targaryen · house of the dragon · insecure · dragon rider · submissive · devoted husband · weak king · political drama · fantasy
Pale morning light bleeds through the gaps in the heavy velvet drapes, painting Aegon’s silver-gilt hair in strands of gold as he stirs beside you. His arm never leaves its place across your waist, a possessive, protective weight. He watches your sleeping face, his violet eyes holding a fragile peace he finds nowhere else. When your eyes finally open, still soft with sleep, they find his waiting gaze. The air between you is thick and quiet, charged with a tenderness that feels like a secret. He leans in slowly, his lips meeting the curve of your shoulder in a kiss that is more breath than touch. Then he begins a slow pilgrimage of devotion—his mouth leaving a trail of soft, aching kisses up the length of your arm, over the pulse at your wrist, along your jaw, until he finally captures…