My Husband

my husband 🛐

#what a diva

He’s my meow meow😽I need to pet him and hear his ‘Hmms’ turn into purrs 😫!!

Also I stumbled upon a TikTok about Aemond being a kitty LIKE PLSSS HES SO CUTE.

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSR79fsgv/

How boys show affection.

Aegon has a very physical display of affection, he loves kisses, hugs and anything that has to do with touching you, sexually or not, in front of others or in your room, even when you weren’t married, people have caught you several times making out, in the kitchen, in the garden, in the bedroom, in halls, in corridors, it has already earned you so many problems, so many fights, if you have already promised each other the scandal would be little, but still it would be a way to hurry your marriage, if your marriage was impossible and he was already married, nothing stops him not even whispers.

Aegon would cut out the tongues of everyone who worried him, he doesn’t care if another servant comes to see you, but if you call he will make a way, he promises softly while giving kisses on your ear, while his hands are squeezing your thighs and you are sitting in the middle of the kitchen while he takes you right there.

He doesn’t really like to hold hands, he likes to touch your waist more, but if it’s really something well hidden, his hands will never leave your body, sitting together at the table at the family dinner, his hand is on your thigh discreetly, very close to where it shouldn’t be.

Seguir leyendo

The one shot where you did Aegon having sex qith his pregnant wife, could be do a part where he's so hungover in the moring he's like 'do what ever you want' to his kids because they keep begging him for something. I like dad aegon

A/N: Prepare for chaos and (hopefully) hilarity...

***

Someone shoved his arm lightly. A dull ache clouded his mind the moment he started waking up. His body might as well have been weighed down by rocks. The light shoving and tapping continued, and he swatted it away weakly. His head throbbed at the temples and around his forehead; he thought it might split open if he opened his eyes. The faint scent of violets reached his nose, and he smiled. Your scent always remained on the pillows long after you'd left the bed. He could feel a hand continuing to shake him.

"Give me a few minutes, love," he grumbled, rolling onto his side. "Then we can go another round before the children wake up."

"Another round of what, Father?"

His eyes flew open. Inches from his face was one that looked like his own, except the eyes were your shade. Baelon stood already dressed in his green and black attire for the day. He wore a leather coat over his clothes, and a pair of leather riding gloves. 

"N-N-Nothing, Baelon," he groaned, laying on his back. "What are you doing here?"

"We're breaking fast with Mother in the hall," he said, "And then we're going to go flying."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me and you!" he smiled, "You said yesterday you'd come riding with me and Endrys. Saera says she wants to come too, and Daella. Vaelen doesn't want to go, though. He says he's 'busy'," he rolled his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes with his palms. Yes, he'd forgotten his promise to Baelon yesterday afternoon. Baelon, one-and-ten, proved to be a strong dragonrider. His dragon, the emerald beast called Endrys, bonded with him within his egg, which the Dragonkeepers called ‘extremely rare’. Baelon loved the dragons. He read every book and scroll he could find about them; he visited the dragon pit every day to see them. He rode Endrys as long as possible. Aegon knew he'd give up his crown and join the Dragonkeepers in a heartbeat if given the choice. Opening his eyes, blinking despite how much it hurt, he saw the burn mark that crept from his son’s collar. The maester said the burn won't scar entirely, since the hatchling Baelon carried couldn't blow real fire yet, but he'd have a mark or two. Aegon guessed it'd be the first of many throughout his life. Petting his son's mane of silver hair, he smiled sleepily.

"We'll go riding soon," he said. "You run off and eat. You'll need your strength."

Baelon beamed at him, his smile reminded Aegon of yours, and rushed out of the room. He waited for the boy to leave before rolling to your side of the bed. You must've left a while ago, since he couldn't catch a wisp of your warmth. A small part of him hoped you’d be there for him again; he liked the idea of waking up in your arms, your wetness inches from his touch. Aegon took your pillow in his arms to inhale the scent you left behind. A blend of violet oil and natural musk filled his nose and exhaled deeply. He imagined you’d woken ages before him, most likely due to one of the children sneaking in to get you, and then set about dressing quietly. Due to his rough night, you’d naturally let him sleep in. 

For as long as the children let him. 

Without you, he had no reason to stay in bed. Aegon willed himself to sit up. The grogginess and his aching head made it hard for him to take in his surroundings for a moment. That was the last time he drank Dornish strongwine. He dragged himself out of bed, and searched around for clothes to wear. Seeing some already picked out, he guessed you'd ordered a maid to put them out for him. He saw his riding leathers placed alongside it: a long coat, boots, and gloves fit for riding Sunfyre. Aegon didn't care. He only cared about nursing his hangover. The first few minutes in his room went by in the blur. He didn't recall dressing himself until he left. He prepared himself for the storm he'd be walking into when he reached the dining hall.

"-Mother, Baelon keeps throwing bread at me!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Boys, boys, stop it," he heard you say. "Baelon, stop wasting your food and eat it. Vaelen, darling, just ignore him and finish your eggs."

"Raaawwwr!!"

"Saera, sit down and eat."

"I'm not Saera! I'm Rhaenys!"

"Well, Princess Rhaenys, please come sit and eat."

Aegon stood in the doorway watching them. Saera, her blond hair in a tangled braided mess, ran around the table holding up a wooden dragon puppet in flight. Baelon had stopped pelting Vaelen with bread and started stacking pieces of bacon into a square on his plate. Vaelen ate his breakfast quietly, reading a book propped up against a vase. You sat at the head of the table, talking to your eldest, Daella. You’d worn one of your looser gowns today to give your swollen belly room. Aegon smiled softly for a moment. This was them; his little family. It blew him away some mornings. He never considered himself the domesticated type before. He’d grown up a spoiled, selfish prince who liked gambling, wine, and women; the only person he loved was his sister-wife, you. But then one hot morning, you delivered a baby girl, who suddenly became his entire world. Everything spiraled from there.

"Morning, Husband," you smirked at him knowingly. "How did you sleep?"

Aegon walked forward, doing his best to stay upright and not slouch, "Like a babe." He plucked the wooden toy from Saera mid-run.

"Father!"

"Even dragonriders need to eat," he put her on the chair beside you and handed one of the maids the toy. "Including you," he told Baelon, as he handed him a fork and sat down, “Eat your bacon.” 

The maid served him brown ale, two sausages, bacon, three fried eggs, and a chunk of bread. He began eating when someone placed a small wooden cup beside him. Aegon turned to see Vaelen standing there, blond hair tied back from his face and sage look in his eyes. He picked up the cup to see a faintly green liquid that smelled thickly of grass. 

“Vaelen, what is this?”

“It’s tea,” he smiled, “It helps with overindulgence.”

“Who gave this to you?”

“Nobody. I made it this morning. Mother said you might feel sick, so I used Maester Bole’s special tea for overindulgence,” he said proudly. “Drink it. It’s good for you.”

Aegon highly doubted that. Vaelen, eight-years-old and the youngest of his four, enjoyed recreating medicines and teas he read about in old Citadel scrolls and books. Unfortunately, his family members ended up being the test subjects. Seeing his son’s expectant face, and seeing the laugh you tried hiding, he shrugged and knocked back to “tea”. Watery, it tasted sharply of pine needles and leaves, and he forced himself to hold back a gag. He’d drunk Maester Bole’s elixirs before, and it never tasted like this. Still, he swallowed and nodded. 

“Very good, son,” he coughed, patting the boy’s shoulder and giving him the cup, “I appreciate your concern. Go eat before your food gets cold.”

He waited until Vaelen left to return to his food. The greasy meal will drown the taste left in his mouth. 

“How was it?” you asked, smiling at him. 

“Delightful,” he replied sarcastically, “You should try it.”

“If only I could ‘overindulge’ as much as you do.”

“You can once he” he pointed to your belly, “Comes out.” 

“He? What makes you think it’s a ‘he’?” you bantered back. “Our next child could easily be a girl.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “It’s a boy, this time. I can feel it.”

“You can feel it? Ah, I didn’t realize you were the one carrying the child.”

“I can sense these things, Y/N,” he said, chewing on a sausage. “I can tell.” 

“I hope it’s a boy,” Baelon said, finally eating a piece of bacon. “I can have a little brother who’ll ride with me. He’ll have a big dragon like me, and we’ll go riding together all the time.”

“Or, he’ll hate dragons and want to read in the library with me,” Vaelen added. 

“I hope it’s a girl,” Daella smiled. “That way, during sewing circles, there will be someone whose stitches are as bad as mine.” 

A girl of one-and-three, she was a spitting image of you. Daella Targaryen, Aegon often boasted, was one of the most comely girls at court. Sadly for Aegon, thirteen is marrying age. He didn’t know any boy who’d want to marry a girl who can outshoot them on an archery range. 

“I don’t care whether it is a boy or girl,” you mused, nibbling on a piece of bread and honey, “Only that it comes.” 

He touched your hand again, seeing the sorrow flash across your eyes. Your last pregnancy didn’t go as you’d both hoped. Daella, old enough to understand, touched your other hand, which made you smile at her. Aegon went back to eating, listening to the conversation change, when he noticed a silver tray at the end of the table. On it, he saw several crushed up herbs, chopped plants, a mortar and pestle, and a glass of a clear liquid. One of Vaelen's experiments, no doubt. Aegon did not have the energy to say anything about experimental works on the table, and went back to eating.

But, nothing gets passed you. "Vaelen, what have we told you? No experiments on the table."

“It’s only my medicinal plants.”

“No experiments.”

Vaelen grumbled, picked up the tray, and put it on a chair. Aegon continued eating slowly, his head feeling heavier than rocks and pounding his temples. He listened to the buzz of his family around him. Aegon could rarely recall a time his own father broke fast with him and his siblings. King Viserys usually remained in his chambers, slowly rotting away due to leprosy and infections. When their family started growing, Aegon made it a point to eat every meal with his children; he’d talk to them about their day, their lessons, and their troubles and answer odd questions. So, despite his throbbing headache and fatigue, he sat with them. 

"What are you all planning for today?" You asked him, taking a sip from your cup.

"These three want to go riding," he nodded to Saera, Baelon, and Daella.

"Are you fit for riding today, love?" You rubbed his arm and gave it a small squeeze. “You had quite a night.”

"I’m always fit for riding,” he insisted. “Sunfyre hasn’t flown in a while. He’ll be eager to get up in the sky.” He looked over at you, “You and Vaelen should join us. Vaelen can ride Daemar, and you can see Moonfyre. The Dragonkeepers say she’s been weeping in her cave.”

“It’s not me she misses,” you noted. “They’ve been keeping her and Sunfyre apart since she had her eggs.” A small smile graced your face, “It seems the dragon has his rider’s appetite.” 

“Clearly.” He chewed at his bacon, then said, “Still, I’d like you and Vaelen to come…all of us together as a family.”

The look you both shared said much. Growing up, your family only attended formal events, celebrations and tourneys together; even then, you never truly bonded. Being the betrothed ones, you and Aegon often stuck together during events because everyone else’s company paled in comparison. Neither of you ever felt a sense of family, even if his mother demanded they uphold the image. The day Daella was born, he’d told you he wanted things to be different, and different they were. You took his free hand and kissed it, then he did the same to yours. 

“Father,” Daella called to him, “Can I bring my bow?"

"That’s fine, dove.” 

"Aegon," you narrowed your eyes at him for a moment. "What do you want to bring your bow for?" 

"I want to see if I can shoot from dragonback."

"You can't shoot from dragonback," Baelon scoffed. "You have to hold the reins!"

"Not if I'm strapped onto Starlight."

"You need to pull the reins to guide her, darling," you said to her. "You're not taking the bow. You'll fall off."

"But Mother!"

"No."

"Father, can I bring it? Please."

"Your mother said 'no'."

Daella sucked her teeth and stopped eating. Aegon can already see her mind working ways to smuggle her bow onto her dragon. Archery on dragonback can be extremely dangerous; only a truly experienced dragonrider could do it well. But Aegon knew it’d be pointless to say anything to her. If she tried, he'd stop her, but for now, he wanted to eat his hangover away. The family broke fast together until Baelon became impatient, and asked if he may go ahead without them.

"No," you told him as everyone stood together, "You go with your father or not at all. I don't want you running around the city alone. It's dangerous out there."

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, soaking up the breakfast drippings with his bread and washing it down. “We’re going now. I’ll have a wheelhouse prepared for you.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Vaelen protested, picking up his experiment, “I want to show Maester Bole my soothing salve!”

“You can show it to him later,” Aegon told him, ushering him towards the doors. “I’m not leaving you here so you can set your curtains on fire.”

“I only set them on fire that one time.”

“No fire.” 

Aegon knew once Vaelen saw Daemar, he’d change his tune. He looked over to see you slowly standing from your chair. He offered you his arm to walk while the children skipped along ahead of you. He ordered his Kingsguard knight, Ser Arryck, to get a carriage ready for the family to set out to the dragon pit. Watching his children all walk ahead of him, chatting about riding and their dragons, Aegon felt something he never felt growing up: Love. He tried so hard to be what his parents wanted, and whenever he acted out of line, they punished him for it. He vowed he’d never be like that with his own children. He’d never make them question whether he loved them, or make them feel less than who they were. 

“Is your head any better?” you asked him as you walked down the corridor. 

“It’s not as terrible as before, but it’ll pass.”

“Or maybe your son’s special tea actually worked this time.”

“I hope so,” he snorted. “It tasted terrible enough to make me forget about my head.”

You laughed together and walked out into the courtyard where stablehands brought out a large wheelhouse. Baelon and Vaelen began pushing one another to get into the wheelhouse first, while Daella scolded them from a distance. Aegon normally would pull them apart, but…he couldn’t find the energy. He watched his boys wrestle for a good minute before Baelon finally won and jumped into the carriage first. He’d enjoy his ‘good seat’ for another minute before Aegon comes to kick him out, and give the comfortable seat to you. When he managed to pile them all into the carriage, he took his seat beside you and the carriage began moving. Aegon looked around the comfortable wheelhouse, recognizing the dragons molded into the borders and the embroidered cushions you sat on. He took your hand in his again, smiling softly. 

“This was the carriage we rode away in on our wedding day,” he whispered in your ear. “You remember our wedding day, don’t you?”

You smiled widely, “I do…I also remember you couldn’t keep your hands off me the whole way home.”

“I didn’t keep my hands to myself even before the wedding. How could you expect me to contain myself when we were finally married and I had you alone?” 

“I didn’t expect you to,” you whispered back, “I was hoping you would.” 

Children all distracted, only one of them noticed you two whispering and the soft peck he gave you. “You were hoping Father did ‘what’, Mother?” Saera, who had ears like a bat, sat right beside you.

“I hoped your father would be a good husband and a good father,” you immediately lied. “So stop being nosey,” you pinched her nose softly, a playful tone in your voice. 

Daella stifled a giggle as she stared out the window, her cheeks a soft pink. She’d heard it all. He’d usually tell her not to listen in on conversations either, but…well, she’d be married soon. She'll be married and have her own children. He preferred not to think of that right now. 

He wanted to have his family for a little bit longer.

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1NST4GR4M: ♡

always — you were injured, protecting osferth. he is there when you wake up. word count: 803 words tw: mentions of injury/wound, ambush, gn!reader a/n: i love him. i love him with all my heart, your honor.

You woke with a start, breath caught in the back of your throat. Pain rippled through your abdomen, muscles contracting as you moved.  

Sunlight trickled through the window, curtains pulled back to allow in the light—blankets pooled around your body, pillows underneath your head to prop you up.

You didn’t know where you were—it looked as though it was a holy place. Perhaps you were in the house of a nun—the holy scripture on the table and the crosses hanging on the walls were enough for you to speculate.

A man stirred from where he sat, body tense from the bench he found himself on. His eyes grew wide as he realized that you were finally awake. 

“Y/n?”

You blinked slowly, recognition hitting you immediately. 

“Osferth?”

He lunged forward, tightly hugging you. You groaned out in pain but hugged him back. The man trembled as he held you.

“I did… I did not know if you’d wake,” he said, pulling back to look down at you. “I was so scared...”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Osferth… what happened?”

“We were ambushed. Caught… caught off guard. Sihtric was hurt, but not as bad as you have been. He's been fine for a few days now,” he said. “You stood in the way. I should have been the one unconscious for days.”

You shifted uncomfortably, looking up at him. You had no recollection of what happened, but you knew you would do it again if it meant you could keep Osferth safe. You knew he was plenty capable, but it never once pushed the feeling away. You would rather be hurt time and time again than to ever see him injured (or worse).

The man leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Let me go and find the Abbess. She has been taking care of your wound.”

You gave a small nod, smiling softly at him. 

“Come back to me?"

“I will. Always.”