#chubby!King!Aegon ii targaryen

[lovelykhaleesiii]

ok but chubby!Aeg with a new wife reader and him just fucking her constantly with a breeding kink and barely letting her out of his chambers until his family finds her would be incredible...

And good luck with your period beautiful, it seems I'm headed there as well

sorry for the delayed response lovely, hope you are better now xox this ask is delicious, thank you for sending it in! any type of Aeg with a breeding kink is something else...

Duty to the Realm.

PAIRING: chubby!King!Aegon ii Targaryen x Queen!fem!Reader

WORDS: 3,522.

WARNINGS: arranged marriage, breeding kink, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, slightly cruel!Aegon ii, female receiving (f*ingering), edging, overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming, swearing, posessive!Aegon, p in v sexual intercourse, mentions of pregnancy/birth.

A/N - I may have gotten carried away a little bit, but that's okay. shoutout for my bitchass anon, that seems to be OBSESSED with me, enjoy reading and hating on this asshole.

​​The marital duty expected of the woman to the man was one of a common, natural phenomena, that many in the realm would often not bat an eye to, yet one that held great anticipation for you, in your case. Particularly considering, your lawful husband was no other than the sole King of the Seven Kingdoms. An heir was the ultimate and primary responsibility, expected of you both to fulfil. A royal decree and order of the Faith.

He was to bed you as much as it pleased your Sire, as you were to carry and birth as many lively heirs as possible, blessed as the Gods saw fit. Your anointed Septas had spoken to you countlessly to this coming night, and your dearest mother before her untimely passing: all reinstating the other, that childbirth was no easy game. A duty of womankind and also an honour. To be blessed by the Mother herself, with the gift to carry and birth healthily.

Nonetheless, arrangements made, your House meticulously selected, as your husband to be, Aegon the Second of his name, had been thoroughly consulted by his liege council, thought that the most viable candidate to bear the shared responsibility of carrying out the infamous Targaryen dynasty, was you. Now that the Dance had come to its long-awaited end, Aegon the ultimate successor, reparations needed to be made and lines secured for the generations forthcoming.

The wedding was a swift and grandiose occasion: rich food and wine, opulent gifts and crowds [many faces unfamiliar to yourself] gathered in abundance, the union was legitimised by the Faith of the Seven, binded by law. Aegon scarcely spoke to you during the special occasion besides catching his lingering, lilac eyes fleeting over towards you. Strangely you had also noticed, Aegon would not allow for you to speak for yourself. Often promptly intercepting, answering general questions and well wishes on your behalf, before a peep escaped your reddened lips: you found it odd and somewhat harrowing.

It was an ambivalent feeling, as though Aegon acknowledged your physical presence, yet refused to grant you the privilege to speak nor appreciate you? You felt trivial against his stance, nothing more than a vessel at his complete disposal. You came to the haste, haunting conclusion of neglect... "Aegon does not love me."

Aegon took you to bed that dreadful night, ruling against his Council for a meek audience to be present. He vowed a promise, his lingering words "the deed will be done" remained echoing in your thoughtlessly numb mind.  The door locked as Aegon saw to it himself, no words spared other than fleeting glances, as he took a swift swing of his Dornish wine that accompanied him, as he departed from the feast with you. Observing Aegon this near, his authority in the realm, was not the only quality in him that held a substantially formidable presence...

Unlike his younger brothers, Aegon was fuller in size. His stocky thighs and legs accentuated in size by the tightly fitted breeches, was accompanied by a portly round stomach that looked tense and swollen from the delectable wedding feast and drinking. Not that you had much of an appetite that evening, however, Aegon did not halt when a full serving was laid in front of him, nor the seconds that he demanded for, or a slice of the exquisite cake. One thing you had noticed tonight that you had never heard of before, was that Aegon had an impressive appetite. Whether it was from the nerves of having to bed a woman he scarcely knew, or the undeniable, looming fear of failing to provide an heir, he ate intensely and seemed to enjoy himself rather. The way he'd savour his last few bites, eyes rolling back in satisfaction, how he did not shy away from sculling two full pitchers worth of wine [yet remained stable on his feet and wickedly alert]. Although, a strange, yearning sensation began to churn below, a dull ache growing stronger right between your inner thighs, as you fleetingly observed Aegon's large hand tenderly palming over his distended belly. Close enough in his proximity, you heard an occasional low belch escape from Aegon's plump, greasy lips, poorly attempting to muffle his discomfort with a tight fist over his mouth.

Now in the privacy of your shared, royal chambers, his arms looked strong and sturdy: the flesh of his fingers pooling tightly around his precious rings. Although his face was wildly handsome as most Targaryen men beared celestial-like attributes, history would tell. The ruggedness remaining evident from blatant, healing scars strewed across the side of his cheek and forehead, proof of the recent battles he had bravely fought and won, did not hinder your undeniable attraction towards him. And yet, there was also a softness to his features, the flesh of his jaw ample and blurred, his cheeks plump.

You prayed in that very moment, that Aegon was just as pleased about you, as you were with him.

Undressing himself off his fine fabrics, lashing the pieces onto the floor as though they cost nothing, your tense body froze completely, as Aegon took slow strides towards you. Only inches apart, his rough hands snaking their way behind your illustrious gown, untying the strings effortlessly, as though this was not the first time he had bedded a woman.

"You know what is expected of you," Aegon firmly uttered, his tone unfaltering and deep, you felt your body grow rigid, as his rough hands met your bare skin, the gown loosely falling off your body.

Your naked body rigid, and mind frail, you could not muster the valour to respond timely, seemingly infuriating Aegon.

"Speak woman, use your words for me."

Feeling his thumb simultaneously flicking at your sensitive, perked nipple, sent shivers down your spine, his fierce, glowing eyes cursing from your breasts to your timid face.

"Y-Yes, my dear," You delicately stuttered, your sullen breath hitching in your throat, as you tried to focus solely on fixating your gaze on Aegon and not daring to look to the ground.

"Hmm, therefore you realise what is expected of me, yes? As your dutiful husband and as the King of the Seven Kingdoms, you understand what I must do to you, yes?"

Aegon's hand that was previously occupied playfully kneading and teasing your breast, now sneaked below to your waist, along with his other, his fingertips firmly tightening around the curves for your hips. His head tilted down, lowering his taller height to meet yours, as his lips found their way melting over your flushed skin.

"Y-Yes my King. Y-Yes, Aegon. A child I must bear, an heir... As many heirs as you see fit my King, I will do as you ask, as you please."

A low growl etched from Aegon's throat, animalistic even, as they momentarily broke free from you, as his thumb now gently grazing over your blush cheek and shut lips.

"Together we share this burden, but rest assured, my dear. I will do everything in my power to ensure the Kingdom has an heir. If that means fucking you day and night, sealing you in this room and chaining you to this bed then so be it. Till your dripping proudly of my seed until you take. Not until I see your belly swell greatly with my babe growing inside, may I let you roam the halls freely once more. Understood?"

"Understood."

That night Aegon took you to bed with caution and great intent. He was effortless in handling you, guiding and adjusting your body according to his positions, lifting and carrying you as though you weighed nothing more than a feather. Kissing you abundantly and with passion, often suckling at your tender flesh around your neck and breasts, you felt the spots that he had latched onto growing sore. His eager mouth occupied, his free hand found its way to your cunt, now moist with excitement, throbbing for something more. He remained generous, inserting two of his longest, thick digits inside, pumping himself in a steady, slow pace, feeling your keen walls stretching mildly, clenching around the base of his knuckles, the deeper he plunged himself in. With each helpless moan that slipped from your mouth that he earned, the deeper he shoved himself in, feeling a slick smirk spread against your neck.

"That's it, my love. You don’t even need to tell me just how bad you need your King to fuck you, I can practically feel your body begging for me, baby."

Countless more breathless moans escaped your lips that you'd desperately bit shut, that you could no longer resist. The silent void of the room gradually filling with the natural sounds of lust, as you stuttered and whimpered your King's name aloud.

"Ugh- A-Aeg. I need my King n-now. I w-want my Aeg-"

"Fuck-" Aegon spat, his teeth softly biting down on the ample flesh of your breast, tugging at your tender skin, causing a sharp jolt of pain to shock you, before letting loose. All the while unknowing to you, your Grace had a third digit inserted deep within your walls, his fist now coated in your pooling wetness, oozing between the gaps of your entrance, as his pace had hasten, his thick fingers deeply inside pumping and pushing against the natural tightness of your enclosure. The strange, dense weight and friction of his fingertips rousing against your sensitive clit.

"That's right. Warming you up so, yet it seemed you were already a soaking mess for me, my love.”

Muffled moans as you weakly attempted to fight the urge to scream and beg for more. Aegon's wicked fingers inside, tormenting you as he quickened his pace and the ferocity of his motion. Your back arching lusciously, as your hips bucked upwards and back again, motioning for more.

"Think you are ready for me, baby? Think you are ready to take my cock, till I fuck you full of my hot seed. Are you ready to be a mother?"

"Y-Yes, Aeg!" You breathlessly yelp, your hands having instinctively found their way to his platinum locks, the mottled strands caught in your fingers, as you grasped and pulled at his roots. As your arms outstretched below your sides, your breasts naturally shoved and pressed together in unison, accentuating your obvious cleavage more so, that Aegon helplessly found himself tempted. Only a second bypassed, before the bulky King found himself crawling further up atop your yielding body, with great effort, huffing and puffing as he subtly caught his breath, before burying his handsome face between, suckling at your hard, perky nipples. His heavy, round belly laid sprawled against your own abdomen, feeling his clothed, rigid cock beneath his tight pants, the tense bulge probing at your inner thigh walls.

"Soon these will be greatly full of the Mother's blessed milk, and I will relish myself with the spoils of my babe growing inside. Knowing that it was all my undoing, that made you so. Gods be good, they will be full enough, practically leaking from the vast supply. Our babes will be well fed, and I, too, hmm."

"A-Aeg, I need you. F-Fuck a babe into me, a-and I shall feed and fuck you, a-as you please."

"Mhmm, my good, pretty wife. Already at my mercy-"

Feeling the rush movements of Aegon's free hand below [as the other remained steadying himself], you had no sense of what was occurring below, nor could you see, as his stout belly blocked your view. Yet the sudden, grazing sensation of his moist, hard cock teasing at the entrance of your wet, throbbing folds, you could bear it no more.

"You promise you can take me, baby? Show me how well of an obedient wife you can be, just as much of a pretty one you are."

No warning and no remorse, Aegon shoved his thick, stiff cock into your aching, tight cunt. Despite Aegon's perilous efforts of 'warming you up', nothing amounted to the concoction of sheer ecstasy and pain that coarsed through your veins, as your King's cock, stretched you out, pushing your limits beyond comfort. And yet, you could feel the familiar, dull throbbing sensation growing more palpable by the second: desperately trying to clench around the girth of his fat, bulky circumference, your nails digging into the plump adipose flesh of his broad shoulders and back, as you remained stagnant and tense around him.

"That's it, baby- Fuck. D-Doing so, so well for me. I can just fucking feel how tight you really are around me, fuck! L-Let me just break into you, easy, easy now-"

Moaning cries and whimpers filled Aegon's ears, yet he remained focused. His pace although messy and sloppy was steady, slowly slowly, thrusting himself as equipped as his larger frame would allow him, his solid weight weighing him down against you, you move no further than squirm with remaining, great effort. Feeling his pulsating cock inside, striking adamantly against your cervix, and the pressure of his swollen, distended gut, pressing from above, with each passing second as you felt an immense, stimulating arousal brewing from below. The fierce, physical tensity of Aegon's size inside and out, was invigorating, as your body obediently attempted to adjust to your husband's size.

"Good-Good wife. That's it, baby, I'm going to cum any second now. Fuck this pretty, tight cunt of yours was needy for her King to spoil. I can feel how desperate you are for my babe, huh?"

"Y-Yes, Aeg-"

"I'm going to keep you locked up, all for myself. Till I can fuck as many heirs as I see fit. U-Until this entire quarter is full of our babes, till the realm can hear their cries. You and this tight cunt of yours are not leaving. Not until I'm fucking satisfied. All mine, now."

"Of-Of course, my King-"

"Fuck, Y/N, was I right about you, huh? Obedient from the start, you greedy, little brat, you wanted this just as much as I. Could you imagine yourself as I did, only full of my royal seed, only you worthy to take me."

"O-Only me. M-Made just for you, Aeg, as the Gods deemed it."

"No, woman. I deemed it. I made the decision. I wanted you. O-Only this cunt to take my seed, these hips to grow wide for the birth, and this belly to swell proudly. Till I see these tits leak and you waddling around, begging me to hold and carry you, this was all my undoing from the start. I am the King, the closest thing to the Gods, and farthest from men."

"Th-Then I am eternally at your mercy and will. M-My beloved-"

As you felt the tense excitement sparking below, the invigorating relief as your wetness had reached a peaking climax, the shudder of chills that echoed through your body, the momentum evaporated, as you twitched and felt feeble against Aegon’s sturdy build. Your wetness drenching his cock, as it once more, oozed heavily against your folds and inner thighs. Aegon's immediate, instinctive release adjunct to your own, earned a mouthful of deep, growling moans and breathless swears from the King himself in relief. His hot, ample seed shot through inside, painting your inner walls, as you felt his body weight drop even more against you, all energy exerted.

Shifting himself to your side, as to not suffocate you against his bulky frame, embracing your flustered, exhausted self in his strong arms, his twitching, thick cock, however remained buried inside.

"Tonight we shall remain united as man and woman, like so. Heed my words earnestly, Y/N. Until I see this belly grow round and full, you will stay in this chamber, until I say otherwise. You obey no other orders unless directly from me, understood? I will send maids to help you, you will not lift a single finger so long as you are my wife. You answer to no one but me.”’

Feeling your nod against his plump, meaty chest. Aegon’s hands found their way to your unkempt, loose hair. Brushing the strands off your sweaty, blush face. Although his words were stern and mildly threatening, his actions remained tender.

“B-But what if the Gods do not see me fit to mother your heirs? W-what if I am… What if I am barren, my King?”

Aegon’s silence was eerily unnerving, although his breath did not hitch in shock of your sudden question, his breathing now regained to stability, remained unfaltering as he contemplated.

“You are my wife, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. If anyone wishes to question your purpose in my life, regardless of whom, will answer to me… The King. And they will anguish as I see fit.”

The bright days and chill nights had passed since the wedding night. Aegon, committed to his promise, whenever his duty fulfilled and time free, he would return to you, only to embrace you, love you and fuck you. Proudly filling you day and night full of a fresh batch of his seed, despite practically still being a drenching mess from when he had last left you. Servants attended to your every need: when he felt he had you exhausted, pushed to your limits, your body delicate and tiresome eyes drifting off to a deep slumber. He would let you be, only sharing close proximity as he embraced you cozily. He ordered the chefs to have your supper and meals sent piping hot, in a timely manner and occasionally found himself joining you in attendance, than his own family feasts. A table set up for the both of you, an intimate quiet dinner between a husband and his wife. He much preferred your company, anyways.

His family, more often the Dowager Queen and Hand, himself, promptly questioned Aegon regarding your whereabouts, he would disclose to you.

“At one point my dear mother had feared you’d run away,” Aegon chuckled, as he scoffed a piece of his roast down, followed by a scull of his wine.

“And what if I had? Would you let me be, or have Ser Arryk sent out to seek me out, dear husband?”

Aegon’s familiar eyes flashed towards you instantly, although the longing, tender look was replaced with a cold, menacing pierce.

“Go against this union, means you go against my decision… The decision of your King. I would send out a whole battalion if need be, and when I have you in my grasp, I will rid you of this luxury and see to it that I lock you up in one of the cells below the Red Keep. Fuck you like a common whore, and summon you like a predator to its prey. Until I’m certain you’ve learnt your lesson… Now are you still tempted to run?”

Shaking your head promptly, Aegon’s half-hearted smirk was enough to ease the tension. With all the intimacy involved, you had both gradually become quite comfortable with one another, enough to speak your minds, as Aegon often urged from you on your behalf. Although, only between you two. He firmly ordered for servants and guards alike, to be absent during your shared moments, in an attempt to ease you into speaking with confidentiality and also, to avoid whispers being spread. After the Dance, Aegon was often sceptical of people’s intentions, considering all the treachery he’d been exposed to during the early years of his reign.

Regardless, it was Aegon who was the first to notice subtle changes, only adding it all up when you had meekly disclosed to him that you had not bled in the past two months. Immediately he sought a guard to fetch for the maester and soon enough, his long-awaited wishes had been confirmed.

Aegon often watched over you more intensely now, his eyes ogling over your swelling belly, how the waistline of your gown had grown slightly tighter around your stomach, and your breasts looking fuller, more sensitive under his teasing touch. Relieved, however it was far from the end for Aegon... The King himself, had become even more brutally protective over you, and the babe inside, still adamant on keeping you confined, rested and guarded.

"No harm will come towards you or the babe, so long as I breathe and rule."

He even had Sunfyre tenaciously fly above your tower, granting him peace of mind that no threat could overpower the fury of a dragon.

Nonetheless, the Gods had blessed you to full term, and a healthy babe was born. A son, a true embodiment of the Targaryen dynasty, and the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Aegon was beyond sated that you and the babe had recovered from the gruelling nature of birth, and seldom to his words, he allowed you free to roam, with the newborn warmly nestled in your arms, and Aegon relentlessly by your side. That was until, the King felt the desire for yet another heir to be proclaimed."Need I remind you of our wedding night, my beloved... You promised your King as many heirs. It is only natural as a true-born Targaryen, that I take what is mine."

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe

credit for divider - @/babesindestroyland

[insomniakisses]

Thinking about your mother Rhaenyra and step father Daemon not wanting you to marry Aegon, bc hes alicents son and bc in Daemonds words “hes a fat, drunk cunt”

So at the family meal you make a show of feeding him his food, holding his cup as he drinks wine. And ofc your whispering the sweetest and kinkiest things in his ear as you rub his belly.

[keepingupwiththeboltons]

How I sit on the chair made of swords

[bucknastysbabe]

hello hello lovely

saw that your requests were still open, and I’m craving Aegon. need your precious writing to revamp my love for him 💓

could I request chubby!Aegon where the reader becomes jealous and he makes it up to her? don’t have anything specific in mind just along those lines. I need that big boy to grovel 🫠

thank you, appreciate you 💋

- @lovelykhaleesiii xo

Anything for you my helina🥰🥰loved writing this

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW: mention of overeating, mentioned weight gain, chubby!aegon, au!no war, northern reader, pwp, Aegon being aegon, breeding kink, pnv!sex, certified boob man aeg ii, lactation kink mentioned, creampie

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @dr-aegon @starogeorgina @jamespotterismydaddy @elaratyrell @zaldritzosrose @sugarpoppss2 @saintaegon @fairysluna @targaryen-madness

Aegon could put on a farce with the best of the mummers. He was all smiles and drunken japes at dinner. Talking, eating, talking, eating, and his favorite— drinking. Your husband’s abilities appeared to grow along with his new titles. He was a king now and certainly filled the part.

You sat next to him with a pinched face, carefully sipping your wine. Aemond looked on with barely concealed disgust, sharp features twitching. He raised a brow at you, jerking his sharp chin toward your husband. Aemond’s need for control might be worse than your own. The king was the king, there was not much you could do outside the bedroom. Aegon was chatting with Lord Jason Lannister. You despised the Westerman and what he represented, the Northron blood in you appalled at the South’s materialism.

Jason snorted, “Well, you’ve heard of the petulant princess down in Dorne hm? Fashions herself the new Nymeria. Heard she’s quite beautiful.”

Aegon replied around a gulp of wine, “Is it them or the Iron Islanders that take on all those wives? She can join my harem. I do know the Dornish are easy, much easier than mine own wife.” He leaned forward on thick arms to jest, “Pray tell, what’s this Martell’s name? Mayhaps I’ll send a letter.”

The pair guffawed. You quietly put your cup down and excused yourself. Aegon called after you between his giggles, “My love! Come on! Take a damn joke, yeah?”

You seethed, blood icy at his embarrassing behavior. He knew better than to insult you, his queen, the one he came crying to when times got hard. Your kingsguard filtered in behind you, scrambling to catch up. Ser Darklyn’s questions were ignored.

Safe in your chambers, you pulled down the kady bar. Rage unfurled beneath your skin— you would not show it to him. You never did unless it was a slap to his full cheeks. A tear fell, the droplet smacked away like a pest. You’d go to sleep, Aegon could wait until you’d calmed.

“Fucker. Southron cock-gargler.”

As expected, his familiar presence came to crawling. Well, flopping onto your bed with his weight, the ropes creaking as he cursed lowly. Aegon cursed, “Fuckin’ damn- beds!” You jerked up your legs, sitting upright to light a candle, blinking the little sleep out of your eyes.

The blonde frowned at the dim light, chubby cheeks pooching at the movement. He wore a simple linen shirt and breeches, white hair all mussed. You frowned at your thoughts turning soft, as your lord husband looked handsome in the gentle lighting.

Aegon murmured, thick fingers circling your ankle, “Are you upset? I was merely joking.”

“No, go on, take a mistress from every great house if you so desire, my king.”

His violet eyes rolled at your acrid reply, the man coming closer to your position. He sighed, “I don’t plan on it, why would I do that?” Narrowing your eyes, you threw a pillow at his head to escape further across the bed. Aegon grunted as he was pelted, the blonde casted a bewildered look your way, brows pinched.

“I don’t want to hear it, that was shameful to speak as if I were not there, go away Aegon,” you hissed.

He groaned loudly, hand running through his wild waves. The king asked, face dead serious “Do I need to beg? Hm? My frozen queen of the north is the only one I’m fucking. Sweetling wants to see me grovel?”

Your stomach fluttered at the thought, eyes flicking to his earnest expression across the bed. You sniffed quietly, holding out a hand, “Yes. I want you to beg for me. Then maybe I’ll forget the slight. You talk like such a whore at the table yet you forget who rules your cock.”

He moaned, eyes rolling at the words before taking your hand and lowering himself with a grunt. Aegon looked up through his lashes, plump lips pink and perfect. He murmured, “Can’t believe you. Lady wants me to grovel. All I do is think about my wife day and night.”

You stared him down, pleased so far.

“I’m not seeing anyone, nor do I care to. I’m not some young little slip anymore. Too busy eating your cunt than diving into every hole up the street of silk, yeah? Maybe that’s why I can’t close my belt?”

You moaned, “I didn’t make you, ah, you do that Aegon.”

“Mhm, that’s why you slide me extra cake. Now, what was I saying,” he was kissing an ankle now, carefully holding your leg, “Why would I go get some bratty Dornish nymphet, or any other lady for that matter? I’ve fucked a babe into you twice now. It’s a bit intoxicating watching you ripen up with my seed.”

You whined at that, resolved to break soon. Being pregnant with the children was some of your fondest moments. Some most erotic from your insatiable husband. His increased weight? Likely came from him drinking your tits up every night before each babe.

Aegon hummed, eyes blown with lust, lips at your knee. The king rasped, “I’d like to fuck more into you tonight if you’ll forgive me, I only love my queen. Always and truly ever you, sweeting. Mayhaps twins? Your teats will be quite ripe for me then.”

You gasped and pulled his shoulders, Aegon already knew the intention as he hiked up your shift and yanked it off. In a flurry of movement, you pulled at the strings on his breeches while he exposed his thickened body. He was stout, not necessarily a true softling. It made the king more intimidating, with wide hips and a sturdy midsection. You loved it.

“Uh-huh, you’re gonna fuck twins into me? That’s a way to make up for being an absolute t-twat.”

You tried to hiss but there was no real heat, especially with his soft lips against your neck, gluttonous hands on your tits. Aegon pressed your naked form into the bed, his flushed cock snug against your thigh. Delicate white hair tickled at your neck as you squirmed. The king’s bulk had you utterly pinned, stocky thighs keeping your legs open.

He nipped at thin skin, laughing, “Where’s all the cold anger hm? Needed to be coddled and warmed up? You’re no better than me, love.”

Another shiver ran up your spine, goosebumps erupting atop your skin. You hooked a leg around his cushy waist and gritted, “Kiss me dammit. You were the ass here.” He laughed again, lips searching your own, the familiar plush a balm to your stung pride.

You opened up for him, lips lazily caressing against Aegon’s more insistent kisses, tongue bullying its way in. He gripped at your waist, rutting a few times against your cunt. The bulbous tip catching your clit made you whine and cling to his fleshy sides.

The Targaryen breathed, “Never takes you long to get all nice and slick for me huh? Turn your nose up but your pussy gets wet. Every. Damn. Time.” He punctuated his words with jerks of his hips and grinned as you cursed his name, arching into his soft belly.

You rolled back against him, demanding, “Enough talk, you’re here to make it up. Ah, careful,” you chastised as he pulled one of your tits up to bite at your budded nipple, “Fuck me dammit! Breed me up then!”

Aegon grinned sharply, cooing, “Why didn’t you just say so, dearest? I’ll make sure you take it all.”

He shoved a pillow under your flared hips, pressing gentler kisses on any available skin. Aegon huffed as he jerked his hand under a heavy stomach to grab his cock, guiding it into your soaked cunt. Your knees tightened up around him, exhaling a shaky moan.

He never failed to fill you up perfectly, with a girthy cock that he well knew how to use. Aegon groaned, lashes fluttering as he bottomed out, “Mmm, fuck, always so godsdamn soaked for your king.” One of his big hands clapped down on your ass— you threw your head back as he began to fuck you in earnest.

Aegon was an…excitable lover. He was mouthy and rough, a true passion of his to empty his balls into cunt. Thankfully, it was yours and yours only for the past years. You panted against his soft jaw, nipping at the flesh as he stretched your walls out, tip dragging against the tender ridges and spongey spots.

He angled you further, allowing his lower tummy to rub and stifle your bundle of nerves. You cried out his name, heaving as Aegon paid no heed, single-minded determination across his face. Shivers wracked your spine, shooting down your spread legs.

“Mhm, that’s my baby, shaking all over, needed my cock to settle you down? You say I’m needy. Yet your body screams for more.”

“F-fuck Aegon, quit it, oh gods!”

He took your lips again, sweat building up between you two as passions grew frantic. You keened. “Breed me, love, want more babes, make me yours again and again- hnn- mm!” Blood suffused your face, irritably hot as you registered the wanton pleas.

Aegon doubled down, hands pressing your thighs up, bending your stimulated frame. His belly still sat heavily on your clit, sparks of pleasure muddling any sort of coherence. Aegon was panting now, hair damp with exertion. He growled, “Yeah, yeah, gonna keep you full mama, let the kingdom see how well my queen takes my seed. Gods, gods, fucking hell, gonna fill you up. Plug ya’ so you don’t leak.”

You whimpered as your belly was awash with intense sensation, bundling nerves ready to fire. Aegon’s rambling about you being his perfect queen and good mama throttled you to the precipice, pussy clamping down on his cock. You wanted it all, your cunt was milking him for it. Seeking that hot feeling of his spend coating your sore insides.

“Fucking others!,” came your howl— your delirious thoughts catapulting you into gushing all over Aegon with a squeal. The king stuttered and cursed, a broken moan leaving swollen lips. He surged forward, dragging his tip against your cervix, face cutely scrunching as he emptied, shaking and moaning your name.

His spend was molten hot and overfilling your cunt, Aegon selfishly feeling around the side of the bed, crushing your overwhelmed body. He whined, “Fuuh-uck, love, feel too good, hold on.” You furrowed your brows before surprise hit your features.

That motherfucker was going to plug you up.

His lidded eyes danced as he drawled, “I wanted twins, mama.”

You squirmed and mewled when his cock left and a cold wedge replaced it. He shushed and pet you, kissing you tenderly as you grew used to the foreign object. You could feel his seed stuffed inside— trying not to dwell on it so hard. Aegon flopped onto his back, pulling your body snugly against his soft, warm one. You murmured, “That was some hell of an apology. Bastard.”

He sleepily murmured, “M’sorry dove, was mean. I’ll do better,” he squeezed you tight and planted a kiss on the crown of your head, “Only for my queen. Mmh, pray to your old gods— papa wants twins.”

You snorted, biting back laughter at his outright silly statement.

“Mhm Papa, prayers coming up. Sot.”

[anastaaaaaaasia]

The First Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Important notice: in this series reader has features of Ser Harwin, including Brown hair and tone of skin.

Next chapter

Prologue

Warnings: mention of blood, children (who knows)

Chaos.

The room was in chaos. Maids ran from one corner to another, midwives bended over the princess's body on the bed. The smell of sweat, blood and milk of the poppy mixed into one stench that was nastier than the smell in the farthest corners of Flea Bottom. The sounds were no better. The rustling of sheets, the maester's stern instructions and the screams of Princess Rhaenyra.

It was a hot summer day in King's Landing, so the windows were wide open. Those inhabitants of the Red Keep who decided to take a walk near the Godswood were unlucky, the windows from the maternity room just looked out there. Few people knew, but at the moment of the most desperate screams, the dragon Syrax also screamed several miles away.

Outside the walls of the room, in the corridors of the red castle, there was also chaos. Maids brought new potions while others ran around looking for new towels. When the door opened and a maid began to carry out bloody sheets in a wicker basket, Ser Laenor staggered and abruptly closed Jace's eyes. Although the boy is only a year old, he could not allow his son to see this picture.

Queen Alicent shrugged when she saw the number of towels and sheets in a bloody color. All of her births were relatively easy and it was unusual and frightening to see this. Any woman in the Seven Kingdoms knew that while men fight on the battlefield in armor and with swords in their hands for gold, fame and new lands, women fight on the birth bed with maesters and midwives, for their lives and the lives of their children.

Alicent was rocking the newly born Aemond at this time; the chubby-cheeked boy was calm enough for his age. One-year-old Heileina was busy with a toy dragon figurine her father had given her. The young princess babbled happily as the toy appeared in her view.

At this time, her father was trying to distract himself from his thoughts. He saw such a picture not so long ago, a couple of years ago. When Viserys met long-awaited son. When he made a decision that still haunts him in the darkness of the night. When he lost his wife Aemma. Just the thought of the possible loss of his daughter brought back all the darkest images and awakened what King Viserys tried so desperately to forget, but never could. The ruler of Westeros decided that if the maesters asked to make a choice in favor of a mother or a child, he would do everything to ensure that Laenor named his wife, no matter what.

Everyone was busy with their own worries, so no one noticed how the young prince, the first son of the king, entered the room after the maid. The boy hid behind the closet when a couple of moments later the room was filled with children's cries. He carefully looked out from behind the furniture and saw that the master was holding a new member of the family. They were covered in mucus and blood. Then Aegon thought how disgusting little children were. He might never even get close to Aemond, who knows, maybe he too suddenly becomes like this. No one wants to be dirty in this mixture, especially the young prince.

Then he looked at his older sister, she was lying there and smiling. Rhaenyra stopped screaming as if she had been eaten by a dragon. Now she was lying and waiting for the first meeting with her child.

“It’s a girl, princess,” said the master. Then he placed the newborn in the hands of the princess. She smiled and stroked her new daughter's cheek. This action caused a sudden burst of laughter from the little girl. And then Aegon looked further than he should have.

A sudden gasp from one of the maids caught the attention of everyone in the room, and Aegon turned to see the maid looking straight at him. Then the young prince realized that he was in trouble. He smiled guiltily and tried to hide his eyes.

“My prince, the birthing room is not a place for men,” said the master and ordered that the boy be taken to his parents.

“But you are here, and you don’t look like a female maester, unless you are hiding something from us,” the prince smiled, and devils danced in his eyes. The princess grinned and interrupted the slightly indignant maester.

“Dear little brother, may I ask, what are you doing here?” Rhaenyra looked at her four-year-old brother. The boy didn’t know what to answer and just stood there, then he shrugged and looked at his sister.

"Do you want to see her?" Rhaenyra broke the silence and pointed to the little girl in her arms. Aegon took a couple of steps to the bed and, with the help of his sister, climbed onto it. Big eyes looked at him, he couldn’t understand what color they were.

Perhaps he had not yet learned its name; playing with the sword was much more interesting than sitting in the chambers with the maester and listening to his boring sayings.

He also saw that her skin was slightly bluish. He remembered that Aemond also had a bluish tint, but after a couple of weeks he became pinker and ruddier. The next feature of her appearance was a pair of brown hairs, which he had never seen in his family. Aegon knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t explain it, and it didn’t matter to him. His nephew, Jace, was also dark-haired, and Aegon had sometimes heard his mother complain about it. He honestly didn't understand why Queen Alicent was worried about his hair color. It's just a color, isn't it?

Aegon wanted to touch reaching up to the girl’s plump cheeks, but suddenly froze, looking at his sister, mentally asking permission. Rhaenyra nodded warmly, and the little prince touched his cheek. It felt like the softest fluff, the newborn smiled her toothless smile and Aegon smiled back. Suddenly the girl squeezed the toddler's finger into her fist and started laughing.

“She seems to like you,” said the princess.

“What is her name?” Aegon asked his sister. Rhaenyra didn't know what to answer. She didn't discuss women's names. Yes, she always wanted to name her sister Visenya, but the wound from the loss of her mother and all her shattered dreams was still fresh. She didn't know what to answer and then looked at the young prince.

“What do you want to call her?”

Aegon thought only for a couple of seconds, because he knew the answer to this question. There was a name he loved and it intrigued him. How melodious it sounds and rolls off the tongue. He heard this name during lessons with the master, he was almost asleep, but when he heard the name he suddenly woke up. It was something from Andal legends.

“Y/N,” Aegon said proudly and smiled, the girl also smiled and drooled a few times. A few got on his hand and the young prince shook them off contemptuously. Rhaenyra just laughed at that.

"Sometimes children do disgusting things," Aegon declared.

[aegoniiwifey]

Anon who requested the chubbydaddy!aegon and his daughter <3 you did my request justice and way more I'm obsessed- I literally reread it like ten times I love it. Also another chubbydaddy!aegon request: Aegon getting requests to court/ wed his precious girl, and he ignores them all, ignores what the Small Council wants, etc and goes to her after a long day, letting her ride his belly, then breeding, then cumplay, and whatever your genius mind comes up with <3

Wanna Be Yours

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x daughter!fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,944.

WARNINGS: incest, swearing, angst, breeding kink, praise kink, stomach riding, cum play, titty sucking, p in v sexual intercourse. indented parts are previous scenes.

A/N - I am so so sorry for responding so late, I took a little hiatus with tumblr and am starting to find my rhythm again. I absolutely adore this trope and your ideas. so happy you enjoyed the first piece, it was an absolute privilege to write! hope this is just what you imagined also xx

Apologies I have not reread this as I finished work and my eyes are about to shut! will proof read tomorrow ♥️

credit to my beloved BOOBIE @bnb-atnite for making this godly image of my man CHUBBY! ilysm!

"Your Grace, it is highly frowned upon by the Seven that you wed your daughter! We have given many exceptions to your ancestors for upholding their queer customs, but this- This arrangement we do not condone!"

Aegon's deep exhale as his eyes darkly snapped towards the elderly maester, was enough to silence the room with his palpable vehemence. He was beyond tired and irritated by the constant nagging of his esteemed Council, of their blatant disapproval of their King's intentions to wed his beloved... His only surviving blood, his daughter.

Throughout the war, Aegon had grown insatiably protective of you: in addition to having a special place in his heart as his eldest born, you remained the last remaining figure in his previous life, despite his mother and himself. As your grandmother silently fell into madness, in the privacy of her chambers, where she preferred to seclude herself, Aegon had no other person he soulfully cherished than you. And as he was to you, the feelings had become reciprocated. Your father loved you dearly: since becoming of age, a young, matured woman, his advances had grown more intimate and lubricious. You owed him your life, and wished nothing more than to devote yourself to him. No man could have done what he did for you...

"It is done, Maester Orwyle... I will wed my daughter in the ancient traditions of our House, if it be the last damned thing I do. I am the fucking King!" Aegon loudly asserted, slamming his pudgy hand against the solid, wooden tabletop, as his words simmered the Council into a fright.

Aegon was known for his temper, although it took a great deal for him to raise his voice: he was a stubborn man at that, also...

"My dearest, what is it? What have they done now that troubles you so, hmm?"

Aegon defeatedly relinquishes in the wooden rocking chair by the stoking fire: it’s orange-red tinged flames being the only source of light emitting in the room.

You walk up behind your father, his face stern and unmoving besides his closed eyes as his hand rubbed at his temples. Your hands find their way to his broad, thick shoulders, giving them a gentle massage as you knead the tension.

“So-So tense, my beloved. Tell me what is wrong, so that I may be of some help. Let me ease your mind, Daddy.”

Aegon’s shrugging shoulders said plentiful, as he opened his eyes once more, head turning slightly to its side so that you were in his peripheral vision.

“There is nothing to be sorted, my love. I am to wed you, and as their rightful King, it is my final word above all else. Those elderly cunts can yap all they want. I will have you.”

With his final word, a yearning flare brews between your thighs, aching for one particular thing. Your father always had a way with words, especially with you.

“Is that so?” You teasingly utter, as you straddle yourself comfortably on his lap. Your arms grip the overarching wooden frame of the chair as you swiftly lift yourself up, before plopping back down, although this time elevated by your father’s overgrown, rotund belly.

Your earliest, core memories of your father had always been admiring him at feasts and family dinners. He never denied himself a hearty meal, and his grand appetite never ceased during the war. Inevitably, as the years went by and his youth disappeared the weight remained and latched on with each mouthful. The intimate moments your attention would linger onto him, as he savoured each bite, the way he'd unashamedly lick the grease and crumbs off his chubby fingers, even off the rings that had fit him a time before... Now that he had sized up immensely, most treasures and clothes that he had worn, he had rapidly outgrown. None of his rings could go beyond the tips of his fingers, and he was in great denial about it, refusing to resize until you had convinced him otherwise. The way he had often rubbed his aching, bloated belly: swollen beneath the restricting fabric, a somewhat elevated and satisfied look strewed across his handsome, fat face as he would pat himself proudly.

"But I want Daddy all to myself. I want Daddy to fight the whole realm for me, if he has to. Can Daddy do that for me?" You utter closely into his hear, your hot breath dense against his earlobe: after hastily hiking your skirt up [wearing nothing below, as you instinctively anticipated this precise moment], you unbuttoned his top garment, only to expose his rotund, plush belly. The handful of rolls engulfing his sides, the grip-able hips that accentuated his width, streaked with raw, red stretch marks all across his love handles and lower belly. His tits were double your size, nipples sensitive under your gentle touch, even a flick of his nipple was enough to make him moan. It made you flustered, the sheer sight in evidence of your father's blatant growth... And he had no shame in admitting it.

"Of course, baby. Anything for my sweet, little princess. Daddy would burn the entire realm if he has to for you... I'll repopulate the world with my princess, if needs be."

With each of his longing words, you pressed yourself down deeper, sinking your bare cunt further against his naked belly, causing him to whimper. His pudgy hands found their way beneath your layered gown, each palm rested atop your cheeks, firmly cupping and squeezing at your flesh.

"My princess knows just what to do, to make her Daddy happy, huh? My only joy in life, is you."

Your grinding rhythmic, the pace begins to quicken with excitement, as your throbbing cunt becomes moist, the wetness stirring and oozing beneath, against the warm friction. As your cum coats his smooth fat, slowly it becomes more tolerable.

"I-I just wanna make m-my Daddy proud- D-Daddy can s-say whatever, a-and I'll do as I'm t-told-"

"Is that so?" His mimicking voice, a deep growl wretched from his throat, as his hands find their strength, shoving you deeper against his swallowing frame. He always admired how tiny you appeared in comparison to him, how fragile it made you look. He rejoiced it was a symbol of how he could protect you, that he was your shelter.

"Daddy wants to fuck Princess senseless, all night long. Fill my Princess up with my hot, hot seed until I'm certain she takes. Daddy wants Princess to swell with his child, and show her off to the realm. That the babe kicking in her belly, is all his undoing, hmm."

"A-Anything for Daddy- Just f-fuck me, Aeg-"

Although it drove Aegon wild to hear you mindlessly moan and whisper Daddy, something in particular, whenever you called him by his name, would often trigger something more insatiable in him. He could devour you in the spot, like some afternoon tea honey cake, whenever you spoke of his true name.

"Undo my pants-" Immediately without sparing a thought more, you obeyed. As Aegon's plump belly expanded over his thick, wide lap, his portly fat pad beneath had somewhat engulfed his cock. It made it difficult for him to even try to locate or masturbate himself. For now, you had both learnt tricks to overcome the obstacle, having your father lean in a certain angle, as you put in the effort to locate his fat, hard cock, plunging it deep between your walls.

As he tried to reposition himself with great difficulty, in the faint space left remaining in the seat with you atop: breathless by the end of all the moving, you managed to pluck out his cock. The sheer sight and tension beneath your gentle stroking grip, its reddened, blush tip oozing with a sheer-white, translucent reside, palpating with excitement.

"Don't keep Daddy waiting, Princess. I need to feel your walls take my cock. Make you so fucking full of me, I'll make you a human waterfall."

The raw feeling of his cock between your inner walls, clenching to adjust to its girthy, solid size: although it could no longer delve as deep as it used to, the friction of his fat pad against your clit, and the pressure of his mass against your lower stomach, made it invigorating nonetheless.

"Th-That's it, Princess. S-So tight for me. All fucking mine, and the w-whole world will know it-"

"Y-Yes, Daddy-"

"If I need to fuck you with the eyes of the Court watching, I will."

As means to muffle your moans and loud pleas for Aegon, bashfully mindful of the servants and Kingsguard stationed beyond the inches of the door outside, your mouth latched onto Aegon's porky tits.

Suckling at his tender flesh, as your tongue licked at his nipple, causing him to wince and growl in eager approval, one hand left your ass cheek, gripping close your bucking hips, and found its way snaking behind your back, before pulling at your loose hair.

Tightly tugging at the free strands, mottling between his pudgy fingers, he once more, gave gentle encouragement, shoving your face down deeper against his tubby chest.

"F-Fuck Y/N. S-So impressed by Daddy, huh, Princess? You keep going at this rate, I'll be making my own damn milk for you and the babes."

Noticing the glistening residue of your cum spilled across his rolls and paunchy stomach, his other hand cleaned the mess up over with his bare hand. Before hungrily licking off your wetness with his tongue, licking his hand clean free.

"Delicious."

With his heavy, dense weight keeping him pinned down against the chair, he made no effort to thrust himself inside as he once jovially could. Alternatively, the chair swayed with his potent motions, as he would subtly buck his ample hips forward into your frame.

"My sweet, beautiful girl is gonna cum already. I can feel you swallow my cock whole, your walls suffocating my cock. Take me, princess, take it all-"

With the finish of his words, signalling his epitome, Aegon shot his hot, fresh seed into you: warmly coating your inner walls, as your own wetness gushed over his eager, hard cock. Catching a minute to regain your breaths and thoughtless mind, you lifted yourself off, and instantly the mess began to pool across your inner thighs.

Almost on cue or from impressive instinct, Aegon began to scoop at your inner thighs, sensitive from his touch, its abrupt presence startled you.

"Did I not teach you about letting things go to waste, baby? Never let this out. This is as precious as Valyrian steel. I ought to keep you plugged up with my cock..."

The tips of his fat fingers tease at the entrance of your folds, softly tracing over your stained, painful walls: impressed with your sudden shiver and moan, his deep chuckle left you feeling reminiscent of your first time. How nervous you felt, inexperienced against your father's wit.

"I-I want this to take. I want to have as many babes as the Gods see fit with you, Aeg... I want to swell healthily with child, and give you the heir you want... As many as you desire-"

As one fo your hands remained nestled against his chest, tracing soft, random lines against the crevices of his rolls: the other travelled its way to his face, pushing aside a random strand of hair, away from his handsome, fuller face.

"I want our sons to be the spitting image of their father, and our daughter's kind like their grandmother... Will Daddy fuck me day and night, to make my wish come true, hmm?"

"Of course..."

credit for dividers - @/valeskafics

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf

Prologue

MASTERLIST

Summary: The dark hours before the end of Aegon Targaryen II

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, talks about bedding and non concensual sexual relationships, threats of mutilation, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon 

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Notes: A bit short, but I'm setting a tone here

Corlys could sense the tension in the room, everyone, at least, the survivors, were dangerously quiet, they shared concerned looks between them all.

Alicent’s mouth always seemed to be twisted in inhumane ways, but now… the edges of her mouth almost falls down of her face by her chin

“All the traitors are going to die”, said Aegon, twisting his hands, playing with the rings he had placed in his fingers… trying to hide the fact that they were burnt, the skin melted. He used now high colored shirts and vests, but the still raw, tender skin that was never going to heal, could still be seen in the side of his face, no matter he had decided to let his wild hair ungroomed, fall long framed his chubby face.

“We will be overrun”, admitted Corlys, “A Northerner army, a big one, is passing trough Harrenhal right now, they had been joined by people in the Riverlands that still are faithful to Rhaenyra’s cause, and also from the Vale in the Narrow Sea, we will be defeated, and we will burn inside this walls”, he sentenced 

“I think the Velaryon Fleet needs incentive, Lord Corlys, to face the traitors of the Vale”, two years ago, the council would have laughed to the drunken fool’s face that called himself King, but as they looked into his wild lilac eyes… no one laughed

Corlys was the only one to dare directly into his eyes

In defiance

Say it

He begged him with a silent threat in his dark eyes

Do it

Threaten me

“I think we need to send a little message…”, he continued, “I want my little nephew’s cock on a platter, and that little whore… in my chambers by the time we finish here, maybe that way, if we send them a set of sheets with my niece’s maidenhead in them, perhaps we will tell the fucking traitors what will happen to them all”

“Take the black, your grace, step down”

“I will kill them, to every last trace of my cunt of a half sister, i will take away the reason for their rebellion, they were be no other contender to the throne but me, and I will marry Cassandra Baratheon, she will give me true, strong heirs, worthy of the Iron Throne” 

“Your grace”, he said slowly. “maybe, telling them of your marriage with the princess, instead of her bloodied sheets would be more effective”, he counseled

“He is right Aegon”, said Alicent softly, “an alliance between the two branches of the family will ease them, and Cregan Stark, when knowing Rhaenyra’s blood will sit on the Iron Throne one day, he will go back North”, she said hopefully, she placed her hand on his son forearm, but he pulled it, rejecting his mother’s touch 

“Bring her to my chambers tonight”, he said to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he didn't like it, but nodded nonetheless without saying anything

“Aegon”, reasoned Alicent, “she is very delicate, and an innocent in all of this”

“Isn’t she the daughter of my whore of a sister?”, he mocked, Alicent said nothing as she played with her fingers nervously, “isn’t she what you called her a thousand times over? a bastard?”

“That doesn’t mean… we will be surrounded”

“Call in Lord Borros then, they will attack the traitors from the back, and killed them against the city walls”, he mocked

“Lord Borros is dead your grace”, said Corlys, playing with the dragon eye in front of him, he then stopped, and look up at him, he found the twisted King looking back at him with a sick smile 

“Right, sometimes I forget”, he said dismissively, he took the chalice of wine next to him and took it to his lips

5 minutes without drinking

A new record 

“the Lannisters then”, he said

“By the time the Lannister piece together the scraps left of their army, our head will be at stakes at the gates of the city”, Lord Corlys debated, Larys Strong only got quiet, looking to the left and to the right, who was next to speak, who was next to loose his temper. It was truly entertaining 

“We hold the city”, he mocked, “we will close the gates and those savages will be scratching their heads, wondering how they could breach the walls, they don’t have siege weapons

“What they have is the rest of the country’s resources, while they starved us to death”, he fought again

“Not if your armada defeats the Arryn’s, as they should”

Then finally, his crazy, deranged eyes stopped at the face of Corlys Velaryon

“I will cut your granddaughter's ear and sent it to Alyn Velaryon, to go and encourage him to fight the fucking traitors”

That was it

“That is not going to be necessary, your grace, Alyn will fight the Arryn fleet, there is no doubt in my mind, I will send word to him personally”

“there shouldn’t be no need”, he snapped, “I am the King!”, he said, pointing to his own chest, “and they are loyal to me, they will fight”, Corlys nodded 

That was it then

They shared looks with Tyland Lannister

His fate was set 

The small council meeting was done, and everyone return to their chambers, it was already the hour of the owl, the Keep was dark, very lighten up, it lost ghostly, like it had been abandoned 

Corlys walked silently to his chambers, as a maid passed by him, he gave her a small sack and nodded, she barely looked at him and walked away

It was sealed 

“Where is the princess?”, he asked the guard posted at her rooms, he shook his head, the Sea Snake barely nodded, “keep her there”, he commanded, and kept walking

He needed his wits, he was going to need every ounce of diplomacy he still held to survive the coming weeks

A pack of wolves was coming

And they were going to ravage every Green that still drew breath

There had never lived a Stark who forgot an oath

Cregan Stark had promised Rhaenyra he was going to raise an army and march south to guard her and destroy her enemies that still were raising arms

Rhaenyra was dead

And yet the wolf was coming to fulfill his promise 

. . .

“Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros”, she sang softly, grabbing tightly the small incense in her hand, “Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis”, she kept lighting up the candles, “Hen ñuhā elēnī, Perzyssy vestretis”, she wavered, looking up at the skull of Balerion, “Se gēlȳn irūdaks. Ānogrose, Perzyro udrȳssi”, she moved to the next table, lighting up the small candles one by one, it could be maddening, but she had been here every night, “Ezīmptos laehossi”, she continued, “Hārossa letagon, Aōt vāedan, Hae mērot gierūli”, she looked up at the huge skull again, hoping, praying for something, like he was going to brought the black dread back to life

“Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī”, she finished the song with a single tear falling down her cheek

“Balerion, Jaes morgho, mazēdas ñuha lentor, sir gūrogon zirȳla, nyke jorepagon syt se morghon hen dārys”

[Balerion, god of death, he took my family, now take him, I pray to you for the death of the Usurper], she whispered 

She looked down at the candles, as she played with her fingers in the small flames, she could feel nothing, her skin didn't melt, unlike her sleeve

“Morghūljagon”, she whispered, extinguishing the flames from a simple blow of her lips 

Die.

[jinjinxedsoul]

When The Sun Loved The Moon - Aegon II Targaryen.

CHAPTER 1. FIRE DREAMS

121 AC. King’s Landing.

The hurried footsteps echoed through the halls of the Red Keep; Helaena was running as fast as she could, holding the hand of little Jacaerys, who was only five years old and laughing uncontrollably.

“Hurry up!” Aemond urged her, pushing her towards one of the rooms.

“Don’t make a sound, Jace,” Helaena whispered, covering her nephew’s mouth with her hand.

Behind them was an exhausted and very out-of-breath Aegon, eight years old, with a smiling Jaella hanging on his back, urging him to keep running after her uncles and brother.

“I can’t go that fast with you on my back,” the prince scolded her, though the little girl didn’t seem to care at all. “We’ll never catch up to them.”

Jaella had developed a growing affection for her uncle; out of the three, he seemed to be her favorite, though no one knew what Aegon had done to make the girl like him so much since, in everyone’s eyes, the prince was neither charming nor, at the very least, respectful. Regardless, Jaella didn’t care at all about her uncle’s less-than-decorous behavior; the only thing that mattered was that Aegon had been the first member of her family to meet her, even before her own father.

“There!” the princess exclaimed, pointing with her chubby little hand at Helaena’s unruly, platinum hair peeking out from behind a pile of stacked dirt sacks. “There, Egg!”

“Well, it seems we haven’t found them,” Aegon said, aware of the children’s presence, not only because Jaella had spotted them but because he could hear Jacaerys’ laughter despite the others’ poor attempts to silence him. “I heard they’re making honey cakes in the kitchen, maybe if we go now, you and I can get some before dinner.”

Jaella’s eyes lit up, and so did Helaena’s, as she forgot about her hiding place and lifted her head above the sacks, but Aegon pretended not to have seen her.

“Let’s go, Ella.”

“I want some too!” Helaena exclaimed, which Aegon took as a cue to run off, with the youngest Velaryon still clinging to his back. “Aegon!”

The three children ran after the eldest, hearing his mischievous laughter in the distance.

They didn’t catch up to him.

That afternoon, Aegon and Jaella ate honey cakes to their hearts’ content.

122 AC.

Aegon wasn’t particularly fond of small children; he found them exasperating, especially when they cried. He had heard his nephew Lucerys cry more times than he would have liked, and many of those times Aegon ended up fleeing to his chambers to escape the noise. However, things were very different with Jaella, as she seemed to seek him out whenever she cried, regardless of how much Aegon tried to avoid being around her during those moments.

That afternoon, he had no choice but to endure it, especially since, after much insistence, he had agreed to take Jaella for a walk.

For Aegon, spending time with his nieces and nephews was an unusual activity, one that was particularly scrutinized by everyone in the castle. It was well-known that the queen still questioned, covertly, the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's children, and these ideas were passed on to her own children.

Aegon understood, or at least tried to, that the difference in hair color between Jacaerys and Lucerys posed a problem for the court and, in general, for the royal family. However, he wondered if it was normal for those rumors to continue spreading even after Jaella’s birth; in his eyes, and according to the ideas his mother had instilled in him, Jaella was the most deserving of them all.

Alicent, of course, didn’t like her children mingling with Rhaenyra’s, but as it was the king's demand that his offspring live peacefully together, there wasn’t much she could do about it. Aegon wondered if his mother would ever force him to distance himself from the Velaryons or use his closeness as a treacherous means to inflict harm upon them.

Aegon considered how easy it would be for him to dispose of Jaella at that moment.

The little girl was stretching as much as she could to reach one of the flowers growing by the riverbank, whining because she couldn't quite reach it. Aegon watched her with a tilted head, wondering what would happen if he gave her a little push. He wouldn’t need to do much more than wait for her lungs to give out or for the current to carry her out to the bay; if the Stranger was merciful, perhaps her body would be carried to Driftmark, where her grandparents could give her a proper funeral.

The prince stood up and took two steps toward the child. When he was close to her, Jaella looked up at him with her tear-filled violet eyes. There was something in the little Velaryon’s gaze that made Aegon’s heart tighten in his chest, a special spark that he only saw in his sister’s children, as neither he nor his siblings had it.

The idea of extinguishing that light in Jaella’s eyes gave him a shiver and made him stop abruptly. The dark impulse he had felt before faded away like a shadow in the sunlight. Jaella’s gaze, so pure and full of life, even with its childish sadness, reflected what he had lost and, somehow, reminded him of what he could still be if he clung to his humanity.

Aegon crouched down and stretched his arm far enough to reach the flower she was trying to pick, plucked it, and then handed it to her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Thank you” Jaella murmured, settling back onto the grass. Aegon’s hand dared to quickly wipe the tears from his niece’s cheeks, and she smiled at him softly. “It will look pretty.”

He nodded, looking down at the flower crown his niece was making.

“Your mother will like it.”

Jaella smiled widely. She enjoyed making the flower crowns because she knew it would be a while before the crown currently resting on her grandfather’s head would be placed on her mother’s. So, in the meantime, Jaella crowned her with these.

The thought made her wonder what would happen to her uncle once her mother sat on the Iron Throne.

“Uncle?” she spoke, drawing his attention. “When my mother gets her crown, will you have one too?”

Aegon’s insides twisted with pain. He knew a kingdom could not have two rulers, and despite his young age, he was already beginning to understand a bit more about the weight on his shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

“You will,” she said confidently. “I will make sure mom gives you a crown too.”

Aegon smiled. He wasn’t sure he wanted a crown.

126 AC.

“Be quiet,” Jaella scolded.

Jacaerys complied and fell silent while trying to peek through the heavy wooden door’s crack. Lucerys tried to peek as well, but his view was obstructed by the midwives’ skirts, leaving him with only fleeting glimpses

The twins were deeply worried about their mother’s condition. She had started experiencing labor pains in the morning, but as afternoon was approaching, the baby still hadn’t arrived. They weren’t sure how long a birth was supposed to take, but they suspected, from the worried faces of the midwives going in and out, that it was taking too long.

The heart-wrenching cries of their mother sent chills down their spines, and all they wanted was to know if she was okay.

“It’s not proper for the princes to spy.”

The voice behind them made them jump and turn around almost immediately, facing the imposing figure of the commander of the guard.

“Ser Harwin,” Jacaerys greeted. “We just want to see her.”

“You can see her once the maesters deem it appropriate.”

“But—”

“Have you chosen an egg for your brother yet?” Harwin cut off the younger Velaryon’s protests before they could even begin. “Your parents expressed their strong desire for you to do so.”

The three children looked at each other excitedly, and before they could start running, the man stopped them by holding their shoulders.

“Allow me to escort you, my princes.”

═════𖠁 ═════

The three Velaryon were kneeling in front of the clutch, observing the eggs with curiosity. Some were very colorful, but they were significantly smaller than the black one at the back.

“That one,” Jaella pointed out, receiving nods of agreement from her two brothers.

“A good choice, princess,” one of the guards said, preparing to take the egg to Princess Rhaenyra’s quarters. “Your little brother is sure to be blessed with a formidable dragon.”

Jacaerys and Lucerys followed the egg closely, making sure nothing happened to it while Jaella stayed a few steps back, still guarded by Ser Harwin.

“Is something the matter, princess?”

The commander knew that the young girl’s expression always turned nostalgic when dragons and their eggs were discussed. The egg that had been placed in Jaella’s cradle had never hatched, so she didn’t have a dragon like her brothers. Although she tried not to make much of it, it was quite noticeable to the adults around her, especially to Ser Harwin, who seemed quite close to the princess, that he wanted to have one.

“Don’t feel bad,” he encouraged her, gently stroking her silver hair. “There are still enough dragons without riders for you to claim one later, not to mention the ones that have yet to be born.”

“Do you think I could claim one?” she asked, her eyes shining brightly.

That look always managed to melt the older man; Harwin Strong would have fought anyone necessary to ensure that Jaella had a dragon, but that wouldn’t be well received and would only cause more harm.

“I’m sure you can,” he said. “The blood of Old Valyria flows through your veins.”

He regretted those words as soon as they left his lips; he knew well that Jaella’s blood was tainted because of him, and although he loved the girl with all his heart, he couldn’t help but be consumed by guilt whenever he heard her talk about how much she wished to fly on a dragon.

═════𖠁 ═════

She didn’t have anything to do at the dragon pit, but she always asked one of her brothers or uncles to intervene and let her go. That day, it was Aemond who had told the septa, responsible for Jaella’s education, that she wouldn’t be able to attend her lessons beyond midday.

The girl’s fascination with dragons was no secret, so instead of forbidding her, they decided to let her be and see them up close as much as she could.

Jaella clung to Lucerys’ hand as she curiously watched the way Jacaerys seemed to control his dragon. Vermax was still small, but no less fascinating. The girl clapped excitedly when the dragon responded to her brother’s commands and devoured the lamb in front of him.

Jacaerys looked at his twin sister, and she nodded proudly, receiving a smile in return.

“Aemond, we have a surprise for you,” Aegon said, catching the platinum-haired boy’s attention.

“What is it?”

“Something very special.”

Jaella frowned when she saw Lucerys start to run. She wasn’t aware of anything, and knowing how indifferent the children could be towards each other, she grew worried.

“You don’t have a dragon,” Aegon said, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders. “And we felt badly about it, so… we found one for you.”

Jacaerys smiled and nodded. Jaella looked at him with a frown that her older twin ignored completely. The girl’s heart pounded fiercely in her chest; she felt that something wasn’t right.

“Behold the Pink dread!”

Lucerys was pulling an enormous pig with a pair of fake wings while laughing shamelessly along with Jacaerys and Aegon.

Jaella felt a terrible heaviness overtake her; her stomach churned and her hand gripped Aemond’s arm tightly. He looked humiliated, his face had gone pale, and his lower lip trembled slightly. In contrast, Jaella had turned red and was gritting her teeth, trying to control the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

“Make sure to mount her carefully, the first flight’s always rough,” Aegon advised with a laugh, patting Aemond on the back.

Jacaerys laughed and imitated the pig’s noise, annoying Aemond. The platinum-haired boy remained still, unsure how to react or what to say, but he knew he shouldn’t cry.

The laughter didn’t last long, as Jaella’s hand struck Aegon’s face, surprising him since she had never been aggressive before, at least not with him.

“It’s not funny,” she muttered, her gaze shifting between her brother and her uncle.

Silence fell over the group like a heavy stone. Aegon put a hand to his face, still shocked by Jaella’s fury. Jacaerys stood still, his smile fading from his lips as he became aware of his sister’s genuine anger.

“We were just playing,” the older twin tried to defend himself.

“I don’t have a dragon either,” Jaella said. “Were you going to give me a pig too?”

“Jaella, you’re a girl, we wouldn’t...” Aegon’s voice trailed off under his niece’s gaze.

“Then why is it different with Aemond?” She knew they would never admit their mistake, so she had no desire to interrogate them until they apologized. “Let’s go, we don’t have to stay here.”

Jaella took Aemond by the arm and pulled him along, leading him out of the area while continuing to look disdainfully at the others.

She and the youngest of her uncles settled for a walk by the river, closely followed by Ser Criston, who was trying his best to overhear something from the conversation between the two children to report back to the queen.

“Do you think I’ll ever get a dragon?” the prince asked, making a face.

They walked with their arms intertwined, and Jaella tightened her grip on Aemond, looking at him with a big smile.

“Sure, you will,” Jaella said.

“Maybe you’ll manage to make more than one egg hatch, right?” Aemond asked, and although he tried to sound nonchalant, he couldn’t help the excitement in his words.

Jaella shook her head firmly, and Aemond frowned.

“When I dream of you with a dragon, I dream of a huge dragon... a freshly hatched one wouldn’t be that big.”

The prince didn’t know why Jaella’s words brought him so much comfort, but they did. She often spoke about the future with such confidence, as if she knew what was going to happen. Aemond was used to this, after all, his sister did the same, though in a more enigmatic way that he usually didn’t understand; however, Jaella was always straightforward, and even though she didn’t share much of what she saw in her dreams, when she did, it gave an undeniable sense of reality.

“Don’t you want a huge dragon?”

“I don’t worry about the size,” she said simply. “As long as it can carry me to fly, I’m content.”

“And what will happen when you have to go to a battle?”

Jaella wrinkled her nose, and her stomach churned. She didn’t like battles, although deep down she knew she might not be able to avoid them forever. She always preferred to stay away from such matters.

“I just want to fly on my dragon.”

═════𖠁 ═════

The girl made a grimace when her mother detached the small Joffrey from her breast; the princess’s areolas were slightly bleeding from how much the baby was eating.

“Will I also bleed like this when I have a child?” she asked in fear, causing Rhaenyra to let out a small laugh.

The heir to the throne adjusted her dress, cradling her son in her arms while signaling Jaella to come closer. She obeyed immediately, and her mother quickly took her face in her hands, gently caressing her cheek with her thumb.

“My sweet girl, my mother once told me that we have royal wombs and it is expected of us to serve the realm in that way,” Jaella’s brow furrowed immediately. “But as your future queen, I will make sure that you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to have a child,” she declared immediately. “Maybe the Mother will bless me with two children in the same pregnancy like she did with you.”

“And why do you want that?” Rhaenyra asked, looking at her daughter with devotion.

“Jacaerys and I have been together all the time, and I have never felt alone,” she reflected for a moment. “Grandfather says that you were lonely when you were a child, and Aegon also often feels lonely sometimes. If I had two children at once, maybe they would always have someone to share their lives with, just as I have Jace.”

"That is a very beautiful wish," Rhaenyra said, smiling to the side, unable to overlook the mention of her half-brother, with whom she knew Jaella had an affinity. "Has your uncle Aegon told you that? Has he said that he feels lonely?"

"I suppose court life doesn’t seem very pleasant to him," Jaella shrugged. "Maybe the queen can find him a good wife soon."

Rhaenyra felt a pang of annoyance inside her, recalling the conversation she had with her husband a few days earlier.

The rumors about the legitimacy of her children's births continued to circulate through the Red Keep, and she had asked Laenor to be more present at her side to strengthen their bond, rather than spending most of his time indulging his pleasures in Flea Bottom.

During that conversation, the topic of her children’s marriages had come up, especially the older ones, as they were already ten years old. Given the circumstances surrounding them, it was time to start seeking allies for the day when Rhaenyra would ascend to the throne.

The first suggestion was to marry her to Jacaerys, but that wouldn't guarantee any other alliances; the same would happen if she were married to Lucerys. What they needed was to unite their house with another to secure allies.

One of the solutions Ser Laenor proposed was to marry Jaella to one of Alicent Hightower’s sons.

Rhaenyra’s blood boiled at the mere thought.

To give her precious daughter to either of those two boys seemed to her a terrible idea; while it might ensure they maintained peace for a while, it was directly risking her only daughter. She knew Alicent well and knew that she would not hesitate to use Jaella in some twisted way to secure Aegon’s claim.

Giving away a daughter was too much, but obtaining one would put Alicent at a disadvantage and offer at least a few years of stability.

Rhaenyra quickly obtained her father's permission to betroth Jacaerys and Helaena, which enraged Alicent. Despite the complaints and tears she had presented to her husband, he had not yielded and had assured the entire court that his daughter and his grandson would marry.

═════𖠁 ═════

The celebration of Helaena and Jacaerys’ engagement was as grand as one could expect from House Targaryen. Three full days of revelry that delighted the noblest families of all Westeros.

“Are you happy?” Jaella asked, looking at her brother’s future wife.

Helaena looked at her with a small smile and nodded.

“The list of suitors didn’t please me,” she said simply. “But Jacaerys is kind.”

Jaella smiled proudly.

“You had a list of suitors?” Her aunt made a face and nodded again. “Who were they?”

“I don’t know their names,” she said, shrugging. “But they were all old and stinky… and Aegon.”

Jaella’s eyes widened with curiosity at hearing her uncle’s name as a potential candidate for Helaena’s hand.

“You didn’t want to marry Aegon?”

Helaena looked at her as if she had just uttered the worst blasphemy and shook her head again, this time with much more vigor.

“He’s rude and always drinking,” she said, glancing over at the other side of the hall where her brother was drinking cup after cup.

Jaella looked at him with curiosity. While it was true that Aegon’s passion for alcohol was excessive, she didn’t think he was as bad as everyone made him out to be. It wasn’t that she doubted Helaena’s judgment, but Aegon had always been calmer around her, and even though Jaella knew his behavior wasn’t exactly the best, she wondered how a person could be so different with different people.

“Would you marry him?”

She thought about it a little while watching him. Aegon looked over from a distance and raised his cup, giving her a radiant smile.

“Yes.”

═════𖠁 ═════

It was during the last day of the celebration that Jaella grew tired of all the commotion and left the hall earlier than usual, wandering through the gardens to enjoy the tranquility of the night before heading to her room.

Her attention was so scattered that she didn’t notice she was not alone until her body collided with someone else’s.

“I apologize, Princess,” the stranger said.

Jaella blinked a few times. The boy in front of her was clearly older but still looked quite young. His hair was curly, dark, and slightly long, and the wolf-shaped brooches holding his cloak indicated he was a member of House Stark, but she didn’t seem to recognize him.

“I don’t believe I know your name, my lord…”

“Decran Stark, Your Highness,” the boy said, bowing his head, and Jaella smiled.

“Lord Decran, there’s no need to apologize.”

“Had I known you would be alone in the garden, I would not have come, as I wouldn’t want your reputation to be questioned.”

“I appreciate the concern, my lord,” she said with a smile, “but rest assured that won’t happen. Ser Erryk or Ser Harwin must be nearby, and neither my grandfather nor my mother would allow such accusations to be made.”

That was true; no matter how much space the princess was given, a guard was always watching her steps. Usually, it was Ser Harwin, and Jaella was completely sure he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“That reassures me, Princess.”

“Why don’t you walk with me, Lord Decran?”

“It would be an honor.”

The walk lasted long enough for Jaella to learn some basic things about the Northerner and for him to make her laugh several times. Decran Stark was only fifteen years old but behaved like a true gentleman.

Jaella thought about the list of suitors Helaena had mentioned on the day of her engagement party with Jacaerys. She wasn’t sure if her mother had one for her, but she could definitely see the young wolf as someone worthy of being on it.

“Have you been to Winterfell?” Decran asked. Jaella smiled and shook her head.

“I’m sure you would like it.”

The girl played with the bracelet on her wrist, as she always did when she felt slightly nervous. The constant fiddling caused it to come undone and fall to the ground. Decran quickly picked it up.

“If you allow me…” he gestured, asking for permission to put the bracelet back on.

Jaella nodded and extended her hand, smiling.

“Keep your hands off my niece.”

Aegon’s voice made them both jump slightly, especially Jaella, who quickly took the bracelet from Decran’s hands as he took a couple of steps back.

The prince appeared drunk, though less so than on the previous two nights. Behind him was Ser Criston, who seemed to judge Jaella with a look, even though she didn’t understand the evident disdain that Cole had for her family.

“My apologies, my prince,” Decran didn’t seem intimidated by the young man’s presence, much less because he knew of the internal conflicts within House Targaryen and because Aegon was nothing more than a usurper of Rhaenyra’s inheritance in the eyes of the Starks.

“I’m not interested in your apologies,” Aegon said simply, taking a few steps away from Jaella. “I know that in the North they are short of manners, but here you cannot be alone with the princess.”

“Lord Decran has done nothing improper,” Jaella spoke quickly, but Aegon seemed to ignore her completely.

“Do you know, Lord Stark, that if anyone were to see you alone with the princess at this hour, strong accusations would be made against her?” Aegon continued in a disdainful tone, not removing his gaze from the Northerner. He then looked around before turning his gaze back to him. “Since I am the only man close to Princess Velaryon here, it is my duty to ensure that this mistake is punished.”

“Aegon…” Jaella’s voice came out as a trembling whisper.

The prince, clearly affected by the alcohol and his own sense of superiority, didn’t heed her plea. Instead, his gaze became harsher and more determined.

“Ser Criston, bring me the head of Decran Stark for putting my niece’s reputation at risk.”

Criston’s expression hardened. Under different circumstances, he might have stopped to think, but with few witnesses present, he could convince Prince Aegon to distort the truth about the situation and turn it to his favor, earning House Stark’s support for the queen’s children.

Decran gripped the hilt of his short sword, which protruded from his waist, ready to defend himself by any means necessary.

Jaella stepped forward, her heart racing uncontrollably.

“No!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with an unexpected firmness. “This is not necessary. Lord Decran has been respectful at all times and has done nothing to jeopardize my honor. There is no reason for this violence.”

The princess could have positioned herself between Ser Criston and Decran, but she knew Cole would not react to her pleas. Instead, she stood in front of Aegon and looked him in the eyes, gripping his hands firmly, which surprised the prince.

“Uncle, please,” she begged with tearful eyes, breathing heavily. She was not willing to allow someone who had not harmed her to be punished severely. “Please, do not punish someone who does not deserve it.”

Aegon’s gaze focused on Jaella’s distressed face. His chest stirred with discomfort, and he grimaced as he felt the burning grip of the young girl’s hands. Still, he did not pull away.

“Jaella, I…” Aegon began, his voice wavering as the grimace on his face deepened. He was not used to being confronted in this manner, especially by someone he considered weaker and more vulnerable. The anguish in his niece’s eyes was making him question his own harshness.

“Please,” she pleaded again, stroking the back of the young Targaryen’s hand with her thumb.

Finally, Aegon let out a deep sigh. His resistance crumbled in the face of Jaella’s genuine desperation. He stepped back slightly, looking at Decran with a sneer of disdain.

“Escort Lord Decran inside, Ser Criston,” he said, his voice laden with anger. “I will see that my niece gets to her room.”

═════𖠁 ═════

Honor didn't seem to matter as much now, as when Jaella had invited him to her room for lemon cakes, Aegon had not hesitated for a second to accept, even agreeing to Ser Erryk’s request to leave the door open.

The rest of the night passed peacefully, and the topic of Decran was not mentioned until an hour later, when the children had finished all the cakes.

“Are you sure he did nothing?” Aegon asked, raising an eyebrow. Jaella nodded, which slightly reassured him.

“Is my sister already looking for a suitor for you?”

“I don’t know. Though Jacaerys is already promised, so they will probably arrange something for me soon too.”

Aegon made a displeased grimace that went unnoticed by Jaella.

“Are you going to tell your mother you want to marry Decran?”

Jaella frowned. She barely knew the northerner, and while she considered he would make a good suitor, the idea of asking her mother to marry him had not crossed her mind.

“I don’t know who I want to marry,” she said, shrugging.

“You definitely shouldn’t marry a Stark,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong with the Starks?” she asked with genuine curiosity. According to her studies, House Stark was quite honorable.

“I just think you should marry someone of your own blood to keep it strong,” he said simply.

In Aegon’s eyes, it had been a blessing that she wasn’t married to Jacaerys. It would have been a shame for Jaella’s children to be deprived of their mother’s Valyrian traits and instead inherit the common features of his nephew. Aegon was certain that Jaella would bear beautiful children, like herself, and he saw no need to overshadow them.

“You could marry Aemond or Daeron,” Aegon suggested.

“Why don’t I marry you?”

Silence filled Jaella’s quarters. Aegon felt a pressure in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain.

He knew his mother wouldn’t allow it; she hated Rhaenyra’s children too much, and she had only given them Helaena reluctantly. Alicent would never easily give up Aegon.

“I don’t think that idea would make anyone happy,” he said with a bitter smile. “Not even you.”

“I like being with you,” Jaella said, shrugging as if her statement was a simple truth.

No one had ever said that to him before. He was so capricious and rude that most people fled from him without a second thought. He even doubted his own mother enjoyed his company. But Jaella seemed sincere; despite his bad behavior and the reputation that preceded him, the Velaryon girl didn’t seem to change her behavior towards him, even for a moment.

Jaella, in her innocence, didn’t fully grasp the internal struggle Aegon was experiencing. To her, things were simple. She enjoyed his company and saw no need to complicate things with the intrigues and enmities that seemed to surround their families.

At that moment, Aegon wished he could marry her.

═════𖠁 ═════

His mother entered his room without warning, as she commonly did. From the way her brow was furrowed, Aegon knew she was upset. Even before she could speak, his head started to throb; the night before, after leaving Jaella's room, he had gone out to drink a little more and then retreated to his own room for some pleasure, so he wasn’t in the best condition to receive a reprimand.

“Sir Criston informed me of the little dispute last night.”

Aegon pressed his lips into a thin line. Criston Cole’s extreme diligence in reporting caused him more headaches than he liked. The prince tried to sit up, but the sharp pain in his head made him relent, and he sank back into his pillows.

“Do you have anything to say about it?”

The silver-haired prince sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“I didn’t think it was right for that Northman to be alone with Jaella.”

Alicent squinted at Aegon’s response. The evident concern in his voice only increased his mother’s irritation.

“And why not?” she demanded; her tone harsh. “I’ve told you time and again that the further away we keep Rhaenyra’s bastards, the better. We already have enough with your father deciding to marry Helaena to Jacaerys and now you want to stop that girl from forming distant alliances? Your claim to the throne is at stake, Aegon, and so is your head.”

“Why not save it and betroth me to Jaella?”

Alicent's fury ignited in an instant. Her face twisted into a horrified expression, and her open hand struck her son's face, leaving it red. Aegon gently touched his cheek, feeling the sting in his eyes, but he kept his gaze fixed on his mother, refusing to give in to the pain or the shame threatening to consume him.

"Never repeat those words!" Alicent exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger. "How dare you even suggest such a thing? Our family has suffered enough! Do you want to destroy everything we've built?"

Aegon didn't care about any of that. No one had ever asked him if he wanted to be king, and his father didn't seem too pleased with the idea either—after thirteen years, he still hadn't named him heir. Not that it mattered to Aegon; he didn't believe he was fit to rule.

He couldn't even control what was between his legs—how was he expected to control the Seven Kingdoms?

The thought made him laugh, which only enraged the queen further.

Alicent grabbed his face firmly.

"You don't understand what you're saying. You don't understand the weight of what you're asking. Every word you utter has consequences. You can't just discard your responsibilities because you don't like them."

Finally, she let go and ran her hands over her face, trying to calm herself. She knew well that Rhaenyra would be capable of eliminating every obstacle in her path to the throne. She'd already dealt with Helaena through marriage, but with Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, she wouldn't be so merciful. She wouldn't rest until she saw the heads of her three brothers on pikes.

"You are our future king, Aegon. It's time you start acting like one."

═════𖠁 ═════

When Ser Harwin assured her that she could claim a dragon, the idea took root in her mind, and she resolved to do whatever it took to make it happen. Her first plan was to tame one of the riderless dragons, but her mother had said it was too risky. So, Jaella spent her afternoons by the castle's hearths, trying to give her egg enough warmth to finally hatch.

When that didn't work, she buried herself in the castle's library, searching for a solution to her problem. It didn’t take long before she found what she was looking for. The books mentioned that dragon fire could help eggs hatch more quickly.

That early morning, Jaella leaped out of bed while everyone was still asleep. She used the secret passages she had once discovered to sneak into Aegon’s room.

The prince was sprawled out on the bed, deeply asleep, his breathing steady, and his mouth slightly open. Jaella stifled a silent giggle at the sight, then stood by the bed and began shaking Aegon until he woke up, groggy and trying to focus his bleary eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need your help."

Aegon blinked rapidly upon hearing those words.

"Are you alright?" he asked immediately. She nodded. "What is it?"

"I need Sunfyre’s fire to hatch my egg."

Aegon’s brow furrowed, and the remnants of sleep quickly vanished as Jaella explained what she had read that afternoon. The prince didn’t quite understand her obsession with the egg, but he eventually sighed and got out of bed.

While Aegon dressed, Jaella started searching the walls of his room. The prince watched her curiously but didn't question her. Soon enough, Jaella found and opened a hidden door, leaving Aegon in awe.

"Has that always been there?" Jaella nodded. "And you knew about it?" Another nod was her only response.

"Now let’s go before anyone realizes I’m not in bed."

They used the secret passages to leave the Red Keep, despite Aegon’s reluctance to enter the unfamiliar hidden paths. Jaella linked her arm with his as they walked through the streets of the city. Aegon, well-versed in the ways of Flea Bottom, used his knowledge to ensure they avoided the worst of the alleys.

Entering the Dragonpit posed little challenge for them, as they had done it several times before. Sunfyre, Aegon’s golden dragon, was peacefully asleep in his usual spot.

Jaella smiled at the sight of him, and Aegon also appeared proud of Sunfyre. The dragon awoke and made a sound akin to a purr when his rider called to him softly; he nudged his snout against the prince’s chest, making Aegon smile.

Jaella smiled too, because she liked seeing Aegon smile. When he did so sincerely, his smile was radiant.

"Give it to me," Aegon said, pointing to the egg in Jaella’s arms.

Without hesitation, she handed it to him immediately, and the prince placed it on the ground at a safe distance from Sunfyre, who eyed the egg with growing curiosity. Aegon took Jaella by the arm and gently pulled her back, distancing them from the reach of the fire and positioning himself in front.

Jaella clung to his arm and peeked from behind him, waiting for the command.

"Dracarys."

Sunfyre opened his mouth and breathed a warm blast of fire over the egg. Jaella held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the flames envelop the egg.

After what felt like an eternity, the fire ceased, and the two children cautiously approached the egg. Jaella's eyes scanned every inch of it, nervously searching for any sign of a crack, no matter how small. As the minutes passed, there was no indication that it had worked.

A knot formed in Jaella's throat as she felt tears welling up in her eyes, irritating her.

"Maybe it just needs more time," Aegon tried to console her, though there was a hint of doubt in his voice.

Jaella wiped her eyes, brushing away the tears that had already begun to spill down her cheeks.

"It was supposed to happen immediately," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It didn't work."

Perhaps she wasn't meant to have a dragon, perhaps her blood was tainted as everyone said, and that's why her egg hadn't hatched. Maybe her mother had lied to her all this time, and Laenor wasn't her father. Jaella clenched her fists.

She knew Laenor wasn't her father.

Fury surged within her, anger at the world; at her mother, at her supposed father, at Ser Harwin, at herself for believing she would have a dragon...

Aegon could see her suffering, but he didn’t know what to say. No one had ever taught him how to comfort someone, to offer words of encouragement, and although Jaella knew this and wasn’t expecting it, he still wanted to make her feel even a little better.

He couldn't find the words, because he didn’t know how to comfort her. But he stayed close by as she turned and left the Dragonpit, retracing their steps back the way they had come.

The princess didn’t speak the entire way back, and neither did Aegon.

By the time they made it back to the Red Keep through the secret passages, the sky was already beginning to lighten, signaling that the sun would soon break through the clouds. They both sat down on one of the castle's balconies for a moment; Jaella settled there first, and Aegon decided to stay with her.

Throughout their journey, Aegon had been trying to think of a way to console her, and though he had an idea, he wasn’t entirely sure how to start.

"Do you remember when you asked why we couldn’t get married?" Aegon’s voice broke the silence of the early morning. Hearing him speak after such a long time felt strange, but even so, she turned to look at him and nodded. "Mother didn’t like the idea."

Jaella didn’t understand what that had to do with the recent situation.

"But if she ever decides it’s a good idea… I’ll give you a dragon egg as a wedding gift."

The younger girl was taken aback, not only because Aegon was offering her a dragon egg, but also because he was speaking about the possibility of marrying her. She knew it wasn’t very likely, but the fact that he was considering it caused a strange, pleasant sensation in her chest.

"And if we don’t get married?" she asked curiously.

"I’ll give you one anyway."

From that night on, Jaella began to consider the idea of marrying Aegon as one of her dreams.

[fairysluna]

Hello, I just stumbled into your old account and read and LOVED one of your Aegon fanfics (What Should've Been) and I have a teeny tiny request, if you don't mind. It seems the reader had tuberculosis from the symptoms, especially the bloody coughs, and since Aegon was thoroughly exposed to it, I was wondering if you can maybe make a teeny tiny follow-up about how he also contracts the disease and dies and later joins the reader in the afterlife under the same weirwood tree where she's waiting for him in her wedding gown and Aegon goes to her and tucks a purple pansy in her ear and they walk off into the light, together at last.

Please, I'm terribly heartbroken (and depressed but that's just my usual depression) over this beautiful story and I'd love a follow-up, even if it's just bullet points of what happens 🥺🥺

Author's Note: Hi hun!! I love the fact that you love my story enough to come here and ask me to write more, I will always love to make a follow up of my fics... so this is entirely dedicated to you, love!! thank you for enjoying my writing (and srry for breaking your heart). These are bullet points btw and it is quite short, but i hope you like it!!🤍

WHAT SHOULD'VE BEEN — Aegon's Grief.

Summary: The aftermath of the biggest loss in Aegon's life: you. An epilogue for this story.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Arryn!Reader

Tags/TW: angst, grief, death, mentions of depression, sickness, sensitive content. If something is missing pls let me know.

Aegon didn’t leave his bed for days. The grief and sorrow in his heart was too much for him to bear. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t bathe, he wouldn’t even stand from his bed… the bed he used to share with you.

It was hard for him to go inside the room, the weeks before your funeral he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the door of it. Needless to say, he didn’t even step inside of it until the funeral was over. The sheets were still there, the shape of your body was still seen on the bed. He did not allow the maids to clean up the room; he could smell the scent of death that was left behind, but once he went closer to the bed he was able to smell your perfume… and that was enough for him to bury his face against the pillows as he sobbed and whined.

Alicent tried to go and persuade him to go back to his duties. He had become a King, but what kind of King he was if he didn't have his Queen by his side? What purpose was left for him when the most important person in the world was now gone? The forces of your love had left him without warming, the warmth of your love no longer covered his body in the shape of an affectionate kiss. He felt useless without you, for you were the only thing that brought meaning into his life.

Aemond would start to cover him up in the Small Council meetings and other duties. Aegon was in no condition to fulfill his activities, because not only his spirit was broken but his health was deteriorating with each passing day. The health of their King was starting to cause rumors around the halls, servants claimed that he went mad out of his own grief.

His chubby shape soon became a skeletal one. His rosy cheeks were now pale and bony, his cheekbones being too noticeable now. Alicent would go at night trying to make him eat something, but Aegon had lost his will to live the day he lost you. And eventually, the Gods were merciful enough… and they made him sick too.

Alicent knew what was coming, she had witnessed the same symptoms in you a few weeks ago before you took your last breath. She cried herself to sleep many nights as the Maester would only inform her that her son was slowly dying, with no signs of improvement at all. And then, the hallucinations started as Aegon was being slowly killed by the fever.

His already weakened body could not handle that sickness that came upon him. The lack of food, of sleep, along with his lack of will to live were enough to get him seriously ill, to the point when he started to speak to the maids thinking they were you.

"Oh, my sweet wife," he would say with a thin voice, barely audible. Most of his wording would be interpreted as mumbling and nonsense, "can't wait to see our beautiful child growing inside of you."

A few days later… Aegon passed away in the same bed that he used to share with you, grasping the same sheets that covered your body during your last days, and in the same bed where he held you close every night. And even though that was the day his body died, his soul had left him the same day you left him.

Alicent cried for days after the news, but she wasn't surprised at all. No one was. The love Aegon had for you was too obvious for everyone.

"Not even death could pull them apart," Aemond would say as he consoled his mother during the funeral, where Sunfyre was the one lighting the fire that ended up consuming his skeletal body.

Aegon thought he was dreaming when he found himself standing in the gardens, wearing a black suit but feeling light, the anguish that had haunted him for the past weeks was no longer there.

And then, he heard your laugh.

A small giggle that made him feel as if his heart was beating again. A sound so soft and gentle, delicate and blissful, that it brought a rose color upon his cheeks, which returned to be as chubby as they were before.

At first, he was afraid of turning around, thinking that it was a delusion, some trick of his mind making him hear things. But then, he heard it again, and the urge to look at your beautiful face once again was stronger than any fear that might succumb him. He needed to see you… and he did.

There you were, as beautiful as you have always been, wearing a tighter and less pompous version of your wedding gown. Your hair was falling down your shoulders in cascades, your eyes gleaming with pure happiness as you laughed at the pages you were reading. Aegon was enchanted, mesmerized by the angelic sound your laughter would produce.

He walked slowly towards you, as if he was scared you would become a pile of dust and fade into the wind, but you never did. Instead, you looked up at him and your eyes shined so bright that Aegon was sure he saw stars in them. You were so gorgeous, far from being the sick woman he saw before you passed. You were your old self, the woman who would make him laugh and make him fall in love all over again every single day.

"You came," you said with a radiant smile.

"You know I've never done well without you, my love," he replied.

You saw him picking up a flower from the greenest grass he's ever seen; a purple pansy soon was on your hair, and Aegon's heart felt alive once he felt your lips against the softness of his flushed cheeks. A gesture that he had terribly missed.

Aegon cupped your face between his hands, and looked down to you with admiration and pure devotion. Your eyes were full of life once again; a sight that Aegon wished to never forget again. Before you could say anything to him, he kissed you, and your lips felt warm and soft as they always were. Your touch made him feel like a teenage boy, the same boy that fell in love with you many years ago.

He realized then that he finally found heaven, that all his wishes and pleas were listened to by the Gods by sending him back to you; back to where he belonged.

Aegon saw your eyes once again, and right there he realized that the Gods were finally merciful, because now he got to spend the rest of his life by your side without having the constant fear of losing you again.

He finally found peace, because you were there with him.

[sena-seastar]

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Five

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

a/n: This chapter takes place before episode eight. There will be a few small time skips in this chapter. Dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. Though, there may be some high valyrian thrown in here and there. No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, if anyone wishes to be tagged in future updates, just let me know!

Aerys

Aerys stared down at the two babies in the cradle, swaddled in white wool blankets. Aegon and Helaena had welcomed the twins a fortnight ago. The king and queen could not have been more pleased. The twins were named Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, both named after the conciliator. No doubt it was the king’s hand's idea to name them after the most beloved Targaryen king. Aerys had quickly become well acquainted enough with Ser Otto to know there seemed to be no limits to the man’s ambitions. Surely, this was just some scheme to prove that his grandson was more fit to be the king’s heir. Aerys was fond of Aegon, but the prince lacked the patience for such a strenuous task. 

Aerys continued watching over the newest additions to the family. There have been so many babies coming into the family lately. His sister-in-law had given birth not too long ago as well. To a healthy son. Aerys had yet to make the trip to Castamere, but he hoped he could soon. He hadn’t returned to the seat of his father’s house since he left all those years ago. Aerys wondered if the boy had inherited the typical reddish-gold hair and blue eyes of the Reynes. The raven his brother had sent only provided the name and gender of the child but not much else.

Rhaenyra had also given birth to another son���Prince Daemon's first son, Aegon, dubbed by many as Aegon the Younger. Aerys had been quite amused when he was told the child’s name. Many at court whispered that it was a slight against Queen Alicent’s eldest son, Aegon. Perhaps it was. Prince Daemon’s hostility towards the Queen and her father was well known. Aegon himself couldn’t care less about it. When Aerys had brought it up, Aegon merely shrugged and changed the conversation to something else.

Jaehaera was such a tiny little thing. Long white eyelashes sat on her plump cheeks, and wisps of white hair sat on her head. She reminded him of a little doll. Jaehaerys was larger and more robust. Unlike his sister, he had yet to grow hair. His chubby little hands were clenched into fists. The extra finger on his left hand twitched. Aerys had heard whispers of the boy's deformity. He shook his head, so the child had an extra finger and a couple of extra toes. Why did it matter? How cruel this world must be to judge such an innocent child so harshly for something they had no control over.

Jaehaera’s body jolted, her eyes fluttering open. However, the girl made no sound. Aerys moved to her side of the cradle. The child began wriggling, trying to escape the confines of the wool blanket. Aerys unswaddled her, allowing the girl to stretch out her limbs. Her pale lilac eyes explored the room, but she still made no sound. His index finger gently tapped her stomach to get her attention. Finally, her eyes landed on Aerys’ face. 

Carefully, he lifted the girl into his hands. She was so light that he believed he had held pillows heavier than her. It was almost frightening. He had never held a baby this small before. The baby started to whine, but she calmed down once he gently bounced her in his arms. 

“Hello, Jaehaera. Aren’t you a pretty one? You must get that from your mother.” Aerys cooed softly, hoping to garner a smile from the baby. She blinked, unimpressed by his attempt.

“Sorry, little one. Humor has never been my strong suit, I’m afraid.”

The girl began gurgling quietly. She moved a hand to her mouth and started chewing on her fingers. Aerys let out the deep, weary sigh he had been holding in. His grandsire had been putting more pressure on him to consider marriage since Aegon had wed Helaena. Aerys had no desire to marry. Aegon had only been married for two months before Helaena became pregnant. Aerys did not wish for that type of responsibility. Yet, as he held little Jaehaera in his arms, he couldn’t help but think... Perhaps it would not be so bad.

“Have you seen them? My flawed whelps.” A voice slurred from behind.

Aerys turned his head to find Aegon slumped against the door.

“What are you talking about?”

“They whisper about them. How imperfect they are.”

“Dragons do not care for the whispers of men. They are Targaryens; that is all that matters.”

Aerys watched as Aegon stumbled over to a chair. He sighed, placing the little girl back into the cradle. The boy moved to Aegon's side, helping him sit down comfortably. The prince reeked of wine, his eyes drooped low, and his cheeks were flushed. No doubt he had been drowning in his cups for hours. He seemed to do that a lot these days, even more than usual. Aerys kneeled to the floor, pulling off the prince's boots. The boy quietly placed them to the side. Aerys’ fingers deftly untied the strings of his cloak.

“You’ve been at it for hours; it’s time for you to rest,” Aerys said, pulling the cloak off his body.

His fingers tucked the cloak around Aegon as he had done many times before. The prince struggled against the cloak, pulling his arms out from under it. Aerys sighed, tucking the cloak around the prince's legs. He ignored Aegon’s fingers twirling his hair. Aerys pulled back, sitting on his knees. He grabbed Aegon's hands from his hair, setting them on the prince’s lap. The prince interlaced their fingers. Aerys gulped, staring down at their intertwined hands. His eyes flickered up to Aegon. Aegon stared back at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“I wish you were a girl,” he whispered.

Aerys stilled, his body stiffening under the prince’s touch. Aegon smiles down at him, and suddenly, Aerys is fighting the urge to pull him into his arms. One of his hands moved to push the white strand of hair away from Aegon's face. He keeps his hand up, resting against the prince's cheek. His eyes roamed over every inch of Aegon’s face. Aegon’s smile fades, replaced with a childish curiosity. Aerys watched as that curiosity turned to realization. The prince leans his face into the warmth of Aerys’ palm. Sorrowful eyes mirroring his own. They must be cursed. It was the only explanation Aerys could come up with for why they were plagued with this irremediable longing in their hearts.

Aerys pulled away, pushing himself to his feet.

“Get some sleep, Aegon,” he smiled sadly, his lips trembling.

He did not await a response before turning to leave the room. Quickly and quietly, slipping out the door. Aerys walked down the dark, quiet hallway. His mind is running rampant. How foolish he was to think they could ever return to the way they were before.

—

Aerys stared up at the giant skull of Balerion, the black dread. The cold, dark room was deserted, as it always was. The only one who had come down here regularly was the King. But with his sickness worsening, it was harder for him to visit. The boy walked forward, placing a hand on one of the dragon's giant teeth. This dragon was one of the last to see Valyria before the doom. He was born there. How difficult it must have been to abandon his home, not understanding that he would never be able to return. Perhaps that is why he took Princess Aerea there. He just wanted to go home.

The bone was cold to the touch. He walked over to remove one of the torches from the wall. Aerys returned to the dragon, holding the torch close to the skull. Dragons were made of fire. No doubt he missed the warmth. Aerys could feel eyes on him, and it made him wonder. Was Balerion still somehow trapped here? Where do the dragons go when their fire burns out? The realm liked to whisper about the ghosts that plagued Harrenhall. Did the red keep hold ghosts of its own? There has certainly been no shortage of pain and bloodshed within these walls.

“So you’ve found yourself a new hideout?”

“Who says I’m hiding?” Aerys countered, turning his back on the dragon’s skull.

Aegon stood behind him, swirling whatever was in his goblet. Aerys was willing to bet it was a sweet arbor red. That had always been the prince’s favorite. 

“You left the feast early,” Aegon scowled.

“I congratulated you and Helaena on the children and provided gifts. I did not realize I was required to stay the entire night.” Aerys answered with a shrug.

“Did I do something?” Aegon asked.

“No,” Aerys shook his head.

“You’ve been avoiding me again-”

“I have not been avoiding you.” Aerys scoffed.

“Really? You haven’t talked to me in days.”

“I haven’t...” Aerys dropped his head, nervously kicking at the dirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just... I want to know what I did to offend you.”

“Nothing!” Aerys snapped, cringing at how loud he was. “I mean, you did nothing wrong, Aegon.”

“So then, what is it?” Aegon asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“It’s just... me.” Aerys frowned, tears welling up in his eyes.

Aegon cupped the boy’s face in his hands. “Look at me, Aerys.”

Aerys bit his lip, keeping his eyes low.

“Please look at me,” he pleaded.

Almost immediately, Aerys found himself relenting.  Aerys tilted his head upwards to look upon the prince's face. He stiffened as Aegon ran his thumb over his bottom lip. The boy could feel his heart race as those violet eyes shifted between his eyes and lips. The prince's face seemed almost blank, free from all emotion. Aerys could not tell what he was thinking or feeling until their eyes met again. The look was all too familiar to him. The tenderness, the warmth, the longing... it was the same look he had seen Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin share time and time again. 

“ Gevi͡e,” he whispered, brushing his thumb against Aerys lips.   

Aerys found himself feeling perplexed by the prince's actions. Was he toying with him?

“I should go...” Aerys whispered.

“That would be wise,” Aegon replied, but neither of them moved. 

His right hand slipped around Aerys’ waist and pulled him flush against his chest. Their eyes never left each other, and a small smile tugged at Aegon’s lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Aerys muttered, but Aegon caught it. 

Aegon always hung onto his every word. When Aerys spoke, he listened. He didn’t simply nod and hum like everyone else; he listened. That was something Aerys greatly appreciated about him. 

“No, we shouldn’t...” Aegon leaned down close and gently pressed their lips together. 

Their fingers desperately dug into each other’s clothed skin, wanting to be as close as possible. 

Aegon slid his hands off Aerys’ waist. The prince pulled away with a slight shiver, slightly leaning in as if he wanted to kiss him again, but he did not. Instead, he trailed his knuckles along the boy's jaw and down to his chin. The prince’s touch sent a shiver down Aerys' spine, and almost immediately, the realization of what they had just done settled in.

“I have to go,” Aerys exclaimed as he brushed past the prince, not daring to look back at him as he hurried away.

—

Aerys stood outside the large wooden doors of the king’s solar. He fiddled with his ring as Ser Harrold informed the king of his presence. Ser Criston remained at his post, waiting for the king to allow the boy entry. No, he was a man now. Aerys was now six and ten years of age; his name day passed just two days ago. There was no grand celebration, as he did not desire one. The king, however, insisted on hosting a supper with all his family that remained in King's Landing. It had been a rather emotional affair for Aerys. It was the first birthday he had spent without Rhaenyra and the boys. But he managed to keep his emotions at bay until he was alone.

“You may enter, Lord Reyne.” The commander said, holding the door open.

Aerys nodded his head, quickly slipping into the room. The white knight closed the door behind him. The room was cold. Aerys first became aware of the queen’s presence. The woman stood at the fireplace, most likely to keep warm. The king also sat in a chair near the fireplace, staring into the flames. It was the Queen who noticed him first. 

“Your grace,” Aerys bowed.

“Aerys, come my boy.” The king greeted warmly, looking away from the fire.

Aerys could see the sadness in his eyes as he approached him. It was no secret how much the king loved his eldest child. He most likely missed Rhaenyra more than Aerys did. 

“Sit, sit,” the king insisted, pointing at the chair next to his.

Aerys looked to the queen before hesitantly taking a seat.

“Ser Harrold said you requested an audience with me immediately. Has something happened?”

“Yes- I mean no, nothing has happened. I would like your permission to take my leave.”

The king pulled his head back, his brows furrowed. “Take your leave? What do you mean?”

Aerys' eyes moved to the queen before quickly dropping to the ground. He had not expected the woman to be here. She unnerved him. Sometimes, when she looked at you, it felt like she knew all your secrets. Like there was nothing you could hide from her.

“Alicent, leave us.” The king commanded.

Aerys raised his head, his eyes glancing between the two. Alicent looked at her husband, her eyes slightly widened. She fiddled with her fingers as she walked closer, attempting to attend to the man.

“You’re not feeling well, I should be at your side-”

“I wish to speak with my grandson alone,” he raised his hand, dismissing her.

The queen straightened her back, standing tall. “As you wish, my king.”

The king waited until the door closed behind her to speak.

“If someone has done or said something to make you feel unwelcome at my court-”

“It’s nothing like that, grandfather,” Aerys cut in.

“Then what is it, child?”

The king reached his hand out for Aerys to take. Aerys stared at it. His heart began racing in his chest, his eyes pooling with tears. Aerys slumped to the floor, sitting on his knees. He pressed his forehead against the king’s knuckles. Quiet sobs filled the room as the young man could no longer hold back his tears.

“My boy, what is wrong?!” The king asked, alarmed by the young man’s outburst.

Aerys found himself unable to speak. He did not trust himself enough to speak, afraid he might say too much. The king heaved a weary sigh and moved his hand to caress the young man’s head.

“I think I understand what this is about,” the man said, breathing deeply through his nose.

Aerys felt his body freeze in terror. A chill ran down his spine, making the hair on his body rise. Did he know about him and Aegon? The king moved his hand under the boy’s chin, raising his head. He closed his eyes, silently waiting for the king's anger to surface. 

“This is about Rhaenyra, is it not?”

“What?” The young man asked, puzzled by the man’s words.

His eyes opened, and he tilted his head in confusion. The king smiled sadly, his hand still holding the young man’s face.

“I miss her too. She had wished to take you with her, but I refused. Out of selfishness... Out of fear that I was losing all of my grandchildren at once. You are the last piece of your mother I have left. My sweet little Naerys... Sometimes, when I look at you, all I see is her. But now I see how much pain my selfishness has caused you.”

“Grandfather-”

“I permit you to go. Just... try not to forget about this old man.”

“I won’t,” Aerys replied, trying to muster a smile.

The king waved his hand, motioning for a hug. Aerys stood to his feet, carefully maneuvering his arms not to hurt the older man. The hour was growing late. Aerys wanted to leave as soon as possible.

—

The stone was cold against Aerys' back. The sound of crunching bones filled the air as Agana continued tearing into what little remained of the giant pig. He sat with his back against one of the walls of her enclosure, watching as she scarfed down the last piece of the roasted animal. His index finger trailed expertly along his mother’s enameled face, as it had done many times before. The ring seemed to be fitting a bit loosely now. Has he lost weight? If he did, the boy did not notice it. 

Aerys laughed as Agana nuzzled her head into his chest. She was attempting to rest her head in his lap, as she had done when she was still young. It seemed they were both unaware of the fleeting years of their youth. Growling in annoyance, the dragon settled to rest her head beside his body. Aerys moved his hand to feel the warmth of her scales.

“It seems like you and I are adults now.”

The she-dragon loudly snorted, turning her head away from him.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about it either,” the boy snickered.

Night had come, and the sky looked almost black. The stars had failed to make an appearance. The moon hid behind clouds. A cold wind blew loudly through the city. The grand maester believed a storm was on the way. They would have to leave soon if they wanted to avoid it. The pair would be heading to Dragonstone. The king had granted them leave just a few hours earlier, but Aerys wanted to wait until Agana was well-rested and fed.

“We must be leaving soon, Agana.”

Aerys leaned his head back against the cold stone. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His fingers traced shapes into the dirt beneath him. The kiss from five days ago still weighed heavily on his mind. It seemed to be all he could think about. The two boys hadn’t spoken a word to each other since. Once again, Aerys had retreated into hiding, avoiding Aegon as best as he could. Not that it was difficult. Ser Otto seemed intent on keeping the prince close to his side. Aerys tried to keep himself occupied. He was burying himself in his studies or spending time with Agana. The dragon helped quiet down the noise in his head. Aerys didn’t know how he would survive without her. He doubted that he could.

Aerys pushed himself up to his feet. He used his hand to dust himself off as he moved closer to the cave’s entrance.

“Raise the gate,” he said to the dragon keepers on the other side.

They made no noise, simply nodding their heads. The loud sounds of giant chains clinking together filled the air. The massive gate on the hillside creaked as it lifted. Aerys pulled his riding gloves from his pocket, readying himself to climb to his saddle. As his hands moved to grip the ropes, Agana raised her head. She released a low growl, turning her neck to face the cave entrance, where the dragon keepers stood.

“What is it?” Aerys asked, intrigued by her reaction.

He turned his head just in time to catch a glimpse of messy white hair rushing towards him. The young man stumbled backward, his back hitting against Agana’s side. The she-dragon growled louder, her eyes zeroing in on the prince. Aerys quickly rubbed her scales, assuring her he was alright. The young man turned his head to find Aegon glaring at him. His eyes were dark and filled with anger. 

“Leave us!” Aerys commanded the dragon keepers, who quickly bowed before scurrying away.

“How dare you!” The prince spat, pushing him back again.

“You’re leaving?!” He shoved him back again.

“You’re abandoning me!” He cried, hands balling up into fists. “You didn’t even have the fucking decency to tell me?!” His fist punched wildly at Aerys' chest.

Aerys raised his arms, attempting to protect himself from the blows. Agana growled louder, this time baring her teeth. Aerys pushed the prince back, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the cave in fear that Agana would lash out in an attempt to defend him. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Aegon yelled as Aerys dragged him down the hall.

When they were out of Agana’s line of sight, Aerys released him. Aegon stumbled backward, hitting the wall with a grunt. Aerys would have been more concerned had he not been so angry.

“What the hell were you thinking? She could have hurt you!” He yelled, furiously running his fingers through his hair. 

The young man paced back and forth wildly, trying to calm himself down. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Aegon let his body slide down the wall, dropping to the dirt. The prince broke down into tears, burying his face into his hands. Aerys froze, his heart dropping as he watched the prince's body shake. Painful, broken sobs tore through the prince's throat. Aerys moved to the wall beside him, allowing his body to slide down. He leaned his head back, letting his tears fall. A sharp ache stabbed at his chest, so painful he had to rub a palm over his heart. 

Aerys never imagined it would come to this. They were best friends. They laughed together, drank together, and kept each other’s secrets. Now, they're falling apart. Things are different now; they both could feel it. They didn’t laugh like they used to, nor did they smile like they used to. Even the very air around them somehow felt... Different. They had both tried so hard to make things work. They were desperately trying to cling to one another, trying to figure out a way to hold on to their friendship. Aegon turned, pressing his face into Aerys' shoulder. Aerys moved his arm, holding the prince as tightly as he could. He always hated seeing him cry, and he hated knowing he was the cause of it. He hated knowing that he would have to let him go, that he would have to leave him behind.

“Please don’t go!” He cried.

“I’m sorry,” Aerys whispered.

It was all he could say. He hated that. He hated that he couldn’t say more. But once again, the fear of saying too much gnawed at his mind. It was better this way, he told himself. That seemed to be something he has said a lot lately. Perhaps he thought he would actually believe it if he said it enough times. Aerys pressed his lips to the prince’s hair, taking one last deep inhale. He was trying to memorize the prince's scent. Desperate to have something of Aegon’s to take with him. 

Aerys grabs the prince’s hands, which have dug into his clothed waist. He pushes them back into the prince’s lap. Aegon cries harder as he feels Aerys slipping away from his grasp. Aerys pushed himself up to stand. The prince pulled his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around himself, resting his head on his knees. Aerys looked away, focusing his gaze on the dirt covering his boots. He couldn’t look at the prince. If he did, Aerys feared losing what little resolve he had left. He feared he would rush to Aegon’s side, pull him into his arms, and promise he would never leave him. This is for the best. 

With a shuddering sigh, Aerys turned away. His nails dug into the palms of his hands as he walked back to Agana’s cave. Aegon called out his name, his voice breaking as he pleaded for him to stay. Aerys felt like crying and screaming at the same time. He closed his eyes, hoping to block out the noise. When he opened his eyes, his gaze immediately fell upon Agana. Aerys was quick to climb upon the dragon’s back. He had to go now. One second longer, and he feared he would turn back. His gloved hand rubbed over Agana’s silver scales.

“Fly, my dragon."

Tags: @teamavatar13

[lovelykhaleesiii]

A Little Too Tight...

PAIRING: chubby!King!Aegon ii Targaryen x Queen!fem!Reader

WORDS: 2,445.

SUMMARY: Aegon’s new physique has stirred the feeble minds of his council, and he demands for your urgent appraisal... 

WARNINGS: chubby!Aegon, mentions of wg, brief mention of fatphobia, p in v sexual intercourse, praise kink, breeding kink, dub-con, swearing. 

A/N - uhm so this came in the spur of the moment, something that was meant to be short and sweet... I couldn't resist. my beautiful online soulmate @bucknastysbabe and I were frothing over this idea, so it’s a dedication to her <3 

hope ya’ll enjoy also x 

The endless hours that torturously dragged on, felt like an eternity for Aegon. Sat atop the Iron Throne, somewhat uncomfortably, he’d been forced to dedicate his entire day mindlessly listening to his dedicated subjects, mostly complain of minor, futile issues that could’ve been resolved easily. Mayhaps if Sunfyre was present, no one would dare to speak for so long or would feel discouraged to...

A lower ranked, elderly lord that presented himself before the court and his King, took up most his time, continuing to speak on, whilst Aegon found himself slowly lulling to sleep, his head occasionally nodding off, resting over his hand, as his pudgy fingers covered his closed eyelids. Much to his disadvantage, seated where all eyes could feast upon him, he would often be disturbed and dragged back to reality, by his grandsire, the Hand, Otto Hightower. Attempting to mask his prompts his King awake, with loud coughs at the foot of the throne.  Aegon fleetingly exchanged a frustrated look with his kin, before reluctantly resuming his attention back at the meek crowd beneath him. 

Gods, what he wouldn't do to be by your side right now, taking in your sweet fragrance, as you lovingly hand fed him his favourite delights and cakes, both of you retreated in the quiet peace the royal gardens offered, whilst the world outside disappeared momentarily. He knew that, that was where you would most likely be found, as he vividly envisioned you in his mind:

A dense book in your hands, completely immersed in the text, unaware of your surroundings,  laid hidden and tucked against the support of some ancient tree. 

A faint, warm smile appeared on his face, instinctively, just at the thought of you innocently going about your day, missing him [he had hoped]... 

His pleasant thoughts however, soon interrupted, by the low, brooding sound blaring from his soft, pudgy belly. There was no argument to rebut, Aegon had grown quite stout since becoming King. The once, average sized prince, now supporting a full, grown belly, and thick thighs to partner with it, after years of indulgence had finally caught up with him. Aegon, was surprised to see, just how much you’d still adored him, possibly even more now... 

“There's more of you to love.” Your sweet words would beckon, as he’d tenderly reminisced. 

He was bashfully ashamed at first, and often reminded of the humiliation his new-found appearance presented to the realm, supposedly as his family would disclaim. Although, the adoration you constantly showered him, lustful for his thicker body, pleading for his touch regardless of its changes, helped Aegon to overcome the guilt he self-inflicted. He dismissed the hate determinedly, for your judgement was the only one that mattered. 

Another gurgling sound erupted from the buried pit of his stomach, instinctively one thick hand clenched over his stomach, as he meekly tried to readjust himself in the seat. The throne had now grow uncomfortable for Aegon to relish on, as he barely was just able to fit the seat, his flesh dug deep into the metal, often leaving sore, red marks for you to tend to after a day of ruling. 

He’d shyly confessed to himself, he’d only just devoured some fresh pastries presented to him an hour ago, along with a flagon of ale, to wash the goods down. How could he have possibly grown an appetite so soon after? 

Mentally, he felt peckish, craving for something along the lines of sweet, however physically the bloating of his stomach said otherwise. Too consumed in his own perpetual thoughts about you, he hadn't realised the gradual discomfort his belt was inciting, restricting the natural movement of his swollen gut, even hindering his ability to naturally breathe. Aegon tried multiple times to muffle the growling of his stomach with a cough, the faces of his subjects slowly expressing concern, as their plump King grew flustered before them. By each agonising, passing minute the gurgles and growls grew louder, and sounded for longer, Aegon discretely yet desperately tugging at his belt, in a poor attempt to loosen the material. As he managed to shift the belt further down his belly towards his waist line, he found some relief that only lasted for a split few seconds, regretting the breath he had longingly expelled... 

SNAP!

In a swift, rapid moment, Aegon’s belt had busted open, the buckle breaking free from its lock, his wide, soft belly now plunging outward. Gazing to where the broken belt had fallen beneath his feet, and onwards towards his subject, he felt his plump cheeks burning feverish and scarlet, eyes widened in revelation. 

Some expressed genuine looks of pure shock, as others turned their attention towards the ground or elsewhere, opting too scared to gaze upon their glutton King. The old lord that had spoken monotonously, stuttered out his final words before coming to a halt, unable to continue on past what had just unfolded. 

“Get out-” Aegon uttered, his grip on each of the metallic armrests of the throne tightening with each second. As his rage brew, his brows furrowed in anger, unable to maintain eye contact, his lilac eyes fleeting from the stony steps below and back again towards the meek lords. 

“Your Grace, we have much to get through. Such events do not mean-” 

“Dare your King to repeat himself again, and I shall have your fucking tongue, Beesbury. I said everyone, out!” Aegon furiously roared, slamming his large fist over the molten arm rest, rising from his seat viciously as he threateningly towered over them all. As the Kingsguard hastily guided everyone out before rushing off themselves, Aegon instructed the last remaining knights, commanding for your immediate presence, “bring my wife to me now...”

Ser Arryk found you easily, just as where Aegon had suspected, in the floral solace of the lush green gardens. Rushing to escort you safely to Aegon, Ser Arryk hesitantly explained the situation that had unfolded, as you’d annoyingly pestered him for answers. You helplessly felt a cheeky grin beam across your face, that you tried to straighten before reaching the familiar doors to the throne room. 

“He awaits for you, my Queen.” 

Opening a single door for you, you politely thank the guards and Ser Arryk, before slowly filing in. Your focus immediately panning towards your beloved husband, witnessing him defeatedly sat upon the infamous Iron Throne, his face buried in the palm of his hands. As your small footsteps grew more prominent, he met your sorrowful gaze with a miserable one, a soft “Aegon” escaping your lips, as you came to a halt before the stony steps of the throne. 

“Up here, now.” 

It had finally registered just how serious Aegon was about the situation at hand, his voice was low and his tone unamused. A part of you was intimidated unlike before, uncertain of what your husband’s intentions were to follow, although a desperate, buried part of you grew flustered by the lavish sight before you. Despite what Aegon perceived of himself, you found him to be incredibly desirable, craving for your King to defile you right then and there...

As you took the final closing steps towards him, you felt the habitual urge to courtesy, and as you found yourself kneeling, your gaze fell upon the broken belt beneath. Your eyes lingered over it for a few seconds, before meeting Aegon’s stoic gaze that must’ve been fixated on you the entire time, you anxiously crept your way towards him. 

His hands immediately reached over, gripping the material of your gown, as means to hike it up over your front. He began promptly tugging at the silk fabric, pulling you in closer towards his large frame. Leaning back against the throne, his head nudged for you to take a seat over him, straddling his dense lap, just after you'd removed your garments beneath. It took you a while to gain some sort of comfort and stability, for his plush, fleshy thighs took up the entirety of the seat whilst his portly stomach obstructed the front, causing a slight natural gap between. Left with no choice however to kneel over him, his hands held firmly on your waist providing you extra support, as he pushed you in closer, not minding the pressure against his stomach. 

“Your King demands that you sate him-” 

Precisely on cue, you felt yourself gently lowering down over his thigh, ever so slowly pacing yourself back and forth, as your bare cunt stirred some heat beneath the tight fabric of his pants. 

“Hmm, is that so?” You whisper into Aegon’s ear, as one arm wraps around his neck softly, whilst the other tightly grips over his broad shoulder. 

“Now how will you do so, dear wife? I can feel your cunt already throbbing for me-” 

Your pace remained steady, although further attempting to plunge your entire mass into his thighs, as your cunt ached and selfishly craved for more. Your entrance began to moisten with each fleeting second, as the wetness began to pool from either sides of your walls, the thought of Aegon’s body stimulating you. 

“Shall I-I mention, just how much this sight of you turns me on? From the moment I entered, I wished nothing more than for your fat cock to be inside of me-”

Aegon began to leave a wet, trail of kisses down across your neckline, sucking on your soft, sweet-scented skin. He'd only managed to release a low “mhmm” growl, before resuming his suckling. 

“Can’t you just smell me, my Lord? How wet I am for you, how wet only you could make me? Is this not enough for you?” 

Aegon swiftly, moved his face directly against yours, now face to face, as his eyes hungrily lingered over your lips. 

“Such filthy words, from such a beauty. Have I tarnished you so?” 

“In ways your Grace, you cannot fathom. I need you to fuck me, now, Aegon.” 

One hand released from your waist and gripped your sulken chin, like a spoilt child about to be scolded. 

“Selfish, spoilt girl. So needy for your King, aren’t you? My sweetling-” 

Aegon’s breathing grew heavier, beginning to heave as your body gracefully slammed into his, your pace fastening. Your wetness had now pooled, soaking the worn material beneath, the friction of your skin against his material, flaring against your cunt.

“Want your King’s cock to spread you so wide, filling you up with my seed, until I'm certain a heir is made, hmm? Is that what you want, my dear?” 

“Ugh-Y-Yes-” You weakly moan, your fingers had found their way through to Aegon’s short, platinum strands, gripping and pulling at his roots. Feeling your plump, tender breasts shoved against his thick chest, you’d finally succumbed to not wanting to talk, plunging your moist lips against his pout, tongues entwined as you both shared a long, passionate kiss. Breathless by the time you’d stopped, you had felt Aegon’s cock strongly protruding beneath your entrance, eagerly pulsating, its urge to bury itself inside of you was palpabable beneath. And yet his swollen belly interfered for he could lay back no further on the throne, struggling to align yourself to his cock, Aegon grew frustrated with himself once again. 

“Get up-” Aegon sternly commanded, and without hesitation, you did as you were told, earning a cocky chuckle from Aegon, as he watched you weakly yet obediently stand, whilst he undid his tight pants. Sighing as he gained some more relief from the restrictive fabric. 

“How obedient you get, when you are so desperate for my cock. Turn-” 

And again, you mindlessly obeyed. Turning to face the absent crowd, the empty hall beneath, as you felt Aegon hastily hiking up the back of your gown. 

“Okay baby, come down, slowly, slowly- That’s it, baby-” 

A thoughtless moan escaped your lips, as your gripped the rails of the throne, whilst desperately trying to adjust to his massively wide size. Opening your walls up vastly, as the tip buried itself deeper, your back arched perfectly, as his stomach rightfully filled the curve of your spine. One of Aegon’s arms snaked up towards your front, a palm covering your breast, as he cradled you, as to avoid you from falling forward, whilst the other guided your hips as he shoved his cock into your cunt from behind. 

“That’s it, my sweetling. You did so well, now cum for me, angel. Your King commands it.” 

His palm that easily groped your breast, began to message the cupped flesh, kneading at it as he resumed leaving wet trails against the sensitive crook of your neck. 

“A-Aeg-Please-” You breathlessly muttered, one hand reaching over to grip his forearm that crossed over your front. 

“Look at you trying to take me in, can never get used to it, huh? And yet you crave for it always-” 

“Hmm, Aeg- Fill me up, I need you to fill me-” 

With your weight ontop and his bulkier mass already holding him down, his thrusts were sloppy yet powerful. Your walls clenched over his cock tightly, as you could sense the tip stroking and just hitting your cervix, from the right angles, a white, bolting flash coursing through your body, causing you to shudder effortlessly. 

“Is my cock not enough, that you wish for more? Want to swell and carry my heirs, is that it?” 

“Mhmm, y-yes Aeg, p-please! Al-Almost there, m-my King-” Your nails beginning to dig deeper into the fabric of his fleshy forearm, your head instinctively turned towards his, taking in his scent as you tried desperately to regain your breaths. 

“Who am I to deny, my Queen then?”

Just as you’d felt your wetness drenching Aegon’s cock, oozing between your inner thighs, you felt Aegon’s warm, rich cum shooting upwards inside, causing you to shed one last heroic cry of his name. 

Taking you both a few minutes to gather yourselves, regaining your breaths, strength and consciousness, Aegon helped to clean you, straightening the creases of your gown, before you attended to him. Your legs felt partially numb from having knelt for some time, and weak from his cock, yet Aegon’s hand held supporting you, as you reached down picking up the broken garment. 

You both pondered over it, noticing the guilt overtaking Aegon’s face once more, as the sash in your hands acted as a shameful reminder of what he'd become. 

“This- This means nothing to me, Aegon... You are the King. What you say goes, and no one will tempt to question you. Show them your strength, show them that this- [gesturing at the vanquished belt in your hand] is what will become of them, if they dare to try...” 

[insomniakisses]

AHHHHH MORE ON MY CHUBBY AEGON BRAINROT!

He sooooooooo has a lactation and tittie kink he has his pregnant wife on his wide lap and eagerly sucks at your tits guzzling down you milk like hes starving and he doesn’t stop till he feels bloated whining at his stomach ache 🤭🥺🥺

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

The tarvern girl

 

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x fem chubby reader   Summary: Aegon II meets a simple chubby girl who works in a tavern Trigger Warning: English is not my mother tongue, so sorry if there are mistakes that are going through my correction. And it's the first time i write for him.

In the middle of King’s Landing there was the tavern where you worked, said tavern, consisting of two floors as well as a cellar, on the ground floor, of pillars of oaks delimited spaces in the large room that counted the floor. The stone walls were covered with ochre cloth, woodwork was placed there both to help support the walls but also as decoration, on several walls, there were receptacles for the torches, there was on the wall to the left of the entrance, several pictorial posters. (King’s Landing population being mostly illiterate, they were used primarily to prevent a large event or when looking for a criminal.) On the other walls were ornaments of dried flowers, an old shield dating back if you were to believe the tavern, before the conquest of Westeros. The ground was composed of a large grey stone slab, on which were placed several tables, to which were added wooden chairs. Several torches illuminated the room, giving warm colors to the place. A counter made of large stones and a large plate of oak wood advocated at the back of the room, the tavernier, who was a large man a little round with a trimming beard, served customers who drank near him. A wooden door separated the counter from the kitchen, although it seemed modest at first glance, did not prevent the cooks from preparing small or large dishes for the guests. 

On the first floor, there were the guest rooms, there were 4 of them as well as a bathroom where guests could request the preparation of a bath. The rooms, like the kitchen, were modest, they all looked alike, with a double bed, a wardrobe, a carpet and a window to which fine curtains could be cut from the outside.     The second floor was that of the owner and also served as an attic, the owner lived there with his family, the employees living a few hundred meters from the tavern, he was not obliged to house them too.         Musicians played lively music, this evening was good, more than twenty customers were consuming, talking and dancing. There were a lot of men coming back from work or travelling. A smell of fire, meat and grilled vegetables was floating in the air. As a waitress, you went from table to table, being more chubby than other employees was not a disadvantage, all that was important either that you do a good job, or polite with the customers but firm with the most difficult and smiling, The rest wasn’t important. Customers paying rather well, especially merchants returning from long journeys, They used to get used to it as the old tanner gave tips according to their refinement with their waiters and spent several hours talking about their new orders and their fabrications or talking about their families. That’s how you learned that the blacksmith’s daughter had just become engaged to the shoemaker’s son, or that the baker’s wife had asked him not to spend the money in the tavern. They were merchants close to the tavern, they became members of the family there. 

All were silent when the door opened with a little more force than usual, and the cool wind of the evening came in, flickering the flames of the torches. The customers and the tavern-keeper looked at the people who had just entered, there were five of them, two wore a dark hood on their heads and all set out towards the counter, the customer who was at your side began to speak to you.     "Although these people are suspicious, I’d like my beer."     "Oh yes forgive me."     You gave the client his drink before you continued to serve it to your colleague. You looked from the corner of your eye, the group of newcomers, all along their drinks. the hoods had not left their heads, the tavern had received several comments from customers suspecting that his people could be criminals on the run, but your boss answered them each time, that it was not very likely, the criminals more often combine in the lower quarters, the guards spanking their rounds and the last catch of the criminals by the golden capes had marked the memories, although this had happened before your birth, by the prince Daemon, and he was no longer commander of the King’s Landing watch, events had marked more than a generation. 

As the night progressed, clients began to leave, some more sober than others. The small group asked for a free room for one of their comrades who were much more drunk than the others. Your colleague had just finished her schedule and it was to you that your boss asked to prepare a room, the two remaining guests were not going to cause her any problem.         The room was quickly prepared, checking that the sheets were clean, closing the window that was open to ventilate the room and lighting a fire in the walk to warm and light the room. You walked out of the room to look for an extra blanket to help the client not get too cold by the time the room gets hot. At the same time, two of the people in the group dropped off the very drunk client, asking you when you returned that no one would enter the room before their return in the early afternoon, while their drinking companion sobered up. You agreed, it was not uncommon for some guests not to be disturbed, they even pay a small surcharge at the end of their stay.     Part of you would have at the time preferred that the unknown be a criminal, for to the vision of short and silvery hair a chill due to the surprise taken you. You’ve never seen Targaryen or Velaryon. It was true that rumours roamed the city, about Prince Aegon, spending several nights in some places of King’s Landing and not the most beautiful. You doubted whether he was the prince or not, you didn’t want any trouble and considered him one of your clients, hoping that you wouldn’t have any trouble with anyone, if this young man was indeed someone important.     "Here’s a blanket to keep you warm, do you need anything else?" You watched the young man lying on the edge of the bed while keeping a soft voice.     "Wine... more wine..." 

You slowly bowed your head before leaving the room, you closed the door behind you, going down the steps you saw that there was no more customer. Your boss watched you come back, he realized that something was wrong when you whispered the wine order.       "Y/ ?"   "It’s nothing, the customer asks for wine."   "Hmm... is that all he wants?"   "Yes. "       The tavern boy looked at you for a few seconds before giving you a cup and a pitcher of red wine. You also told him which room was occupied, before going back upstairs. The sooner you ended up with the unknown and the sooner the tavern could close the few hours before the arrival of the day’s employees, these coming mainly to clean the premises, go to walk for some of the provisions and accommodate the wagons filled with wine barrels and beer barrels.     You walked to the door of the stranger’s room. You knocked twice and waited for the other person to answer you or open the door, you thought that in his condition, if he could get up you would be surprised, more than one client in this condition ended the evening or the night having to be helped or to walk on all fours or even to sleep on the surface on which they are. There was no noise, indicating an answer or a movement, you decided to wait another minute or two before entering and put the wine and the cup in the room. If the client was asleep, it might as well wait for him to wake up.     You were out of your thoughts when you heard a loud noise coming from the room, you jumped out of it and hurriedly opened the door, ready to scream your boss’s name in case the unknown had been mysteriously assaulted. But the vision that greeted you no longer made you want to yell at your boss. 

The stranger was a few centimeters from the bed, on the ground rolling in blankets, fighting with the forces he had left. You put the cup and the jug on the ground before you left to shake it off.       "Calm down, I’ll help you." You stayed calm, although the situation might have been funny.   "Hmmm... let me... "   "I’d love to, but I can’t let you get tangled up like that, you’re gonna hurt yourself."       The young stranger looked at you for a few seconds, his look of a dark purple was lined with red veins. He seemed to mist in alcohol, more than reason, he seemed to hesitate to accept your help before he stopped struggling. You helped him and discovered that he had with difficulty half undressed, leaving himself with pants and boots. He did not thank you, getting up with difficulty and sitting on the bed, you put the blankets on the bed, letting him fend for himself as much as he could under them. In the meantime you made the few meters that separated you from the door to look for the wine and the cup, to place them close to him.       "If you feel sick, there’s a pot under your bed. Rest well."       He did not answer you, preferring to lie down and turn his back on you. You get out of the room, lock the door behind you, walk down the stairs, pull the knot off your apron that you put in the employees' shed, pick up some of your stuff from there and get the key to your house and get started. You closed the door of the tavern and in the night you took the way of your house, crossing some knights whom you quietly saluted, do not think about the next day and the future events. No, all you cared about was your bed.    

The days and weeks that followed were almost identical to the work. The same group came several nights in a row to the tavern and each time the same stranger ended his night at the tavern. Although at first it was Maria, your colleague, who served them, the tavern-keeper asked you to replace her, you were already taking care of the unknown when he spent the night in the tavern, as much as you take care of them throughout their consumption so as not to have future account problems at the time of payment. You accepted, knowing that your purse will grow by several gold coins. Of the group, you spoke only with the unknown, it was first of all more small courteous exchanges than real conversation, until ending in small discussion, although he knows your name, he had not told you his, he remained in your mind, your "beautiful unknown".         The more the weeks passed, the more you began to wait for the visit of the group, which in time became smaller, until the moment when only the unknown and a man were left. The man did not seem to be any older than his drinking companion, he seemed to you to care more, no doubt he was of noble birth or simply richer than the rest of the clients. Their visits were synonymous with many things, first a good pay but also that you could see the unknown without his hood later in the evening. Lately, he drank no more than reason, keeping some of his mind for your conversations, to the point of slowly developing a relationship of friendship or at least what was approaching it. 

The evening was calm, only the regulars were present, some musicians played their instruments, the gentle warmth of the room contrasted with the colder wind blowing outside, the hours coming, the wind doubled in power, the tavern saw the climate change, had Maria come back, she lived further into King’s Landing and he didn’t want anything to happen to her if the wind carried things away. You insisted on staying, alone, the tavern would have had trouble serving the customers and his children were too young to be able to help him in his task. The blacksmith had begun to complain of the east wind that he passed the threshold of the door, he had to stop forging earlier than expected because the fire supplying his forge failed to extinguish or to send fire residues on the nearby buildings.     The wind was blowing louder and louder, the instruments played by the musicians barely becoming audible, they stopped playing and got their pay before returning home. In a few minutes, torrents of rain broke over King’s Landing. The few people present left after paying. Leaving a damp and violent wind every time the door opened, the people even having trouble to close it, the breath was strong.    

  The end of your service arrived faster than expected, the tavern had asked you if you wanted to stay at the tavern until the storm that was unfolding outside calmed down, you politely refused, insisting that you wanted to check that there was no damage to your house. It is a little ball in your stomach that you came out of the tavern, the cloak on your shoulders was missing every second to fly away if you did not hold it with your two hands, the rain fell in a storm, in a few seconds you were soaked, the weight of your clothes seemed to slow you down in your fight against the wind, the noise of the breath prevented you from clearly between what was happening around you, the sky was so cloudy that the light of the moon did not pass. The torches of the streets were all extinguished only the few lights emanating from the buildings of the street allowed you somehow to spot yourself. There were only very few people on the street, mostly knights who were trying to shelter themselves from the wind. Several fabrics and flags hung high between the buildings had come loose, more than a string of flags had almost carried you away. The streets had become muddy and slippery, becoming dangerous.     It was in this chaos that you felt a hand placed on your shoulder, you shouted a cry, which was muffled by the surrounding noise, the wind having even taken your breath. Turning you could see that it was your stranger, his short hair curled in the rain, and their colors had slightly darkened.         "But... what are you doing in the street?" You had to scream to try to get your John Doe to hear you, doubting otherwise he would understand what you were saying.     "I should ask you! You’re close to Red Kepp!"     "What do you mean? You must be wrong!" 

A gust of wind made the rain fly in the direction shown by the young man, you could feverishly glimpse red purple colors in the distance. Surprise, you looked behind you, how did you manage to party in the wrong streets? You were sure of yourself that you had turned right when you left the inn and the first left and then... Then... You don’t know if you turned in the right direction. The young man, with his eyes almost closing by the power of the wind trying to look at you, had his hand on your shoulder.     "Come on!"     Still puzzled and trying to understand how you managed to find yourself in front of the ramparts of the castle, the young man took your arm and dragged you along the ramparts, until reaching a small recess, this recess led you to steps embedded in the stone that constituted the castle, they climbed on several levels and allowed you to shelter from rain and wind.     To say that you were surprised would have been an understatement, the sighs you were wearing against your stranger were starting to rise and prove true. You were wondering what the odds were that you could walk through dark passages of the castle without getting caught by a guard or anyone, no doubt they turned out to be nil. The corridors seemed as long as some of the streets you walked through the city, you began to shiver with cold and felt the tips of your nose and fingers numb.    

The maids were cleaning Prince Aegon’s room when he entered, startling at the force of the door opening. One of her moaned when she saw the prince dripping with rainwater, she hurried to approach but was restrained when the prince entered taking you inside, this was not the first time he had taken a young woman to the castle, but it was more rare to see him return in such conditions. The eldest maid caught her spirits as quickly as she could, she walked towards her to place a log there and make the fire resume, telling others to help the prince dry out and to find dry clothes for both of you.       "Don’t tell Mother."   "Well, my prince."       The maids were quick, in no time you warmed up by the fire, watching it as the maids helped the young prince to get rid of his wet clothes. You were thinking about information about the unknown, so he was a prince and definitely Targaryen. But you did not understand why the prince would go so often to the tavern in which you worked, you certainly loved him, but rumors wanted the prince to have a preference for the more infamous and obscure places of the city, you suspected that it was Aegon and not Prince Aemond because he was known to be one-eyed, the other princes not living at the Red Keep, it left you little choice on the person.         "I should have told you earlier."       You turned your head towards the voice, noticing that you were now alone in the room. 

  "Why?"   "Hm?" He looked at you and seemed surprised by your question.   "Why didn’t you say anything about your status?"   "I did not choose to be born into this family, you did not treat me as a member of the royal family, for once I was considered normal and not as Prince Aegon." He said his title in an almost mocking way.         You spent several hours talking to each other, warming yourself by the fire, you let him speak, because for the first time Aegon felt himself listening. For a person of nobility, he explained to you that he did not appreciate this status, although it allows him several privileges, but he was not master of his destiny because of it, whether for marriage, for dating, everything had been dictated to him, since he was born. He wanted to be free of all this, alcohol allowing him to feel for a free time.         This discussion lasted all evening and part of the night, the wind was still blowing outside, shaking the frames of the windows. The next morning, when you left the prince’s room, you promised him not to tell the tavern, it would stay between you two.     It was the first night of a long line of encounters, whether at the tavern or in the castle, through your home. Your complicity only strengthened over time. This complicity slowly began to turn into something else, first you believed in a simple friendship and then a deeper friendship, until you thought of him during the day, from a few seconds to a good part of the day, until you dreamed of your meetings. It slowly morphed into attraction, which was mutual, it is nervous that one night you confessed to him, a weight on Aegon’s shoulders disappeared while listening to you, he himself felt feelings strong enough for you. 

Your meetings did not remain secret for long, as the guards had crossed you in the streets of the city, they had warned Aegon’s grandfather, Otto Higtower, who was frustrated by the prince’s adventures. He sent spies, kept Aegon healthy and above all, kept a hand on Aegon. Alicent, on the other hand, was warned by one of the young maids, who went to find you one morning in the prince’s room, and had warned the queen, lest she have trouble seeing you. Alicent was not happy at all, Aegon was her first son and he was the most complicated, more than once she had yelled at him to stop all his nonsense, to become responsible, to think about the family. But how do you think about your family when you feel rejected by them.         The more the king’s health deteriorated, the more Aegon remained in the city, avoiding as much as he could the castle, the atmosphere in the Red Keep was increasingly gloomy and he found comfort in your arms, your words and incidentally in the wine of the tavern. Aegon put himself in his moments there imagining a life outside of King’s Landing, a life without the responsibility of his rank, a life by your side and the more his images seemed possible to him, the harder life at the Red Keep was, his mother, Queen Alicent, wanted Aegon to finally step into his position as a prince and stop seeing you. This had resulted in a terrible dispute between mother and son. 

“Be responsible for once!”  

“I’ve done everything you ask me and it’s never enough!”  

"You wouldn’t be so drunk and hanging out with that slut!"  

“She’s the only person who thinks of me normally! I don’t want to be a prince!”  

"It’s not up to you. You won’t dream it anymore, you understand me?"  

"Otherwise what?"  

Aegon had no response from Alicent, but a chill came over him. That night, he had left the castle and it was again to take refuge in the city, the idea of your escape becoming more and more precise, even if you left on the back of Sunfyre, you will leave King’s Landing, he was certain. 

[bucknastysbabe]

Covetousness - Aegon II x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Chubby!Aegon, King!Aegon, breastfeeding kink, pregnancy kink, slight body worship, edging, handies, pnv!sex, jealous sullen little brat Aegon, stuffing, creampie, breeding kink, he loves some milk, breast fixation

A/N: I was invaded by a dark spirit again and made this also I don’t beta excuse any fuckups

Tag list: @lovelykhaleesiii @ilikeitbetterangsty @fairysluna

Aegon was being sulky and mopey today, jealous of the lords in court obviously staring at your milk-swollen teats, unable to be hidden in any dress.

In typical fashion Aegon had a fit, ordered that the court session was over and threatened to have eyeballs cut out. Huffing and puffing down the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast he ranted, “They think because I’m scarred, fat, a simpleton the leeches can have my rose.”

You sighed, patting his pudgy hand, “Sweetheart, you’re perfect as is. Whose child is in my womb, hm?”

“Mine,” he muttered.

The rest of the walk was blackened by his ugly mood. Once sat down in your chambers Aegon poured himself a liberal amount of wine and angrily munched on sweet rolls. You sat in the chair across from him, hand across your belly. Gently you tried again, “My king, why must you hate yourself so? You’re amazing, going to be a good papa to the babe.”

His eyes softened up some at that. But his unthinking pouty mouth had to run. Aegon snapped, purple eyes flashing, “Best go find a Lannister or Arryn. Fat and inept just like that dead bastard Viserys.”

Your mouth downturned. The Targaryen had matched your pregnancy down to the mood swings, cravings, weight gain. Although he wasn’t svelte to begin with. Never the matter, he needed a firm hand. You stared at him blankly, idly caressing your stomach.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Am I disgusting you?”

You canted your head towards the huge bed and hummed, “Honey, go get on the bed and undress will you? Please?”

As foul of a temper he was in, the blonde was wrapped around your little finger. He sighed and blew smoke but did so, lounging out for you to ogle. You smiled and ambled over, turning for him to help you undress.

The fool liked you to wear low cut dresses, milk swollen tits spilling out. But then get mad when people looked. Aegon’s mind could be an enigma. But it was more likely the lack of forethought, prick overtaking common sense. Something to stare at while on his lofty seat atop the iron throne.

You moaned in relief when your teats were freed from the constrictive garment, Aegon’s hands grasping at your softened waist. He mumured, “C’mere let me, I know they hurt.” You turned and let your doting husband help your out-of-balance frame onto his wide thighs.

He made to suckle at a stretched nipple but you pushed the beast back with a resounding, “No.” His brows furrowed as Aegon squawked, “Why not? They look full up. I’m hungry.” Tutting at the blonde you pulled a cord from one of the curtains surrounding the bed. Aegon whinged and rolled his eyes, remaining pliant.

You tried to reach around him but both of your bellies were in the way. One soft with indulgence, the other hard with child. Eventually you made Aegon turn himself to the side so you could tie his wrists up. Poor thing was beet red now, grumbling under his breath.

Sighing in contentment you stroked a full cheek, simpering, “Do I always have to force it into your thick skull Aeg? I love you, only you.” His eyes shone, his eagerness for affection peaking splendidly. Aegon rasped, “Will you show me? I’m not quite sure?”

Cheeky bastard.

Awkwardly leaning to the side you felt around the side table for the scented oil. Aegon’s stiff prick nudged at the bottom of your rounded stomach. Violet eyes flickered up, the king treading lightly, “My rose, wh-what is the plan here?” You shrugged and coated your hand in the lavender oil, gripping his turgid cock. Aegon gasped out, back arching, shoving his generous gut into you. The softness made you squirm, grow wetter.

You jerked him in smooth slides, lids heavy and focused on only him. Aegon was panting already, thick thighs trembling around your own. “Can’t you see how much I desire you Aegon? How wet and needy I am for you?” He groaned in agony, eyes fluttering. You continued in a sultry purr, “Every morning I see how you’ve bred me good and get so, ah, aroused. Can barely reach anymore. Have to rut on a pillow like a maiden.”

Aegon babbled, “Gods, sweetheart, you’re killing me!”

He strained against the bonds, panting shamelessly. You giggled at the copious spend leaking from his cock, making the glide so thick and lurid. Aegon whined, “Let me have a taste,

oh gods, gonna cum already!” You shook your head no, slowing your fist to a frustrating halt.

“You can drink if you make it two more times Hm? Two times for mentioning Lannister and Arryn like I want anyone but you. They can look all they want, but they’ll never have my cunt or my womb, my sweet milk you greedy thing.” Aegon’s belly trembled, even his softened chest peaking from arousal.

“I’ll do it, yes, my r-rose! M’so sorry I was being an ass! Can I touch you atleast?“

“One more and you can touch.”

Thus began the the second round of your fist fucking Aegon silly. You cooed, “So gorgeous my king, such a good ruler, look at you.” He groaned deeply, nose scrunching up. “My strong husband, a king should fit his throne like you do, need a healthy appetite to run the realm. No matter you’ve gotten soft.” Aegon pled, “F-fffuck love, oh you’ve got to stop, I’m so close!”

“Do you think your belly is bigger than mine?”

“Oh stop stop stop, I’ll ruin it, shit!”

You grinned and caressed his cheek with your clean hand, pinching the soft flesh. Another awkward session of maneuvering was endured to get Aeg’s wrists free. Before he could grab your waiting flesh, you hummed, “Touching only, make it through you get my tits.” He whined impatiently, “Yes, yes!”

He instantly groped and felt up your belly and tits, pretty eyes rolling up. He panted over the rhythmic ‘Schlick schlick Schlick’ of your fist, “Oh my gods- love- you’re so gorgeous, can’t believe I did this to you, fucking goddess.” Your own eyes fluttered at that, suddenly needing to sit on your lovers cock.

Aegon was sweating and beginning to shake again, growling, “You’re right- hah- all mine to fuck and breed as I please.” You moaned, “Smith’s balls, yes, want to be full of you all the time, only you!” Your lover gripped your moving hand, stopping it, eyes pleading.

“Oh fuck it.”

His calloused hands helped you lift up onto his purpling cock, slick and engorged. In a hoarse cry you gripped at his sturdy shoulders, moving the best you could. This wasn’t going to be a long, nor acrobatic affair. “Go on, have a taste, drink it up my love.” Aegon took to your left teat greedily, coaxing that sweet milk out.

His pudgy hands massaged at your sore tits, making you whine and squirm on his lip, so oversensitive from the pregnancy. The blonde moaned around desperate gulps, rutting into your cunt, building a strange friction setting your spine alight.

He drank and drank until your tit wasn’t fit to burst, wiping the droplet of milk from your mouth. Aegon rasped, “Goddamn ambrosia, fuck.” He dove back to your other nipple, giving the same grasping manner. You could feel his belly swelling with the liquid, pushing you back some. Your nimble fingers slid down to your swollen bud, circling roughly, hoarse groans escaping your lips, chanting his name in a litany.

Aegon gasped around your tit, breathing against the flesh, breathing while he kept rutting. The king managed, “Gonna cum, keep touching that sweet cunt darling, I’m about to burst.” His lips sealed back, violet eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

All the stimulation, Aegon’s greedy groping and suckling, his thick cock nudging your sweet spot sent you over the edge with a wail, inner walls clamping down. Your husbands hands dug into your hips, shouting as you drug his orgasm out by surprise. Milk coated his full lips and chin, the royal carrying on grunting as he pumped your womb full.

Then he finished off the rest of your milk, leaning back with a satisfied belch, goddamn pig. You were still seated on his cock, worn out from the strenuous activities. Aegon’s belly was swollen and full, him looking quite dozy. He held your hands as you clambered off of him, laying on his side, pregnant belly flush to his softness.

He pet at your hair, murmuring, “By the gods, I do apologize. I get all in my head, think you’ll find someone less of a buffoon.” He smiled at you, but his eyes shone with fear. Rubbing at the sparse hair on his chest you replied, “No, you’re a buffoon for thinking you’re a buffoon. Obviously I’m quite invested in my handsome king. Though I do wonder how you’re going to share with the babe.”

You snickered at the pouty look on his lips, Aegon muttering about your ‘mean joke’. You gingerly rubbed his belly and hummed, “Don’t worry, I’ll save some for you, just get it while you can yeah?”

[imaginarianisms]

full name :  helaena i targaryen. other names :   hel, hela, helaena the gentle, helaena the sweet, helaena the dreamer. age : 17-21 (main). species : human; dragondreamer & dragonrider (main); human; draconic & insect alterhuman (modern). gender : femme presenting cis woman (main; canon.) likely some form of xenogender relating to her special interests; a xenic woman. (modern). sexuality : caeddemiomniromantic omniasexual.

origin : the red keep, king's landing, the crownlands, westeros. (main; verse varies); america (modern; verse varies). current location : the red keep. (main; verse varies); americas (modern; verse varies). nationality : westerosi (main; canon); american (modern). ethnicity : the blood of old valyria (house targaryen, house velaryon, possibly house celtigar), with semidistant mixed first men & andal (house hightower & house florent through the maternal line who're heavily mixed indigenous & were initially an indigenous house in our& lore) & summer islander (house velaryon through viserys through the paternal line) ancestry (main); white (or at the very least white seeming) with semidistant black & indigenous heritage. spoken languages : high valyrian & the common westerosi tongue, high valyrian sign language & westerosi sign language & flower language when communicating nonverbally. (main; canon); english, french, latin, & american sign language. (modern). family : viserys i targaryen (father), alicent hightower (mother), criston cole (paternal figure), daemon targaryen (paternal uncle), baelon targaryen (paternal grandfather), alyssa targaryen (maternal grandmother), jaehaerys i targaryen (paternal great grandfather), alysanne i targaryen (paternal great grandmother), otto hightower (maternal grandfather), alyrie florent (maternal grandmother), gwayne hightower (maternal uncle), rhaenyra i targaryen (older half sister), jocealyn velaryon (half-niece; @lilagonzaldrizoti), jacaerys velaryon (half-nephew), lucerys velaryon (half-nephew), joffrey velaryon (half-nephew), aegon iii targaryen (half-nephew), viserys ii targaryen (half-nephew), aegon ii targaryen (older brother; brother-husband), jaehaerys *!* (son; nicknamed 'cricket'; aegon ii), jaehaera *!* (daughter; nicknamed 'ladybug'; aegon ii), maelor *!* (son; nicknamed 'firefly'; aegon ii), aemond targaryen (younger brother), daeron targaryen (younger brother), dreamfyre (her blue she-dragon; the winged dream), reks (her frog she'd found in the gardens of the red keep and brought into the castle as a child), egg (her cricket), kassa (her 'russian' blue domestic cat), vanilla (her glen & rat terrier domestic dog mutt she'd found wandering in the red keep after the blood & cheese incident & keeps the abused animal under her care who in turns becomes her proto service dog) amari dayne (handmaiden; a friend's oc), odessa florent (handmaiden), septa vaenna velaryon (her childhood companion, handmaiden & septa; @velcryons), desmond jordayne (her sworn shield; @sevynhells). partner(s) : aegon ii targaryen (brother-husband; forcibly married; strained; canon), has conflicting feelings for septa vaenna velaryon her longtime childhood companion.

occupation : princess turned queen & dragonrider. (main; canon). student, disability rights activist, & gaming influencer & a member of aegon's band (modern). religion :  syncretic view of the gods of old valyria & the faith of the seven; agnostic. height :   5'5". body type : paleskinned, initially skinny but at the age of thirteen she was plumper than most targaryens & her pregnancy with the twins added to this a tad; chubby, curvy & plump, thick thighs & a soft tummy, she often smells like her perfumes with her signature scent being lavender, she lost a bit of weight due to the trauma of the blood & cheese incident but she's still as soft, squishy, cuddly & cushy as a pillow. disabilities & neurodivergencies : autism, AVPD & PTSD later in life due to her trauma; verbalflux & may become nonverbal due to overwhelming stress. hair : silver-gold moonglow straight-wavy hair that's usually done up in braids that her mother alicent taught her years ago when let loose reaches down her back. eyes : bright eyes; lilac eyes. tattoos : n/a (canon); has a small faceless green spider on her cheek (modern). piercings :  emerald earrings & golden star & moon shaped earrings (main; canon). scars : has faded stretch marks across her belly from her pregnancies which she's insecure about, on her inner thighs while first claiming & riding dreamfyre. (main).

educational background : a princess & dragonrider's education & educated in the mysteries of the faith; hel eventually becomes knowledgeable in many different topics, notably biology, astrology, botany & the communication by way of flower language due to constantly being in her maternal grandfather otto's study and reading from his library considering he's a learned man & becomes incredibly interested in the occult, notably with valyrian sorcery & alchemy & necromancy & spellcraft, which house hightower have been rumored to partake in. (main; canon); college. (modern). social media : n/a (canon); most general social media, definitely has a tumblr somewhere, also shares a youtube & a twitch channel with aegon & aemond where they stream videogames together. (modern). smoking :   n/a. drinking :   social but doesn't particularly like it because she doesn't like the taste. drugs :   n/a (canon), cannabis for medical & recreational purposes (modern).  athletics : a wonderful dancer, quick runner (she's a lot faster than she looks, especially considering she used to run away from overstimulating situations as a young girl!) & an excellent rider of horses & her dragon dreamfyre. hobbies :   singing, dancing, music, drawing, painting, writing, literature, languages, history, botany, flower language, embroidery, the study of animals, bathing in scalding hot baths, humanitarianism, equestrianism, sailing, swimming, sweet things, baking, spending time with her children, astrology, divination, dragonriding, dragonlore & occultism (main; canon) streaming, gaming, ASMR, vtubing (modern). favorite drink : peach juice & apple juice. favorite food : red apples, cheese, grapes & peaches; has a weakness for cookies & cake. favorite music : classic (canon); indie, folk, dreampop, classical, punk, rock (modern). clothing style :  classical gowns of the age, wears mostly gowns of silks, satins & myrish lace, furs whenever necessary and jewels, mostly emeralds & sapphires, and dresses mostly in shades of blue, pink & purple before her marriage & then blue, green & gold after her marriage, rarely wears the black & red of house targaryen. often wears blue & green veils or hairnets or hoods over her hair. wears an emerald green necklace with earrings to match & a crown that looks like a halo. she mostly likes to wear blue dresses & riding clothes with celestial themes & earrings of a golden moon & stars to match. she wears three rings: her wedding ring, a golden sun to represent aegon & sunfyre, a smaller blue ring to represent herself & dreamfyre & the smallest, a green ring to represent alicent & the greens faction. (main; canon); casual, cottagecore, whimsigoth, & academia. (modern).

Tagged by: stole it from ourselves& !! Tagging: anyone who breathes !

[aegoniiwifey]

Chubby Aeg Request: Heavy Targcest, Aegon and his daughter, Aegon love to make his sweet girl ride his thigh, then bury himself inside her, bringing her to pleasure over and over, before holding her to him, showering her with love in the aftermath, making sure his dominance didn't overwhelm her

Daddy’s Princess

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x daughter!Princess!Reader

WORDS: 3,014.

WARNINGS: incest, mentions of death/war/suicide, mentions of depression, dark!Aegon ii, thigh riding, mentions of p in v sexual intercourse, cream pie, breeding kink, Daddy kink, praise kink, dom!Aegon ii, swearing, possessive!Aegon ii. mentions of pregnancy/birth.

A/N - I’ve never done this trope before but something is making me feral & I— must admit, this was hot… I got very carried away, but still hope you enjoy xoxo

credit to the original images/art work 🤍

The Targaryens were undoubtedly known for their “queer” customs, this had been widely yet sceptically recognised. Your own grandmother, the Dowager Queen, even uttered the words herself, despite having played a major role in marrying your late, beloved mother, Helaena to her elder brother, your father and the rightful King, Aegon the Second.

The Dance of the Dragons had begun to churn, when you were still nothing more than a child, however it progressed well into a few solid years throughout your adolescence, only for your father to come out victorious against his treacherous half-sister and her family of “bastards and traitors”, as he spat. The Gods had answered your endless prayers, regardless, rejoicing in success.

Once the Dance had reached its end, you had transformed into a young, modest woman, of the age two-and-twenty. Your handsome father, fifteen years your elder, conceived you during his own youth, robbing him of freedom and instilling responsibility instead, likewise with your dear mother. You had always been plagued with the pestering thought of feeling like a burden unto the young couple, as their firstborn, however your father reassured you otherwise, that you were nothing more than a blessing to him, otherwise.

Regardless, the fearsome battles determinedly fought throughout the decades, came at an inconceivable cost: the cost of the innocent, defenceless lives of your younger siblings who tragically perished in horrendous manners. Your late mother, Queen Heleana, wrought with mad grief and depression for the witness and loss of her babes, she could not bear the reality of life itself, taking her own life as a means to end her suffering.

Excluding yourself, you had no one else other than your grandmother, the Dowager Queen, who kept much to her seldom self these toiling days, isolated in her lonesome chambers, and your father...

Throughout the entirety of the ceaseless quarrels, your dear father had always ensured keeping a close eye and ear on you. Warmly reassuring your frightful self, that he would burn the world before any harm could be done unto you. He kept you close by him at all times, if he had not attended the battle himself on dragonback, Sunfyre close by your chambers, despite having a broken wing, with your own hatchling, Morghul, constantly beside you. It tore him to pieces when he made the harsh decision of having to entrust you to Larys and his unsavoury men, to sneak you off to Dragonstone where he would meet you eventually.

The most skilled guards posted ceaselessly hours on end, day and night, outside your chambers, not a single action went by without Aegon knowing, for all matters regarding your whereabouts went directly through him. During this time, you had solely instilled a perpetual trust in your father's decisions, that laid foundations in your bond with one another, which lingered even post succession of the war. It would be an understatement, that you had become heavily reliant on him, most of the time having been denied the autonomy to think and decide for yourself at such a young age, you grew to much prefer your father taking action, trusting him and only him with decisions regarding your own life. He was highly protective of you, in a way no lord nor knight of the realm could pledge and devote their lives to. You were his kin, his blood, his possession: you became his sole purpose and will to survive during the Dance.

There was, however, only one decision, you had ever made purely yourself, that would change the dynamic of the realm itself...

"Come, my sweet angel. Come to Daddy, and let me ease your mind..."

Despite the realm returning to some ounce of normalcy and peace, the nights you still endured adversity with. Troubling nightmares engulfed your slumber mind of the haunting memories of the Dance. Stirring you awake in a state of distress and panic, sweat beads drenched your forehead and mottled hair, your exposed, plump breasts accentuated in your silk, white nightgown, heaving with every haste and dense breath. Despite the adoring, relentless company of your dotting father by your side in bed, he immediately awoke in tune to your disruptive motions, persisting to remain awake, until he was assured you were comforted and sound of mind, lulling you himself back to sleep.

"Baby, sit on my lap. That's it- Another nightmare, my love?"

"Y-Yes, father."

"I know the feeling all to well, precious... Do you wish to speak about it?" Aegon huskily uttered, as his rough hands gently whisked away the odd strands of hair out of place, his other hand caressing soft circles at your lower back.

Since his heroic return from battle, despite the brutal injuries sustained, and since recovering, your father found himself constantly at your side, even in the late hours of the night. He dared not to trust many despite promisingly pledging fealty to their King, Aegon could only open up to you without the reason of duty, intimidation, or responsibility binding him to you. He wanted you. Since losing Helaena, despite never having been openly romantic with her, he had lost a companion, and had always considered you more of one than a daughter, as you grew wise with age.

Your strong-willed father had always been a man with brawn, unlike your late Uncles, Aemond and Daeron. Aegon was portly and having been raised by him, you grew familiar with his shameless, gluttonous habits. These habits exacerbated during his recuperation, as the maesters including yourself had taken to encouraging your father to eat copiously, often hand feeding him yourself with generous amounts of delicacies, rationalising that it was to regain pure sustenance.

You took pride in his recovery, aiding the maesters to heal your father back to good health, he openly stated that it was your devoted presence and love that made him whole once more. Deep in slumber with milk of the poppy to ease the pain, only he could hear your sweet, angelic voice in the blissful distance, yearning for him. Your gentle touch, as you religiously applied naturopathic ointments to his fresh, raw burns, that eventually healed his scars. He soaked in your warm presence thoroughly, mirroring your reliance on him, he too, became deeply infatuated with you.

Since becoming a mature woman, having grown into your Valyrian-esque features and physique, Aegon saw you in a fairly different light now. You noticed by the manner in which his violet, stern eyes lingered over your body for far longer than what was used to, even if it was for a few, fleeting seconds. You became a distraction in council meetings, as he vowed to have you attend, even if you were merely a cupbearer, standing aside though in proximity of him, a mere shadow: his unfazed attention oogled over you, his mind pondering over lustful, sinful thoughts, only to be beckon called back to reality by the repetitive call of his title, your Grace.

You had always admired your father, and believed there was no man that could exceed the expectations he set in stone… You were made for him, as he had sought to it himself. Blood of his blood, the Gods kept you both alive for a reason, you had discreetly believed.

"I do not wish to speak of it right now... I just need you to hold me, just for a little while," You weakly whispered with a shaky breath. Aegon, with a new found strength, a fuller and sturdy frame, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap, as he laid himself back to rest against the wooden bedframe.

"That's okay, my sweet girl. It will get easier, I promise..."

Adjusting yourself atop of Aegon's wide, meaty thigh, as you gripped and rested your head against his broad, fleshy shoulder, the friction stirring as your bare cunt grinds against his clothed thigh, slowly igniting a familiar, throbbing ache between your inner thighs.

"Hmm, how will it get easier, Daddy? Will you make it easier?" You utter, your lips lightly grazing over his plump cheek, gently guiding his head to turn in your direction: eyes inevitably meeting, your lips passionately crash against his. Aegon does not resist in the slightest, relishing in the kiss, as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, swallowing your taste, before his teeth teasingly bite and pull at your lower lip.

"I can distract my baby. Give her a pleasure no other man in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms can. I'll give my princess the finest treatment she deserves... But only if she listens and obeys her Daddy, like the good girl I know she is."

"Mhmm, yes, Daddy-" A helpless plea closely mistaken for a moan escaping your mouth, Aegon's pudgy hands, steer your legs to spread apart: you find that you can only spread wide enough to saddle one thick thigh at a time. Without needing to spell it out for you, you begin to sway your meek frame, rhythmically bucking your hips backwards and forwards, as Aegon harshly yanks your gown up, enough for your bare cunt to be completely exposed more thoughtfully, and in contact with his thigh.

"Deeper baby, you know you need to push yourself deeper or else I can barely feel you on top."

With haste obedience, you try to plunge your weight deeper against him, your arms embracing Aegon’s stocky frame tighter. His swollen, bloated gut pressing flatly against your own chest, earning a sensual growl from your father.

“Good girl… My good, little princess. Going to listen to every word Daddy says, so I can make her feel so much better.”

Your whimpering moans, and slow nods in agreement, as your head instinctively rocked back, eyes closing with pure pleasure, you could feel Aegon’s rough hands exploring your waistline, before one snaked behind your spine, keeping you steady by a careful grip on your neck. The other began to tug and pull at the silk strands of your nightgown, loosening the knot, to expose more of your obvious, ample cleavage.

“Look at how beautiful you have become. My little princess is not so little anymore, such a divine grace, a woman. No other beauty roams the Earth, as you do.”

The outstanding appraisal oozing breathlessly from Aegon's plump, blush lips, echo in your thoughtless mind with intense gratification. Treasuring each word, he worshipped you dearly, often placing you on a pedestal as great as the Iron Throne itself.

"Yes Daddy, t-tell me more."

Your helpless moans begin to sob from your mouth, filling the void of the vast room, other than the faint crackling of the dying fireplace. Your eager pace quickening, feeling the burning sensation erupt from the friction against your tender skin. Your body leaned forwards with Aegon's generous shove, as he in turn plunged his handsome face between your sensitive breasts. Feeling his lips trailing across your soft skin, hungrily suckling and lapping down to your nipple, as his other hand playfully massaged and kneaded at your other tit.

"Does princess want Daddy to fuck her stupid? Make her so full of me, she'll be dripping, begging for more, for nothing to be spared? All the princess needs to do is ask Daddy, like the polite girl she is."

"A-Aeg-"

"Words, princess. My cock isn't even inside you yet, and you're already hopeless. Didn't I teach you to use your words?"

"Hmm, Daddy, I-I need your cock, I-I need you inside of me, p-please."

Incoherent, you knew how weak and feeble you felt against your father, a formidable man, both inside and outside the confines of the bedroom.

"My beautiful baby, using her manners, makes her Daddy so, so proud. How did I get so lucky, being blessed by you?"

"D-Daddy blessed me."

Your hands clawed their way across his muscular shoulder blades, nails sharply dug into Aegon's bareback, as he often enjoyed sleeping shirtless, his natural body warmth radiating from his scarred body. Now one hand snaked its way into his short, unkempt hair, avidly tugging at his silver strands, begging for more.

"Easy baby, so needy for her Daddy, huh? Never change baby, Daddy's always going to take care of you okay? No one can take care of you, like I have..."

"N-No one. Daddy protects me from cruel monsters, a-and evil men. I-I could never leave, D-Daddy."

Groans and growls pooled from Aegon's lush mouth, as his tongue teasingly lapped and pulled at your perky nipple.

"My perfect princess. That's right, baby... Now, you ready to take Daddy's cock? I'm feeling pretty big, princess. You've been getting me as hard as Valyrian steel."

His hand found yours, firmly guiding it down to where his stiff, rigid cock throbbed densely with enthusiasm, beneath his pants, desperately aching to be taken.

"Y-Yes... Only I deserve Daddy's cock."

Rightfully earning a low, jovial chuckle from Aegon, scoring his mutual amusement and agreement, nodding to your proud notion.

"That's right baby... Only you."

Heaving himself and you atop with such vigour, you aided Aegon in pulling his pants down, as his cock sprung into full action. The sight made you shiver and whimper instantly, how its reddened tip flashed in the dim light, with pre cum already oozing generously from the raw tip. His length modest, its width had always been a wondrous vision. Regardless of the preparation or the amount of times you had taken Aegon before, you could never quite adjust to his glorious girth.

"Easy baby, that's my good girl. D-Don't be afraid, I got you. You can take it, I know you can. Making Daddy so, very proud."

Carefully positioning you atop, as you began to gently settle down, the sharp jolt of pain, as its tip etched between your silk folds, made it subtly easier for him to slip his full mass in.

"Wet for me already, my cock's practically drowning baby... So tight for me, my sweet princess. I can feel you swallowing up my fat cock."

Witlessly yet diligently, bobbing up and down on Aegon's lap, as your father vigorously thrusted his heavy mass upwards, craving to shove himself deeper into your slick folds.

"Good girl, Y/N. Daddy's going to fuck you so hard, fill you up to the fucking brim with my seed. Want to carry Daddy's babes, like a good princess? Make Daddy so proud, huh?"

"Y-Yes, I'll do w-whatever Daddy says, whatever D-Daddy wants. Anything to m-make you proud."

The rough texture of Aegon's battle-torn hands, cooed and caressed at your back, one hand gripping your neck once more, keeping you steadily mounted against his body. His other hand, continued to firmly squeeze at your tender breast, almost mimicking a wringing motion, as though anticipating for milk to ooze.

"Making me the proudest Daddy in the realm, princess. But you are far from being done with your royal duties... I'm going to fuck you day and night, till I see your belly swell greatly with child, with our child... Not till we fill this entire keep with the future leagues of the Targaryen dynasty. And if anyone dares to question our customs... They can play the fucking fool and answer to me."

Aegon, in a breathless, heated rut, finally reached his almighty gusto. His fresh, hot seed spilling up into you, as it oozed out of your tight crevices, clenched around his achingly, pulsating cock. In turn, your cum released in a liberating gesture, pouring over Aegon's rigid, thick cock.

"Hmm, Daddy spoils me s'good. Blessed I am th-that you want me to carry your heirs. Blessed I am to be carry on your legacy, Daddy."

Just as you were about to dismount from Aegon's sturdy lap, and tense cock, still stretching out inside of you, did you feel his strong embrace pulling you back down, keeping you situated over him as you were before.

"Daddy's not done yet, princess... I told you, I am fucking you endlessly till I see this belly-" His palm lightly grazing over your lower stomach in circles.

"-swell and these beautiful tits, leak with milk as I knead and suck. I will fuck you day and night, till you reek of my scent, exhausted of pleasure, and drenched in my cum and sweat. Princess belongs to Daddy and the whole realm shall know of it. I won the war, and I shall win the heart of the realm... That is you, my angel."

The remainder of the night, into the sleepless, bright dawn of the morrow, Aegon had kept his rigid cock buried deeply, and warmly planted inside of you. As the hours nudged on, you could feel yourself repeatedly peaking inside, as did your father, growing more and more numb to the cramping sensation. Your wincing and whimpers did not go ignorantly unnoticed, as Aegon would lull you, praising how proud he was of you for taking him so well. The only time he released was to clean up the god awful mess strewed across the sheets, and the minor bleeding pooling from your inner thighs.

In the morrow, he commanded the servants to fetch you a warm, floral scented bath, with the condition that he bathe you himself. Breakfast was brought to you directly, as you remained bed bound resting and recuperating.

"Now it's Daddy's turn to take care of his princess. Just as you took care of me during those dreadful months. My sweet, precious angel never left her Daddy's side, like an obedient, loyal girl. And Daddy will never leave you, okay."

Words had spread like wildfire, as your belly and tits had swollen healthily with a growing babe inside. The maesters to confirm and seal your fate, Aegon and yourself could not have been happier. Despite the relentless, whispering gossip alongside the timid side glances, no one dared to speak against Aegon's decision to marry you lawfully in tradition of your Valyrian customs, otherwise. Blessing the King a long-awaited, hearty male heir, the prophecy his late father often uttered about in his ill, deluded state: Aegon believed the Prince that was Promised, would emerge from his bloodline, thanks to you.

credit for dividers - @/saradika 🤍