, as if hoping the gesture might sway you. “You know, Y/N, Aemond may know his dusty old books, but I—” He thumps a hand against his chest, nearly knocking over a plate. “—I know how to live. And isn’t that what truly matters?”

Aemond’s expression barely changes, but his single eye gleams with amusement. “Is that so, brother?” he drawls, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “I suppose it takes a certain… perspective to see chasing boars as living.”

Aegon bristles at the veiled insult, his face turning a shade redder than the wine in his cup. He reaches out, draping an arm over your shoulders in an overly possessive manner. “Y/N knows what I mean, don’t you, darling?” He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “You prefer my company, don’t you?”

You manage to suppress a laugh at the sudden shift in his demeanor. It’s like watching a puppy bark at a much larger dog, trying to prove it’s just as fearsome. “Oh, Aegon, you know I appreciate you,” you say, patting his hand in a way that’s meant to soothe, but your amusement is barely hidden.

Helaena, who has been sitting quietly beside Aemond, looks up from her plate of roasted duck and glances between her brothers with mild curiosity, though she seems more fascinated by the way the candlelight reflects off her goblet than the tension in the room. “Boars can be very tricky,” she muses dreamily, as though it’s a perfectly normal contribution to the conversation.

Viserys, who has been struggling to follow along with the rapid exchange, chuckles weakly, though it’s clear he’s not entirely sure what’s happening. “Yes, yes, tricky creatures,” he mumbles, before lapsing back into silence, his weariness overtaking him again.

Aegon takes the opportunity to press closer to you, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper meant to sound sweet, but it comes out more desperate. “You see, Y/N? Even the king agrees with me. I know how to keep life exciting.”

Aemond snorts softly into his wine cup, just loud enough for Aegon to hear. “Yes, brother, you’re certainly a master of excitement. Like that time you… fell off your horse at the tourney? Or was it when you set fire to your own cloak trying to light a candle?”

Aegon’s face flushes with annoyance, his grip on your shoulder tightening. “That was an accident, and everyone knows it!” He turns to you again, trying to recapture your attention with an exaggerated pout. “But you don’t think I’m clumsy, do you, Y/N?”

You look between the two brothers, thoroughly entertained by their bickering, and finally take pity on Aegon, though not without letting a hint of mischief creep into your voice. “Of course not, Aegon. I think you’re… very capable. In your own way.”

Aemond raises his goblet in a mock toast. “Yes, to Aegon’s… unique talents.”

Aegon glares at him, and then, as if he can’t think of a better response, leans closer to you, pressing a noisy, dramatic kiss to your cheek. “You see, Y/N, some people might call my talents unconventional, but I think that just makes me more… interesting.”

You try not to laugh, but the sound escapes despite your best efforts. Aemond rolls his eye again, a faint smirk playing on his lips, but he remains otherwise silent, clearly enjoying Aegon’s discomfort too much to intervene further.

Alicent clears her throat, her patience wearing thin as she glares between her sons. “Enough,” she snaps, her voice low but cutting. “This is a family dinner, not a competition.”

Aegon, undeterred, clinks his goblet against yours with a grin that’s more petulant than charming. “To family, then. And to those who know how to enjoy life to the fullest.”

Aemond merely raises an eyebrow, taking another sip of wine, but you can see the faint amusement lingering in his gaze. He seems content to let Aegon claim his small victory, knowing that the real prize is seeing his older brother squirm with jealousy.

You lean back, enjoying the view of the two brothers’ very different styles of vying for your attention, thinking that this family dinner has turned out to be far more entertaining than you’d expected.

[coryosbaby]

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.”

A/N: I am an Aemond and Daemon girlie, but the actor that plays Aegon is so fine. If there r grammatical errors I’m sorry

[hotdjoking]

[alexandrarosa]

I HAVE NO IDEA WHY

but every time I read a Lucemond fic and there is a mention of Jacegon just being happy and having children I think of that meme

It’s like:

Somebody who has decided to wed omega Aegon to alpha Jace: You are no longer heir, you will be a consort at best, now suffer

Aegon: *chilling with his cool husband*

That somebody: wait

Aegon: *no longer has anxiety*

That somebody: WAIT

Aegon: *is loved and has a bunch of babies*

That somebody: WAIT NO

[travatul]

[hoteldreamss]

Aegon Targaryen || imagine

Метки: читательница жена Эйгона; неприязнь к Эйгону со стороны читательницы.

Слов: 685

Эйгон в доспехах выглядит чуть больше, чем он есть на самом деле. Ты смотришь на него скорее с безразличием, нежели с восхищением. Даже если он делал получить его от тебя. Дракон перед ним заигрывает, утыкаясь своей большой мордой в ладони твоего мужа. Тебе не хочется здесь находиться. Безусловно драконы захватывают дух, но ты уже видела их и знала, что эти существа могут быть опасны для обычных людей, например как ты. Несмотря на твой статус, ты не та, кто достоин оседлать дракона, даже если твоя душа чище, чем у Эйгона, разум в разы богаче, а дух сильнее. Дракон достался этому пьянице и развратнику. Что-то внутри тебя каждый раз сжималось от зависти к тому, как Таргариены жили, что имели и очевидно не заслуживали этого. Хотя ты можешь предположить, что Рейенира всё же заслужила трон больше твоего мужа, и она заслужила своего дракона. Ты можешь вспомнить каким милым был Джекейрис, однако ты не знакома с ним близко, и видела его пару раз на семейных ужинах. Но тебе всё равно кажется, что он лучше Эйгона. Может кто угодно будет лучше твоего мужа.

— Хочешь потрогать его? — интересуется он, посмотрев на твою фиг��ру, стоящую как можно дальше.

— Он хочет, чтобы я его потрогала? — интересуешься ты, смотря на Эйгона.

— Он был бы не против, — произносит твой муж, переведя взгляд на дракона. Его улыбка выдаёт радость из-за контакта может быть с единственным существом, которое любило его.

Ты не хочешь подходить к дракону. Несмотря на твоё восхищение этими созданиями, ты знаешь, какими опасными они могут быть. Что уж говорить об их непредсказуемости.

Однако ты делаешь шаг, потому что любопытство сильнее тебя. Твоя сущность ничего не может с собой поделать, когда небольшие каблуки стучат по каменному полу, и ты оказываешься рядом со своим мужем. Он даёт тебе свою руку, ожидая когда ты ответишь ему тем же, и с недоверием, ты кладёшь свою ладонь в его. Перчатки Эйгона из плотной кожи, но они уже впитали либо тепло его дракона, либо его самого. Ты переводишь взгляд на Солнечный Огонь, он не кажется недружелюбным, когда смотрит на тебя.

Твоя ладонь касается его чешуи, его глаза прикрываются на мгновение, будто он наслаждается твоим вниманием. Эйгон держит свою руку над твоей, стоя рядом и продолжая довольно улыбаться.

— Ты ему нравишься, — произносит он, радуясь этому больше, чем ты.

Покосившись на своего мужа, небольшое осознание быстро настигает тебя. И ты спешишь прекратить этот ритуал знакомства. Выдернув руку, ты больше не чувствуешь чешую с неровностями под ладонью, а Солнечный Огонь смотрит на тебя так будто не понял почему ты перестала гладить его.

Эйгон также в лёгком недоумении, но в отличие от своего дракона он знает почему ты это сделала.

— С меня достаточно на сегодня. — Ты отходишь в сторону, возросшая на место, где стояла раньше и наблюдала за всем происходящим.

Эйгон провожает тебя взглядом, пока ты не разворачиваешься к нему, чтобы снова просто наблюдать.

Он даёт приказ, чтобы на дракона надели снаряжение. Когда люди суетятся вокруг, Эйгон подходит к тебе.

— Я хочу твоего благословения, жена. — Самодовольная улыбка на его лице пробуждает в тебе ту часть неприязни к своему мужу, которую ты пыталась подавлять. — Особенно учитывая, что ты королева, благословение пришлось бы кстати.

Он отправляется на войну, и может даже не вернётся. Но ты не чувствуешь тревоги из-за этого. Ты даже дум��ла, что он мог бы не вернуться. Как тогда всё сложится для тебя. Тебе оставят трон? Эймонда заставят стать твоим мужем? Или тебя отправят домой? Ты не хочешь думать о худшем, потому что все варианты не слишком желанны тобой.

— Ты ведь знаешь моё отношение к тебе. Благословения не будет искренним, — произносишь ты, отведя взгляд от Эйгона и смотря на людей, которые крепят седло на дракона.

Он снимает перчатку, и ты вздрагиваешь, почувствовав его тёплую ладонь на щеке. Смотря теперь на своего мужа округлившимися глазами, ты ждёшь каких-нибудь колючих слов, может чего-то похожего на угрозу. Ждёшь, что его голос нехарактерно будет сочиться злобой и подавляемым гневом.

— Когда я вернусь, я вложу в тебя ребёнка, дорогая жена. — Он оставляет быстрый поцелуй на твоих губах, пользуясь моментом удивления сковывающего твоё тело.

Ваши губы разрываются с нехарактерным влажным звуком, слышимым только вам.

Он убирает свою ладонь с твоей щеки, и развернувшись, направляется к дракону, надевая перчатку по пути.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aegon messing with his wife while their in public, grabbing her ass or her waist Just to make her shy cause he thinks she looks cute when she's shy

—

‘’Would you please quit doing that?’’ you subtly hissed at your husband, feeling his hand much too low on your waist as you stood in the throne room, welcoming the guests for the tourney.

Aegon played fool, keeping his eyes on House Baratheon and their knights who just stepped in. ‘’Doing what?’’ He lowered his hand further, causing your cheeks to go red. ‘’Your face is all flushed, my darling wife. Are you alright?’’

He was being naughty on purpose.

‘’Aegon.’’ You reached behind to push his hand off of you, but he did the unthinkable and grabbed your ass. A soft gasp left your lips, catching the queen’s attention.

She glanced at you and saw your red face. ‘’Are you alright, dear?’’ she asked, concerned about your appearance.

You nodded, trying to ignore Aegon’s small smile in your peripheral vision. ‘’Yes, your grace. I’m just…a little hot.’’

Alicent gave you an apologetic look. ‘’Unfortunately, it comes with the pregnancy.’’ She turned to Aegon, putting a hand on his arm and asked him to take you to your chambers. She didn’t want you to pass out in the middle of the throne room, in front of all the guests.

—

House of the Dragon taglist: @anastasiaxsworld @lollypopcrazylover @fin-never @dkathl @ayamenimthiriel @nerdy4itall @rraindrops @glors3 @beelanie @hc-geralt-23 @sweetybuzz25  @uniquenightsheep @kaywsworld @i-yam-awesome @caspianobsessed @kelssssxd @dilfsarebetterthanyou @missyviolet123 @leakycauldrns @brezzybfan @khaleesihavilliard @vexedvalerie @lollaa-puff @my-dark-prince @chevelledahuman @caspianobsessed @ayamenimthiriel @yor72 @mirandastuckinthe80s @newtsniffles @cleverzonkwombatsludge @justaproudslytherpuff @ren-ni @green-lxght @anginoguera @bubblebuttwade @comicsol1999 @rockerchick05 @baelavelaryonwp @tnu-ree @beccawinter @alexisabirdie @persage @hayleighloatx @kindaslightlyacidic @perdynerd @elsyyie @puffycreamcakes  @thirsty4nonlivingmen  @naty-1001 @xannybabyxx  @katiepie67 @kjones375 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl   @queenofshinigamis @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @Wehi02 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz   @cayleecook38 @yoyopolloobamadaddy @hayleighloatx @vane1999-blog @smptxx @fairyfolkloresposts @yassi-world @todaywasafairytale07 @ESobilal @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @Katelyn15m @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @beggarsnotchoosey @vainillasmil157 @kizzyxren @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @Harryshousewhore @kodzuvk @tnu-ree @omgsuperstarg @futuregws @blackravena @ashlatano7567 @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @uh-no-actually @secretsthathauntus @lemiqa @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @Hc-geralt-23 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @mouldyfrog @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @drusillaravenclaw @softtina @Jelly-fishy-babie @evesolstice @Thelilacmourning @dkathl @Thelilacmourning @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @xannybabyxx @pictureofcaroline   @domoron  

[thenamelessghosts]

Aegon b4 todays episode

[dearsnow]

ORANGE JUICE

- you’ve been invited to a party by your ex’s mother. (aegon ii targaryen x gn!reader modern au, pure angst- no rest for the weary) part of the mixtape 2: our version collab ⚠️ mentions of addiction, alcohol, etc.

based on “orange juice” by noah kahan

word count: 774

a/n - i highkey love writing angst, it’s so fun lol

You set your cup down with a sigh, watching the particles of orange pulp swirl in the bright orange liquid. The party has died down. Alicent looks at you with a heavy heart.

It’s been a hard six months. When you heard about Aegon’s formal decision to go sober, you were happy for him. You really were, despite everything. The drinking started when he was only fourteen, and now, when you’re both 26 and hopeless, he has put down the bottle. And he did it for you, in a sick sense.

Your relationship with the Targaryen has always been an interesting one. You met him years ago, and since then, you’ve had an on-and-off flicker of hellfire relationship. You saw how his wrath could shatter plates and put holes in walls, and for a while, you believed that was all you could ever achieve in life. It took prompting from every well-meaning person in your life to break away from him. Like a bad hangover, though, his taste always lingered on the tip of your tongue.

His mother had always liked you. That’s why you’re at her house in the first place, due to an invitation she sent last night. A quick way to let you know that the Targaryens are not done with you and never will be.

A part of you hoped Aegon would show up, but a bigger part of you was still scared of what he would do if he saw you. The last time he talked to you he was on his knees begging. Begging you to stay, even though he didn’t deserve you. There were tears running down his face, more than you had ever seen. His voice was wobbly and gasping, hands clutching at the seams of your pants. He would go sober, he said. Stone-cold. He would never drink or cheat or be angry ever again. If you would stay with him, he would fix everything. You pulled his hands off you and shut the door in his face, legs shaking so badly you thought they would collapse. It was the right thing, you told yourself. It was all for the better.

You take another sip of your orange juice before the front door opens.

You turn to look, suddenly struck by every doubt that had ever swum in your conflicted mind. He is there, standing in the doorway.

His hair is longer, but for once, it’s neatly combed. There are bags under his eyes, blue and bruised and heavy. The sunlight fans out behind him, casting a long shadow on the hardwood floor. Your heart stops beating yet picks up its pace at the same time. He walks in, wilting slightly under your gaze. He doesn’t smell like booze.

“There’s orange juice in the kitchen. Everything else has been put away.” Your voice comes out scratchy and hoarse, like you swallowed sawdust. He is the saw.

“Thanks.” His tone is unsure, and so are his wobbling steps. You can’t see it, but tears fill his eyes.

In truth, he knew he could never deserve you. He knew it from the moment you met, when the sun was hitting your eyes just right and your shadow was touching his. He knew, and yet he went and fucked everything up.

He thinks, scornfully, that loving you was the best thing that ever happened to him and the worst thing that ever happened to you. You are kind and loving and your hands are as soft as your heart. He is all rough edges that have never been ground down by the push and pull of the tide of life. It just made him gritty and broken.

He told himself that he would fix everything once you left him. It worked a little bit, admittedly. He hasn’t touched a bottle in six months and the holes in his walls have been patched. He wants you back so badly- he craves your presence like nothing else. He craves you more than he craves the alcohol. But he walks away, into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of orange juice surely bought for his younger relatives.

You don’t follow him, and in that moment, he hopes you never do. You could never deserve his whirlwind and the destruction it brings, and he will never force you to again.

He takes a sip of juice straight from the bottle. The acidity burns his chapped lips and chewed cheeks. He puts the container back in the fridge, tears slipping their way down his face.

He walks out of his old home, past you, and hopes you will never look back for him.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Taglist (bolded means unable to tag): @mmmimilan @its-halleys-comet @savagemickey03 @persephonesportal @lovelyliliya @the-jess-life @spaceandstars @bbosica @hopelesswritergall @watercolorskyy @m00nkn1ghts @panelhone @i-killed-ramsey

[22degreehalo]

On the road with Larys, Aegon must miss Jaehaera fiercely.

His only daughter. Whose brother was murdered in his own house while he slept. Now left behind to face dragonfire with nothing but the hope that his mother and wife will protect her.

It's a good thing she's a girl, at least. If Jaehaerys hadn't already been killed, Aemond might well finish him off to secure himself as heir. As a girl, Jaehaera will never be a threat.

Did he even get to see her while he was recovering? Maybe he refused, claiming that she'd only be scared of him.

Does he see her in all the little children of the smallfolk he passes? The boys watching in on their dads' work, just like he tried to have with Jaehaerys? Playing with their little dragon toys, wide-eyed and innocent?

[takenbythestarcatchers]

I thought I was done with my fictional boyfriend era until 2022 came around. Now look at me… I’m a whore people who either have helpless doe eyes or look like they’re dead instead. Thanks 2022. You sucked but you brought some beauty’s into my life ✨❤️

[weird-addiction]

When I just wanted to read fluff Aegon fics but finding out it’s still smut half way through

LIKE IS IT TO HARD TO FIND A FLUFF FIC IN THE HOTD FANDOM?!?!????!???

[agentmilayawithshield]

Sunfyre learning Common Tongue because Aegon never learned how to speak in Valyrian

[hotdjoking]

Don't mind me I'm just over here thinking about Aegon <3

[ziyuanyuan1113]

"She who, without asking, understood it all and still came to her fate."

Helaena Targaryen trapped in prophecy

Updated and fixed version on Insta

Also posted on Twitter/X

[travatul]

My dragons 🌝