#aegon targaryen imagines

[spider-stark]

PRECIPICE

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

Warnings - implied targcest as always

Word Count - 4.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

The delicious aroma of roast mutton is wafting over you as you pass one of the many long serving tables lining the walls of the ballroom. Your gaze drags along the vast spread that has been prepared for tonight; a variety of artisan breads, cooked meats, and candied desserts are laid out upon silver serving dishes. 

As you reach the end of the first table, a pile of lemon cakes snag your attention. Neatly stacked atop an ornate porcelain platter, the cakes are coated in a thin glaze that shimmers in the light. Your mouth instantly begins watering at the sight, your stomach growling in a way that would be deemed improper for a Lady. 

Beside you, holding a plate that has been loaded with mashed potatoes and honeyed chicken, Jace turns his head to cock a brow at you.

“Hungry?” He asks, chuckling softly. 

You suck in a deep breath before forcefully tearing your gaze from the cakes. “Extremely.” 

It takes an enormous amount of will power to turn away from the serving table while still empty-handed, but you somehow manage to do just that. Having hardly even walked a few steps, though, Jace is abandoning his plate to rush after you, softly seizing your wrist to keep you from moving any further. 

“If you’re hungry, then you should eat.” 

His concern is obvious, not only through his tone, but his expression as well. With his furrowed brow and tight-mouthed frown, you’re fairly certain that he’s already considering the consequences of dragging you back to the table and feeding you himself if need be. 

Jace had always been that way—not only with you, but with everyone. He was kind hearted and considerate to fault. 

“I would,” you smile, shaking your head slightly to dismiss his concern, “but I’m afraid that if I do, I might very well pop right on out of this ridiculously tight corset.” 

You wave an idle hand down to your waist, unnaturally cinched by the intricate lacing and boning of the garment beneath your evergreen gown. His eyes follow the motion, tracing along the intense curve, lingering for a moment too long. 

The explanation seems to wash away much of his concern, relieved to know that discomfort was the only reason you had chosen to abstain from the treats being served. Even so, a touch of empathy remains, accompanied by the faintest hint of desire gleaming in his amber gaze. 

Amber—an unusual color for a boy of Velaryon blood. His eyes were one of the many reasons that your mother, the Queen Alicent, felt so confident in labeling Princess Rhaenyra’s boys as bastards behind closed doors. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that there was likely truth to her claims. Your nephews probably were bastards—but you didn’t particularly care. 

Jace was nice to you, and that was all that had ever mattered to you. 

He clears his throat, realizing that he had been gawking at your body for far longer than he should. “It looks uncomfortable,” the words spill out without permission, and you nearly laugh when his eyes go wide. “That didn’t come out right, nothing about it actually looks uncomfortable—it looks stunning! I mean, you look stunning! It’s just that, I don’t know, I imagine that having something squeeze you so tightly might be-” 

“Jace, it’s okay! Truly,” you interrupt his rambling with a soft giggle. “You should know that I’m not so easily offended,” you playfully chide. “Besides, you’re right. It is quite uncomfortable!” 

Actually, quite felt like an enormous understatement. But you didn’t figure that Jace was particularly interested in hearing about how your breasts were aching from being roughly shoved up by the tight garment. 

Jace looses a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Then why bother wearing them? Many noble-women go without corsets. Even my mother hardly ever wears one—she believes they’re vile things that only aid in the objectification of ladies.” 

Your brows rise, agreeing with the claims of your half-sister. But then you let your attention shift to the dais, meeting the rough stare of the reason why you had been forced into the tortuous garb—your mother. 

She’s already watching you when you meet her eye, her lip curled as she sends you a pointed look, silently urging you away from your nephew. It takes a great deal of effort not to shrink beneath the weight of her attention, and you’re beyond grateful for the group of women who shuffle past you towards the dance floor, giving you an excuse to break the hold she has on you. 

“I wear it because my mother wishes for all of her children to look their best,” you answer, shifting your focus back onto Jace. “And who am I to disappoint the Queen?” 

He notes the sudden callousness of your tone, as well as the way you clasp your hands together at your waist, fidgeting with the golden ring on your index finger. He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, however, knowing well enough that you were not—and already knowing why, as well. 

You imagine that Jace doesn’t much like your mother; both for her part in the rumors spread about him and his brothers and for the way she has treated his mother. 

It makes you upset in a strange way, a part of you always wishing to defend the Queen, no matter how abhorrent her actions. After all, she was your mother—whether you like it or not—and you knew very well that if someone were to try to hurt you or your siblings, then she would gladly lay her life on the line for you. 

You were thankful for her; even if her protection hurt, even if her maternal love only exists when your life is at stake.  

“Speaking of your siblings,” Jace suddenly notes, veering slightly off-subject as his own stare drifts towards the dais, “how did Aegon manage to weasel his way out of attending tonight?” 

Your brows snap together before letting your head snap back towards the dais, managing to avoid your mother’s nasty stare this time by looking to her right, taking note of each of your siblings. 

Aemond is sat directly by her side, his posture rigid as his eye scans across the room, alert and on-guard as usual. Next to him is Helaena, leisurely picking at her plate of food and mindlessly bobbing her head along to the symphony being played for court musicians. Daeron, who your mother insisted fly Tessarion here from Oldtown so that he might be present for tonight, is sat next to your empty chair, making idle chatter with those around him. 

But Aegon’s chair, sat between yours and Helaena’s, is vacant. 

A knot forms in your stomach when you look back at Aemond, his piercing violet eye catching yours, gleaming with a silent order—find our imbecile brother before he makes a fool of us all. 

You give him a curt nod before looking away, head whirling as you begin searching the crowd around you for any sign of your eldest brother. 

“Simple,” you huff, “he didn’t.” 

Jace hums his understanding as you politely excuse yourself, turning away from him to begin shoving through the throng of people filling the room. 

You decline invitations to dance and spout excuses as to why you can’t stop to chat as you push past noblemen-and-women from various Houses, trying to maintain the pleasant persona your mother favored while still moving fast enough that you might find Aegon before he finds any new ways to publicly bring shame upon the Targaryen name.  

It’s exhausting work—and by the time you have shoved yourself to the other end of the room without finding him, you nearly consider giving up. Your chest hurts and your scalp is itching from being poked and prodded by a dozen or so pins, all of which had been meticulously placed by servants to arrange plaits into a fanciful half-updo. 

In many ways, you look like your mother; with your elaborate hairstyle and green dress, the look is tied together by a pendant of the Seven-Pointed Star dangling from your neck. 

And, in many ways, you hate it. 

Much to the Queen’s dismay, you’ve never much liked the elegant styles preferred by many women at court. No, instead you spent much of your time donning mail with your hair lazily pulled back, joining Aemond for practice in the training yard. 

She hated how unrefined you were, how indelicate you were; fearful for how others at court might view you for it, for how much attention you might draw to yourself. 

You blow out a sigh, resisting the urge to pull all of the pins from your hair as you will yourself to keep walking, to keep looking for Aegon. A table overflowing with carafes of arbor wine and flagons of ale catches your attention, setting off alarm bells in your mind. 

If Aegon were going to choose anywhere to hide at this godsforsaken ball, then it would certainly be in close proximity to the alcohol. 

A cacophony of laughter and clinking goblets surrounds you as you approach, scanning over rows of bottles and skimming the faces of those nearby. Spinning your ring on your finger, you walk along the entire length of the long serving table, disappointed when you reach the end of it and find that your brother is still nowhere in sight. 

Chewing on your cheek, you fight the urge to pour yourself a drink when you notice a carafe of blackberry wine. The plum colored liquid seems to call your name, singing promises of sweet oblivion, an escape from the restless feeling clawing at your chest. 

You’re out of place here in court, and you always have been—you know that, and you worry that everyone around you knows, too. 

Sensical enough to recognize that alcohol would likely just exacerbate your current ill-feelings, you shun the carafe and turn towards the grand entrance. Lifting your chin and squaring your shoulders, you try to appear more composed than you feel as you saunter towards the large wooden doors. 

If Aegon had snuck off with one of the serving girls, then there was a good chance that he was still somewhere in the hall, either flirting or feeling up their skirts. And, if you were wrong, then at least he had provided you with an excuse to slip away from this mess of a ball. 

As you pass by the last serving table, the platters and dishes atop it already thoroughly picked over, you feel someone tug at your dress. You whirl around, a fiery retort already falling off your tongue, fully intending to rip into whoever had found the audacity to touch you without permission—only to find yourself insulting the air. 

There was no one there, at least not close enough to have touched you. 

For a heartbeat you begin to reel, wondering if you’ve started to lose your mind before feeling the sensation again. A sharp tug at the fabric, just by your knee. Your head snaps down towards your dress, covering your mouth before a gasp can slip your lips. 

An arm is peeking out from beneath one of the finely embellished tablecloths, and a well-groomed hand is clutching your skirts. You instantly recognize the hand as Aegon’s, having become intimately familiar with your brother’s touch throughout your life. 

Taking a step closer to the covered table, you try to look natural as you hunch over it slightly to get closer to his level, feigning an interest in a half-eaten roast duck. 

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing, Aegon?!” Your voice is hushed, not quite a whisper, but low enough so that no one other than him might hear. 

Releasing his hold on your skirts, Aegon lifts the tablecloth a little higher, revealing his face. “Get under here,” he tilts his head, motioning for you to join him beneath the table. 

“No!” 

He swiftly presses a finger to his lips in response to your incredulous shout, shushing you. You stiffen, nervously flicking your eyes to each side, checking to ensure that no one had heard you. Fortunately, the courtiers around you appear far too invested in their conversations and drinks to notice how you appear to have shouted at a roast duck. 

Aegon’s lilac eyes are wide, pleading as he shoves the tablecloth up higher, giving you more room to slip beneath it. “Would you just shut up and come?” 

It’s the sheer urgency of his tone that piques your interest, although you wish that it hadn’t. You huff out an annoyed sigh, taking another look around the room before gathering up your skirts and sinking to your knees, crawling underneath the table. 

Once you’ve successfully sat down beside him on the stone floor, he drops the cloth, shielding the two of you from any prying eyes. The material is thin enough that it allows some light to pass through it, very dimly illuminated Aegon’s grinning face, all urgency having suddenly vanished. 

“Welcome,” he almost sounds breathless, the word airy—and utterly unnecessary. 

You can faintly see the rosy coloring of his cheeks, a few messy silver waves tumbling across his face, and you’re immediately willing to bet that he’s extremely buzzed. “What are you doing, Aeg?” 

Your tone is firm, but there’s a certain gentleness to it that was specially reserved for your eldest brother. While you maintain that you love all three of them equally, it’s undeniable that your relationship with Aegon has always been… different. 

He reaches to his side, lifting a carafe from the ground beside him. “Having a party,” he says, raising it towards your face and playfully swirling the garnet colored liquid. 

“I’m unsure if you’re aware,” you motion towards the cloth shrouding you from the bustling ballroom, “but our mother has already planned quite the celebration for tonight—and she likely does not wish for it to be ruined by her drunkard son ducking beneath tables like an imbecile!” 

Aegon pokes his bottom lip out into a pout. “Why must you assume that I am drunk?” 

“Because you’re you,” you drone, cocking your head at him, “and you are always drunk.” 

Rolling his eyes, he sits the carafe down on the ground between you. There are only mere inches separating the two of you, both of you squeezing your limbs close to your body to avoid having a foot peek out from beneath the table. Sitting this close to him, you can smell the sweetness of the arbor red of his breath—as well as the faintest hint of sulfur, a sign that he had clearly gone riding on Sunfyre earlier and had failed at washing off the dragon’s strong scent. 

You take another breath, inhaling the smell of him into your lungs. It was familiar—comfortable, urging your taut muscles to slacken in his presence. 

“And what if I told you that I am sober right now?” 

A snort escapes you, sparing him an incredulous look. “Then I would call you a liar,” you tell him, tapping a finger against the rim of the half-empty carafe. 

His stare drops down towards it, watching as the liquid ripples when you pull your hand back. When he looks back up, he’s wearing a crooked smile that makes your heart flutter. “Mostly sober, then.” 

It’s nearly impossible to stifle your laugh, clamping a hand over your mouth so that you might muffle the sound and prevent passersby from becoming suspicious. The sound only makes his smile grow wider and more genuine, an expression that he graced very few people with. 

“I’ll ask again,” you say, speaking only when you're confident that no more laughter will tumble out. “Why are you down here? If mother finds out then she will be furious and-” 

Aegon tosses his head back, cutting you off with a groan. “Mother will be furious no matter what,” 

Disdain drips from each syllable, thickening the air around you. He didn’t like talking about her much, and you couldn’t blame him for it. Of all your siblings, Aegon had been dealt the worst hand, simply by being born first. He got the brunt of your mothers vile behavior; and you hated that, too. 

“Because,” lazily rolling his neck so that he can look at you again, he answers, “I’d rather spend my night under here,” he flicks a hand up, lazily gesturing around himself, “than be forced to sit through even one more tedious speech from some ancient Lord of gods-know-where!” 

You bite your tongue, holding back another laugh. 

“And,” he continues, nodding in your direction, “I am now saving you from the same mundane fate. You’re welcome.” 

“What makes you think that I needed your saving?” You ask, brows rising. 

Aegon purses his lips, placing a finger against his chin as he feigns contemplation, studying the intricate styling of your hair, the modest long-sleeved gown, and the Star resting against your covered breasts. “Perhaps it was that our mother has you dressed up as though you’re an aspiring Septa.” 

Thinking of the plain women, with their simple gowns and traditional head coverings, you nearly laugh again as you ask, “How many Septa’s do you know that wear corsets and jewelry, brother?” 

“None,” he admits, shoulders lifting into an indolent shrug. “Though, if they looked more like you, then I might finally have a reason to attend prayer. Beautiful women would be more than enough to turn me into a pious man.” 

A warmth creeps up your neck as blood rushes to your cheeks, unsure if his statement was meant as a compliment—was he saying that he found you beautiful? If so, it shouldn’t have been a particularly shocking revelation. After all, Aegon had complimented you before, many times. 

In all fairness, however, most of those times had been when he was thoroughly besotted. He had a habit of sneaking into your rooms and practically draping himself off of you, muttering drunken nonsense about how breathtaking you were. You had never placed much truth in the statements though, assuming that Aegon likely didn’t even recognize who he was speaking to, much less whose bed he had crawled into. 

But even if this was a genuine and mostly sober attempt at complimenting you, the flattery of it doesn’t last nearly long enough. Your own insecurity washes back over you far quicker than you like, reminding you of just how unlike yourself you currently feel. 

“I do not believe that anything would be capable of turning you into a pious man,” you joke, trying and failing to cover up the melancholy that has settled into your bones. “Not even beautiful women.” 

“You could.” 

The answer comes far too quick, spilling from his tongue with an eagerness that even seems to catch him by surprise. 

“Though, I must say, for as exquisite as this dress makes you look,” his hand reaches across the short expanse dividing you, mindlessly running his fingers along the fabric covering your shoulder, “I much prefer the way look in armor—sweaty skin, messy hair, sword in-hand—all of it.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch drifts towards the center of your chest, fingers dragging along the thin chain leading to your pendant, lifting the Star into his palm. He stares at it for a moment before yanking it roughly from your neck, grinning when you yelp. “But this,” he lifts the Seven-Pointed Star slightly, “I absolutely hate.” 

With that, he tosses it from underneath the table, sending it skittering across the floor beyond the tablecloth. 

Your jaw drops open, a hand pressed against the now-sore spot along the back of your neck. Despite yourself, your lips start to curve into a playful smile. You try fighting against it, try pressing them into a firm line, but fail. “Mother will not be happy about that-” 

“She’s never happy,” Aegon interjects. His own expression shifts, the line on his forehead deepening as he says, “Do not let yourself bear her misery. Life is too short—and you deserve more than that.” 

A palpable silence is thickening the air, and your breathing seems to synchronize as you simply stare at one another. 

Slowly, nervously, you say, “I’m not sure what it is that I deserve,” 

“You deserve,” he pauses, lips still parted despite the absence of speech. Then, swallowing back the words that had been building in his throat, he says, “you deserve whatever it is that you want, sister.” 

Your hand falls from your neck into your lap, and you avert your gaze, watching your fingers as they fidget with your ring. “And what if I do not know what I want?” 

Once, you had thought that you wanted a life like Jaces. A happy life, with a mother that knew how to love you and siblings that hadn’t been raised in fear of their half-sister ascending the throne, taught that their very existence was a threat to her power. But, suddenly, you felt as though you were no longer sure. 

Aegon hesitates, watching you carefully. His lilac eyes appear as though they’re searching for something within your own—a hint of recognition, or reciprocation. If he found what he was looking for, then you were unaware. “Then you’ll figure it out,” he sighs, his smile not reaching his eyes. “You have all the time in the world to decide.” 

There is something reassuring about his statement, making it resonate with you in a way that you hadn’t expected. You look up, holding his gaze for a heartbeat, then two, and you almost swear that you can see it—the silent invitation, the plea to delve deeper into his words, to decipher exactly what it was that he was promising you. 

You have all the time in the world—all the time in the world to decide if he might ever be something you want. 

Suddenly you find yourself dancing on the edge of a precipice, chest tightening as you grapple with the idea that, maybe, something more might exist between you and Aegon. 

That, maybe, he had always known who he was complimenting and what bed he was slipping into. 

That, for him, it had always been you. 

“Aegon, I-” 

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you have a chance to say something that he fears you may regret. Then, sliding the carafe between you to the side, he scoots closer. “If you plan on staying under my table,” he teases, clearing his throat, “then we need to do something about your hair.” 

“I thought you said I looked exquisite?” You stay still as he starts toying with the strands, trying to swallow the tumult of your own emotions. 

Aegon’s plucking various pins from your hair, tossing them to the ground. “Yes, but I also said that I prefer your hair when it’s messy. It’s more…” he sucks in a breath, unable to hide the admiration swelling in his chest when he finally exhales, “you.” 

Your cheeks are burning hot, and you’re suddenly very thankful for the lack of light around you. On instinct, you almost tell him how your mother wouldn’t agree—but then you think better of it. 

“You’re… generous.” 

Something about your voice sounds foreign in your ears. You sound nervous—and you’re not used to feeling nervous around Aegon. 

His fingers are combing through the plaits forming your updo, his brow drawn taut, framing his lilac eyes, shining bright with concentration. “Generous,” he snorts softly, nails raking lightly against your scalp as he shakes the strands loose, “I don’t hear that one often.” 

“Well perhaps you’d hear it more if you weren’t such an ass,” you shoot back, slowly trying to slip back into your usual self. 

“Me? An ass?” He’s untangled the final braid, scooting away from you slightly now as he presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “Never.” 

Now falling in loose waves, free of those incessant pins, you brush your hair over your shoulder. “Just earlier I heard you telling Lord Grover that if wisdom were measured in wrinkles that he would be named Grand Maester.” You point out, unable to mask your amusement while recalling the old man’s shocked expression. 

“Is it not true?” Aegon smirks. “The man is nearly seventy, and his age certainly shows.” 

“Lord Grover is only two-and-fifty, brother.” 

His brows shoot up, gaping at you. “Tell me that you’re not serious!” When you nod, confirming that you are, he sucks his teeth. “Wow—how unfortunate. He looks positively dreadful for his age, then. I thought that he surely had one foot in the grave by now.” 

“Aegon!” You rebuke through your own sputtered laughter, shaking your head at his insolence. “See? This is what I was talking about! If you weren’t so crude then you might get more compliments.” 

Swinging his arm back to grab for the carafe, Aegon’s nose scrunches slightly. “Why bother?” He implores, a hint of mischief in his tone. “My crudeness is what you like most about me, is it not? Without it, dear sister, your life would be quite boring.” 

Just before he brings the carafe to his lips, he inclines his head towards the tablecloth, emphasizing his words. A reminder—that, without him, you would still be out there, sitting miserably amongst your siblings and being forced to dance with Lord’s twice your age. 

There was something more beneath the veil of humor and arrogance, however. A craving that had him tipping the carafe back, hoping that the stinging of the alcohol might numb his gnawing desire for validation—to hear you say that you yes, my life would be boring without you. 

“I suppose you’re right,” the admission has him pausing, the carafe lingering against his bottom lip. “Truth be told, I had never put much thought into it before, but you do have a way of keeping life interesting, Aeg. So, I must agree that, without you, my life would be positively dreadful.” Staring at the ground in-between you, you smile before adding, “After all, who else would be able to convince me to risk our mother’s scorn and crawl beneath a table to drink wine and fix my hair?” 

There’s a slight tremor in his voice when he speaks, trying to mask the warmth swelling in his chest, “You have yet to drink a single drop.” 

“Then I suppose that is the next thing you’ll have to fix,” you say, sticking your hand out towards him, urging him to pass you the carafe. He hands it to you while biting back a grin. 

“Careful,” he warns, “drink too much and you may end up like your drunkard brother.” 

“I don't mind,” You mirror his expression, your own lips curving as you raise the glass upwards, the strong scent of the arbor red stinging your nostrils. “I quite like my drunkard brother.” 

His gaze burns against your flesh as you tilt your head back, allowing the alcohol to slip over your tongue, and you suddenly realize that you are no longer standing on the edge of that precipice. 

You’re falling.

a/n - i was honestly just thinking about jude and cardan hiding under a table in the cruel prince and ended up with this? so yeah, definitely inspired by jurdan content (but y'know... no coup d'etat lmao).

[multific]

The Duty of a Queen

Aegon Targaryen x Witch! Reader

Season 2 Ep 5 SPOILERS!

Summary: The day you knew would always come finally arrived. His skin stuck to his armour, his leg broken, your heart broken. You will heal your husband back to health, after all, it was your duty as Queen.

You gave the guards a dark look. 

“Leave us.” 

“But the Queen ins-“

“I am your Queen. Leave!” you never even raised your voice. But your words held power, power they could not deny.

Soon, they both left. 

You let out a long sigh as you looked at your husband in your bed. He was bandaged up. Half of his body burnt. 

You clicked your jaw, Aemond would pay even if it meant pulling out his chair before he could sit down for a Council meeting. 

He will pay for this. 

You knew this would happen. Your powers showed this to you long before. 

A future, with him injured and in need of help. 

You already helped his dragon, now it was his turn.

You walked up to him. Seeing him like this broke your heart. 

He looked so broken as he slept. 

You placed your hand over his face. Concentrating, you let out a long breath and focus all of your energy and power on him. 

You focused but when you heard him let out a groan, you stopped.

He then slowly opened his eyes.

You did manage to heal his face a little, but you were nowhere near done.

You gave him a small smile.

"It must hurt, I wish to take away some of the pain, but I can't Aegon. I'm sorry." his eyes softened. 

You moved to your side of the bed and laid down. He watched you as you placed your hand into his.

"I will heal you, but first you must become stronger. I cannot heal you like this, you will die." he opened his mouth to speak but only a rumble of noise came out and a groan.

"It's okay, Aegon, you do not have to talk. I will stay by your side." he moved his head a little in a small nod.

You smiled at him once more before letting him continue his sleep.

You knew you needed to wait. 

You knew you needed to keep your cool.

You knew the future, you knew what you needed to do.

The Blacks think that Aegon is weak, but they don't know you will be able to heal him. 

You knew you would win.

But for now, all you need to do is to look after your husband and help him get back on his feet.

You did burn a candle and sent more madness towards Rhaenyra's husband, much like how you felt with Aegon sleeping in your bed in agony, you wished the same upon Daemon.

You will have your revenge.

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[brokenmenswhore]

not sure if you take fic requests BUT:

aegon getting woken up with head 🙏

i think this man would only accept head as his alarm 😭

this man would wake up, see you’re still asleep, and then lay there for HOURS with his eyes closed waiting for you to wake up so you can see his eyes closed and give him head to wake him

morning ritual | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x reader

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), oral (male receiving)

────── ☾ ──────

There was only one way Aegon accepted waking up.

The first time you tried it, you were nervous about overstepping. Your eyes fluttered open, a small stream of sunlight illuminating the bed, and better yet, Aegon. He looked ethereal when he was asleep, hair tousled, the top of his chest visible over the sheets.

You rolled over onto your stomach, your eyes tracing every contortion of his features: his hair, his eyes, his lips, his throat, his chest- the sheet was blocking everything else. So as not to wake him, you slowly moved the sheets lower and lower, admiring the flesh of his stomach before finally exposing him to the morning light.

Aegon never slept with any clothes on. After ruthlessly pounding into you every night, he would usually roll over and pass out, never caring about re-covering himself. He was comfortable with you, and he saw no point in covering up.

Lucky for you, it made the idea that popped into your head much easier to make a reality.

You slowly shifted down the bed, careful not to prematurely wake him, curling your body up onto your knees as you moved between his legs, leveling your head with his cock.

You took the muscle in one hand, holding it firm against your tongue as you licked a strip from the base of his cock to the tip, finally sinking your mouth onto as much as you could handle. He was big, but you were getting better and better at deepthroating him.

You began to move your head up and down, tasting every inch of him as you moved your hair to one side of your head, allowing you to continue unobstructed.

Aegon stirred lightly, the feeling slowly hitting him as he tossed and turned ever so slightly. You looked up at him, your need to make him feel good growing stronger and stronger as you watched him in his sleep, reacting genuinely to the feeling of your mouth around him.

You moved your hand up to cup his balls, squeezing gently to help coax him out of sleep.

Aegon whimpered, a feeling of arousal creeping between your legs at the sound. His breathing began to quicken a bit, his mouth falling open to allow for his sighs and whines.

You continued to bob your head, running your tongue over his tip to add to his pleasure as he finally blinked his eyes open, slowly looking down and meeting your gaze, finally aware of exactly what was happening. Once he saw you, he threw his head back, relaxing against the sheets as his hands found their way to the back of your head.

He didn’t have the energy to push your head down or to fuck up into your mouth, having just woken up, so he simply kept his hands on your hair to make it known he didn’t want you to stop as he let you continue to suck him on your own.

In his awakeness, his whining grew louder, not quite a moan but light little whimpers of your name or a string of curses anytime you ran your tongue over the slit at his tip or squeezed his balls particularly tightly.

Despite his closed eyes, you kept your gaze focused on him, watching him come undone from what you were doing to him. You loved to see your effect on him; he had been with countless women before, but he was never truly in love with one. Sex with you was different; you had more control over him, you truly cared enough to learn exactly what he liked and how he liked it. You knew how to make him come undone. He adored you more than anyone in his life, and he loved the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, drawing him closer and closer to his high the way no one else truly could.

Usually he would have to hold a woman’s head down and fuck their mouth, using them as a method to get himself off, but with you, he didn’t have to do a thing. He still sometimes would, of course, but simply knowing you were between his legs, eyes looking up at him, consumed in him, was enough.

His breathing quickened, his high approaching closer and closer. You picked up the pace, a large sigh leaving Aegon’s lips as he started to slowly lift his hips, using all his energy to help you make him come.

His clock twitched as his orgasm approached, a whimper of your name leaving his lips as his seed shot to the back of your throat, the feeling almost making you gag. The salty liquid spilled out, allowing you to suck his cock clean of it all, swallowing the load and sticking your tongue out to him to show you had taken it all, something he always asked you to do.

Aegon turned his head to look down at you, wiping the sweat-slicked hair from your forehead and tucking it behind your ear as he saw your tongue, cleaned of any orgasm remnants.

“Good job, angel,” he breathed, “what did I do to deserve such a wonderful wake-up call?”

Ever since then, Aegon has refused to get out of bed without spilling his seed down your throat.

You woke up first, like you had (at least appeared to) most mornings, to find him asleep, naked, and waiting. He often tried to fall asleep on his back with his legs open, a sure sign of eagerness for his usual good morning.

You rolled over, taking the familiar place between his thighs, your mouth kissing his tip before settling down on his length. Aegon immediately groaned, almost as if the second your lips touched him, his body ignited and he woke himself up enthusiastically.

“Shit,” he sighed, forcing his eyes open to watch you this time, your gaze meeting his and only making him crazy.

“I-I think I’ve started dreaming ab-bout this,” Aegon breathed, “almost makes me w-anna go to s-sleep.”

You lifted off of him for a moment, stroking him gently with your hand. “Anything for you, my king. I’m glad you like our morning ritual.”

“Like it?” he choked out, “I love it.”

You smiled in response, lowering your mouth down again, causing him to throw his head backwards and arch his back slightly, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth. The feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat made him feral, and he began to fuck your mouth.

Aegon was usually not very rough during your mornings; he did not have energy in the morning and was happy to feel the slow, sensual intimacy of your gesture. However, he went to sleep last night only so that he could awaken to your mouth on him, and his body was ready the second his head hit the pillow. The mornings were becoming one of the best parts of his days.

Aegon fisted his hands through your hair, holding you in place as he continued to lift his hips, focusing on ensuring that his cock hit your throat with every single thrust.

You started to gag, an involuntary noise leaving your mouth with each hit, only egging him on more and more. He loved to hear you; it only added to his arousal when he knew the noises you made were all for him, a pure reaction from your body to his.

His roughness was unusual for the mornings, and it drove you crazy. You couldn’t help yourself, you moved a hand between your legs and began to touch yourself, the feeling of Aegon fucking your throat combined with his pretty moans was too much for you to simply sit there and do nothing.

Aegon noticed your actions, a “fuck,” “you’re so fucking perfect, shit,” and “so fucking hot,” leaving his lips as he viciously thrusted up into your mouth, your eyes fighting to stay open and trained on him.

“I’m gonna- fuck,” he moaned, his back arching again as he came. You continued sucking, ensuring you pulled every last drop before swallowing and presenting him with your tongue.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“Good morning to you, too,” you smiled.

Aegon gestured for you to hug him, your body pressed against his as your cheek rested on his chest. He kissed your temple, looking toward the window to see how much sunlight was out. “Can we just stay in bed forever?”

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Imagine Aegon’s cock bullied Helaena’s tight cunt repeatedly watching as you rode her face. They had been tasked to produce another heir but neither desired the other however the married siblings had one person in common they both desired, you, Helaena’s lady in waiting. You were unsuspecting for a while before the couple approached you. Now you rocked your hips as your queen slurped on your dripping pussy, head thrown back and moaning like a whore. Eyes slows trailed in front of you growing wetter as you watched the king drive his cock over and over into his sister-wife moaning your name instead. His eyes blown wide as he watched you rock your hips over his sister-wife’s face. His grip tightened on Helaena’s leg that was thrown over his shoulder and his pace picked up. Helaena moaned at the new pace which sent vibrations into your pussy. You moaned louder before leaning down and began rubbing circles over the Queen’s swollen clit. Helaena cried out but did not stop for a second from licking and fingering your cunt even as she came on her brother-husband’s cock. Aegon groaned and soon followed after her with a growl of your name. Your giggles faded into moans as Helaena continued to eat you up until your were squirting on her face much to her and Aegon’s delight.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Warning: just Aegon but it’s a thought that needed to be said.

Aegon is the type that when he doesn’t get your full, undivided attention, he’ll act like a fucking cat and push everything off of the table and or shelf until you do.

You’re reading a book?

It’s on the floor now and he’s curled up in your lap and giving you those sad, wet, puppy eyes.

You’re talking to someone else?

He’s making a scene by pushing a pitcher of wine off of the table and now the poor servants have to clean up after him.

You’re about to go to sleep?

Good look doing that when he’s on top of you and probably crushing you under his weight but Aegon doesn’t care because he’s content and leeching off of your warmth like the needy cat he is.

[aemondwhoresworld]

hotd2 spoilers Aegon Targaryen — House Of The Dragon S2E3

[aemonds-favorite-rider]

"His Fathers Likeness."

Aegon x Sister Wife! Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Sister! Reader.

a/n i had this plot sitting in my head all day and had to write it. For reasons unknown other than that's just how i wrote it, you take Helaena's place as only TargTower daughter.

The Red Keep had been bustling since the birth of the latest Targaryen babe, the first of Prince Aegon and his sister-wife Princess (Y/n). Prince Rhaegar was born with the typical Targaryen features of bright hair and lilac eyes, the new sweet little prince was all anybody could talk of. Aegon, ever the proud father flaunts his first born son around the place. A hint of pride behind his eyes as he struts around the place.

Even in his drunken stupor he would wrap an arm around one of his knights and speak of how his son looks just as him. Despite all this excitement, it still doesn't stop Aegon from his behavior. Spending afternoons with his son and sister wife and his cock buried in some whore by nightfall.

Princess (Y/n) who was far used to his behavior since childhood merely took it all with a grain of salt, her hope of settling Aegon gone the day after their own wedding, when he snuck away before their second night shared in favor of some Lyseni whore of the night. Not to say he doesn't spend nights with his own wife of course,no he adores his sweet sister wife despite all. He can remember their wedding night those few of years ago. What Aegon cannot remember, and what he'll blame on another one of his drunken spells, is the night you both conceived your son.

Aemond does though...

Aemond remembers the way your back arched under him, your gorgeous tits lifting and heaving as you whined his name under him. The delicious sound of your wet cunt slapped against his cock and balls as he thrust so deeply and hard. Telling you that you were always his, how you'll always be his. The way the i love you slips so loosely from your lips, having done this well for over a year now. Stolen glances and kisses exchanged during the day where more depraved and hungry acts happen in the nights of Aegon's absence. The love between you two more passionate and alive than the love you had for Aegon. Aemond was the proudest father, and it almost broke him to know he could never possibly display it publicly. Nonetheless, the routine changes to spending nights curled up in your bed with your sweet little boy courtesy of the secret passage conveniently leading from his room to yours. Often spending his nights caring for you as you healed from the birth and helping you with the babe, or holding you close to his chest on nights Rhaegar spent with his wet nurse. Aemond would of course be gone in the early morning hours.

Aegon strolls into the small council room with little Rhaegar in his arms, a proud grin on his face as he holds up the cooing babbling baby.

"Does he not look just like his father, Aemond?" He boasts with a smirk. Aemond fights the smirk threatening his lips before humming.

"Yes. The babe looks just like his father, I agree."

[sachaa-ff]

Aegon Targaryen x little sister Targaryen

Aegon was always very closed of his little sister Daeris, but when he was in aged to get married his mother the queen alicent decided to not choose Daeris for him, too afraid of what the both of them were capable..

Request are open 🫶🏼

Bound by fire

In the heart of the Red Keep, Aegon Targaryen often felt the weight of his crown pressing down on him, a reminder of the responsibilities and expectations that came with the throne. Yet, amidst the court’s scheming and whispers, there was one person who understood him completely: his younger sister, Daeris. From their earliest days, they had shared a bond that transcended the confines of royal duty, a connection forged in laughter and secret dreams.

As children, they often escaped the confines of the palace, sneaking into the gardens where the scent of blooming roses mingled with the promise of adventure. In those moments, they would share their hopes and fears, each confiding in the other as if they were the only two souls in a vast, uncaring world.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be free?” Daeris would ask, her voice barely above a whisper as they lay on the grass, the stars twinkling overhead.

“Every day,” Aegon would reply, a mix of yearning and longing in his gaze. “But we are Targaryens; our duty binds us to this throne, whether we like it or not.”

Yet even within the constraints of their noble lineage, Daeris’s laughter brought him solace. She had a way of finding light in the darkest corners, a gift that made the burdens of their heritage seem lighter, if only for a moment.

As they grew older, the shadows of their mother, Queen Alicent, loomed larger. Alicent’s ambitions for Aegon consumed her, and she often reminded him of the expectations placed upon him. “You must think of the realm, Aegon. Your duty is to your family and your crown,” she would insist, her voice both commanding and fearful.

Aegon understood his mother’s perspective but felt increasingly suffocated by her constraints. The pressure to conform to the expectations of a future king often drove him to seek solace in Daeris. Late at night, when the palace was quiet and the stars filled the sky, he would find her in the gardens, lost in thought.

“Daeris,” he would call softly, and she would turn, a smile breaking across her face that melted away his worries. “What are you thinking about?”

“About the future,” she would reply, her eyes sparkling with ambition. “What if we could change things? What if we could create a kingdom where love and strength prevail?”

He would draw her close, holding her tightly. “With you by my side, I believe anything is possible.”

But as the years passed and the responsibilities of kingship loomed nearer, the weight of their love became an unbearable secret. Alicent grew increasingly suspicious of their bond, fearing the power it could wield. “You must keep your distance, Aegon,” she warned. “The world will not accept what you share. It is a dangerous path.”

Despite her fears, Aegon felt an undeniable pull toward Daeris. Their moments together became more precious, their stolen glances filled with unspoken words. He cherished their shared laughter, the way her presence lit up his darkest days.

On the eve of his coronation, Aegon wrestled with his conflicting emotions. The throne was finally within reach, but the thought of ruling without Daeris by his side felt like a betrayal of everything they had dreamed of together. As he sat in his chambers, staring at the Iron Throne, he knew he had to make a choice that would change everything.

The day of the coronation dawned bright, but a storm brewed within Aegon. As he stood before the gathered lords and ladies of the realm, he felt the weight of their gazes, the expectation of his mother looming behind him. Yet, when he looked for Daeris, he saw her standing resolute among the crowd, her eyes filled with encouragement and love.

“My lords and ladies,” he began, his voice steady, though his heart raced. “Today marks not only the beginning of my reign but a new chapter for House Targaryen. I will not be the king who bends to fear or tradition. I will forge my own path.”

Alicent stepped forward, alarm flashing in her eyes. “Aegon, think carefully!” she implored, but he pressed on, unwavering.

“I hereby declare that Daeris, my sister, shall be my second wife.” His voice rang through the hall, and gasps echoed around him. The nobles were stunned, the tension palpable.

“Aegon, this is unwise,” Daeris whispered as she stepped forward, concern etched on her face.

“No,” he replied, determination surging within him. “It is time to embrace what we are. Together, we can unify this realm, harnessing the power of our bond. We will not be mere pawns in our mother’s game.”

The court held its breath as Daeris’s eyes widened. “But the consequences could be dire,” she cautioned. “The realm will never accept us..”

“Let them try,” Aegon said fiercely. “What we have is stronger than their fears. They will see that our union brings strength, not division. We can challenge the old ways and redefine the future of our house.”

As the silence stretched, Aegon felt a shift in the air, a subtle acknowledgment of their bond, a spark of acceptance that might just ignite a new path. Daeris looked deeply into his eyes, her trust in him unwavering.

“If this is what you truly want, I will stand by you,” she said softly, her heart racing with both excitement and fear. “We will face the storm together.”

With that, Aegon felt a rush of hope. The court remained silent, but he sensed a change, a ripple of acknowledgment that perhaps they could carve out their own destiny.

In the days that followed, their lives became a whirlwind of preparation and scrutiny. Aegon found himself navigating the political landscape, facing the pushback of nobles who could not fathom their union. Yet with each challenge, Daeris was his anchor. They would steal moments together, laughter echoing through the quiet corners of the palace.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Aegon found Daeris in the gardens, the light casting a golden glow around her. “You’ve been my strength through all of this,” he said, approaching her. “I don’t know how I would have faced the court without you.”

She turned, her smile warm and inviting. “We’re in this together, Aegon. We always have been. Our bond is stronger than any title or crown.”

Their hands found each other, fingers intertwining as they stood beneath the stars. “Do you ever think about what we dreamed of as children?” Aegon asked, his voice low. “A world where love could conquer fear?”

Daeris nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “Every day. And now, it feels like we have the chance to make that dream a reality.”

As the days turned into weeks, Aegon and Daeris continued to face opposition, but they remained steadfast. They attended feasts and council meetings, presenting a united front to those who dared to challenge their bond. With every whispered threat and glimmer of disapproval, their love deepened, transforming into an unbreakable force.

One fateful evening, during a grand feast, an ambitious lord rose to speak against them. “This union is an abomination!” he declared, his voice dripping with disdain. “You will bring ruin to the realm!”

Aegon felt anger surge within him, but Daeris placed a calming hand on his arm. “Let me,” she whispered. He nodded, stepping back to allow her to speak.

Daeris stood tall, her voice steady and clear. “Our love does not weaken the realm; it strengthens it. Together, we embody the unity that this kingdom so desperately needs. We are Targaryens, and our bond is a testament to the strength of our house.”

Her words hung in the air, and Aegon watched as some nobles shifted uneasily, their expressions softening. They had seen the depth of her conviction, the way her spirit shone when she spoke of their shared vision.

“Aegon and I share more than blood,” Daeris continued, her eyes piercing through the tension in the hall. “We share a vision for a future where love and loyalty prevail. Together, we will build a realm that serves all, not just the privileged few.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in. Aegon felt a swell of pride for Daeris, knowing that her bravery was a reflection of their shared strength.

As the feast continued, whispers of approval began to ripple through the crowd. Aegon and Daeris exchanged a glance, the bond between them reaffirmed in that moment. They were not just siblings; they were partners in every sense, ready to face the challenges ahead.

In the weeks that followed, their relationship blossomed further. They spent evenings in the library, poring over ancient texts about their family history and the legacy they wished to create. Their discussions became fervent debates, laughter punctuating serious conversations as they envisioned a kingdom built on justice and love.

One night, as they studied a particularly ancient tome, Daeris leaned closer to Aegon, her hair brushing against his shoulder. “Do you ever feel like we’re meant to do this?” she asked softly, her breath warm against his skin. “To change the world?”

He turned to her, feeling the gravity of her words. “I do. With you, I feel like we can achieve anything. We are stronger together than apart.”

Daeris smiled, her expression radiant. “Then let’s not waste this chance. Let’s make the realm a better place, not just for us but for everyone.”

With each passing day, they plotted their reforms, improving the lives of the smallfolk, ensuring justice for the wronged, and uniting the divided houses of Westeros. Their shared ambition ignited a passion that made their bond deeper, a love that transcended mere sibling affection.

Yet, not all were supportive. As their popularity grew, so did the animosity from those who feared their union. A nobleman from a prominent house, feeling threatened by Aegon’s vision, began to rally dissenters, whispering poison into the ears of the court.

One evening, as Aegon and Daeris walked through the gardens, they overheard a group of nobles discussing their plans to undermine Aegon’s authority. Aegon’s jaw tightened, anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“We can’t let them get away with this,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “They’ll try to tear us apart.”

Daeris squeezed his hand, her gaze steady. “Then we must act swiftly. We can’t allow fear to dictate our future. We need to show them that our love is unshakeable.”

“Together,” he agreed, feeling the strength of her resolve fill him with determination.

Their strategy involved reaching out to the common folk, emphasizing that their union was a force for good. Aegon and Daeris began to hold public gatherings, inviting the smallfolk to speak and share their grievances. They listened intently, pledging to address their concerns and foster a more equitable kingdom.

One day, as they stood before a gathering crowd, Aegon spoke passionately about their vision. “We are Targaryens, but we are also your servants. We will fight for you, for your rights and your future. Our love will not just unite us; it will unite this kingdom.”

Daeris stepped forward, her voice clear and unwavering. “Together, we will build a realm where every voice is heard, where love is the guiding principle. We are here to serve, and we will not be afraid to challenge the status quo.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, their support invigorating. Aegon felt a surge of hope, knowing that with Daeris at his side, they could weather any storm. Their bond, once seen as a secret, now became a rallying cry for a new era.

But even as they garnered support, the forces against them grew more desperate. The nobleman, driven by his desire for power, orchestrated a scheme to undermine Aegon’s rule. He spread rumors of discontent and discord, painting Daeris as a puppet in Aegon’s grand plans.

One fateful night, as Aegon and Daeris were discussing their next steps in the library, the door burst open, and a group of nobles stormed in. “You have gone too far!” one of them shouted, eyes blazing with fury. “You threaten the very fabric of our realm!”

Aegon stepped protectively in front of Daeris, his heart racing. “You know nothing of our intentions. We are here to bring justice, not chaos.”

“Justice?” the nobleman scoffed. “You would tear apart the traditions that bind us together! Your love is an abomination that will ruin everything!”

Daeris stepped forward, her voice steady and resolute. “Our love is a strength, not a weakness. It represents hope for a future where fear no longer dictates our choices. We will not be silenced.”

Aegon’s heart swelled with pride as he watched her confront their enemies with such courage. “We will not cower before your threats,” he declared. “We will continue to fight for our vision, for our people, and for our love. And if we had to make the city burn of fire and blood with ours dragons then we will.. ”

The noblemen exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. The tension in the room was palpable, but Aegon and Daeris stood firm, their hands clasped together—a united front against the opposition.

Days turned into weeks as the political landscape continued to shift. Aegon and Daeris worked tirelessly to strengthen their alliances and garner support from the common folk. They held gatherings, inviting everyone to share their stories and concerns. The more they listened, the more their bond solidified, transforming into a shared mission.

One evening, as they sat together in the gardens, Aegon turned to Daeris, his expression contemplative. “Do you ever worry about the future? About what it might hold for us?”

Daeris looked up at the stars, her gaze thoughtful. “Of course. But I believe that as long as we have each other, we can face anything. Our love is our greatest weapon.”

He smiled, feeling the warmth of her words envelop him. “With you, I feel invincible. We can reshape this kingdom together.”

As they continued to face challenges, their relationship deepened. They became each other’s confidants, allies, and best friends, navigating the complexities of their roles while holding tight to the dreams they shared.

But their trials were far from over. The nobleman’s campaign to discredit them intensified, culminating in a grand council meeting where he sought to undermine Aegon’s rule publicly. “This union threatens the stability of our realm!” he exclaimed, his voice rising above the murmurs of the gathered nobles. “Aegon’s judgment is clouded by his infatuation with his sister!”

Aegon felt the room grow tense, but he stood tall, fueled by the strength of Daeris’s presence beside him. “My sister is not my weakness; she is my strength,” he countered, his voice unwavering. “Together, we will build a realm that serves all, not just the privileged few.”

Daeris stepped forward, her gaze fierce. “Our love does not diminish the Targaryen legacy; it enhances it. We are committed to serving this kingdom, to listening to the voices of the people, and to creating a future where all can thrive.”

The tension in the hall was palpable, but there were whispers of support among the gathered nobles. Aegon felt a surge of hope; perhaps they were beginning to see the truth of their union.

As the council meeting concluded, Aegon and Daeris emerged into the cool evening air, their hearts racing with adrenaline. “Do you think we reached them?” Aegon asked, his breath still heavy from the confrontation.

“I believe we planted a seed of doubt in their minds,” Daeris replied, her eyes bright with determination. “We must keep pushing forward. The more we show our commitment to the people, the harder it will be for them to oppose us.”

Over the following weeks, Aegon and Daeris’s efforts began to bear fruit. Their gatherings grew larger, and they garnered support from unexpected allies. The common folk began to rally behind their vision, inspired by the unity they represented.

One afternoon, as they stood in front of a cheering crowd, Aegon felt a wave of exhilaration. “This is just the beginning,” he announced, his voice ringing with conviction. “Together, we will create a kingdom where love conquers fear, where every voice matters, and where our bond will become a symbol of hope for all not just of war again Rhaenyra and her bastards..”

Daeris’s heart swelled with pride as she watched her brother inspire the masses. They were not just siblings; they were champions of a new era.

But as their popularity grew, so did the desperation of their enemies. The nobleman who had opposed them continued to plot against them, seeking to exploit any weakness in their armor. He spread lies and rumors, attempting to turn the tide of public opinion against them.

One evening, Aegon and Daeris returned to the palace after a successful gathering. They were met by a somber Alicent, who had been visibly distressed.

“Aegon, there are rumors spreading like wildfire,” she warned, her voice shaky. “They claim that your union with Daeris is a danger to the realm. The council is divided, and they’re calling for a vote to question your legitimacy as king.”

Aegon felt a surge of panic. “What do we do? We can’t allow this to escalate.”

Daeris stepped forward, her eyes steady. “We confront them. We need to show them that our love is not a weakness; it is our greatest strength. We will not be cowed by their fears.”

In the following days, they prepared for a crucial council meeting. Aegon and Daeris crafted a passionate speech together, drawing from their shared vision for the kingdom. As they rehearsed, Aegon felt a sense of unity enveloping them.

On the day of the meeting, the tension in the council chamber was palpable. Lords and ladies filled the seats, their faces a mix of curiosity and disdain. Aegon and Daeris stood together at the front, their hands clasped firmly.

“My lords and ladies,” Aegon began, his voice steady despite the weight of scrutiny. “Today, we stand united, not just as brother and sister, but as partners dedicated to the future of this kingdom. Our bond is a symbol of strength, not weakness.”

Daeris stepped forward, her eyes fierce and unwavering. “We will not allow fear to dictate our choices. Our love represents hope, a chance for this kingdom to thrive. Together, we can create a realm where every voice is heard and respected.”

As they spoke, Aegon could feel the energy in the room shift. Some nobles shifted uncomfortably, while others nodded in agreement. Aegon and Daeris’s passion was infectious, and he could see that their message was resonating.

But then, the nobleman who had opposed them rose, his voice cutting through the air. “This union is unnatural! It undermines the very foundation of our realm!”

Aegon felt anger rise within him, but Daeris squeezed his hand, grounding him. “We are not asking for your acceptance; we are demanding your respect,” she declared. “Love knows no boundaries, and our bond will only strengthen the Targaryen legacy.”

The room fell silent, and for a moment, Aegon felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps they could win this battle together.

After what felt like an eternity, the council voted. Aegon and Daeris stood side by side, hands intertwined, as the results were announced. A narrow majority supported them, and a wave of relief washed over Aegon.

As the meeting adjourned, Daeris turned to him, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “We did it! Together.”

Aegon pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the weight of their struggles lift momentarily. “This is just the beginning. We will continue to fight for our vision, for our people.”

In the following weeks, they faced renewed challenges, but their bond only grew stronger. Aegon and Daeris worked tirelessly, implementing reforms and listening to the concerns of the people. They became a force for change, their love inspiring hope throughout the realm.

Yet, even as they forged ahead, the specter of opposition loomed large. The nobleman, humiliated by their victory, grew increasingly desperate. He began to plot a more dangerous scheme, one that would put everything Aegon and Daeris had built at risk.

One fateful night, as Aegon and Daeris prepared to retire, a loud crash echoed through the halls. Aegon instinctively moved to protect Daeris, his heart racing. “Stay behind me,” he instructed, his voice firm.

As they stepped into the hallway, they were met by a group of armed men, their faces obscured by masks. The nobleman’s voice echoed through the shadows. “You’ve gone too far, Targaryens! It’s time to end this madness!”

Aegon’s heart raced as he drew Daeris close, their bond providing strength in the face of danger. “You will not harm us!” he shouted, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him.

“Your reign ends tonight!” the nobleman hissed, his eyes filled with rage.

Daeris stepped forward, her expression fierce. “You underestimate us. Our love is a force that cannot be extinguished. We will fight for our future, no matter the cost.”

In that moment, Aegon felt the fire of determination ignite within him. They were more than siblings; they were warriors, united against the darkness threatening to tear them apart.

With a surge of adrenaline, Aegon charged forward, leading Daeris into the fray. Together, they fought back against their attackers, a whirlwind of strength and determination. They were not alone; the guards had been alerted, and soon the hall was filled with the sounds of clashing steel and cries of defiance.

As the battle raged, Aegon caught a glimpse of Daeris, her fierce spirit shining through as she defended herself with unwavering resolve. They moved in sync, each protecting the other, their bond forged in fire.

Finally, as the dust settled, the last of the attackers were subdued. Aegon turned to Daeris, breathless and exhilarated. “We did it!”

She nodded, her eyes bright with fierce determination. “We are stronger than they realize. Together, we can face anything.”

With their enemies vanquished, Aegon and Daeris emerged from the shadows, their love unbreakable, their resolve fortified. They would not allow anyone to tear them apart. They would forge ahead, side by side, as champions of a new era—a reign built on love, strength, and unwavering commitment to their people.

As they stood together, the weight of their shared struggles felt lighter. The future was uncertain, but Aegon knew that as long as they faced it together, there was nothing they could not overcome.

Their love had become a force of its own, inspiring hope across the realm and solidifying their place in history as not just a king and queen, but as beacons of change for all of Westeros.

[aemondsdoll]

forget honour | aemond and aegon

masterlist

Summary: The two silver haired princes claim you, from the moment they saw you.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, making out, drunk, no PIV but it’s implied. throuple vibes. no y/n used, we ain’t do this here

Pairings: Aegon x f!reader, Aemond x f!teader

You don’t know how you got here, with these boys.

One night, you were helping Aegon return to his room after he had stumbled into the courtyards late at night, drunken and ill.

And one day, you had stumbled into Aemond yourself while trying to use a sword all too heavy, and he had helped you find one more suited to your tastes.

Now, you were seeing both of them everywhere.

Aemond routinely accompanied you in the library whenever you went, would train you while getting a little too close and walking you through the gardens.

Aegon, he didn’t find excuses for his attachment. Simply barging into your chambers at an unbecoming time of night, taking his place near your side. He would often dismiss your handmaidens in the mornings, insisting he help dress you instead.

You did not mind the attention one bit. And eventually, it got more heated. You remember it well.

Sitting in the library, Aemond was by your side. He held a book in his hand, but he much preferred to read you, your body language, your words. He didn’t bother to hide it, his hand landed on your thigh.

The two of you had the library to yourselves at such a time at night. Asides from the guards at the door, who dare not interrupt the one eyed prince. His thumb stroked the fabric of your dress, applying the perfect amount of pressure to send teasing strikes of euphoria through your veins.

Aemond enjoyed the look you spared him from the very side of your eye. Though this was not enough for him to falter. He moved his hand to your knee, where he clutches the fabric of your dress, looking into your eyes with his one, asking for approval.

Your mind screams ‘No.’ but your body takes the lead, and you nod. His hand quickly disappeared under your skirt, pushing your small clothes out of the way just a little bit. You gasp, muffling it with your hand. He parts your moist folds, feeling around for the little bud. Every movement of his agile finger makes you squirm, swearing under your breath.

Your hands holding your book quiver, and you struggle to hold it, even with both hands. His thumb moves to circle your clitoris with just the perfect amount of force, meanwhile his index parts your folds once more. You sharply intake your breath as it pushes into your hole.

You almost cry out as he finds the rough patch within your walls, you buck against his finger, and he learns you like it when he makes a come hither motion. He’s learning you, and it might just be his favourite thing ever.

It’s not long before your orgasm builds up, and Aemond can feel it. His thumb using your juices to smoothen his attack on your clit, while his index still worked expertly inside you. Letting out smaller little whimpers, whispering for him to never stop as if he is all of the gods at once.

You come undone with a crash, gripping your book to the point where it’s indented into your palms, and knuckles have paled. Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

Just the memory leaves you reeling, breath picking up. And then there’s Aegon, who had surprisingly enough made little to no attempt at laying with you, though close enough.

Aegon’s tongue tastes of wine as it mixes with yours. The two of you had indulged while in the gardens, leaving both sides feeling risky as Aegon had you cornered against the wall of a secluded seating area deep within the gardens.

Your hand knots in his hair, tugging, with each tug a delicious whimper escapes from those swollen lips of his. His hands ferociously grope at your bodice, cupping your ass, running up your sides to rub at your modestly covered tits. Though you attempted to keep yourself ladylike, your chest pressed against the fabric of your dress, leaving you assets well on display, even when covered.

Aegon loved it, hands going back down at yiur ass to which he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his hips. His hardening cock eagerly pressing against you.

Though the moment was far from long lived as a guards armour alerts you both to a new presence, and you pull away.

It was beautiful, how both the princes had taken such a liking to you. You had no doubt in your bones that they wanted you just as harshly as you wanted- no- needed them.

They both had made you feel things, and those things would never be forgotten. And that was certain as you looked to your side, the comforts of your furs paling in comparison to the two bare men before you, who had just fucked you raw, their silver hairs splaying out behind them, Aemond still managed to look elegant, so beautiful. Aegon, was adorable.

You were going to keep these boys, and they were going to keep you. You are theirs and they are yours.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Like A True Flower (Aemond x Reader)

So this was a bit hard to write but I hope you guys like it. There’s a slight mention of Aegon but I think I’ll need to write a part two to get into it cause there was just too many things to write. Let me know if you will be interested in that

As the years passed and the Targaryen name went from a burning dragon fire to merely a small candle that was handed to Daenerys Targaryen, the whispers of the bastard curse never went silent.

“If my children do not sit on the throne then none of our lines shall prosper”

(Y/n) Targaryens legacy lived on from people tarnishing her, blaming her and others who admired her wits and hunger for recognition. The bastard of Daemon Targaryen that was dropped off in Kings Landing, at the time Daemon had begged his brother King Viserys to legitimize her, raise her as their own, only the Seven could have known that (y/n) would turn out to be the one to put the sword on Aemonds hand and send him off to battle that got them both killed.

(Y/n) was the lady wife of Aemond per Queen Alicents request? At first, Alicent scoffed at the babe who seemed to sense the hatred that grew around her crib, a bastard amongst royalty, it was such a scandal at the time that Viserys had even considered giving her away. The babe growing tireless and her lungs as strong as steel made her discomfort evident to everyone with well working set of ears.

“Your grace”

“Have you fed her?”

“Fed her changed her, bathe her, nothing seems to work”

Alicent had walked into her nursery for the first time since she arrived, something in her compelled her to come to the child’s aid, listening to her wailing took her back to the first year of Aegons life.

“Give her to me”

The wet nurse hesitated only for a split second before she complied with the queen's orders, gently passing that young babe to Alicent who cooed at the poor thing, she had almost turned purple from crying, “she misses her mother” Alicent considered silently, slowly she started rocking her whilst she walked towards the window, she was pregnant with her third child at the time, her belly growing big and someone’s else daughter in her arms.

“She looks beautiful I’ll give you that much little girl”

She joked to the babe as the light of the sun graced her cheeks, it always seemed to work for Aegon and as the seconds passed (y/n) 's cries lessened, and a satisfied smile grew on Alicent lips as the little lady finally found peace in her arms, slowly turning her frown to one of the most adorable yawns that tugged at Alicante heartstrings.

“All you wanted was some sunlight, like a true flower”

Alicent was in awe of the child ever since, such a true beauty, and as she grew her delightful personality took everyone by storm, to be around her was to fall for her, even as just a child little boys would bring her flowers that they plucked from some unfortunate garden, including Aegon and later Aemond.

The two brothers were close to the princess, they would compete for her attention any way they could, of course, Aegon had the advantage of having a dragon and Aemond had to stay on the ground as he watched them circle one another, he would gawk at them with envy, praying that one day Aegon will have to watch him ride his very own dragon with (y/n).

Aegon on the other side would despise (y/n) and Aemonds reading time, the young girl was gifted at the literate arts, it was almost like she would swallow any book and recite on the spot anything that she was asked about any book she had gotten her hands on, Aemond was not as intellect yet he caught fast than Aegon and was more inclined to ask intriguing questions.

You can imagine his outburst of rage when the queen announced that she was to marry his youngest brother.

“She had inherited the lustful urges of her ferocious father, at the very least we must say she was much more discreet about it”

The historians would report back when asked about it, Aegon had the lust and fire of the dragon, while Aemond was sweet, attentive to her needs and his touch was oh so soft. Besides the fact that (y/n) wanted to have a bite of sweet and spicy, she also relished the jealousy between them, fighting for a spot in her bed every night was an aphrodisiac like no other.

Even though she was married under the seven to Aemond, she would often sneak from her chambers at the hour of the wolf and warm Aegon bed or other times when the chambermaids would scurry away after listening to the loud moans of (y/n) and Aemond in any type of room that the castle had to offer.

“A little after the war of dragons began her lady in waiting- Chiara Baratheon- had reported seeing the princess sitting on the iron throne while Aegon pleased her”

Mushroom would add briefly and with a hint of disapproval. No matter what she had the blind trust of the king and the prince and the undeniable love of Queen Alicent, the gods seemed to be in her favor whilst everyone wondered how.

(Y/n) was blessed by the dark world that her entire bloodline owed everything, at nightfall when the castle grew tired (y/n) would burn her candles and open her book, coming in contact with her ancestors as she sacrificed animals or even offered her own drops of blood and whenever she could she would spill Aemonds or Aegons, if you asked her she would say that she did it out of love, to keep them safe and in power, if they climbed the throne it was only natural that she would follow.

-

“Are you sure about your choice in your gown?”

“Never been more certain of something in my life, don’t you find it flattering?”

“You would be the most comely lady in all of Westeros even with a sack”

“Then it is settled, I am sure Mother will love it as well”

(Y/n) responded light-heartedly as she snaked her arm around Aemonds, she smiled brightly up at him like she always did making his stomach turn in backflips….like she always did.

Admins was taken by his lady wife, he was forever a slave to her and he was the one who had thrown away the key of his cell, his eye would sparkle with admiration any time he would simply gaze at her, her touch brought him goosebumps and her love, oh her love, like a fire that slowly burned him from the inside, a sweet death that was worth a thousand cuts.

“Our deepest apologies, I lost track of time worrying about my bloody hair”

(Y/n) could not afford to seem raddled or scared in front of her father's hawk eye, she paraded in with Aemond linked on her arm and a bright smile of a carefree attitude.

“Mother”

She acknowledged Alicent as her mother years before she was wed to Aemond, bending down to give a kiss on the cheek to the queen that made Alicent smile brightly and turn slightly towards her.

“How are you my flower?”

“Better, the morning sickness seems to be wearing off”

“Morning sickness? Is the princess with child?”

“Indeed… forgive me you haven’t been at court for so long, should I address you as princess, sister, or good mother?”

“Princess will do”

Rhaenyra confirmed through her teeth as her hand went over Daemon which had turned into a fist. Rhaenyra was no fool yet she somewhat understood the reasoning behind the young girl’s actions, left behind and forgotten by her father, motherless by death and fatherless by choice, she had begged Daemon to demand to take her with them but Daemon felt that the bond was unable to be fixed in any way.

(Y/n) only nodded and Aemond pulled out the chair next to Queen Alicent as she always wished to sit right next to her, even Otto had learned not to question it, as the dinner went on and the exhausting speech of King Viserys who just so happened to remember that he has a family that has steadfastly trickled into the chaos that he never even attempted to fix (y/n) also had to endure the forcefully emotional toast of Rhaenyra, still the shock that came from Alicent calling her “a fine queen” was the part that compelled her to rise and take her goblet.

“I would also like to raise a toast to our king who was kind enough to take me in when I had no one and merely but a babe I will always be grateful for that and to my mother, Queen Alicent, who came to my aid and offered me the love and the kind touch of a parent that I was denied by destiny, my love and devotion for her goes beyond words, may they live on and be able to see the fruits of my marriage.”

Daemon was ready to combust from anger. “How fucking dare she?” He thought “I took her from the arms of her dead mother, I begged Viserys to give her a home and now this is how she chooses to repay me?”

As the music played and the wine flowed everyone’s shoulders seemed to relax and laughter would intertwine with the mixture of talks amongst the people that dined.

“Would you do me the honor?”

(Y/n) heard from the back of her, turning only to be met with Prince Jacaerys who was sticking his arm out of her, there was a time when (y/n) and Jacaerys had some type of connection, Jacaerys was kind to her and had even offered to teach her the art of the sword, (y/n) puffed out a breath after she took his hand, no matter how she felt about it she was aware that Alicent wanted this to pass as swiftly as possible with no type of conflict.

“You look breathtaking if that isn’t obvious”

“That is very kind of you to say, my prince”

“I remember there was a time when we did not use such formalities”

“That was a time when my intended had both eyes”

she threw back with a smile still on her lips, as they dance (y/n) might have appeared to be happy although it could not be further from the truth, as they danced around together with a turn that Jacaerys had guided she was able to see both Aegon and Aemond waiting for their moment to attack Jacaerys, the prince was too carefree as he walked in the edge of their swords and it came the time that (y/n) dipped with his one arm around her waist and his free one went up to caress her locks, that was when a sudden booming sound of Aemonds fist on the table was heard, (y/n) immediately stood up and watched Aemond raise his goblet.

“To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey each of them handsome, wise… strong”

“Aemond”

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again”

“Why? T’was only a compliment, do you not think yourself strong boy?”

Jacaerys was once again the one to bring violence into the matter, what seemed to be not taken into consideration was that Aemond was now a man-grown, and quite easily with one hand, he pushed Jacaerys onto the floor. (Y/n) walked to Aemond and stood between them, her hands finding his forearms, before she could phrase anything the queen had also walked up to the prince of chaos.

“Why would you say such a thing in front of all these people?”

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

That was enough to send Jacaerys off again and try to free himself from the guards. The prince only got to make a few steps before Daemon stood between, it seemed like Jacaerys respected the rogue prince which left (y/n) dumbfounded, “who could respect such a buffoon?” She questioned in her mind

As Daemon turned to look at Aemond (y/n) took it upon herself and stood in front of her husband, the same smirk that Daemon had was the one that (y/n) was presented as well, her mismatched eyes reminded him so much of his mothers, “it was a shame that they had to be wasted on her” he thought.

At least he had to appreciate her ever-growing courage, though he didn’t know if he had to congratulate her or fear her, the girl put herself ahead of the man that she was wed just to prove she was just as courageous as the man she grew to hate.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Rhaenyra commanded but it appeared that (y/n) and Daemon had gone on a standoff, eyeballing one another like animals waiting for a slight move so the other could attack, both of them spewed fire from the eyes.

Aemond admired her, he would not dare to touch her and quite frankly he did not want to, he thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his love standing her ground against such a vile man.

“Little flower, please”

Alicent pleaded as her shaky hands found (y/n) 's upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze, (y/n) inhaled sharply although she only took a step back when Daemon diverted his focus to his lady wife, (y/n) offered a smirk to Alicent and after she gave a kiss on her cheek to calm her down, she knew that Alicent was never fond of such tension.

“Get some rest Mother, a long morrow awaits us”

The only way towards their chambers was to pass by Daemon, so step by step (y/n) and Aemond stood by his side, (y/n) halted and faced Daemon right in the eye.

“Let us solve this another day, Father”

It would have been better if she had called him the vilest of names, that name was enough for Daemon to reach for his sword and Rhaenyra to beg him to stop by pushing him back.

(Y/n)s laughter was heard as she walked away with her husband following close, the second the doors of the dining hall closed Aemond had snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her for a deep kiss to which (y/n) responded with the same passion.

“I did not know such things excited you, my love”

“How could it not? Any man would implore for an ounce of your attention after such performance”

“You always demand my attention Aemond”

“Can you blame me?”

He cheekily responded. (Y/n) only smiled and kissed him again pulling him in, she did not have much time, though a small stop to collect her prize of a very excited husband would not hurt.

“Tonight I need you in my chamber”

“Where will you do it tonight my love?”

“The simplest of cuts… right here”

She said as she let her index finger grace over the middle of his chest, she had to offer something right before the king died to make sure the will stayed spinning towards her.

“Whatever you want, my love, as long as I get my treat after”

“I could never deny myself the pleasure of you”

“Let us go before Aegon catches up to us and steals you away from me

Requests are open!

[chloe-skywalker]

Marriage - Aegon II Targaryen

Aegon x twin sister Fem!Reader

Warnings: normal G.O.T

Word count: 966

Summary: If Aegon has to marry a sister he wants it to be his twin. He wants it to be his twin anyways. The only person who loves him in his life.

Masterlist

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“You need to marry. You are of age and need to secure yourself.” Alicent tell’s her oldest son for  what felt like the hundredth time. She wondered if he’d ever get the urgency of this topic.

“I don’t see why it’s so urgent.” Aegon spoke up for the first time since having entered his father’s chambers to discuss an ‘issue’ with his father and mother.

“I agree with the boy. It’s not like he has to get married before the next moon.” Viserys raised a hand gesturing towards Aegon. It’s not like he would be taking the Iron Throne, he didn’t need to rush marriage.

“He needs-”

“Do you have anyone in mind, Aegon? I would prefer to keep our blood pure Targaryen.” Visery asked his son, completely ignoring and cutting Alicent off.

“You have to be joking?!” Alicent exclaimed with wide eyes filled with horror and disgust at the thought of her children being married to each other.

Sure she knew it was the Targaryen way that they married their own blood more often than not. It didn’t mean she supported it or liked it.

“Since Rhaenyre hasn’t had any girls, do you happen to like either of your sisters?” Viserys continued to not pay Alicent any mind as it was not her say that would be finale. Nor was she truly a Targaryen.

Alicent couldn’t believe that she wasn’t going to have a say in this. Or that Viserys would let Aegon have a choice. “By the gods-”

“Y/n. Y/n or no one. That’s my decision on marriage.” Aegon stated with a surprisingly strong tone of voice. If he was going to be allowed to choose he wanted it to be Y/n. His twin sister. The one he loves and who loves him.

“Its settled then. I think it’s a fitting match that will work out perfectly. Good choice.” Viserys smiled and clapped his hands together.

“You can not be serious?!” Alicdnt looked on in shock. That did not go as she had planned.

“I am and it is finale. No one will change my decision, or Aegons or I’m sure Y/n’s. Not even you.” Viserys looked to Alicent with a look that told her to step down.

Viserys had noticed over the years how close Y/n and Aegon were and he also knew how bad of a father he’d been to them. If letting them marry each other was what would make them happy it’s the least he could do for them.

“I’ll go tell Y/n the good news.” Aegon gave a nod with a smile before he left to go find his sister and share the news of their engagement.

It took him a while searching a couple of her favorite places. But he finally found her at the dragon pits.

“Y/n.” Aegon called out.

“Over here.” She called out and Aegon followed the second of her voice. “How was your meeting?”

“Dreadful. But it ended well.” Aegon told her as he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her torso.

“Oh really? What was it about?” Y/n raised a brow curious to know about it.

“Mother wants me to marry.” He told her with a groan.

“To secure your place.” Y/n mimicked their mothers words with a roll of her eyes.

“Exactly.” Aegon scoffed but was amused by her imitation of their mothers nagging.

“And the king? Our father. What’d he say?” Y/n asked wondering if he had said anything to either support or put down their mothers ridiculous plans.

“Asked if I had anyone in mind. Said he’d prefer our blood to stay pure.” Aegon was giddy to tell her the news for them but he also wanted to see her reaction.

“Did you?” Y/n was nervous about asking the question. Sure they say they love each other and wish they could marry the other, but given the chance to choose anyone would he still choose her?

“Yeah. And he said yes. He approved of us. He approved of us getting married.” Aegon couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He was overjoyed that they were going to be married. It was always a hope but with their mother and grand sire always scheming behind people's backs there was always an air of uncertainty.

Y/n spun around looking her twin in the eyes. Her own wide with shock and hope. “He did?”

Aegon nodded, tightening his hold on her waist. “Yes, he did.”

“Oh Aegon.” Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could. Aegon lifted her up and spun her in his joy, happy she shared in it.

“We can finally be together.” Aegon mumbled into her neck.

“We can.” She let out a happy sigh. At least they would get to have each other in this cruel world.

“Mothers furious.” He laughed, setting her back on the ground as they pulled back to look at eachother.

“Let her be. Not like she really cares about us.” Y/n reached up to cup his cheek’s in the palm of her hands. Smiling at him as if he was the only person in all the realms. “Aegon, I won't turn against our sister. Against Rhaenyra.”

Y/n knew it was probably bad timing. But he had to know before they got married her decision and where she stood if their mother and grand sire got their way.

“I don’t want to be king. Whatever you want to do, I’ll follow you.” Aegon didn’t care to ever be on the Iron Throne, but he did care about Y/n. He’d go wherever she wanted to go. All they ever had growing up was each other and that's how it’ll always be.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

[spider-stark]

SPARRING PARTNER

Aegon II Targaryen x Cousin!Reader

Summary - You and Aegon have hardly spoken since sharing a particularly sensual moment a month ago. Now he thinks he stands a chance at beating you in a sparring match.

Warnings - targcest (lightly implied that reader is Daemon's daughter), vague hints regarding smut, blood, horny/stupid aegon & reader, ! MINORS DNI !

Word Count - 2.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

“Care for a partner?” 

Aegon’s gruff voice had come as a surprise, knocking you from a state of concentration as you swung for one of the training dummies.

Your body jolts. You fumble, then miss your mark by a fraction of an inch. The tip of your blade grazes against the dummies wooden neck, rather than slicing its head clean off. 

Gritting your teeth, blood thrums in your ears as you whirl around to face your cousin. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s dangerous to sneak up on an armed woman?” 

He’s standing within an arm’s length of you—much too close, considering you had been swinging a sword around. One wrong move, and it could’ve been his head that you had taken off. 

In spite of this, Aegon appears utterly at ease. Standing with his hands stuffed in his pockets, he shrugs at you, a lopsided smirk pulling at his lips. “I prefer for my women to be dangerous.” 

“I’m the furthest thing from one of your women.” 

“Really?” He cocks a brow, that stupid smirk growing wider. “Must I jog your memory, then? Remind you of Aemond’s name-day celebrations when-” 

You cut him off with a narrow-eyed glare, raising your blade in a feigned-threat. The tip is poised at his navel when you hiss, “Enough.” 

Obedient as always, Aegon’s mouth snaps shut at your command. His mouth remains curved, though, silently taunting you. Memories from last month flash through your mind—the two of you, drunk and stumbling away from the Banquet Hall, hands roaming freely along each other's bodies. 

A mistake. 

That’s all it was: an ignorant, drunken, mistake. 

Still, you feel your cheeks heating at the thought of that night. You huff, sliding your sword back into the leather-sheath strapped around your hips. “I’m not one of your women,” you huff, though you’re not so sure the reminder is meant for him. “You have a type, Aegon—and that type consists wholly of whores.” 

You had nothing against the whores, of course. Many of the ladies working on the Street of Silk were fine women—if anything, you felt bad that they had to deal with him. 

At least they get paid for it, though. You deal with his flirtations free of charge. 

“Well,” Aegon drones, his lilac eyes dipping further south. Sweat soaks through your tunic, making it cling to your skin in a way that accentuates the curve of your waist. “Not wholly of whores.” 

Your expression falls flat. “How flattering.” 

With that, you spin on your heel, fully intending on continuing your training on the other side of the yard. You make it less than a full step before his fingers snag on your wrist, whirling you back around. 

Your free hand finds the hilt of your sword, a warning flashing in your eyes. Worry flashes across his face, though it’s mostly shrouded by arrogance. 

“You never answered my question,” his voice carries a subtle wobble, hardly noticeable. You catch it, though, unable to suppress a self-satisfied grin. “Would you like a partner?” 

“A sparring partner?” 

The question is phrased like an insult—and, maybe, you had meant it that way. Your focus hones in on the hand still wrapped around your wrist. His smooth, uncalloused, princelike hands. When was the last time he had even held a sword? 

A puzzled frown accentuates the pout of his bottom lip. When he speaks, his voice is so unusually tentative that his response sounds more like a question than an answer. “Yes?” 

You try holding in a laugh—and fail miserably. Aegon’s confusion gives way to annoyance, embarrassment tinging his pale cheeks red. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Several biting remarks instantly come to mind, each a bit more insulting than the last. You hold your tongue. Surely he doesn’t actually believe himself capable of sparring with you, right? When it comes to swordfighting, you’re leagues above him. It wouldn’t even be close to a fair match. 

“Nothing,” you respond quickly, tight-lipped as you hold back another laugh. “But you know what? Sure—I could use some decent competition.” 

Aegon’s chest puffs slightly, confidence soaring. 

You nip that in the bud, “Mind fetching your brother for me?” 

He deflates at the mention of his brother, shoulders slumping forward as he scoffs. “You truly believe Aemond to be better than me?” 

“Without question.” 

Aemond was a bit of a twat—but he was undeniably skilled at swordplay. 

“Do you forget that Aemond and I were trained by the same knight?” Aegon asks, brows raised. “I’m just as skilled with a blade as my brother. If not more.” 

Another laughable statement that has you biting your cheek, trying not to insult him any more than you already had. 

It was true that, same as Aemond, Aegon had been trained by Ser Criston, a knight of the Kingsguard, when he was a boy. But if the softness of his palms was any indicator, then he hadn’t done a good job at keeping up with that training. 

“Doubtful.” Sighing, you then gesture to his clothes, “Besides, you’re not even dressed for a fight, Aegon. You can’t move in that!” 

Glancing down at himself, he observes his tight-fitted emerald tunic, slim trousers, and shiny black boots. Fashionable—but terrible for a fight. 

“I assure you that I can move just fine,” he huffs, weakly defending himself. Bringing a hand to his hip, he slides a dagger from a small black sheath. “I’ll prove it!” 

You stare at the weapon, unblinking. Incredulity lines each syllable as you ask, “You plan to fight me with that?” 

It was, admittedly, a very pretty dagger. 

No expense had been spared in its creation. The pommel was forged of shimmering gold, rounded and delicately crafted to emulate the appearance of glistening dragon scales. Dark shagreen wrapped the hilt, and the blade itself was made of steel so dark it appeared onyx, its tip curved ever-so-slightly, making it ideal for carving through flesh. 

Pretty, but still just a dagger. A weapon designed for close-range attacks would do him little good against a sword. 

“It’s a weapon, is it not?” If Aegon’s at all embarrassed by your teasing, he doesn’t show it. His jaw flexes, lilac eyes boring into you. “Fight me.” 

“This is foolish-” you start. 

“Fight me,” Aegon growls, cutting you off. He takes a step closer. Your spine turns to a steel rod, chin held high as his stare narrows on you. “Unless you’re too afraid to lose,” he purrs. 

Your blood simmers. 

He’s goading you. You know that—and take the bait anyway. 

“Fine,” you answer bluntly. 

Rolling your shoulders, you take your stance a few paces back from him. Feet apart and hands raised defensively, you don’t even bother with drawing your weapon—making his brow raise. 

“What about your sword?” He asks, eyeing the sheath at your waist. 

“Don’t need it.” 

Cocky—but true, nonetheless. If you were to spar with a weapon, then you would probably have him disarmed in seconds. Doing it this way, unarmed, you at least stand a chance of getting a good workout before your inevitable victory. 

“Let’s go.” Curling your fingers, you beckon him closer, a taunt in your voice, “Give it your best shot, Aeg.” 

A shiver crawls up his spine, thinking back to Aemond’s name-day, the last time you had called him that. The two of you had been so impatient that you hadn’t made it further than an empty broom closet; his teeth grazing against your neck, and his name oozing from your tongue like honey. 

His hand tightens around the hilt, remembering how it felt to be gripping your bare waist, instead. Remembering, too, how it felt as his touch drifted lower and lower, his fingers hooking along the waistband of your smallclothes just as a maid pushed the door open and started screaming. 

You hadn’t called him Aeg since that night—since you rushed to fix your gown and darted out the door, leaving him to deal with the maid. To hear it again now—after a month of dreaming of it—was pure bliss, as well as a confirmation that, perhaps, you don’t regret that night as much as you wish you did. 

Voice low, he asks, “Ready?” 

You almost smile. Aegon had been trained by the Kingsguard, taught to spar with honor, to wait until your opponent was ready to strike. 

But you were trained by the Rogue Prince. Taught to say fuck honor—strike first, ask questions never. 

A split second and you’re lunging forwards, making a move for his dominant side. 

Aegon’s eyes go wide—then his guard snaps up, forcing him to focus. 

Caught off guard, his movements are desperate and sloppy as he stumbles backwards, evading your strike. 

Your fingertips brush the sleeve of his tunic. If he’d moved a second later, you would have caught him by the wrist. A second later, and you would have already won. 

“Sneaky,” he chastises. 

You open your mouth to respond, only for the words to be cut off by a yelp. He takes you by surprise, barreling straight for you. Steel glimmers as the onyx blade sweeps towards you, slicing through the air much faster than you would’ve thought. 

There’s no time to dodge the strike—not without the risk of tripping over your own feet. You lift your forearm, aiming to block rather than dodge. Aegon notices this—a heartbeat too late—and purposefully slows his own blow. 

You hiss as cold steel grazes against your skin. Crimson trickles towards your elbow, minuscule compared to what it could have been. If Aegon hadn’t hindered his own strike, the blade could have very well cut-through to pure-ivory bone. 

Anger sparks in his eyes. “You could’ve dodged that,” he pants. 

Taking several small steps backwards, you grin at him through gritted teeth. “And you could’ve struck harder.” 

Aegon’s stare narrows and, instantly, that spark flares to an all-consuming wildfire. Lilac flames lick at his irises, the heat of them nipping at your skin, sweat beading along your brow. 

He moves first. 

Slicing from the left, you duck to the right. His counter is swift, aiming for your bicep. But he’s too hesitant—giving you just enough time to twist your body out of the way. 

His movements are as fast and relentless as they are unsustainable. Aegon’s chest heaves, evidence of his fraying endurance. You bide your time, weaving and dodging his blade's curved tip. Letting him push you back and back and back, focusing on evading rather than striking. 

Swinging low, his blade cuts through the front of your tunic, hardly a fucking centimeter from tearing into your sternum. A bit panicked, you snap your arm up. It rams into the side of his dominant wrist, striking a particularly sensitive nerve. 

He hisses. Takes a step back to regroup. 

Never loses his grip, though, knuckles turning white around the hilt. 

“Impressive,” you bite out, feeling your own temper flare. 

Taking advantage of the small window, you move towards him. Swept towards his ankle with your leg, hoping to knock him off balance but— 

—He predicts your movement, jumping back only to immediately press forward again. Every movement is aggressive; not calculated or precise, but still swift and near inescapable. 

You block and block, stumbling back and back. Your footwork turns sloppy, your focus hazy. Then, suddenly, your back is slamming into rough stone. Blade poised at your chest, Aegon grins even as he fights to catch his breath. 

You curse at yourself, realization settling into your bones. 

You counted on him being a poor swordsman—on being out of practice and out of shape. Waiting for his stamina to deplete, knowing that when it did, you could easily overpower him. 

You hadn’t considered that maybe he’d had a strategy of his own, though. 

Aegon had tricked you. Overexerted himself on purpose. Moved faster and faster, ensuring that you were focusing on him and not your surroundings, allowing him to back you into a godsdamned corner. 

Your temper flares. Instincts kick in. 

Your hand thrusts upwards, aiming for the chain dangling around his neck. His freehand shoots up at the same time, catching your fingers just as they wrap around the thick metal. He doesn’t move your hand away, letting the warmth of your touch linger against the column of his throat. 

You had planned to choke him, and Aegon knows this. And yet neither fear nor worry clouds his gaze. His lilac eyes remain bright, glittering with intrigue, of all things. 

A low chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, which is only mere inches from your own. “If you were this desperate to touch me,” Aegon purrs, the sweetness of arbor red permeating your senses as his breath fans across your cheek, “then you should’ve just asked.” 

“You’re insufferable,” you grind out. 

Aegon leans closer, the tip of his nose bumping against yours as your foreheads touch. Your heartbeat stutters, then quickens. He loosens his grip on your fingers, not caring that you could easily attack him again. As he brushes a strand of sweat-soaked hair behind your ear, you’re fairly certain that, at this moment, Aegon has no cares at all. 

“You were wrong,” he whispers. 

The world around you begins to fade, your vision hollowing until all that remains is him. You just stare at him—wide-eyed and confused, utterly ensnared. 

“Earlier,” Aegon continues. “You said that you were the furthest thing from my type of woman. But you were wrong–” his touch drifts from your hairline, traveling along your jaw in a soft caress, “–you’re the only type of woman that I want.” 

A serrated breath escape escapes you as Aegon pushes himself against you, further caging you against the stone. Close enough that, with each breath, his plush lips brush against yours. Close enough that you can feel his hardening length buried against your thigh. 

“Every night,” his voice drops to a whimper now. “I’ve thought of you every night since then. Dreamed of you, even.” 

You bite your tongue, scared that if you don’t, you might say something stupid—might tell him that you dreamt of him, too. Of the warmth of his touch, fingertips burning against your skin as they dipped lower lower lower. 

Weakness wins out, a strangled moan slipping from parted lips, “Aeg-” 

“Have you thought of me?” Aegon asks, brows furrowing into an unbearably innocent expression. You squirm against him, your back arching off the stone, hips desperately searching for friction. He clicks his tongue. “Words, dove. Use them.” 

Gods—how you hate yourself for this. For how easy it is for him to toy with you. For how much you enjoy it. 

You rasp, “Yes-” 

In response, a satisfied hum. “Good.” 

For a moment, somehow both brief and eternal, you wait for him to close that gap between you. Wait to feel his lips crash against yours, to taste the sweetness of his tongue. To have his touch once again strike a match within your soul, leaving you to burn in the ecstasy of his embrace. 

And then, suddenly, you feel it—

—the tip of his fucking dagger pressed against the underside of your jaw, a single bead of warmth trickling down the column of your throat. 

Lip curling into a snarl, you glare at Aegon. 

He looks all too pleased with himself, smirking as he asks, “Now am I better than Aemond?” 

You don’t answer him—not with words, at least. But he can see the response simmering in your eyes; a certainty that excited him far more than it scared him.

You were going to kill him.

a/n - honestly just wanted to practice writing a short little fight scene with this! originally this was going to be about aemond, but my love for aegon won out as it always does.

as always, like's comments and reblogs are appreciated! and if any of you want to talk about all things aegon or hotd/asoiaf, my asks/dms are open (please none of my irl friends like hotd i'm begging)

[multific]

A Mother's Love

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aegon getting stuck in a meeting is nothing new. Being held up by the nobles was a normal occurrence. However, all Aegon was thinking is how he would rather be in bed with you, his very pregnant wife. 

Aegon was held up by the council. His leg bounced as he grew more and more annoyed by the second.

All he wanted was to go back to bed, where you were, cuddle to your baby bump and forget about all this King nonsense.

Little did he know, that just as he was dreaming about your baby bump, you were on your bed, screaming in pain.

One of the servants went to fetch the King, but a knight stood in her way, not allowing the king to be disturbed. 

Aegon was now extremely irritated, he felt like for the entire day, he had been held in that damn room.

And he was.

As soon as he exited, the servant girl rushed over to him.

"My King! I have been waiting for you!"

"Not now! I wish to rest!" he tried to dismiss the girl.

"But My King! The Queen is in labor." that stopped Aegon. He slowly turned and looked at the girl.

"What did you just say?"

"She started her pains this morning, it is possible she has already given birth." said the girl.

"Why didn't you come and tell me sooner?!" Aegon was now yelling.

"The guards stopped me." she replied, Aegon looked at his guards, shooting extremely disappointed looks at them. But he can deal with them later.

Aegon then quickly turned and headed back to where your shared chambers was.

He opened the door, and there you were, your eyes met him and you smiled. Holding a little bundle in your arms.

Every servant left the room, leaving the King and Queen alone.

"I didn't know. They didn't tell me." he said, trying his best to explain himself but you just smiled. He moved closer to you.

"Doesn't matter anymore. Come, meet your son." you were quick to hand him the bundle as he sat down next to you. "He looks like you."

Aegon looked down at his son, his eyes and hair were the exact as his father's.

"I was hoping you would name him." you confessed and he gave a nod. He was too focused on the little baby.

"He is beautiful." Aegon whispered as the child yawned. "You gave me an angel." you smiled, closely watching the two. 

"I'm also extremely tired. If I may sleep for a bit."

"I will give him to the nurse."

"No, no Aegon." you were quick as he stood up, you reached towards your son. "I wish to have him here, please."

Aegon looked at you confused. "Why? You need to rest."

"Yes, of course. But I also need to bond with him. If I don't have him here... I do not wish to be like your mother was to you." you finally confessed. Your deepest worry since became aware of the little human inside you.

"You would never be like her." Aegon moved back onto the bed, sitting down once more. "You will be an amazing mother. You will show every woman what it is to be a mother. A mother who loves their child. I know you will, you grew to love me." you smiled.

"Leave him in his crib." you pointed at the little bed next to your side of the bed. "When he falls asleep, put him on his back into the bed and the small blanket over him. If he wakes and I don't, wake me, I'll feed him. Do not call a nurse. Promise me Aegon that you will not call a nurse." he could hear the desperation in your voice and as much as he knew you needed to rest, he also didn’t wish to fight your decision. 

"I promise you, My Love. I will do as you asked." you nodded before moving to lay down, watching the two as you fell asleep. 

Aegon looked at his son, slowly standing up as he walked to the windows, letting the late afternoon sun hit the child's beautiful round cheeks. 

Aegon placed a kiss onto the child's forehead. 

Aegon was still rather furious that the guards didn't warn him about what was happening in his own castle, he will make sure that they will learn their lesson. 

But just for now, he was okay with only holding his son as he watched you sleep.

A warm feeling completely filled his chest. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​​ @destynelseclipsa​​ @spilledinkindumpster​​ @capsiclesdoll​​ @puknow​​ @alwayshave-faith​​ @alex12948​​ @lxdyred​​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @praline357​​ @trshngyn​​ @avengers-r-us​​ @violet-19999​​ @top1bbgloak​​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[brokenmenswhore]

lessons | aegon ii targaryen

pairings: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: in search on the streets of silk for your husband, you find his brother in a compromising position

warnings: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), i’ve never written smut before so that’s a warning in itself

part 2

────── ☾ ──────

“Where is Aemond this morning?” you asked.

“I do not know, My Lady,” your handmaiden answered answered, “my apologies. He has not been seen since right after supper.”

You nodded.

You always felt a disconnect from your husband, your marriage existing mostly for political reasons. You weren’t sure where he went at night, but you had your suspicions, and you weren’t attached to him enough to let them bother you. You actually found yourself more attracted to his older brother, but he was already married, so it couldn’t matter.

Your handmaidens prepared you for the day before allowing you to leave your apartment.

“I think tonight we should all have breakfast together, don’t you?” Alicent spoke from behind you as you walked down the Red Keep halls.

Her voice caught you off guard. “Your Grace, yes, I think that would be nice.”

She smiled. “I think now, more than ever, we need to stress the importance of family. If you could wrangle in that husband of yours, it would be greatly appreciated. I already told Aegon, but he’s run off of course.”

“I will do my best,” you promised her.

She gave your arm a squeeze before walking away, the Commander of the King’s Guard close behind her.

Trying to find Aemond was almost useless. He grew up in King’s Landing, and knew every secret passageway, every shop, every darkened corner- and you barely knew your way around the Red Keep alone. You didn’t know King’s Landing, and you couldn’t outsmart them if you tried. But you knew men.

“Liyana,” you whispered, shuffling back into your room. Your handmaiden was rearranging the bed when she looked up at you. “Yes?”

“How do I get to the Street of Silk?”

Liyana’s eyes widened and she inhaled a deep breath. “My Lady, do forgive me, but whatever would you need there?”

You sighed, wanting to get along with this search, suspecting Aemond to be there every night, not realizing your handmaiden would be such an obstacle to overcome.

“I have my reasons, I promise, please. I don’t know my way around King’s Landing. I trust you. I need you,” you begged, “please. I think my husband is there. I need to retrieve him. Please.”

Liyana took pity on you and the desperation in your voice. “Quickly, if anyone sees you there it will bring even more gossip toward the Targaryen name. And I am only doing this because I like you.”

You gave Liyana and thankful smile as she fetched hooded robes to travel through the streets. While a few months ago, you could remain anonymous, the whole of King’s Landing attended Prince Aemond Targaryen’s wedding, and you are unfortunately not hard to spot, as the only (honorary) Targaryen without the staple silver hair.

“Luckily Aemond can’t be hard to miss,” you whispered to Liyana, “the man is a giant.”

This caused Liyana to giggle. She had never done something like this, and never been treated so friendly by someone she had to serve.

The further into the street you walked, the louder the moans got. At every turn, there was a woman crying out in pleasure, a pleasure you didn’t understand. You had had sex, once, on your wedding night and it was nothing like what you were witnessing. Were these woman okay? Were you the one who wasn’t okay? Was this how men wanted their wives? Why wouldn’t Aemond just tell you this?

You felt strange peeking into the rooms with cracked doors, through every curtain, into every crevice with bodies to check for Aemond.

“I must return, please, My Lady. Will you be safe?” Liyana questioned.

“Yes, I will be just fine. Thank you for your assistance. Return safely,” you replied.

Liyana smiled and walked away.

You continued scanning every street corner to no avail, until you decided to check the brothels. You didn’t really want to go in one, but you figured Aemond would know better than to be so obvious with his infidelities.

You snuck into one of the brothels, feeling gross about creeping on every couple or throuple, but anyone who caught you looking didn’t seem to mind. You peeked through one cracked door, and that’s when you saw him.

Aegon was laying naked on the bed, a girl in between his legs, his cock down her throat. You gasped but quickly covered your mouth to avoid being heard.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You watched as a sigh left his lips, head thrown back as he grabbed the back of the woman’s head.

A part of you felt constant pangs of jealousy, but a part of you felt… good? There was an inexplicable throbbing between your legs that you couldn’t place.

Aegon bunched up the woman’s hair and began to push and pull her up and down, groaning and whimpering as he did so. His other arm held him up on his elbow, watching what the woman was doing to him. It was like nothing you’d ever seen.

That’s when someone bumped into your back, pushing you into the door, causing you to stumble through the door.

The woman halted, trying to pull her mouth off of him, but Aegon held her on. He didn’t stop for anything, looking you straight in the eyes while he continued to move her head up and down.

You coughed and began to turn out of the room. “I- uh, I’m just-“ you pointed out the doorway, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna go.”

You rushed out of the brothel, realizing you had no clue where you were. You spun around a few times before completely giving up, ready to just ask the woman at the front of the door how to get back to the Red Keep.

“Y/N!” Aegon called, running out the door in hopes of catching you.

You hid your face from him, blush obvious and a statement of how ashamed you felt.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asked casually, as if you didn’t just see what you just saw.

“I was looking for Aemond,” is all you could say.

“All the way down here?” Aegon tsked, “not likely.”

This frustrated you. “No, I really was! I figured he was here. I was just looking for him when I saw-“

Aegon gave you a wide grin, waiting for you to finish the sentence. “When you saw what?”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

Aegon sighed in such annoyance at the title that he actually threw his head back and then walked closer to you.

“If you call me ‘Your Grace’ or ‘My King’ one more time-“

“You’ll what?” you retorted.

Aegon had always hated when you called him by a proper title. It always made him angry, and he always threw his hands up before saying something like, “fuck, would you just call me Aegon? For the millionth time-“

Aegon smiled. “Do you understand what you just saw?”

The question caught you off guard. You didn’t really want to answer it, but you knew there was no way out of this, and besides, Aegon probably knew the way home. “No.”

“Do you wish to?”

“Do I wish to what?” you asked for elaboration.

“Do you wish to understand?”

It felt as if there was a right answer and a wrong answer, but seven hells if you weren’t inclined to pick the wrong answer. You hadn’t found Aemond, which means he may not be committing infidelities after all, but you also hadn’t checked every brothel. Even if he was cheating, does that mean you could? Your marriage felt like nothing more than a legally binding contract, so was it even really cheating?

“Aemond doesn’t have to know.”

You looked at Aegon and contemplated his words. “Is he here?”

“How should I know?”

“I don’t know, you’re related.”

“You’re married to him.”

You raised your eyebrows in a “fair enough” kind of way. You wanted to understand so bad, to act on this excitement you felt when you saw him in there with her, but you were so scared.

“What happens on this street is not for the Red Keep, Y/N,” Aegon spoke, gently moving your hair to one side, “it can be just you and me.”

You nodded your head yes as Aegon led you to the room you had caught him in. The woman was still in there, waiting for his return.

“Get out,” he commanded, eyes never leaving yours.

“Me?” the woman asked.

His eyes were still on you when he said, “yes. Out.”

He held coins out in his hand for her to grab as she passed, exiting the room and allowing Aegon to close the door.

“Does doing this kind of stuff make you feel better?” you asked, curious as to what he was doing down here so early in the morning, especially when you knew he was dealing with a lot.

“In more ways than one, darling.”

The pet name made you shiver.

“What has Aemond taught you?” he asked.

You looked at him confused. “How to make a babe.”

“That’s it?” he asked in disbelief.

“I really don’t know what more there would be to it then that,” you admitted honestly.

Aegon sighed at your innocence. There was a whole world of pleasure out there that he could teach you about.

“Do you trust me?” Aegon asked.

“Yes.”

Aegon removed your hooded cloak and made quick work of anything on your torso, leaving your breasts exposed. He quickly attached his mouth to one, sucking like it had been forever since he was given what he needed. This you didn’t need an explanation for. Aegon’s mommy issues were obvious.

Once he made significant work of almost bruising your boobs, he stood back up, and moved his face toward yours.

“Fuck, Y/N, please let me kiss you.”

All the tension that had been building in you from the second you saw him that first time, ethereal, seated on the Iron Throne, came crashing down. You grabbed his head and pulled him into a heated kiss, not even allowing time for anything soft or gentle. Aegon moaned into your mouth, one of his hands finding its way to your underclothes. He began to very gently rub on top of your underclothes, causing you to squeak into the kiss.

“Sh, angel, it’s okay, it’s supposed to feel like that. Have you never touched yourself here?”

You blushed. “To- ha- myself?”

“Again, I just can’t find it in me to believe you.”

You let out a soft whimper as Aegon’s hand made it’s way under your small clothes, a finger running up and down right in between your folds. Your legs buckled a bit from the pleasure and sensation of the unfamiliar touch, and you grabbed Aegon’s shoulders. He noticed your struggle, and pushed you until you were back against a wall.

“Feel good?” he checked.

“Mhm,” was all you could get out.

“Use your words, angel,” he commanded, “tell me it feels good.”

You let out a moan. “It f- feels good.”

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, moving further down to slowly insert his middle finger into your soaking wet hole.

You gasped, not used to the unfamiliar sensation. He simply watched you, seeing how your face contorted with every push and pull of his finger, as his thumb began to rub circles on your clit. He leaned down to kiss your neck, biting down hard before licking and kissing at the bruise. You instinctively threw your head back, giving him more access to your neck as he continued to touch you. You let out whimper after whimper, but that wasn’t enough for Aegon.

He pulled his hand out, pushing your underclothes all the way down and directing you to lay on the bed.

“What you just saw?” he started, “it feels like this, but for me.”

You were about to ask what he meant when he grabbed your thighs, forcibly holding them apart as his tongue licked a long strip in between your legs. He couldn’t resist immediately eating you like a man starved, tongue twirling and flicking like he was deranged and his only sanity was watching you come.

He re-entered a finger into your hole, mouth still focused on your clit, and then entered another finger into your hole, curling both when they were fully inserted.

You remembered what you had just walked in on, and you grabbed the back of Aegon’s head, lightly pulling on his hair. Aegon moaned at the pulling, sending vibrations straight through your core, causing you to shiver.

He continued his assault on you until you felt a strange and unfamiliar feeling, like all the tension in your body was rising at a rapid rate.

“I feel you, angel, let go for me.”

At his words, the tension broke, and you came onto his fingers. He left them inside of you until your legs stopped shaking, pulling them out and making eye contact with you before he put both fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean of your juices.

You took a second to reset, but when you did, you sat up and said, “do we switch places now?”

“Catching on quickly, I see,” Aegon smiled, “you ready to learn?”

You nodded, sinking to your knees as he sat with his legs hanging off the bed.

“You have to be a good girl for me, can you do that?” Aegon asked you, and the question went straight to your core.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Aegon.”

“Try again.”

You looked up at him. He constantly told you not to call him by a title and insisted you only called him Aegon. Was it because the title ignited something within him?

“Yes, My King.”

“Perfect,” he hummed.

After giving his cock a few strokes, he reached out for your hand. “Put this hand here,” he said, showing you how to grab the base of his length with your right hand, “and you can move your hand up and down when your mouth can’t take all of me.”

“So I just- do it?” you asked.

“If you’d like,” Aegon said.

You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the head, opened your mouth, and began sinking onto his length.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “good job, just watch your teeth. Hollow out your cheeks, good girl.”

You did as he said, getting a bit more comfortable with how to perform the act. You began experimenting with moving faster, and with moving your tongue around, licking the tip of his cock as you bobbed your head.

Aegon grabbed your head, just as he did the woman, and started to take liberties with his own pleasure. He threw his head back, whines leaving his lips as he began to hit the back of your throat. You gagged, but he quickly worked to calm you down, saying “relax, baby, that’s part of it, just breathe through your nose- fuck.”

You continued to obey, doing whatever he suggested, until you felt the muscle spasm and a hot, bitter liquid hit the back of your throat.

Aegon held your head for another moment, ensuring everything had gone into your mouth before pulling out.

Even when he pulled out, he moved to hold your mouth closed as he said, “swallow.” You did as he asked before he loosened his grip. “Good girl.”

You stayed there, on your knees, waiting for his next instruction. He stood up, tucked his cock back into his breeches, and held out his hand to assist you up. You looked at him confused, having not even gotten to the part you actually knew.

“Angel, it’s early and we have a breakfast to attend, I can teach you more later.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Aegon: hey, how are you-

Cannibal: *growls*

Aegon: *clings onto reader* GET YOUR FUCKING DRAGON BITCH!

Reader: he doesn’t bite ☺️

Aegon: YES IT DO!! HE EATS EVERYTHING THAT MOVES!!!

[aemondwhoresworld]

aegon and his beauty