#aegon targaryen x modern!femalereader

[arcielee]

Date With the Night

Summary: Aegon is obsessed with you and will do anything to keep you for himself. Paring: AegonTargaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 2763 Warnings: Masturbation, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, little bit of spit, and p in v.  Author's Note: Okay. So, this is going to be a short series set within the same timeline as Aemond and his Modern!FemaleReader. Thank you so much @f4ll-for-you​ and @squirmhoney​ for being my beta readers, my muses ♥  I hope you all enjoy! Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess​​ @babygirlyofthevale​ @randomdragonfires​ @httpsdoll​  Series: Call It Dreaming 

You were unsure how to explain to your friends that the heartbreak that your suffering seemingly evaporated overnight. The only one with any insight as to why was your roommate; she had burst into your room with smiles, wanting to verify that you finished the water she left you and her eyes rolled over you with the compliment on the collection of love bites that Aegon somehow left on your skin.

It did not make sense, you could not comprehend how your subconscious literally fucked away the name of whatever asshole you had dated. You slipped into the bathroom attached to your room and looked over the marks that decorated your neck and your chest.

You decided the day would be for recovery, nursing the slight hangover you had with lots of water, and that night you curled up to fall asleep, only to wake up in the dimly lit room that clearly belonged to a king. 

Aegon Targaryen and he was a man obsessed.

The morning after, he mourned his empty bed, rolling towards the side you had slept on and drinking in your fragrance, his mind recalling the softness of your skin and the hint mixture of something floral with vanilla. He felt drunk on the memory of you and fucked his first to completion, with your name spilling from his lips like a fervent prayer. 

That evening, he called a Cargyll knight to accompany him to scrounge every inch of Flea Bottom; Ser Erryk made a face, but could only agree with a reluctant, “Yes, your grace.” 

They slipped through every alley, visiting every brothel and stopping every whore in search of you, only to return to the Red Keep empty handed. Aegon felt defeated, refusing Lord Larys’ offer of any cunt within the kingdom. Instead, he wished for quiet and for wine, demanding the pitcher to be left for him. The handmaiden was quick to fill his goblet and leave the king; he sensed her trepidation but he had no appetite for flesh or food, so instead he drank. 

This is how you found him. 

You were confused at first, but brightened at the sight of Aegon. He had been sulking in a chair and straightened when he heard you say his name, the sweetest sound to his ears. His pupils swallowed the lilac of his eyes as they washed over your figure, hidden beneath an oversized shirt that was barely long enough to touch the peaks of your thighs, your face flushed with your smile. 

He bound from the chair like a man starved, pressing against you and his lips crashing against your own. “You came back to me,” he moaned and your tongue curled into his mouth, tasting the same bittersweet wine as before. His large palms roamed your curves, falling to your hips and grabbing into them, crushing you closer to his chest. 

Your sigh was as sweet as your voice and Aegon adored how your body reacted to his touch, to his kiss, how you arched against him until you were flushed against his chest. His face nuzzled into the curve of your shoulder to your neck, the feeling of his lips, of how his teeth bit into the flesh sent the shiver of goosebumps that rippled over you. 

“I must taste you,” he hummed into your neck, between his sloppy kisses. He took a staggered step backwards, dragging you towards the bed. “I must have you,” he nearly whined. 

His palms were warm and clammy when they grabbed onto your hips again, twirling you to face him, a quick kiss to your lips before he pushed you back against the mattress. You were gleeful, a giggle spilling from your lips that stopped when you noticed his stare. 

You pushed up to your elbows and looked at him. “What is it?” 

Aegon looked at you for a moment and his tongue wet his lips. “Tell me, what are these called?” he groaned the question, his fingers reaching to touch the thick lace of your thong you wore underneath your nightshirt. 

You giggled again, remembering how he lusted over your modern underwear the last time. “It is a thong,” you told him, reaching to grab the hem of his shirt and pulling him until your lips nearly touched. “It is a kind of… undergarments, from my world.” 

His brow quirked like an internal debate to question the latter half of the sentence. However, lust won over in that moment once he felt the lace beneath the pads of his fingers and he surged against you, his hot mouth finding your own. 

You moaned into the kiss as he deepened it, an urgency to taste you and his tongue clever. His hand grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, your nipples pebbling in the cool night air. You lay back onto the bed and his lips set to worship your body, his large palm cupping your breast to latch onto the soft flesh leaving a flush of pinks and reds as his mouth continued over your curves. 

His fingers curled into the lace and he carefully pulled away your thong, dipping forward to trail kisses towards your center. You feel the shiver of pleasure run the length of your spine, blossoming at the base and its sinuous spill into your lower abdomen from the tentative licks of his tongue. He moaned into your cunt, drunk off your taste that was as intoxicating as your scent.

You whined with the stretch of his finger, then another added, curling within your warmth wet and pressing deep within. You mewled in response, trying to shift your weight, but his other palm clasped onto your hip to hold you in place, his eyes dark and watchful with his probing, searching until he found that sweet spot that caused your eyes to roll into the back of your head, your back arching into his fevered touch. 

Aegon hummed and finger fucked you to the precipice of your release; you nearly cried when he pulled away, the flutter of your velvet walls as you watched him lick his fingers clean. “I wish to feel your pleasure,” he murmured darkly, unlacing the ties of his trousers, “but only around my cock.” 

“Aegon,” you breathed and he leaned forward, his lips silencing you and you felt his length pressing against the softness of the inside of your thigh; you moaned at the touch.

He hovered over you and his smugness displayed on his wine stained lips, then tilted his head forward to allow a line of his saliva to break from his mouth and onto your cunt. You whimpered when his fingers pressed to mix his spit with your arousal, his hand then grabbing his shaft and his head running the slickness of your folds, relishing with how you squirmed beneath him. 

“You are beautiful,” his voice was low, lust laden, “with how desperate you are for my cock.” 

You moaned as he sunk into you, the stretch, his girth that filled you so completely. “You take me so well,” he murmured. 

You felt his hold on your hips and his pace was brutal; his hips snapped against you, his eyes watchful as you unraveled beneath him, wanton with your cries and clenching with your peak. Aegon pulled back with a guttural groan, the pearly ropes of his own release across your stomach. 

There is almost a tenderness with the after care, how he peeled off his shirt and wiped you clean. His hands would not leave you, out of his desire for you but also out of fear that you will leave again, which you assumed that you would. 

But you returned the following night and the one after, unsure as to what brought you to Westeros but eager to fall into his arms again, enjoying how they wrapped around your abdomen, crushing you against his body, his pleading whispers into the soft divot beneath your jawline, “Why must you leave me? Why can’t you stay with me?” 

His lovely lilac eyes are red rimmed from the lack of sleep with your late night rendezvous as well as the wine you knew he over indulged as he waited for your return. There was the fraying desperation that boiled beneath his skin as he struggled, and failed, to keep his hold on you in King’s Landing. 

“Aegon,” your voice is soft, gentle to remind him, “I do not belong in your world.” 

“Neither do I,” and he meets your lips with a crushing kiss that draws the very breath from your lungs, as if you are the lifeline to his own sanity. 

Each night would end the same, the insatiable fucking that left a delightful ache between your thighs and him so cuntstruck but still in want for more. He would pull your bare body against his own beneath the covers and sprinkled kisses over your features, you giggling with how it tickled partnered with his end of day stubble. 

For him, every sound you made was musical. “Stay with me,” he begged again. 

Your fingers rested on his jaw, your thumb pressing gently onto the mole on his chin. It was an exhausting topic between you both, one where you could not even give any insight as to how you ended up here to begin with, or if it was even fucking real. Every night was spent entangled in his embrace and the next morning you would wake back in your bed, naked and missing yet another pair of your underwear. 

Instead you kissed him and he responded hungrily; his large palms pulled you closer still and you felt how he hardened once again, how it pressed into the softness of your stomach and the trill of pleasure that curled in your core. You shifted when his arm snaked around your abdomen, pulling your backside to be flushed against his bare chest and his cock pressing against your ass.  

Aegon nuzzled into your neck with sweet kisses, the warmth of his tongue that ran from the curve of your neck to your earlobe, a soft nip as his hand dipped between your thighs. “So wet for me already,” his exhale was warm and tickled your skin. 

The pads of his fingertips moved with familiar precision, knowing your intimate touches and he relished with your visceral response, your breathy sighs. You moved your hips back to press against and he bit into your shoulder, his groan a low vibration and it made your skin rise. His hand moved to slip his length between the warm flesh of your thighs, a rhythmic rubbing against your slick slit. 

It was slow, allowing him to caress every inch of your body, pulling you so close you felt his heart beating against your backside. He pushed against your entrance and you gave a shuddered sigh; his palm had its hold on your hip and the steady thrust of his hips until he sheathed inside you, his breath bated between your shoulder blades and your mewled cries in response to how he hit that sweet spot within you. 

That next morning, Aegon woke up and saw that his bed was empty and his frustration spilled from his seams, throwing the bedsheets aside, storming around his chambers as the servants scampered underfoot, trying to help him begin his day. His skin felt agitated, aflame with the touch of their hands and he barked at them all to leave the room, then a bellowed demand that he must speak with his brother.

Aemond will know what to do.

Instead the Lord Commander came into his room and informed him that Prince Aemond had left yesterday for Harrenhal and had yet to return. 

His witch, Aegon remembered. 

Sunfyre soared above the Red Keep and westward until he heard the roar of his brother’s dragon. Vhagar was waiting on the shores of the God’s Eye, the large, reptilian eyes watchful as he abandoned his dragon and moved inside the castle, following the thick smell of sage that led towards the throne room. He found the witch perched on the throne, with a mortar cupped in one hand and a pestle in her other; there was a white chalked design that stretched in front of where she sat.

Her eyes were bright beneath the smeared, dark kohl and her painted smile was almost knowing, as if she expected him to show. “My king,” she almost purred. “How may I be of service?” 

Aegon balked for the words, unsure of where to begin. “I am looking for someone,” he finally said.

“And she is not of this world?” She finished with the curl of her lips, pushing from the cracked throne and moving past him, towards a large oak table to set down her herbs. 

His brows raised in response but he remembered something Aemond had mentioned about her, she sees much and more. “I am unsure where she is or how I can find her…” 

Her Riverland accent was thick and cut him off, “I would need something of hers, to find your woman.” 

Aegon pulled out a pair of your laced underwear, unabashed, and Alys just watched him, her eyes blinking slowly before she took it from him and dropped it onto a marble slate. “My king,” she searched through the collection of glass vials, plucking one filled with a lavender powder that she sprinkled on top of the fabric; there was a small burst of flame and she continued, “I know she is not of this world. There is a portal, something bridged between our world and hers. I cannot allow it to stay open, as my path is meant for this change of events, so you will not have long to return–” 

“I will not be returning.”

She stopped and looked up to see his eyes that now burned with a renewed passion, his want for you. “I am unsure where Aemond is,” he continued, “but I need you to give this to him.” And he removed the conqueror’s crown and placed it on the table, amongst the vials of her makeshift alchemy. “He was meant for this role and I trust he will be a fair king until Jaehaerys is of age.” 

Alys said nothing, but only hummed as she returned her attention to the table and picked up a piece of chalk. She kneeled to the cobblestone and moved her arm to retrace the lines; when she finished, she faced him as she wiped her hands together. “Once you step through this portal, you will be unable to return to Westeros, my king.” 

“Yes, you mentioned that already,” his tone was irritable with how she repeated her words, presenting it as if he was making a poor choice or her form of judgment.  

In truth, it could be viewed as such, but it was a choice that was his to make. The weighted responsibility was heavy on his shoulders, always unwelcomed, always unwanted with how it affected every aspect of his life. Growing up, he often shirked the burden to his brother, with the hopeless dream to sail away to Pentos, Issos, somewhere, anywhere across the sea to be rid of the politicking of King’s Landing, his damn Targaryen bloodline. 

Instead, he had been dragged to the Iron Throne and the ancestral crown placed on top of his head curled his spine with the weight of the duty, the expectancy that gleamed in the rubies that decorated it. Even after the war was won, with Rhaenyra and Daemon tried and executed, he found what he said remained true: he had no wish to rule, no taste for duty. 

He was not suited for this life.

Aegon knew this was the better option for all involved. He would leave and allow his sister Helaena the peace she wished for, as she did not desire him or their false marriage, and he hated the forced action that was required for the sake of an heir to the Iron Throne. His mother would grieve, perhaps, but soon she would gloat when the crown was rightfully placed upon Aemond’s head; he was meant to wear the crown, he had shouldered the lessons and the responsibilities, and Aegon knew this. 

And Daeron, well, he could not really remember much of him anyway. 

“Please tell my brother that this is for the best,” Aegon watched the witch. 

Alys nodded, the shimmer of her glossy, dark hair with the deft motion. “Of course, my king.” 

He stepped forward and left Westeros behind. 

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x modern!femalereader #aegon targaryen x modern!femreader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #hotd au #call it dreaming #date with the night

[arcielee]

Pay No Mind

Summary: Modern!FemaleReader has a delightful sex dream. Paring: AegonTargaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 2077 Warnings:  Hints of voyeurism (thank you honey for this), oral (male receiving), p in v.  Author's Note:  So, this did not win the poll results, but gods help me, it was in the lead for a while, so I took initiative and started writing this. But then, the poll ended and it did not win. Anyway, here is this one-shot you technically did not ask for. ♥ A huge thank you to my beta readers @f4ll-for-you @aspen-carter @squirmhoney Seriously, I cannot thank you enough for your time to read over, share your insight and criticisms to help me be a better author.  This is going to be a one-shot, but who knows? It is me, after all. A feral raccoon with a keyboard.  Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess​ Series: This is a one-shot in the same AU as Call It Dreaming

It had to be a dream, or perhaps all the champagne your friends filled you with that night, but either way you could not deny what you saw in front of your eyes.

Aegon fucking Targaryen.

He was seated on a settee that was placed in front of his bed, wearing a silk robe that was spilling off his shoulders; one of his hands was gripped onto the velvet edge while his other tangled into the red curls of the faceless girl, who was on her knees and seated between his thighs. 

You watched them with bated breath, your eyes wide to take them in.

The lewd sounds, the bobbing of her head was indication enough of the fellatio he was receiving. Aegon was beautiful, but his inattention was apparent. His head peered down at her, his silver waves spilling and framing his pale features, a contrast to the dark circles beneath his eyes. There was the hint of a smile, a half-hearted hum that spilled from his mouth as an encouragement for her to continue, and his gaze looked up and fell to you. 

And then you saw it, the glimmer of his beautiful lavender eyes, followed by a smirk that splayed onto his lips.

His eyes remained on you and he grew louder, almost obscene with his groans and in return, it renewed her vigor with the act. His smirk spread and he bit into his bottom lip; his eyes did not leave you until he tightened his hold on her curls, her choked gag mixing with his guttural goan.  

You could not tear your eyes away from the carnal act, your own arousal pooling between your thighs and your tongue wet your parted lips. You watched the bob of his neck, how his head tilted back as he almost laughed with a visible shudder of his release. Then his attention returned to you and you felt your thighs clenched with anticipation. 

Aegon stood abruptly and the red head fell back; the front of her gown had been torn open and her breasts spilled as she fell onto the cobblestone with a squeak of surprise. He then reached to grab hold of her tresses and dragged her towards the door, his eyes still mindful of you.

“Your grace?” She gasped, staggering steps to keep with his gate. 

He said nothing to her and reached for the handle, opening and pushing her through the door frame; you heard her cry out again as she spilled into the corridor. 

You were unable to see who he spoke to when he commanded, “Return her to wherever she came from and no one else is to disturb me.” 

Aegon then closed the door, turning to face you and reaching for the sash to knot around his waist; his robe remained open at his chest and his chiseled, pale planes peaking through. “Well, little minx,” he moved towards you, close enough for you to feel the breath of his words. “How did you manage to get into my chambers, unseen?”

It was a valid question. Only earlier, your friends announced it to be a girl’s night, a new beginning to wash away the remnants of the heartbreak from a messy break-up you had been dealing with for the prior month. You showered and did your make-up, agreeing to wear whatever outfit they picked out, which was the black dress you wore in this moment, that held to your curves like a second skin and included the lace thong you wore underneath. 

Your grief had you living in sweats and a baggy shirt, rewatching House of the Dragon with an emphasis on episodes eight and nine. “You cannot just pine away for some fictional man, bitch,” your roommate said to you, pulling you out from underneath your makeshift nest of pillows and blankets. “You need a shower and you need to go out and get fucking laid.” 

You had begrudgingly agreed, mostly since it felt an eternity since your last proper shower. She rallied your emotional support, she picked out your outfit, she picked out your shoes, and she even made sure you always had a drink in hand. It had been fun; you danced to your heart’s content with your friends, but kept your distance from anything male that dared approached. When your feet ached she even paid for your Uber home. 

“Text me our code when you are home,” she said, tucking you into the car and helping you with your seatbelt. “Drink some water and rest, bitch.” 

You remembered getting home, making sure to text once you were inside, this bussy arrived alive, and you stumbled into your room, struggling to maintain your balance in your black, sandal heels. 

When you had looked up, that’s when you had seen him and that woman; and that’s when Aegon had spotted you.

“You are an exquisite beauty,” he pressed closer and you felt the warmth radiate off his bare skin, smelled the bittersweet wine that stained his lips rosy. 

There was a shuddered pleasure that washed over you with the look in his eyes and how they rolled over you; goosebumps rose over your skin that showed. This isn’t real, you reasoned with yourself. It’s the mixture of the break-up and alcohol that clearly has me hallucinating this beautiful blonde man.

But this hallucination seemed palpable in the moment and your breath hitched with his touch, as his finger trailed along the neckline of your dress with a devilish grin to his lips. 

You could hear the echo of your roommate in your head, get fucking laid.

Embolden by his words, you touched his chest and peered up at him through your eyelashes; he tilted his head to meet your lips with a fervent passion. You reciprocated, enjoying the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips; you moaned softly and could taste the bittersweet wine as his tongue curled into your mouth. You sighed from the subtle tremor that flitted throughout your body, until it was a tingle in the apex of your thighs and they clenched in response to his clever tongue. 

His palms were large and warm through the satin fabric of your dress, trailing your sides and stopping at the small of your waist; his fingers gripped onto your hip bones, pulling you to mold against his body and more goosebumps rippled over you. 

“As much as I appreciate how this fits to you,” he said in-between kisses, his mouth moving from your jawline and then latching to the nape of your neck, his teeth biting and his hands palming your satin covered curves. He pulled back, “I much prefer to see what is underneath.” 

You were flushed from the kisses and the champagne that still bubbled in your veins; you pressed your hands against his chest with a sultry whisper. “Allow me to show you, your grace.” 

You turned until your back was towards him, the backside of your dress low enough for your fingers to find the zipper and pull it to show him how it could be undone; you giggled when you felt his fingers quickly grab and pull it down the rest of the way. You looked over your shoulder, relishing in his wide eyed expression as your dress pooled around your ankles and you were only wearing that lacy thong. 

Aegon swallowed, his finger trailing the waistband before he finally met with your eyes. You saw the hunger in his gaze, how the black of his pupils swallowed the color of his iris. 

You turned around to sit back onto the bed, reaching to remove one heel; he was quick to kneel and remove the other, then pressing to climb on top of you, his arm curling around your waist and pulling you up onto the bed, until your backside was flushed against his chest. You giggled at his eagerness, the sound trailing off as his fingers began to softly trail your curves and pressing against your clothed cunt. 

“So wet for your king already,” he growled into the shell of your ear, his breath tickling. 

He slipped beneath the lace with the slow circular motion of his digit to find your pearl, his touch sending a tremor throughout your body; your head tilted back against his shoulder, a soft moan spilling from your lips. 

You could feel his smile and he pressed against you, his half-hard cock pressing against your ass, matching the slow rhythm of his wrist movement. His mouth was hot as he bit into your shoulder, and then your neck, and you moaned as your pleasure pooled between your thighs.

There was a rip of fabric as he tore away your underwear, his now hardened length slipping between the softness of your thighs, his cock rubbing against your wet folds. His palm moved to shift you and align himself at your entrance, sheathing himself into you.

You whimpered with the delicious stretch as he filled you completely. His groan was low and his head fell forward, nestling into the back of your neck and he began the languid motion of his hips, as if to savor your velvet walls. “Gods,” he praised, his breath tickled still. ”It is as if you were made to take my cock.” 

His pace quickened, his fingers biting into your hips bones and rutting into you until the tremors of passion began to spread throughout, towards the peaks of your thighs. You felt him slip, with a curse and a cry combined on his lips and you moved, quick to climb on top of him.

Aegon watched as your straddled him and reached to curl your fingers around his girth, a tight hold between your thighs; his eyes followed the line of spittle that you allowed to leave your kiss swollen lips and spilled onto his flushed tip, his eyes fluttering when your thumbs moved to rub it over the head. 

You lifted your hips and lined him with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself and gasping softly once he was completely inside you again. Your fingers pressed onto his chest, balancing yourself as you rolled your hips and watched his head tilt back into the pillow, how the rose color spilled from his cheeks and to his chest, where your hands were placed. 

His palms were clammy as they reached to cup your face, bringing you forward until your hair curtained around, finding your lips once more. Aegon lifted his lips upwards to meet with your motion and you clenched in response, his moan vibrating against your mouth. He broke the kiss, his hands moving to hold your hips and he began to rut up into you. 

You met his pace, making a soft noise as he reached that sweet spot within; your eyes watched his brow furrow above his beautiful eyes, his one hand slid and pressed into the inside of your thigh, his thumb in-between the top of your folds; you mewled when he found your pearl, his motion matching the rhythm of his hips.

You felt your pleasure begin to crest, the building coil of warmth in your lower abdomen from the touch of his palm pressed against, his thumb flitting back and forth. Soft sighs accompanied the flutter of your velvet walls, your cunt clenching and you felt his thrusts grow sloppy with his own release. 

Aegon pushed himself to sit upright, one arm to brace himself while the other wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, his lips touching your own softly. He rolled until you fell to the side and then he pulled you towards his chest. “Your grace,” you whispered against his skin. “I should be going…” you started, even though you were uncertain how to even leave. 

“No,” his voice was already groggy and he reached to touch your chin, tilting your head upright for another kiss. He then nuzzled into your hair, “I wish you to stay so you may serve your king in the morning.” 

You could feel his smile once more and your cheeks grew warm with his words; you remained where you were, unmoving until the sunlight creeped in. You felt like your skull was splitting and pushed from the pillows to see you were in your bed and that you were completely naked.

What a weird dream, you thought and saw a bottle of water placed on your nightstand with a note attached to it.

Hydrate, bitch.

Arcie’s Masterlist

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x modern!femalereader #aegon targaryen x modern!femreader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #the poll results are in #and i wrote this instead #call it dreaming #pay no mind

[arcielee]

Call It Dreaming

Author’s Note: Here is the masterlist of my Call It Dreaming series ♥ Just a convenient one stop for you all, my tumblr kindred spirits.  Update: Added the Aegon lucid dream! It may become a short series, we’ll see. Dividers are by @firefly-graphics​

Aemond Targaryen

Taste of It - part 1 Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: You have a delightful sex dream. Warnings: Smutty smut, fingering, choking, language, p in v.

+ + + +

Where is My Mind? - part 2 Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader   Summary: Modern!FemaleReader’s subconscious has ruined her pussy. Warnings: Smutty smut, masturbation, little bit of spanking, oral (fem receiving), p in v, language, drinking.  

+ + + +

Each Coming Night - part 3 Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: Is this the real life or is this just fantasy? Warnings: Smutty smut, smidgen of knife play, fingering, oral (female receiving), some spanking, p in v.

+ + + +

The Past and the Pending - part 4 Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: Aemond will find you and bring you the fuck back to Westeros. Warnings: Smutty smut, possessive Aemond (you know you love it, I do too, no judgement) dubcon, oral (female receiving), fingering, p in v, all the goodies.

+ + + +

Just a World Away - part 5 Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Summary: Modern!FemaleReader has a choice to make. Warnings: Smutty smut, oral (male a receiving, female receiving), dubcon, possessive Aemond (since you all loved it, but you can call me kettle).

Aegon Targaryen

Pay No Mind - part 1 Summary: You have a delightful sex dream. AegonTargaryen x Modern!FemReader Warnings: Hints of voyeurism (thank you honey for this), oral (male receiving), p in v.

+ + + +

Date With the Night - part 2 Summary: Aegon is obsessed with you and will do anything to keep you for himself. AegonTargaryen x Modern!FemReader Warnings: Masturbation, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, little bit of spit, and p in v.

arcie’s masterlist

#call it dreaming #aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader #taste of it #where is my mind #each coming night #the past and the pending #are all songs from my playlist called indie sleeze #except for the finale #just a world away #thanks for reading #♥ #updated 5/5

[arcielee]

We've Got Everything

Summary: Your boyfriend cannot sleep and looks for some help.  Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Word Count: 768 Warnings: Smutty smut, p in v, then fluff.     Author’s Note:  I am really inspired by the series The Intern by @f4ll-for-you ♥ Like, I loathed Aegon but now I keep writing one shot drabble based on this modern Aegon who is golden retriever after he successfully completes rehab and gets the therapy baby girl desperately needs. This is dedicated to her because her writing inspired this and I just adore you so much. ♥ (Also, thank you for helping me edit your gift. You are too good to me.) It is in the same modern AU from Sigh No More, but can be read as a one-shot. Enjoy! Tags (my Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon​ @annikin-im-panicin​

The soft glow of his mobile screen woke you. 

Your face was mushed against his shoulder, your mouth open with a bit of drool in the corner, and your arm was draped across his bare abdomen. A soft groan escapes as you shift yourself to pull away and Aegon is quick to set his phone on the nightstand. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers, turning to face you and his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you back. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

The bedroom is still dark and you don’t dare to ask for the time. “Looking at a phone screen won’t help you,” you grumble, allowing him to pull you until your head rests on top of his chest. 

“Maybe you can help me then,” his tone is playful and he pushes to roll on top of you, settling between your thighs. His soft lips begin to pepper kisses along the junction of your shoulder and to the curve of your neck; goosebumps ripple over your body in response.

Aegon propped himself on his elbows, caging you in, and he began to gently rock against you, still somewhat soft but it rubs against your clothed cunt in a way that blooms warmth in your center. 

A soft moan spills from your mouth at the pressure, the warmth beginning to curl in your lower abdomen. Aegon smiles into your neck at the sound. “You are so soft,” he moans, his teeth soft against your flesh and his lips trailing to your chest; his one hand cups your breast and his hot mouth latches, suckling to leave fresh love bites before pulling his head back and he blows softly, your nipple perks in response.  

“Aegon,” your voice is low, breathless, and your face warm with his touch, your underwear wet with your arousal. 

You love the touch of his hands, the welcome warmth of his palm that follows the curves of your body and pushes into the softness of your hip, his fingers finding the waistband of your underwear and trailing to your center. He pushes the wet fabric aside to line his tip with your entrance and you cant your hips upwards, cradling him to your hips; he is mindful of his thrusts, gentle against you. 

Your moans are in tandem with the delicious fill of his cock inside you. Aegon pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his girth and then he rocks into you. Propped on his elbows, your chests are flushed together and he groans, his head pressing into your neck and his hot exhale eliciting new goosebumps all over you.

He paces himself, in rhythm with the sweet sounds that spill from your lips until you feel the flutter of your cunt, the first waves of pleasure. Your nails bite into the dimples of his backside and you whisper, “Aegon, please.”

He is at your command, his hips snapping against you and the suction of your wet warmth clenches with your climax. His groan is low, baritone in comparison to your mewls, and you can feel the twitch of his cock with his release. Aegon melts against you, his arms caged around and his lips touching your collarbone; you feel him soften but he remains inside of you and everything is perfect in that moment. 

Your skin prickles with his exhale. “That is exactly what I needed,” he murmurs against your throat. “Goodnight.”

“Aegon,” you giggle and you can feel him smile again before he pushes up and disappears into the bathroom. You can hear the faucet run for a moment and he eventually returns with a warm washcloth, careful to peel off your wet panties and run the insides of your thighs. You sigh with his touch; he folds it and brings it to just graze your nipples, his soft blow makes them pebble in the morning air. 

When he sees you peer at him, his grin is wolfish. “I’m being thorough,” he explains, his eyebrow raised and you giggle again. 

The washcloth is put in the dirty clothes hamper and he curls into you. His arms wrap around your waist and you welcome his warmth, the comfort of being flushed against his bare chest. Aegon nestles into your hair and you feel a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.

In the quiet, early hours of the morning, your breathing falls in tandem with his, your exhale with his inhale and vice versa. You begin to slip into the unconscious, lulled to sleep with another gentle kiss to your spine, the whisper of his words, “I love you.” 

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #modern aegon #smut and fluff #short and sweet #hotd modern au #aegon targaryen fanfic #exuding tom glynn-carney bf energy #thanks for reading #♥

[arcielee]

Sigh No More

Summary: You are having a bad day and your boyfriend makes you smile.  Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Word Count: 606 Warnings: Implied sexy times, but this is purely fluff.   Author’s Note: This is a short piece for a pick-me-up for my tumblr bestie @f4ll-for-you​ ♥ I appreciate what you have helped me with, like you have no idea. I wrote my Modern Aegon is more golden retriever after he successfully completely the rehab and therapy poor bb desperately needed. 

It was one of those days where you felt everyone was speaking in tongues and that it did not matter how you presented your thoughts, for they would just be misconstrued. It left you with a defeatist mentality, only wanting to escape from this reality and just return to the comfort of the apartment you shared with your boyfriend. 

That was the repeated thought as your steps brought you to the threshold, a small smile to your lips knowing that on the other side was your comfort and peace. When you open the door, it is the scent that welcomes you first: clean laundry, it seems, mixed with the flavors of your favorite cuisine. 

You round the hallway, following the soft noises from the television in the living room. You see Aegon on the couch, propped on his elbows on top of his knees and his brow scrunched with focus on the screen; there is a color combustion of the current first person shooter that holds his attention. 

“Ah, fuck it,” he falls back into the couch, his hand still holding the controller and a crooked grin across his face. He turns to look at you, his eyes bright. “Why do I play this when I fucking suck?” He asks with the smile that still makes your heart flutter. 

You can only give a weak smile in return though. “To escape reality?” You offer, removing your shoes and padding towards him. He is quick to set the controller down and reach for you, pulling you into his lap and he begins to cover you in exaggerated kisses on your face and neck, not stopping until a giggle finally erupts from you.

“Aegon!” You cry out, but your smile is not as weak as before.

He stops, leaning back against the cushions, his hands have a firm hold on your thigh. “You seemed in need of some kisses,” he shrugged, a roguish smile on his face. “Now, I know you came in and saw I was gaming, but I was only celebrating that all the laundry in our apartment has been cleaned and folded and put away,” he was grinning with pride. “I figured you were beat from work, so I just ordered some take out and we can maybe watch something, and then for dessert…” his eyebrows wiggle suggestively, but he paused when he saw your face. “Hey,” his voice soft, his palm reaching to cup your cheek. “What’s going on, pretty?”

You sigh and you know your eyes are glassy, your heart pressing against your chest. Aegon had unknowingly erased the awful day away with gestures that were so seemingly natural for him.

You fall against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and he pauses, allowing you to shift and melt against him before he wraps his arms around you, his hand rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades. His words are soothing, “It’s alright, you’re home and we can just relax…” 

You finally pull back and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Hmm, I think I want dessert first…”

“Yes,” he pulls back, his blonde hair in disarray and quick to to stand up, pulling you to your feet. “That’s a brilliant idea. Dessert first,” and he bent at the waist, pressing his shoulder into your lower abdomen to lift you up onto his shoulder. 

You give a mixture of a giggle and a shriek, squirming in his grasp, “Aegon!”

“Don’t worry,” he gives a solid smack to your ass and laughter spills from your lips. “I have you,” and he moves towards the bedroom, your giggles echoing throughout the apartment. 

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd modern au #aegon targaryen fanfic #short and sweet #just some fluff

[arcielee]

Alone, Together

Pairing: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader   Summary: You did not mean to get tipsy, but Aegon takes care of you.   Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of rehab, but this is purely fluff.   Word Count:  1619 Author’s Note: This was inspired by my muse @f4ll-for-you​, thank you for being my beta reader and helping me find structure to this. ♥ This was kind of foreshadowed with an exchanged look between Jace and Cregan in Wait So Long.  Just another continuation to my not-really-a-series series about modern Aegon. I write him as more of a golden retriever bf after he has successfully completely the rehabilitation and therapy that poor bb desperately needed. Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond​ @sirenofavalon​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @watercolorskyy​ @schniiipsel​ @sylas-the-grim​ @aemondx​ @fan-goddess​ @babygirlyofthevale​ @httpsdoll​ @theromanticegoist​

“How drunk do you think they will be?”

Aegon assumed very, especially after Baela took charge for the bachelorette celebration. Though you never really drank often, if ever, as you found the taste of alcohol to be too much unless craftily mixed to hide the liquor entirely, Baela would be well aware and nothing would stop her from celebrating her dear friend getting engaged. You felt hesitant, but Aegon smiled and gave you a kiss with the simple instruction, “Go, have fun.” 

You left with your friends and Cregan, Jace, the Cargylls and his brothers all came over to the apartment, an informal hang out while Baela sent updates throughout the night: the drag show you went to, the meal at your favorite restaurant, the farewell toast of fruity beverages to your single life. 

The proposal had been unexpected for only you. Aegon had purchased the ring when he left the center, knowing full well that life was done for him and that you, with absolute certainty, were his future. He hoped to create a romantic moment, but instead it came when he had opened the door one evening and saw you in the kitchen. You were wearing one of his shirts and mismatched socks, your hair mostly pulled back with your bangs framing your rosy complexion as you focused on the task at hand. 

“It’s pasta,” you called over your shoulder, before turning and allowing him to see the apron you wore over his shirt, how it cinched your slender waist and the access fabric that spilled over. “The sauce is simmering, but do you mind tasting it and seeing if it needs more–”

“Marry me.”

You met with his eyes and he closed the space between you, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest for a kiss that drew the breath from your lungs. When he broke away, you were stunned and still had your hand wrapped around the spoon you used to stir the sauce. “Aegon, what…?” 

“We should get married,” his smile stretched across his jawline, his eyes bright with his words. “If you will have me, I want you to be my wife.”

You stammered your response. “A-are you sure about this?” It was a subject you left alone, mostly because of the torment he carried from the dysfunctional relationship between his mother and father when his father was still alive, but you did not mind. You loved him, you always had, and you knew he was yours.

Aegon burned for you. “I am sure,” and he pulled out a velvet box to reveal a ring, taking your hand into his own and slipping it onto your finger. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Your friend group was thrilled that Aegon had asked, that it finally was happening, and Baela threw herself into preparations, while Aegon and the boys had a more relaxed approach to their evening. He enjoyed having everyone at the apartment, with the retro console Jace brought that refueled a rivalry since their childhood. 

Even Aemond came that night, bringing his usual quiet reserve; as they watched Daeron and Jace needle at one another, with Cregan trying his best to referee, Aemond pulled Aegon aside. “You seem really happy,” his voice low with the congratulations.

His smile beamed in response and he showed Aemond the latest photo sent of you laughing, gleeful. “I am,” and he wrapped his arm around his brother.

“She brings out the best in you,” Aemond added, his brow raised. 

“I like to think so,” Aegon wet his lips. “Be my best man?”

His lips curled slightly, the hint of a smile that Aegon always searched for and cherished. “Of course.” 

The night waned away and Aegon noticed his phone screen lit up with a text message, we have arrived. He announced it to his friends and they filed out of the apartment, in search of the drunken return of the girls, bounding down the flight of stairs. 

Out front he saw Baela and Rhaena trying to coax you from the car.

“Sweetie, we are home,” Rhaena kneeled in front of the open door, her tone honeyed. Aegon peered over to see how you were sitting crossed legged, holding your shoes and purse against your chest, your eyes wide and glassy. “Don’t you want to go upstairs?”

“I can’t,” your voice was small, tear laced, and Aegon watched you carefully, perched behind Rhaena’s shoulder. “I am so drunk, I cannot walk. I cannot…Aeg cannot see me like this.”

Aegon smiled to himself, touching Rhaena’s elbow, who graciously stepped aside. “Hey, pretty girl,” his low timbre was a balm to your boozed soul, your cheeks warming from his voice. “Come out of the car and let me take you back to our bed.”

You were embarrassed, shy almost, but reached for his hand and he turned around. “Be my backpack, hm?” he called over his shoulder and you wrapped your limbs around him like he was your lifeline. Baela gave a quick kiss to Jace, grabbing your purse and shoes to follow, with her promise to be right back. 

Aegon was careful with you, as always, and you nestled your face between his shoulder blades, enjoying the smell of fresh laundry and that cologne you had gotten for him. Baela grabbed each door and deposited your belongings on the kitchen counter, petting your golden retriever on top of his head, and calling goodbye over her shoulder when she left.

He placed you onto the couch and you giggled as Sunfyre tried to lick your toes; Aegon returned from the kitchen, shooing Sunfyre from your side and handing you a glass of water. “Hydrate,” he said, sinking next to you and watching as you took the glass, gripping it with both hands.

“Are you mad at me?”

His brow quirked with your question. “No, why would I be? Actually,” he gently touched beneath the glass and lifted it towards your lips, “please drink this and then answer me.” 

You took a comically large gulp and he could not help but smile again, but it faded quickly when he noticed your glassy eyes. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he asked as he took the half full glass from your hands and set it on the coffee table. 

“I did not want to be so drunk, Aeg, but they had strawberry,” your words babbled like a brook with your confessions, spilling from your red stained lips. “I only wanted to hang out with my friends and celebrate, but the strawberries were so tasty…”

Strawberry jello shots, Baela had warned him in the texts along with the following, my bad. 

The strawberry jello stained your lips, your tongue exceptionally pink as you continued, “I did not want to be drunk and come home…you have been amazing, Aeg, truly, and I feel like I am throwing it in your face!”

“Hey,” his voice was low, soothing, as he cupped your cheeks to bring your focus to him. “I’m fine, I promise you,” he smiled with his words, his thumbs wiping the large tears that spilled from the corners of your eyes. “I am 3 years sober and I have you to thank for that. You have seen me at my absolute worst and helped me through it. Now I have a moment where I can take care of you and your strawberry, giggling, crying mess–this is the least I could do.” 

You hiccupped again. “I’m a mess?”

You sounded childlike and Aegon could not help but laugh, bringing your face in and kissing you softly. “Yes, but you are my beautiful mess,” he paused for a moment, a playful grin curling on his lips. “Mrs. Mess, actually.”

You groaned but smiled, “Gods, Aeg, you are so cheesy.” 

“Ah, fair, but you remember that you said yes,” he reminded you, “so, you cannot take it back now.”

Your expression is almost somber when you look at him, your eyes wet and wide to take him in. “I never would.” 

The genuineness in your tone made him blush and his throat bobbed with a swallow as he pulled away to stand, reaching his hand back to take your own. “Come on, pretty girl,” and he pulled you to stand up, his other hand on your hip as you found your balance. 

You glowed with your smile towards him and he felt it permeate through his rib cage, curling with its warmth in his chest. He placed a hand on each hip bone and helped guide you towards the bed; there was a struggle to remove the dress that poured over your curves, but only after Aegon agreed to give you the shirt he was currently wearing. “It smells like you,” you explained as he peeled it off. 

You tried to kiss him, a deep kiss that would taste like strawberries, and as much as he wished to melt into you, he remained chaste with your advances, the inkling in the back of his mind that he would rather you be sober. Instead, he retrieved the glass of water, which you finished and then immediately announced that you had to use the restroom, and he waited outside the door to bring you back to the bed. 

He crawled beneath the covers and you curled against his chest, Sunfyre bouncing up and laying on your legs. Aegon drew small circles on your back until your breathing was steady, and he continued still; his eyes fell to your sleeping form, your features highlighted by the city lights that spilled through the blinds, and he could not stop the smile that curled on his lips with the thought, Mrs. Mess.

modern Aegon masterlist // Arcie’s masterlist

#modern aegon #aegon #aegon targaryen #hotd modern au #modern aegon targaryen x female!reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #this is just fluff #alone together

[arcielee]

To Build a Home

Summary: You are a broken soul and he can recognize it.  Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Word Count: 3083 Warnings: Mentions of household abuse, night terrors and coping with anxiety, but then there will be fluff, oh yes indeed.   Author’s Note: Huge shout out to @sirenofavalon​ for this request, it is absolutely brilliant and I just adored it. Thank you!  A huge thank you to @aspen-carter​ and @f4ll-for-you​ for being my beta readers, to Dais especially. You are my muse and I appreciate the ideas you poured into this story, to help me with the outline to create this piece. I cannot thank you enough for you being you. 💜💛 Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.  Taglist (my Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond​ @annikin-im-panicin​​ @watercolorskyy​ @schniiipsel​ @aspen-carter​ @aemondx​ @fan-goddess​

Helaena had the tendency to collect things; some were intolerable, like her entomology infatuation, and others were more manageable. At school, she was a beacon of warmth and acceptance, accumulating friends from every social group and often bringing them home. Some would stay for a while and move on, still friendly with hallway run-ins, but others needed a savior, an escape. 

Those were the ones who stayed, knitted at her side.

You were quiet as a result of growing up in a violent household, where the tempers were an unbridled heat that searched for any release. As a result, your steps were soft, your movements always slow; it was a skilled trepidation as you were unwilling, unwanting of any attention to be brought to you. 

Helaena had always been sweet enough to sit with you during lunch. You remembered when she sat at your side and asked about the book you were reading. Usually, it was a shield, a way to hide in plain sight, but her lilac eyes were kind and you bookmarked your place to talk with her. It continued through the week, she was always entertained with your summary or reviews of whatever book you had, the different genres of fiction that captured your attention, and you thought her bugs were both peculiar and fascinating. 

She invited you to spend the night and you were able to get permission, both a rarity and relief; that Friday, you waited with Helaena and her two older brothers for their mother, who she kindly asked for you to call her Alicent, to come pick you up. 

The ride was wonderful, as anything that took you away from your home was; you bonded with Aemond over a shared love of literature and learned that you and Aegon were in the same grade, though your schedules were off-kiltered as a result of him failing some classes. 

The Targaryen home was large and welcoming. You saw only one family photo and learned their father had died, but he was not grieved like a love lost, but it almost seemed to be an unspoken relief that washed over the household. 

The evening was spent sprawled in the living room, playing video games until dinner was ready; the meal time was spent in a raucous debate over what film would be watched before bed. Though it was good natured, you felt yourself begin to wither under the raised voices when suddenly Aegon announced it would be The Never Ending Story.

“It is a classic,” he said with a finality to end the discussion.

Later that night, Alicent was on the couch with Daeron, another and even younger brother, while the rest were in a nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor. It was your first real taste of a family setting and you fell asleep with a smile and the subtle ache knowing you inevitably would have to return home. 

–

Aegon was always a light sleeper; there was an inability to shut his brain off. His mind seemed to flit over anything and everything, which he did his best to explain to his father when he was alive, again to his grandfather, and was met with their adamant words that he was just not applying himself. 

He felt at ease, an unfamiliar but welcomed emotion, nestled amongst his siblings and you, the newest addition, each tucked away in a bundle of blankets on the floor. Aegon began to teeter the edge of unconsciousness when he heard it. 

A soft whimper, a quiet cry. 

He shifted to move, careful not to disturb Aemond or Helaena with her cocoon of pillows; he crept to where you were sleeping, or trying too. He saw your brows were knitted and your lips parted with another muted cry, tears catching on your lashes. Aegon was careful with his touch, just his hand to your shoulder and even this caused your eyes to open wide with fear, grabbing his wrist. 

“Hey, it’s just me,” Aegon whispered. “It’s Aegon and you’re staying at our house, remember?” 

You trembled with a visceral fear and it was something he unfortunately recognized; his mind flitted to earlier with the friendly discourse of what movie to watch, then to when his father was alive or whenever their grandfather would visit. Aegon moved to lay next to you and you shifted to curl against his chest; he made soft, soothing sounds that led into a melody, a few bars sung with his low timbre. He started another without you asking and did not stop until you drifted back into a more peaceful sleep. 

He hummed a bit longer, allowing his eyes to take you in with the dim lighting of the room. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, enjoyed the warmth of you pressed against his chest. He also saw the muted purple and green of your jawline, a healing bruise. 

Aegon was careful to pull away and retreated back to his pillows and blankets, still humming the song. 

–

The next day, you woke up to breakfast being prepared, the clatter of pots and pans, the low baritone of Aemond giving commands and Daeron’s higher pitch quipping back, and the musical laughter of Alicent over it all. You shied away to clean up in the guest bathroom, the careful application of makeup to hide what waited at home, before coming back to the hallway and bumping into Helaena. 

Your new friend has the warmest smile, something that glowed from the kindness that seemed to resonate from her. “Hey, I already asked my mother and, if it is okay with your’s, you are welcome to stay with us for the weekend. We can take you to school on Monday.”  

What you did not know was Aegon grabbing his sister, a hushed whisper of his concern when he relayed the nightmare you had, the injury he swore he saw. She listened, nodding her head and telling him, “I assume it was something. I’ll ask mom if she can stay with us for the rest of the weekend.” 

You learned that your family does not miss you, they only mind you when you are home; it was easy enough for you to stay away and it was expressed that you were welcomed to return, weekend after weekend. During the school week, you had lunches with Helaena and sometimes her brothers would stop by, though you would see Aegon checking in more often than Aemond. On Fridays, your bag was already packed and you would wait with Helaena and her brothers for Alicent to come and take you home. 

It was an unspoken gesture that the guest room became yours; Alicent showed you the cleared out drawers and closet space, her sweet smile encouraging you to leave behind a change of clothes or even your school uniform, whatever you would need to feel more at home. You struggled with the words to thank her and she gave you a hug, a way to say no words were needed.

The space intimately becomes your own and you are pleased to realize your wall is shared with Aegon and his room. The years continued, with secondary school nearing its end and with graduation looming, you and Aegon would spend more time together; he would slip into your room for a late night talk, your shared whispers of what was next to come.

You knew you slept better at the Targaryen’s than your own home, but your nightmares would still come with its sickening hold that sunk into your chest, with a fear that paralyzed you and choked your tongue. It was always the same, how you would run and run, without an end in sight, but aware that if you stopped, it would finally be able to sink its hold into you…

You woke up, in the spare bed placed in the spare bedroom that was unspokenly yours. You felt his warm touch, your mind clearing and allowing you to recognize the comfort noises from Aegon and you blushed once you understood you were in his arms, yet again. You trembled still, but it was a mixture of the lingering fear and newfound relief that the nightmare ended; you let out a shaky exhale.

His fingers curled under your chin and you tilted your head back to meet with his eyes. “Hey,” he smiled at you and you felt your blush deepen. 

“H-hey,” you stammered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was awake already.” 

It was something you had noticed, how restless he seemed to be in his own room. You wanted to ask what kept him awake, but instead you say. “Aegon, would you please sing my song?”

He shifted his weight, allowing you to reposition; Aegon laid on his back, his head propped on the pillow and you curled against his chest, like always. 

Helaena was your dear friend, perhaps your best friend, but Aegon was something special. With your frequent stay-overs, you learned that he would always be there when you woke up, wearing his warm smile with a song perched on his tongue; his soothing voice helped ease you back into reality, a sung promise that in this moment you were safe within the walls that held you. 

His songs were uniquely his own, his voice amazing, like a balm for your broken soul. It was what was needed to lull you back to sleep, without the terror when you closed your eyes, but this time, you forced yourself to remain awake. “Does your family know you sing like this?” You whispered into his chest. 

You can feel him shake his head and you peered up to see the tussle of his silver locks. “This is something only for you,” and he smiled, pulling you closer to his chest. 

Aegon smelled rich, but you knew it was a cologne that Alicent picked out and it mixed well with the scent of clean laundry and his own comforting scent. You wrapped your arm around his stomach, nestling into the warmth he always seemed to exude; he tensed at first, then exhaled. “I never recognize what you sing to me,” you continued and it is something of a question. 

“It’s the music that plays in my head,” is his vague answer. He always shied away when you complimented his natural talent, always groaning or blushing whenever you praised his singing. 

“Is the music what keeps you up?” 

He hummed a noncommittal reply, so instead you shyly request him to sing you another song and, as always, he obliges you. You can feel the vibration where your head was laying on his chest, his voice able to bring you back to sleep. 

You always slept soundly at his side. 

–

Graduation comes and you both have enrolled into the same university, but by your own means; Aegon has his trust fund and you, proudly, have your scholarships earned. You shared your concern about finding a place to stay and he was quick to suggest that you roomed with him, since his grandfather was paying for his housing as a means for redemption. 

The Targaryens were always gracious to you and seemed aware of your home life, though you never dared breath a word about it; you should have known he would offer. 

You hesitated; to be his roommate would be effortless, your friendship had grown over the years and his presence allowed you to feel comfortable, made you feel safe. The two of you shared a bond, something his family was aware of but only Helaena would dare tease you; in truth, you cherished the friendship, but you found yourself wanting something more and were too afraid to ask for it. 

Aegon was undeniably handsome, with his bright eyes and his smile that filled the width of his jaw, his mussed silver locks that framed his face. Though he never seemed interested in anyone, the thought lingered with you, he will inevitably get a girlfriend, and then what would you do? 

You swallowed that thought and agreed to it; to celebrate, you purchased him a small, leather bound journal and left it with a note on his bed, in his new room: 

A place where you can store your music and maybe find some sleep.

Together, you both create the apartment into a space that is all your own. Your schedules are listed and you both make sure to recap your days, relishing in each other’s victories. When Aegon came home with a guitar in hand, you glowed with your excitement, the idea of what he would create next. 

His laughter was a sound that filled your chest. “I don’t even know how to play it yet!”

“Yes, but you are talented and brilliant,” you argued, your cheeks rosy from your smile. “So I trust you will be amazing.” 

His talent seemed natural enough and the acoustic sounds complemented his voice in a way that you now craved. Your nightmares were not as frequent, but it seemed to be replaced with an anxiety that had you in a chokehold; it came with the stress of your courses and you pushed yourself to maintain the grades needed that allowed your scholarships. 

Aegon always seemed aware when it began to grab ahold of you and he would be in your door frame, with his guitar in hand. You smiled and moved to your bed, allowing him your seat, and he would show you what he had been learning, his voice able to loosen anxiety’s grip. 

“Aegon,” you sighed one day. “You really should play the next time they do an open mic at the coffee shop. You are so talented.” 

“That is your opinion,” he grinned in return, setting the guitar to lean against your desk. “Maybe if I had a cult following, all who shared your opinion, I could make something with it.” 

“A cult following would be easy enough,” and you meant your tone to be teasing. “Honestly, you can easily get any girl you want, if you actually tried.”

The silence was heavy, almost palpable between the two of you; it was something you had never experienced with him before. It was supposed to be a joke amongst friends, but you wished you could scoop up the words and swallow them. 

He watched you, carefully, his beautiful eyes seemed to trace over your features, but you assumed he did not wish to meet with your stare. You were holding your breath, unsure if you needed to break the silence building or allow him to do it, and it went too long.

Aegon stood up, one hand combed through his silver waves and the other pulled the leather bound journal you gifted him, setting it on the desk. He did not say anything, but instead grabbed the guitar and retreated to his room, leaving your door open. 

You looked at the journal and your eyes trailed to the now empty door frame; you waited for him to come back. He doesn’t and you push from the bed, reaching to pick it up and standing still, debating on what you should do next. 

His handwriting fits him, a cursive hybrid scrawl of letters, as if he struggled to keep with the thoughts that spilled from his mind to the paper. You find every page was nearly filled, front and back, with a poetry pose that flowed; the subject, his words had a theme and the realization had you crimson. 

It was you. 

You fell back to sit on the edge of your bed, thinking and replaying every intimate moment shared, how it transcribed to his written words and how you had been blind to understand the meaning behind his words sung. You classified what you two shared as friendship, frightened to try for something else, especially when it had seemed unattainable before, but now…

The one consistent thing was that Aegon was your peace, he was your comfort personified with his beautiful, bright eyes and the smile that would pluck the strings of your heart with every song he had ready on his lips. You appreciated him and you were scared to ever ask for something more, to push him for something and he would pull away and be lost to you. 

You now held his journal, in his own words you finally understood from his perspective, he was the one carrying feelings that were unreciprocated but he had contentment to be a friend for you and nothing more, if it allowed him to forever be a part of your life. 

Your grip ached your fingers, a renewed passion that burned away the anxiety that hid in the shadows, and you stood up again, your each step determined, but still soft. His door was closed, but you see his light is on and pooled below; your nails gently tapped and you heard his muffled acknowledgement. 

Aegon was laying face down on his bed, his face buried in his pillow but he twisted to face you. His eyes met with yours and he was quick to sit upright, a look of recognition to his features.

He always seemed to be so aware of you.

“Aegon,” you breathed, a smile on your lips and the realization you had no word prepared with your semi-grand entrance. Your eyes looked around his room, an organized mess to his belongings and his scent touching everything. You realized you always allowed him into your space, but never asked to venture into his own. 

He pushed himself from the bed and moved towards you, watchful of your response as he drew closer. 

He was always astutely aware, respectful of your boundaries that you set with your subtle mannerisms. He saw your stance, how your hands were white with the hold on his journal, how your tongue wet your lips as you struggled for the words. “I… need to get you a new journal. This one is nearly full.”

His smile is warm and kind, as always. “I always have inspiration, so I am full of ideas.” 

You hummed. “Could I… I always sleep better with you at my side. Do you mind if I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Aegon looked at you and your heart melted within your chest, unable to collect itself when he closed the distance between you. His hands were careful to cup your jaw, rough from the calluses of guitar strings but still gentle, and he pressed his lips to your own.

#aegon targaryen #modern aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #modern hotd au #sweet aegon fluff #to build a home

[arcielee]

Wait So Long

Summary: You are trying to surprise your boyfriend and it does not work out like you had planned. Pairing: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader   Word Count: 2279 Warnings: Implied sexy times, but this is purely fluff. Author’s Note: Here is another part of my series-that-isn’t-really-a-series. This is a collaboration piece I did with the darling, talented @f4ll-for-you ♥ Her work is amazing and I cannot thank her enough for her help with this piece! And a shoutout to my amazing beta reader @foxee-d-or.  Taglist (my Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aspen-carter @aemondx @fan-goddess​ @babygirlyofthevale​ @randomdragonfires​

“Yeah, I know, Cree, but I keep telling you and Jace that I fucking suck at this game,” you heard Aegon whine into his headset, animated with his hands and wielding the controller as an emphasis to his words. “And, yet, I still play with you all, only to be verbally abused by you cunts-” his eyes rolled over and he saw you. 

One of the many things you cherished about your relationship with this man was his ability to read you like a book, to such a degree he seemed more aware of the emotion you were feeling before it registered with yourself. Aegon moved in a fluid motion, beginning with the words, “Hey, I’ve got to go right now,” before he tore off and abandoned both the headset and controller on the couch; he pushed from his seat and moved towards you, his brow furrowed with concern.

Then you felt it, the tears that spilled from the corners of your eyes and bunching your lashes together. You did not know when it started, perhaps the frustration that had been building since you first took on this contract role, something you have been adamant about six weeks prior.

In the beginning, you saw his hesitation, but you coaxed him into believing it was a good idea, and in theory it had been. You promised him this job would allow you to polish your portfolio and you promised to quit that customer service role you currently worked. You explained your excitement to finally do something with your damn degree and how you could use the extra money to upgrade your equipment.

“I can buy you new equipment, though,” he had argued and you vehemently refused, continuing on about your independence, how this was your career, your passion.

And he listened to your every word, watching you in a way that was so uniquely him and you loved him for it: the slight tilt of his head, how his lips pursed together when he was not quite yet convinced, how his lavender eyes moved back and forth with your presentation. 

“Only four weeks?” was all he had asked when you were done. You swore yes. 

Now you were on to your seventh week, dealing with a client who was unhappy with everything you presented, with their ceaseless revisions that kept prolonging the contract; yes, the pay was nice, but you were unsure if it was worth your sanity.  

In truth, you did want to utilize your degree and this opportunity would allow you to be rid of the customer service role you had since uni, to finally transition to remote work life. You also had an ulterior motive: a gift for Aegon. 

He had always spoiled you and you loved him for it, but you were also frustrated that any gift you managed seemed to pale in comparison. “Babe,” he laughed the one time you tried to bring it up to him, “I’m a fucking trust fund baby. Just allow me to pay it forward, since you have already done so much for me as it is!”

This only made you all the more determined to contribute, as meager as your income seemed prior to this contract, but Aegon never breathed a word of complaint, other than he hated you being away from the apartment you shared. 

It was the selling point. “If I take this, I will quit that job,” your tone honeyed and your eyes doleful. “This way I can work at home and be with you.” 

But also, you desperately wanted to buy him a dog. 

The idea came from his friends, Jace and Cregan, when you had a moment alone to press them for an anniversary gift for Aegon. They hemmed over their words and finally Jace mentioned getting him a dog and Cregan nodded enthusiastically. 

“He sends us clips all the time,” he continued. “Specifically a golden retriever.” 

You squealed your excitement at the possibility to outshine your boyfriend gift wise. “This is perfect! There is no way he can top that!”

They had exchanged looks, but said nothing. 

Fate presented itself with a text from Cregan, letting you know his half-sister’s dog was pregnant from a dog park mishap, which also happened to be the same dog that began Aegon’s fixation on them. You texted Sara immediately and she offered your pick of the litter, letting you know her dog was about five weeks along. 

It felt like everything was falling into place: the contract job would finish a week after, you could take Aegon to choose his pup, then go to Cregan and Jace’s apartment to collect the pet paraphernalia you had been hoarding there. 

There was a moment when Cregan stopped by to grab the royal purple collar and leash, that Aegon happened to return home sooner than you planned. 

Your relationship had a rocky beginning, but through his rehabilitation came an unwavering trust between you both. You considered yourself lucky to have Aegon as your boyfriend in that regard; there was no hint of jealousy when he found Cregan at the apartment, but his confusion was apparent when he saw him holding the leash and collar. 

“I was showing her the collar,” his friend stammered. “I bought it for this…girl I am dating-uh, fucking,” Cregan had a white knuckled grip and you watched Aegon for his response.

“Uh,” he narrowed his eyes on him for a moment. “That’s good for you?” 

Cregan was quick to leave. 

Sara let you know the puppies had been born but that was four weeks ago and you were three weeks extended into this contract with the most unpleasable, nit-picking cunt clients. You wanted it to end; you had already sneaked away to pay the pet deposit and all that was left was to bring Aegon to be surprised by the litter, but instead you received your umpteenth email of revisions needed and it would damn you to another week of this never ending misery. 

At first, you felt confident when you accepted this contract; you always had a knack to gauge colors, pigmentation, and you were software savvy to pick up on whatever the client was using. The interview left you feeling like they would value your expertise, but instead the weeks whittled away at your self-confidence, having you second guess your every attempt to begin this damnable career. 

You thought to quit it all and just accept being spoiled by Aegon. 

“Hey, pretty,” you heard Aegon coo and it returned your attention to the kitchen. He was rounding the counter and moving towards your spot; you worked here because the lighting was what you wanted and you appreciated how it overlooked the living room, where the curtains were drawn and allowed whatever sunshine was available to pour in. 

Aegon would crash onto the couch when he knew you were at the end of your workday and you liked looking up from your laptop screen, exchanging glances with him. 

“What’s going on?”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder and you allowed your head to fall to his chest; silent sobs of your budding frustration wracked your body. You felt him tuck you under his chin, wrapping both arms around you, with the whisper of, “Come on, sweet girl, I know you need to cry, but remember to breathe…” 

The tears eventually subsided and he pulled you from the counter, bringing you back to the couch. He pulled you into his lap and held onto you still, while he hummed one of the many songs he seemed to have on repeat in his mind; his singing, his musical talent was a newer habit he discovered during his rehabilitation and was something you adored, along with his sobriety. 

When he finished his chorus, you pulled back from his chest and he reached to grab your chin, turning your head to meet with his eyes. 

“Quit the fucking contract,” he repeated, time and time again. “I will pay you whatever they will pay you and you can stay right here in my lap, but, you know, without the tears. Perhaps lingerie instead? It would be purely professional, of course.” 

Your laughter felt groggy from your tears and he moved his large, warm palm to wipe your face dry. “Aeg,” your voice cracked, but you could not help your smile. “I’m gross.” 

“Yes, you are,” he agreed with a smirk, wiping his hand dry on his jeans and moving to your other cheek. “Quit these cunts, they do not deserve you.” 

“But…” and you faltered for a moment, realizing it was best to come clean with your true intention with the job. “But I also wanted this because I have a surprise for you.” 

He groaned, falling back into the couch and pulling you against his chest. “How many times must I tell you that I already have everything I want,” and he wrapped his arms tight around your waist, nuzzling into your neck. “Must you make me repeat the cliches? That your presence in my life is present enough? That you, pretty girl, are my gift?”

You giggled and squirmed from his hold, the stubble on his jawline tickling your neck. You pulled back to look into his beautiful eyes and his wide cheesy grin on display. “I know, but I wanted to something more, give you something you really want-”

“I am dead serious about my contract opening,” he dead-panned. “About the pay and the underwear.”

You looked at him, his smile so contagious, and leaned forward to capture his lips with your own. His fingers combed through your hair, holding the back of your head; his lips felt warm and soft against your own, his beard growth tickling still. You giggled and he moved to rub his face against your neck again, goosebumps rippling over you.

“But what about a puppy?”

He stopped his movement and pulled back to take you in. “That was the gift?” The excitement bubbled in his voice, his eyes bright as they looked over you. “You were really going to get me a puppy?” 

You nodded, smiling from his reaction. “Sara’s dog had a litter and I already paid all the fees, I have been getting the supplies, then we would go and pick you out a new furry friend…” 

His hands cupped your face and he pressed a kiss to your hairline, then tilted your head back to find your lips again; you melted against his chest. “This is why you have been working this shit job?” He pulled away, his tone accusing. “I have been absolutely heartsore watching you slave away for these ungrateful swines who cannot tell the difference between azure or cerulean-”

“...you couldn’t either when we first started dating,” you remind him with a grin. 

He held up a finger. “True, but if I hired a brilliant graphic designer, I would listen to your expertise and learn.” You blush and he sighed, pulling you against his chest for another hug and it was your turn to sigh, loving how well you fit against him.  

There was a moment of silence and he continued. “A dog is a big responsibility and I would need your help,” he leaned forward and pressed his lips against your neck. “I am also not a fan of the stress they have been causing you, your anxiety has been in overdrive since this contract keeps being extended…” 

You sighed again and he shifted his legs, catching your chin to bring your eyes to meet with his own. “I know you want this for your career and I will support whatever you choose,” he began, his eyes wide and watchful, the hint of a smirk to his lips. “I feel I must repeat myself and let you know I will happily fund you to be my perfect girl.” 

You cannot help but roll your eyes, but giggled knowing that he would actually pay you to be a homebody, if it meant he got to be around you all the time. 

The evening was spent with your laptop off, your notifications muted, and cuddled up with Aegon while watching some TV show you had been binging together. There is comfort being curled up, a pleasant warmth shared that inevitably lulls Aegon to sleep and you listen to his soft snores. 

You were careful to pull away, creeping towards your laptop and reading the emails missed; not one included a thank you for your effort shown thus far, or any indication that your supposed contract would be over any time soon. Rubbing your eyes as if it would wipe away your frustration, you decided you had enough, that there were other jobs, other opportunities, and you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. 

After pressing send on your resignation email, you slammed your laptop shut and felt a mixture of relief and worry wash over you. The sound caused Aegon to stir, his sleepy eyes barely open. “Babe?” he sounded confused, almost delirious. 

“After careful consideration I have decided to accept your offer,” you joked, doing your best to mark the worry that brimmed beneath.

Aegon smiles, your words registering and waking him up. “Wonderful,” he breathed, pulling you in and sprinkling kisses over your face. “We start tomorrow with picking up our puppy,” and he giggled in a way that made your heart swell in your chest. “Then, we have to pick out a uniform…”

You giggled and grinned with how he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows, feeling a sense of relief washing over you and letting you know that you made the right decision; you could trust that, together, you would figure it out.

Arcie’s Masterlist // modern Aegon Targaryen masterlist

#mordern au hotd #aegon targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #this is just fluff #modern aegon targaryen

[arcielee]

Freedom Song

modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader   Summary: Your boyfriend impresses his family when you all go out for karaoke.  Warnings: Mentions of rehab, but this is purely fluff.   Word Count:  1284 Author’s Note: This story is dedicated to my muse @f4ll-for-you​ ♥ A huge thank you to her and @aspen-carter​ for beta reading this story. This idea was inspired by the lovely @foxee-writes​​ who was gracious to let me write this drabble. I just wanted to continue to add to my not-really-a-series series about modern Aegon. I write him as more of a golden retriever bf after he has successfully completely the rehabilitation and therapy that poor bb desperately needed.

For you, Aegon was an open book; he was animated when he talked, but with his silence, his mannerisms were flags to indicate what brewed behind his beautiful lavender eyes. 

You watched his hands and their blatant tics of agitation, from drumming his fingers against the inside of your thighs and how it evolved into the rapid bounce of his leg; he scratched the underside of his jaw, a seemingly ceaseless itch that came with the beard he was allowing to come in. 

He hated to be halted, so you did not rest your hand on his knee but moved to take his palm into your own, your touch gentle and it allowed his attention to return to the little lobby the two of you waited in. Aegon turned his head and you watched as his lilac eyes refocused onto you. 

“Hey,” you said with a smile.

His relief was visceral and he reached his other hand, interlacing his fingers with your own. 

We fit so perfectly together, he had said to you when he first held your hand, the memory of his words brought a rose color to your cheeks.

His own smile spread across and with his exhale, you watched some of the tension lift from his shoulders. “Hey,” he said back to you, the low crack of his voice. 

“We do not have to do this,” you offered him an escape. “We can always go home…” 

He pursed his lips into a line and shook his head so that his silver waves moved with. “I have already missed too many birthdays and I need to make amends. Besides,” his eyes flit over the karaoke lounge, sparsely filled and drawing in the colors of the RGB lights overhead. “This is something Daeron really wants to do, so I will do this,” and he squeezed your hand, his other hand reaching into his pocket. “Besides, I want to show them this.”

It was his sobriety chip to celebrate his eleventh month mark and you could not have been more proud. 

It was little larger than a half dollar and was the reminder of the dark times that were, but also how it too shall pass. He held onto it, something he could fidget with when his anxiety flared up, but it also was a medal of honor, a token of proof to show that he had persevered and would continue just that. 

The peace continued when he saw it was only his mother and siblings who showed up; his father was not in the best of health and had little energy to much of anything these days, and his grandfather was too wrapped up in maintaining what his father could not do.

You felt relieved. His mother, Alicent as she asked you to call her, obviously loved her son, but her father would get into her head about how it was best to raise them, and his siblings were aware of his shortcomings, but loved Aegon still in their very unique way. 

Daeron bubbled with excitement, in part because he loved to sing but you also imagined he took pleasure in the discomfort of his older brothers, Aemond and Aegon. Aemond was a silent force, with a severe expression and dark clothes, his eye looking over their surroundings as they were led into the rented booth. And Helaena was rosy, her excitement glittered in her eyes with the prospect to sing her heart out, also aware of the discomfort for her brothers and wilfully ignoring it. 

They took their seats and Daeron bounded to the stage, choosing some pop song and singing along. Aemond, long and lean, sank into a corner part of the couch, legs stanced wide and his gaze solemn, as always. Alicent and Helaena were seated together and you leaned back into the couch, watching Aegon pour over the log of songs available on the tablet; his brow furrowed and his lips moved wordless as he read through the titles, the light from the screen highlighting his handsome features.  

He was aglow when he handed you the tablet. “This one?” You confirmed, your finger resting on the song. 

Aegon nodded, wiping his palms against his jeans before clapping along with his mother and sister when Daeron finished. “You next?” He asked and Aegon nodded, wetting his lips with his tongue and moving to take the microphone.

Part of his rehabilitation was relearning himself, but sober. With this, he had a newfound passion for music that he had never touched before. You remembered the first time you heard him singing in the shower; you were flushed by his voice, your mouth agape when he exited the bathroom. You always encouraged him to sing, well aware of the brief reprieve it allowed him with every song he disappeared into. 

And now, you leaned back to watch the reactions of his family as Aegon cleared his throat. 

Daeron’s skittish giggled stopped the moment the timbre of his voice poured into the speakers, though the sound quality was what would be considered for a karaoke bar, it did not take away from the fact that Aegon could fucking sing.

His younger brother’s eyes were wide and he sank back into the sofa to watch him. Alicent’s eyes were just as wide and glassy as she took in her son, as if she was truly seeing him for the first time; Helaena just closed her eyes and swayed her head in rhythm to the music.

You dared to glance at Aemond and even his stoic nature cracked slightly, as his brow arched while he listened. 

Aegon was beautiful when he sang, of course; his eyes were closed and there was color to his cheeks from the natural smile that accompanied the lyrics. He moved along with the music, his passion for this habit did not allow him to hold still. 

When he finished, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at you, smiling still. 

His mother and Helaena bound to their feet, clapping and singing praises, while Daeron was flabbergasted. “Holy shit, you can sing,” he managed. 

Alicent flipped on her mom-mode, her dark eyes locked onto him. “Daeron. Language.” 

He grinned sheepishly and even Aemond hummed a compliment, “Well sung, brother.” He had the hint of a smile to his lips.

Daeron clasped his hand on his shoulder, bright eyed with a newfound respect for his brother. “What else are you keeping from us?”

Aegon shifted his weight and glanced at you; you nod reassuringly, subtle with your smile. He reached into his pocket and presented the token.

You saw that Aemond recognized it, as he had also been present with the prior attempts of his sobriety, but his expression softened when he saw the color, a forest green, a color he had not seen in his brother’s palm before. 

For Aegon, it is a wordless gesture and it is met with the support he deserved. Daeron and Helaena both threw their arms around him, smiles and congratulations on their lips, while Aemond only reached to touch his shoulder, the curl of his mouth enough to let him know he was proud of Aegon. 

You enjoyed this moment, content to be a spectator, until you felt the gentle touch of Alicent as she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you into her side. “Thank you,” she whispered in your ear. 

But it was not necessary. You, like Aemond, had always been around and presented him with the opportunity, time and time again. You also knew that Aegon had to want it, or it would never work. 

Most importantly, you would always be grateful for the day he had taken the help offered.

Arcie’s Masterlist

#modern aegon #modern hotd au #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfiction

[arcielee]

Sleeping In

Summary: You are in denial about being sick, but your boyfriend is determined to nurse you back to health.  Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Word Count: 1104 Warnings: Oral (female receiving) and fluff.    Author’s Note: This for my muse @f4ll-for-you ♥ As always, my modern Aegon is a golden retriever after he successfully completely the rehab and therapy poor bb desperately needed. Thank you to @raphaellathedragon​ for beta reading. You are a gem. ♥ Dividers are by @jaysdividers​

It was a slight head cold, you told yourself as the day greets you with a sharp pain splitting your skull. You attempted to go, despite your sore throat  and the congestion feeling as if someone was kneeling in-between your eyes; you were sent home with strict instructions not to return until you were better.

Every task was exhausting and the automation of your sluggish steps took you home. 

You sent one text to your boyfriend, just an update so he would be forewarned on what he would be coming home too.

You finally make it home and reward yourself with a long, hot shower, an attempt to break the fever. You change into your pajamas, which was just a pair of flannel bottoms and one of his shirts that you swam in, before grabbing a quilt and pillows to nest into the couch. A comfort show was put on for background noise and the last thing you remember is curling up.

The touch was gentle and his palms cool. You did not remember falling asleep and your eyelids were so heavy, but you forced them open to see Aegon cradling your face. His brow is knitted with concern above his lavender eyes, searching your face. 

“...what’s going on?” Your voice is low and raspy. 

“It feels that you have a bit of a fever,” he says with a hum, talking as though you said nothing. “I made sure to stop on the way home and grab you a few things, something to take for the fever and aches, tissues, some soup, which I plan on heating up right now-” 

“You’re a regular Florence Nightingale.”

His head cocked with his grin that made your heart flutter still. “How fortunate that your humor remains unaffected,” he teases and leans forward to press his lips on your forehead. “I prefer when you are healthy, so I will be your Florence Nightingale until you are better.” Aegon pulls back, grabbing the handles of the reusable bags to trudge into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. “Oh, why the fuck are you on the couch, my love?”  

He won’t listen to your argument that isolation would guarantee him not getting sick himself and as soon as he dumps everything onto the kitchen counter, he is back at your side and pulling you, begrudgingly, to your feet. “Aegon,” you whine, but you cannot help but smile.

“Come on,” he coaxes, pulling you from the cocoon of pillows and the blanket. You follow and fall against him, but Aegon is quick to wrap one arm around your waist and the other trucks behind your knees, pulling you flush against his chest.

You drape your arm around his shoulders, nuzzling into his neck and enjoying the scent that is so enticingly his own, a combination of some cologne his mother bought him, with a mixture of an almost woodsy, vanilla fragrance. 

Which is why you wore his shirt in the first place. 

He is careful to set you down, letting go for a moment to pull back the blankets for you to crawl and welcome the softness of the bed. Aegon makes the show to tuck you in, finishing with another kiss to your forehead before he slips back into the kitchen.

It’s a fitful sleep and you wake up to see him balance a tray with the prepared remedies. “Can you sit up for me, pretty?” He asks you, careful to place it on the dresser and moving to help prop the pillows behind so you can sit upright. He then rests the tray on your lap. 

The medicine was awful, but the warm soup and the tea he prepared soothes your raw throat; he clears off your lap when you finish and then climbs into bed, pulling you to his chest. Another comfort show is put on, the volume low, and you hum at the touch of his fingers drawing circles between your shoulder blades, easing the tension you’ve been carrying in them today. 

Sleep flutters over you again and when you wake up, you find yourself nestled into his arms and he is curled against. Your subtle movement alerts him and his eyes are quick to open with a hum. “Hey,” his voice is gruff with sleep. “How’re you feeling?”

You sigh. “Better, I think,” but your throat is still a bit dry. 

He shifts his weight, bringing his wrist to touch your forehead for a moment. “Still warm,” he says and then he carefully pushes you onto your back. His large hands pull at the shift, lifting so he can plant kisses on your bare stomach. 

“Aegon,” you breathe, your back arching from the gentle touch of his lips. “I don’t want you to get sick…” 

He shushes you and his exhale causes goosebumps to ripple over you. “Trust me,” he says between kisses, his mouth trailing lower. “We have to break this fever,” his fingers flit over the waistband of your panties, pulling it down to kiss just above your curls. “I should be fine as long as there is no mouth kissing.” 

Aegon gives you a look, the eyebrow wiggle, and you cannot help but giggle. You sigh again and lift your hips, allowing him to peel off your underwear. “Good girl,” he murmurs between your thighs, pressing two fingers against your wet folds and parting them to lick in-between. 

You love how Aegon knows you, knows your every pressure point, how his tongue and fingers work in tandem, following the guide of your soft exhales. The ministrations quicken to coax your release and the kitten licks overstimulating, causing your thighs to tighten around his head. 

He groans from the pressure, turning to kiss the softness of the inside of your thigh and then crawling to kiss you. 

“But you said…”

“Just one won’t kill me,” and his lips find your own.

You can taste yourself on his soft and warm lips. He pulls away and beckons you to follow him for another warm shower while he changes the bedsheets. You pull on another one of his shirts and the two of you curl beneath the covers to sleep. 

The morning is more welcoming, with the sunlight seeping through the closed blinds and you can greet it without the pressure to your skull. You roll over to kiss Aegon and find him already awake, bleary eyed and pitiful looking. 

“Oh, Aegon,” you moan with a smile, touching his forehead and feeling the warmth of a slight fever. 

He hums at your touch. “Worth it,” he says with that same grin you cannot help but love.

#aegon targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x reader #modern aegon #aegon targaryen fanfic #exuding tom glynn-carney bf energy #♥

[arcielee]

𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝔸𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕋𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕖𝕟

Author’s Note: This kind of indirectly became a series all its own? It’s my not-really-a-series series. It was inspired by my imagined aftermath of The Intern series (it’s so good). I will probably add to it sporadically and update this masterlist accordingly.  Anyway, I write my modern Aegon as the golden retriever boyfriend after he successfully completed the rehabilitation (and therapy) that poor baby girl so desperately needed. Warnings for each story.

Update: I have an anon who sends super cute drabbles and those can be seen under the tag modern aegon!husband drabbles on my blog. ♥

+

Sigh No More modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader   Summary: You are having a bad day and your boyfriend makes you smile. Warnings: Implied sexy times, but this is purely fluff. 

 +

We’ve Got Everything modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Summary: Your boyfriend cannot sleep and looks for some help. Warnings: Smutty smut, p in v, then fluff.  

+

Sleeping In modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Summary: You are in denial about being sick, but your boyfriend is determined to nurse you back to health.   Warnings: Oral (female receiving) and fluff.  

+

Freedom Song modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader    Summary: Your boyfriend impresses his family when you all go out for karaoke. Warnings: Mentions of rehabilitation, but this is purely fluff.      

+

Wait So Long modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader   Summary: You are trying to surprise your boyfriend and it does not work out like you had planned. Warnings: Implied sexy times, but this is purely fluff.  

+

Alone, Together modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader   Summary: You did not mean to get tipsy, but Aegon takes care of you. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of rehab, but this is purely fluff.  

+

To Build a Home modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Summary: You are a broken soul and he can recognize it. Warnings: Mentions of household abuse, night terrors and coping with anxiety, but then there will be fluff, oh yes indeed.   Author’s Note: This came from this ask. ♥ 

You got all I need. modern chubby!Aegon x you Summary: Your boyfriend goes all out for your birthday. Warnings: Chubby!Aegon, brief mentions of wg, implied sexual situations, hands hands hands, fingering, inappropriate behavior while riding in a vehicle.

arcie’s masterlist

#modern aegon targaryen masterlist #modern aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen #arcielee masterlists #updated 10/10