#cole x alyssa | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

novaursa · 4 months ago

Note

Hii can I request Aegon ii x Reader ( Rhaenyra daughter) in which they have a good relationship, even with all the family feud they find comfort in one another …. They had an agreement that every time one felt overwhelmed they would sneak into an old secluded library in the Red Keep (no one knew that place existed) and lay by the fireplace simply talking and comforting each others in a makeshift bed …. and on the night Aemond lost his eye they were together and shared their first kiss but in that very moment Ser Criston Cole walked in searching for them and dragged them to the driftwood throne room while Aegon begged Criston Cole not to tell his mother because he didn’t want to lose the only person who actually saw him for who he was (cuz he thought that was the reason for them being dragged so harshly) ….. but after that rumours spread that they where been intimate …. they tried to send letters to each other during those years apart after the incident but they were never answered …. and on the day of Luke’s petition they tried to talk to each other but every time they were near someone always interrupted but they eventually find each other in front of the fireplace in that old library reaching for each other letting only their bodies talk (Aegon is not married he refuses to marry and Alicent is going insane)

I’ve read all your stories they are just so good and so well written truly amazing they make my day ❤️❤️ and sorry for any mistakes english isn’t my first language 🫰

The Kiss

- Summary: After years of being forbidden to each other, you and Aegon finally find the moment to be together.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Explicit 18+

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

- A/N: 💕

The air was heavy on Driftmark, the scent of salt and sea thick in your lungs. The somber weight of Laena’s funeral clung to the air, casting a long shadow over the island. The soft rush of the waves was the only sound, save for your own breathing and the gentle hum of Aegon’s presence beside you. You sat together on the rocky shore, far from the others. The dim moonlight bathed the coastline in a silver glow, turning the ocean into a shimmering, endless expanse.

Aegon’s hand rested lightly against yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles with a gentleness that contradicted the image most had of him. Here, away from the politics and pressures of the court, you saw him for what he truly was—vulnerable, weighed down by the expectations of his mother and the crown he didn't want.

“I hate it here,” Aegon murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost lost beneath the sound of the tide. “All the eyes… watching, judging. Waiting for me to fail.”

You turned to look at him, your heart aching at the sadness in his voice. “You’re not failing. You’re surviving.”

Aegon’s lips twisted into a bitter smile, his eyes still fixed on the dark horizon. “Surviving… barely. And what am I even surviving for? A crown I never asked for? A throne I don’t even want?” He sighed, his frustration palpable. “Mother says I should be married by now. To strengthen our claim, to make alliances, but—” His voice cracked slightly, and his gaze shifted to meet yours. “I can’t. I won’t.”

His confession hung in the air between you, laden with meaning. You both knew why. A silent understanding had always existed between the two of you—one that transcended the conflict tearing your families apart. Despite the bitterness between your mother and his, you had always found solace in each other. An unspoken agreement that this—whatever this was—would stay between you. No crowns, no alliances, no duty. Just the two of you.

“Why don’t you leave?” you asked quietly. It was a question you’d never dared to ask before, but here, with the moonlight and the solitude, it felt right. “Why stay and fight for something you don’t want?”

Aegon hesitated, his eyes flickering down to your hands intertwined in the sand. “Because of you,” he whispered. “If I left, I’d lose you too.” He finally met your gaze, and in the moonlight, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the raw honesty that he rarely let anyone see. “You’re the only one who actually sees me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words pressed down on you, and before you could think, you leaned closer, your heart racing in your chest. Aegon’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head, his breath mingling with yours as the space between you shrank.

And then, just as the tips of your noses brushed together, you kissed. It was soft, tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then, Aegon’s hand cupped the side of your face, and the kiss deepened, slow and warm, filled with the unspoken words you’d both been holding back for so long. The world around you seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of you, the waves crashing softly in the distance.

But the moment shattered abruptly.

“Prince Aegon!” A sharp voice cut through the quiet, and you both pulled apart, breathless, your hearts pounding in unison. Ser Criston Cole stood a few feet away, his expression stern, his eyes narrowing as they flicked between the two of you. “The Queen demands your presence.”

Aegon’s face drained of color, his hand still resting on your cheek, as if he could shield you from what was about to come. “Ser Criston,” he began, his voice tight with panic, “please, don’t tell her. Don’t tell my mother.”

Ser Criston didn’t reply, but his grip tightened on Aegon’s arm as he hauled him to his feet. He reached for you next, and though you tried to resist, his hold was firm as he dragged both of you toward the Driftwood Throne room. Aegon stumbled alongside you, his breath ragged. “She can’t know. Please—” His voice was nearly a plea now, desperate.

“You don’t understand, do you?” Ser Criston’s voice was low, harsh. “This isn’t about you two. This is about something far worse.”

Your mind spun with confusion, heart still racing from the kiss, and now from the fear of what awaited you inside the throne room. When Ser Criston shoved the doors open, the scene inside made your blood run cold.

Aemond stood at the center of the room, blood streaming from the place where his left eye had once been. He was trembling, furious, with his hand pressed to the wound. Your brothers, Jace and Luke, stood opposite him, bloodied and bruised, while Baela and Rhaena glared from the side, their faces streaked with tears. Queen Alicent was pacing, enraged, her eyes blazing with fury. Your mother stood beside her, her expression dark and thunderous.

“What in the name of the gods happened?” Aegon whispered, his earlier fear forgotten in the wake of the scene before him.

Alicent whirled around at the sound of his voice, her eyes narrowing at the sight of him—and you. “Where were you?” she demanded, her voice sharp as a blade. “While your brother was mutilated?”

You could see the hurt flash across Aegon’s face, but he said nothing, his gaze flicking to Aemond, who met his eyes with a steady, defiant stare despite the pain.

“Tell me,” Alicent growled, advancing on Jace and Luke, “who did this? Who is responsible?”

It was then that Aegon’s hand found yours again, a silent anchor in the storm that raged around you. Whatever had happened, whatever horror had transpired, you knew in that moment that you would face it together.

But you both also knew—this was just the beginning.

The air in the Red Keep had always felt oppressive to Aegon, but now it was stifling. Ever since that night on Driftmark—the night Aemond lost his eye—rumors had spread like wildfire. No matter how hard he tried to avoid them, the whispers were everywhere: Aegon and his niece had been seen together, alone by the shore, and far too close for mere comfort. The gossip only grew worse, fueled by the tension between their two families. It seemed like every shadowy corner of the Keep hummed with talk of betrayal, of impropriety, of scandal.

Now, standing in the dimly lit confines of his chambers, Aegon felt the weight of those rumors press down on him like a suffocating blanket. He stared out the window, the evening sky over King’s Landing streaked with deep purples and reds. His mind wandered to her—to the last glimpse he had of you on Driftmark, before the chaos had erupted, before everything fell apart. The memory of your kiss lingered on his lips, bittersweet and aching, a reminder of what he could never have.

The door behind him opened with a sharp click, and he knew, without turning around, who it was.

“Aegon.”

His mother’s voice, cold and edged with fury, echoed through the room. He didn’t respond immediately, his grip tightening on the windowsill. He had been waiting for this—this confrontation, this inevitable reckoning. He had avoided her for as long as he could, but it was only a matter of time before Alicent cornered him.

“Aegon, turn around and face me.”

With a resigned sigh, he did as she commanded, leaning back against the windowsill, his arms crossed. His mother stood in the center of the room, her posture rigid, her expression a storm of emotions—anger, disappointment, fear. Behind her, Ser Criston Cole hovered near the door, his eyes sharp, ready to intervene if necessary.

“I have heard the whispers,” Alicent said, her voice low and controlled, though her hands trembled slightly as they clasped in front of her. “The rumors. About you and…” Her voice faltered for a moment, as though saying your name aloud would give the scandal even more weight. “…her.”

Aegon’s chest tightened, but he said nothing. He knew his mother well enough to understand that she wasn’t looking for a confession��she was looking for a denial, for him to tell her that the rumors were nothing more than slanderous lies. But he couldn’t bring himself to give her that satisfaction.

“Aegon,” Alicent stepped closer, her voice taking on a pleading edge, “tell me the truth. Did anything happen between you and Rhaenyra’s daughter? Did you… were you intimate with her?”

Aegon’s jaw clenched. His mother’s eyes bore into him, searching for any sign of the answer she wanted, but he remained silent, his gaze flicking to the floor. He didn’t want to lie to her. But he couldn’t admit the truth, either—not when admitting it meant acknowledging feelings he didn’t fully understand himself.

“Answer me!” Alicent’s voice rose, frustration lacing her words. She reached for him, gripping his arm with surprising force. “Do you know what they’re saying about you? About our family? This could ruin everything. Your claim—our position at court—it all hangs by a thread, and you—” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “You cannot be reckless. Not now. Not when we are so close.”

Aegon’s gaze finally met hers, his eyes dark, stormy with emotion. “What difference does it make?” he said, his voice hollow. “Whether I deny it or admit it, they’ve already made up their minds. They’ll believe what they want to believe.”

Alicent’s grip on his arm tightened. “It makes all the difference in the world, Aegon. If you deny it, if you make them believe it’s all lies, we can salvage this. But if you—”

“I won’t deny it.” His words were quiet but firm, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Alicent recoiled as if struck, her eyes widening in shock. “What?”

“I won’t deny it,” Aegon repeated, his voice growing stronger. “And I won’t admit it, either. What happened—what didn’t happen—it doesn’t matter.” He pulled his arm free from her grasp, stepping away from her. “They can think what they want. They always do.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, and Aegon could see the war raging in his mother’s eyes—part of her wanted to scream, to lash out, but the other part, the part that had spent years playing the intricate game of court politics, knew that she couldn’t afford to lose control. She needed him to bend, to obey, but Aegon had long since grown tired of bending to the wills of others.

Alicent turned her back on him, her hands trembling as she composed herself. “You are playing a dangerous game, Aegon,” she said, her voice quieter now, but no less filled with warning. “You could lose everything.”

“I never wanted it to begin with,” he muttered under his breath, but he wasn’t sure if she heard him.

After a long pause, she spoke again. “Do you understand what this means? If the rumors continue, if people think—” She stopped herself, turning to face him once more, her expression hard. “We cannot afford a scandal like this. Rhaenyra will use it against us, against you. She already hates you—this will only give her more power.”

Aegon’s eyes darkened at the mention of his sister. “Rhaenyra doesn’t care about me,” he said bitterly. “None of them do. And if she knew—” His voice faltered, his heart aching at the thought of you. “If she knew how I feel, she would never let me see her again.”

Alicent’s expression softened for just a moment, but it was fleeting, replaced quickly by the mask of duty she had worn for so long. “You cannot let your feelings cloud your judgment, Aegon,” she said softly. “Not now. You have a duty to your family.”

He laughed, though there was no humor in it. “Duty. That’s all any of this is, isn’t it? Duty. And what about me, Mother? What about what I want? Or does that not matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Alicent said, but her voice lacked conviction. “But you are a prince. You cannot live like the rest of us. Your desires must come second to the needs of the realm.”

Aegon shook his head, turning away from her. “I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being the perfect son, the perfect prince, doing everything for everyone else while I get nothing in return.”

Alicent took a step toward him, her voice softening. “You are not alone in this, Aegon.”

But Aegon didn’t feel comforted by her words. He hadn’t felt anything close to comfort since the night on Driftmark—since he last saw you. He had tried to write, sending letter after letter to Dragonstone, each one filled with words he didn’t know how to say aloud. But you never wrote back. The silence was deafening, and he had no idea if you had ever even received them. If you still thought of him at all.

He was alone. Even in a castle filled with people, even with the weight of a crown hanging over him, he felt more alone than ever.

“Leave me,” he said quietly, turning back to the window.

“Aegon—” Alicent’s voice faltered, and she hesitated for a moment, before finally nodding. “As you wish.”

She turned and left the room without another word, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

And Aegon was alone once more. Alone with his thoughts, with the aching emptiness where your letters should have been, with the memory of your kiss still burning on his lips.

The sky over King's Landing was a muted gray as the sea breeze carried the scent of saltwater and the sharp tang of rain. You could see the Red Keep looming in the distance, its walls and towers rising like the teeth of a great beast, waiting to swallow you whole. As the ship glided into the harbor, you could feel the tension in the air, an invisible thread pulling tighter and tighter the closer you came to the capital.

It had been years since you had set foot in the Red Keep. Years since that night on Driftmark, when everything had changed, when the world had been thrown into chaos, and the distance between you and Aegon had grown wider and more unbearable with each passing day.

The letters he had sent had gone unanswered, not because you didn't want to respond, but because your mother had kept them from you. It wasn’t until much later that you’d discovered their existence—tucked away, unopened, hidden from you as a way to sever whatever connection remained between you and your uncle. Your heart ached with the weight of those lost words, of the time you could never reclaim.

Now, you were here again, standing in the belly of the very place that had always tried to pull you apart.

As your family made their way through the gates of the Red Keep, the familiar sight of the stone walls and winding halls brought a rush of memories. Every corner seemed to hold a fragment of the past, of whispered conversations, stolen glances, and unspoken promises. You wondered if Aegon had felt it too—the pull, the inevitability of what lay between you, even after all these years.

The formalities were stifling. As your family greeted the court and took their places, you could feel eyes on you—on all of you. Whispers buzzed through the crowd like flies, circling around the petition for Driftmark and the question of who would sit upon the Driftwood Throne. But your mind was elsewhere. It was on him.

You caught a glimpse of Aegon across the room, standing beside his mother and Aemond. His gaze found yours, and for a fleeting moment, the years between you seemed to vanish. His eyes softened, just as they had the night on the shore of Driftmark, filled with that same longing, that same vulnerability. He shifted as though to move toward you, but then the crowd surged, and Otto Hightower stepped between you, pulling him into conversation before you could even take a step.

It continued like this for hours—every time you tried to get closer to him, someone would intervene, pulling either of you away for some matter of court, some interruption that seemed designed by fate itself to keep you apart. You exchanged glances across the room, but nothing more.

By the time the evening feast began, the tension between you was unbearable. You could feel it, buzzing in the air like electricity, pulling you toward him even though the distance between you seemed insurmountable. The noise of the hall—the clatter of plates and the murmur of voices—faded into the background, and all you could think of was finding him.

And then, by some miracle, you slipped away unnoticed.

The old library had been your secret place, hidden deep within the Keep, forgotten by everyone else. The path to it was worn into your memory, and your feet carried you there almost of their own accord, guided by instinct and a desperate need to see him, to speak with him, to touch him.

When you reached the door, you hesitated for only a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. And then you pushed it open.

The room was just as you remembered it—dusty, forgotten, the fire already burning low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the shelves of ancient books. And there, standing in front of the fireplace, waiting for you, was Aegon.

The moment he saw you, his expression softened, and a wave of relief washed over his features. Without a word, you crossed the room to him, your body moving as though drawn by a force beyond your control. When you stopped in front of him, there were no formalities, no pleasantries, no words. There was only the silence of two souls who had been apart for too long.

Aegon reached out first, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and that was all it took. In the next heartbeat, your arms were around each other, your bodies pressed together as if trying to make up for all the time that had been lost. His lips found yours, urgent and desperate, and you kissed him back with equal fervor, pouring all the unspoken words, all the unanswered letters, all the longing into that one moment.

His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, as if he were afraid you might slip away again. Your fingers tangled in his hair, the firelight casting an orange glow over the two of you, your breaths mingling in the heated air. There was no hesitation now, no awkwardness, only need—pure and raw.

Aegon’s lips left yours, trailing down your neck, soft and searing, and you let out a quiet gasp as your fingers fumbled with the clasps of his tunic, your body trembling under the weight of his touch. He made quick work of your own garments, his hands rough but gentle, his breath coming in shallow pants as he undressed you with the same urgency that burned in your veins.

Before you knew it, you were on the floor, the soft furs beneath you a makeshift bed, just as it had been all those years ago. The warmth of the fire was nothing compared to the heat between your bodies as Aegon hovered above you, his eyes searching yours, filled with a tenderness you hadn’t seen in anyone else.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Tell me you still want this.”

Your answer came not in words, but in the way you pulled him down to you, in the way your hands grasped his shoulders, the way your lips sought his with the same hunger that had lived inside you for so long.

And then, finally, there was no more distance between you. His body moved with yours, slow at first, testing, finding a rhythm that spoke of years of waiting, of needing. His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your shoulders, your chest—and each touch sent a shiver through you, a reminder that this was real, that after all this time, you were together.

It was a dance, your bodies entwined, moving as one, the rest of the world fading away until there was nothing left but the two of you, the crackling fire, and the sound of your breath mingling in the stillness of the old library. You clung to him, every kiss, every touch, a promise that neither of you would ever let go again.

And when the world finally stopped spinning, when the storm of passion subsided, you lay together by the fire, your bodies still pressed close, your hands still entwined. Aegon rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin, and in that quiet moment, you knew that whatever happened next, whatever chaos or politics awaited you in the daylight, you had this. You had him.

No one could take that away from you. Not anymore.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon x y/n #aegon the second #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader

386 notes · View notes