Ch3rriebby

You swore to yourself you were done hooking up with athletes. You’re doing pretty well so far, a month into the fall semester, and still painfully celibate. And it wasn’t easy, especially when your toxic ex-friend with benefits kept blowing up your phone. 

During your freshman year at King’s Landing University, you had a fling with Jason Lannister, a lacrosse-playing, business major who had you in tears more times than he ever managed to make you come. It was a very long semester.

The asshole still had the nerve to hit you up every now and then via text.

“Look at this,” you say, shoving your phone in Sara’s face. 

The brunette glances up at you, stopping mid-bite of her panini, eyes widening at the messages. You’re sitting at your usual table for lunch at the north campus dining hall with Sara Snow and Helaena Targaryen, two of your best friends. It’s make your own panini day on Tuesdays, something Sara insists can never be missed. 

“Block him,” she says swallowing, as you flip your phone upside down on the table. 

Helaena nods her head, agreeing with Sara, not looking up from the biology notes she’s scrambling to complete before her class. 

“He didn’t even add a question mark,” you continue, “I’m not even worth proper punctuation.”

Sara snickers at that, taking a sip from her drink as you lean forward, head in your hands. Helaena and Sara lock eyes as you do so, sharing a knowing look between them. 

“He’s so annoying,” you groan, rubbing your temples.

“Who is?” Baela asks as she arrives, plopping into the seat to your right.

“Jay Lannister,” Sara tells her, and Baela glares at you. 

“Do not fuck him,” Baela warns fire in her violet eyes, pointing her finger at you to emphasize her words. 

Your mouth drops open in shock. She’s always calling you out, Baela can read you like a book.

“I’m not going to!” you tell her, but Baela shakes her head. 

“You are a horny bitch,” Baela says, still pointing, “get a vibrator, get a dildo please-”

“Baela, oh my god we’re in public,” you tell her, moving to cover her mouth.

She swats your hand away.

“Do you think I care?” she says, smiling.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” you tell her, “and I love you, please keep reality-checking me.”

“That’s a lot of feelings,” Sara comments.

“What do I do about Jason, seriously?” you ask once more.

“Block him!” is the unanimous response. 

You sigh, but open your phone, deleting the text and blocking his contact. You hold the phone out to your friends, showing your dirty work. 

“There? Happy?” you tell them.

“I am,” Baela says, and Sara and Helaena nod in agreement. 

“You just need someone new to get under,” Sara comments, “and it’s the best time of year to do so.”

You blink at your best friend.

“I don’t follow.”

Sara sighs, as though you should know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Cuffing season?” she says, earning a blank stare.

Her eyes glance behind you, a smirk coming on her lips.

“And more importantly,” she says, head tilting to the side, tongue between her teeth, “hockey season.”

You turn in your seat, watching as the boys' hockey team enters the dining hall. Clearly, they’ve come from practice, all half-dressed, all freshly showered messes of men with shaggy hair framing their faces. They all sit together, like a pack of wolves, at the same table. Team bonding at its finest. 

“Gods do I love a hockey flow,” Sara groans, biting her lip. 

From October to April, the King’s Landing Knights own the ice. They own the entire college campus if you’re being completely honest. Most of the team lives together, throwing exclusive parties throughout the season at the so-called hockey house. 

Sara hums in appreciation, watching as Jace Velaryon brushes some damp hair from his face, t-shirt riding up to expose his midriff. You can’t see her face, but you know Sara looks like she’s ready to sink her teeth into him. You know Jace from class, he’s a nice guy. Sara would be the death of him. 

You turn back toward your friends. 

“Is this why we came to north campus?” you ask and Sara shrugs.

“It’s an added bonus to panini day,” she tells you, earning a laugh from Helaena.

“I told you, I’m done with college athletes,” you tell them, “they’re all the same. No offense, Hel.”

You nod to Helaena who simply shrugs. Her brother Aegon plays hockey after all.

“No, you should speak your truth,” Helaena encourages. 

Sara opens her mouth in shock, eyebrows knitting together as she brings a hand to her throat clutching imaginary pearls. 

“Don’t talk about my Jacaerys that way!”

You laugh, nearly snorting your drink out through your nose.

“Your Jacaerys?” you ask through a laugh.

Though you suppose Jace should be exempt from the athlete slander. 

“Well not mine yet, but soon,” she tells you, causing Helaena to raise an eyebrow.

“You’re going to bang my cousin?” Hel asks and Sara shrugs.

“It’s not my fault your entire family tree goes here,” Sara argues, causing Helaena to laugh.

“They've got a game this week. Come with me!” Sara begs, taking your hand in hers, “We’ll score invites to the afterparty at the hockey house!”

You tilt your head at Sara giving her an incredulous look, before turning to Baela and Helaena.

“It’s like she’s tuning me out on purpose,” you tell them, eliciting laughter.

“I am,” Sara agrees, “you need to get laid. Hard. Bed and bred, if you will.”

You choke on your drink again. A group of your peers at a nearby table glance in your direction and you’re sure they’ve heard Sara. 

“Bred!?”

“Chill, you’re on birth control!”

“Not everyone has a breeding kink, Sara!”

“Don’t you kink shame me in this sacred dining hall-”

As soon as the words leave Sara’s lips, Rhaena arrives at the table, backpack slung over her shoulders, eyebrows knitting together.

“What did I just walk into?” she asks.

You turn in your seat, grabbing her hand. 

“Save yourself,” you tell her dramatically, “it’s too late for us but there’s still hope for you.”

“Why are we talking about kink shaming at lunch?” Rhaena asks, sitting down. 

Sara leans forward as though sharing a secret. 

“Because I should be the one shaming our dear nerdy love here for not exploring her own,” Sara informs her, “Y/N doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”  

“I don’t need to get laid,” you inform them, pointing at Baela, “as Bae said, I am simply going to use my vibrator more often.”

“You need a human dick,” Sara scolds, “or else you’ll be fantasizing about Jason the whole time you buzz buzz.”

Your friends know you too well. 

“I can’t even fantasize?” you ask pouting.

“I literally can’t with you,” Baela says, rolling her eyes, “Jason is a douche.”

“He once made you throw up from crying so hard,” Sara scolds, trying to bring you back to reality.

“He made you pay for takeout and didn’t order you any,” Helaena adds.

“He told you his-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” you tell them.

You know they’re right. But Jason is the friends-with-benefits situation you feel like you can’t let go of. Even though he was such an asshole to you. 

“But if I’m getting a guy, I want someone sweet, someone nice, and loyal,” you tell your friends, setting some ground rules. 

“You’re describing a dog,” Baela tells you, but Sara nods in agreement with you.

She bites her lip in encouragement. The conversation is going in her favor. 

“Someone who can dick you down, degrade you a little, explore some hidden parts of your sexual psyche,” she adds, wiggling her fingers. 

“Someone-”

“Someone like him,” Rhaena says, nodding back toward the hockey players. 

You all turn, watching as someone joins the team. Your eyes widen watching him strut over to where the rest of his teammates sit. He’s big, totally jacked, with shaggy brown hair that matches the color of his closely shaved beard, despite a small patch that appears more auburn than brown. 

His eyes are warm, the color of melted chocolate. He grins wolfishly taking his seat. Even though he’s wearing sweats you can tell his thighs are massive, matching the bulging biceps on display as he stretches. You let your eyes wander to another bulge you’re interested in, thoughts turning to mush in your head.

“Yeah,” you say, watching as he sits with the rest of the team.

“You know why his beard is like that, right?” Sara asks, eyes sparkling.

“Huh?”

“From eating too much pussy.”

“Sara!”

“What?” 

“That’s Cregan Stark,” Baela answers the unspoken question in the room.

Sara claps her hands excitedly.

“I know him, I saw his name on the online roster,” Sara says, “he’s 6’3, plays goalie, loves dogs-”

“You’ve been studying the hockey roster?” Rhaena asks, laughing.

Sara nods enthusiastically. 

“He’s a political science major,” Baela adds, “Cregan’s nice, I’ve had a couple of classes with him. Cool dude. Used to date Aly but I heard they broke up.”

“Which one?” you ask for clarification.

“Aly with a Y, not Ali with an I,” Baela adds, making the clarification between Alysanne Blackwood and Aliandra Martell. 

“This is it,” Sara tells you, her face serious, “he’s the one.”

You look at Cregan again and watch him laugh as Jace says something. You find yourself smiling watching them talk, watching Cregan’s smile light up his whole face.

“And look! They’re besties too, it's perfect,” Sara says, gasping and making a pouty face. 

“When is the game?” you ask, and Sara cheers. 

“I’ll find out the details,” she says, smiling. 

It’s a Tuesday, and you only have one afternoon class, thank the gods. Philosophy. Not the worst, not one of your all-time favorites. Luckily, being one of Helaena’s best friends meant access to her brother’s study guides. Aemond was seriously a philosophical genius. 

You have no friends in this elective, so you sit toward the front and try not to doze off as your professor drones on about Kant and Decarte. Your phone buzzes on your desk and you glance at the text that appears.

“I have your papers from last week,” your professor says, holding a stack of papers in the air, “some of you impressed me,” he says beginning to hand them out, “others may need to stop by the academic resource center.”

Professor Orwylle stops in front of you placing your paper face down before smiling.

“Well done,” he murmurs, continuing around the room.

You turn the paper over revealing your perfect score. A shiver of pride rolls through you. Academic validation always feels so good.

“Fuck,” a deep voice says, causing you to turn. 

Aegon Targaryen sits a few rows behind you, looking very displeased with the grade on his paper. You didn’t realize Aegon was in this class, though it's rather large to be fair, not your fault for not noticing him.

You have only spoken to Aegon a handful of times. Being friends with his sister and acquaintances with his brother, you’d bumped into him once or twice. He’s the eldest of his siblings, though they have an older half-sister they don’t really talk to. 

Aegon is slumped in his seat, silver hair pushed off of his face. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, dressed in a clean white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His eyes have dark circles underneath them, and two earrings dangle from his left earlobe. 

He’s heartbreakingly handsome, truly the definition of a pretty boy with those pouty lips, dead violet eyes, and cherubic face. But he’s not your type. He’s a heartbreaker too, so you’ve heard, with a solid rotation of gorgeous girls on his arm.

Aegon Targaryen is a player. 

Aegon Targaryen is a party boy. 

Aegon Targaryen is an asshole. And you’ve sworn off guys like that. 

“What’s good bro?” you hear Arryx Cargyll ask him as you turn back to face the front.

“This class is a fucking nightmare,” Aegon groans.

“I did alright,” Arryx tells him, smiling.

“Fuck you,” Aegon tells his friend, “why did I choose this elective.”

“Can’t your grandfather just donate more money? Get you out of it?” Arryx asks him, shoving his papers into his backpack.

“Yeah that’s not going to happen,” Aegon says shaking his head. 

While Aemond and Helaena had no trouble getting into university, Aegon’s transcripts weren’t the best. He had a rough time during his teen years, in and out of programs. The only consistency was hockey, truly the only reason Aegon attended school at all. Even now. His grandfather spent a fortune donating to the school, funding the restoration of the library to have Aegon accepted. 

“Don’t forget, the midterm exam is only 2 weeks away, if you haven’t started studying, you’re already behind,” your professor tells you, dismissing the class. 

You gather your things, eager to leave the classroom. You text Sara as you leave the room, as Aegon remains seated. 

“Mr. Targaryen,” Professor Orwylle says, beckoning him forward.

Aegon stands and makes his way toward the desk.

“I assume your wish is not to fail my class,” he asks as Aegon taps his foot nervously.

“Coach has already threatened to bench me,” Aegon tells him, “I need a good grade on this midterm or it’s fucking over for me-shit sorry- just over.”

Professor Orwyelle smiles tightly at him, a pitying look in his eye. Aegon’s had a lot of stress from home, he knows how hard this semester has been on him. 

“Tell you what,” Orwylle says, “I suggest you reach out to one of your classmates, see if anyone can help you study, maybe do some tutoring. We can meet during my office hours, but I think you’ll need some additional support.”

Aegon nods, running a hand through his platinum hair. 

“My brother took this class,” Aegon tells Orwyelle, who smiles remembering him, “he’ll have to help me.”

“I’m not helping you,” Aemond says, his voice soft, but firm in the library.

Aegon groans, earning several glares from nearby students trying to study. He drops into the seat across from Aemond.

“You’re a twat,” he whispers to his younger brother, “Aem, please, don’t make me beg.”

Aemond closes the book he’s reading, a massive historical textbook, before rubbing the scarred tissue above his eyebrow. Aegon watches him wince, unsure if Aemond’s eye is paining him or simply Aegon’s presence. The injury happened years ago that caused Aemond to lose his eye, their cousin is still in juvenile detention due to the incident. 

“I can’t help you,” he tells Aegon, “I gave away all my study materials already.”

Aegon’s eyebrows furrow.

“To who?”

“One of Helaena’s friends.”

“Baela?”

“No.”

“Rhaena?”

“Nope.”

Helaena has so many friends they’re all blurring together. For an introverted STEM student, she’s quite popular. 

“Who then?”

Aemond sighs at Aegon’s pestering, rubbing his eyes. 

“Y/N,” he tells Aegon.

Aegon pauses for a moment, frowning. All the faces that Helaena surrounds herself with flash in his mind but he struggles to match a face to the name. 

“Which one is that?”

Aemond glares at him.

“Aegon-”

“What? Helaena has a lot of friends,” Aegon argues.

“She came on the ski trip last year,” Aemond reminds him.

Oh.

He did remember you. The annual Targaryen family ski trip, Hel brought you along as her plus-one. Aegon remembered you in a skimpy little bathing suit at the ski lodge spending most of the day cooped up in the hot tub reading a book than actually skiing. Helaena had nearly plucked Aegon’s eyes from his skull. Cruel of her really, to bring along a hot friend and then demand Aegon leave her be. 

“I know her,” Aegon says, “I didn’t realize she’s in my class.” 

“You’re very unobservant,” Aemond comments, beginning to pack his things, “don’t bother her, she’s a nice girl.”

Aegon frowns, motioning to himself.

“And I’m not a nice guy?”

“Aegon.”

“I just need help with studying,” Aegon promises, “that’s all. Seriously, I cannot get benched this season. I can’t ask for another bailout.”

Aemond watches him closely.

“Helaena will kill you if you mess with one of her friends,” Aemond warns him.

“I know,” Aegon agrees, “it’s just for studying, I swear.”

He motions across his chest, crossing his heart. Aemond stares and raises an eyebrow at him. Nothing with Aegon is ever that simple. 

“Hel is at the registrar’s office,” Aemond tells him, “if you want to ask her for Y/N’s number.”

Aegon clasps his hands together in appreciation.

“You’re a good brother,” he tells Aemond, standing.

“Mhmm,” Aemond says, going back to his work.

Aegon hurries across campus, luckily the registrar's office isn’t too far. He bumps into his sister as she’s leaving, frowning at her new schedule.

She looks up, noticing Aegon. 

“I can’t switch to Medieval Archeology,” Helaena complains to her brother, “there’s a waitlist. Now I’m stuck in the History of Valyria. As if Dad didn’t quiz us incessantly as kids on our own culture.” 

“I need a favor,” Aegon says following as Helaena walks down the hallway.

“Don’t you always?” she grumbles, taking out her phone. 

“I need your friend Y/N’s number,” he says and Helaena freezes. 

“Stupid question Egg,” she tells him, quirking an eyebrow, “No, I’m not giving you her number.”

“Please, I just-”

“Aegon,” Helaena says sharply, “Cassandra Baratheon doesn’t even speak to me anymore.”

Aegon winces dramatically.

“That was years ago,” he argues as Helaena refers to her high school best friend. 

“My friends are off limits,” she tells him, “capiche?”

“I just need some study-”

“CAPICHE?” Helaena says, louder this time, with more authority in her normally soft voice.

“ALRIGHT!” Aegon says sighing, “I get it, seriously. I just need a tutor. That’s it.”

Helaena narrows her eyes. 

“Fine. But I’m not giving you her number. You’re not getting easy access,” she says getting out her phone, “I’ll text her.”

Aegon sighs.

“Thank you,” he says and Helaena hums in response, sounding an awful lot like Aemond.

She says nothing as she texts and Aegon tries to peek over her shoulder causing her to glare at him. He reaches to turn her phone and she slaps his hand away. 

“She’s on the quad,” Hel tells him.

“Perfect, you’re a lifesaver Hel,” he says before leaving.

You sigh dramatically as Helaena leaves you on read. You tilt your head back looking up toward the sky enjoying the feeling of the cool fall air on your face. The sun is still warm, it's early October and summer is just starting to truly slip away. You’re still basking in the sun when Aegon Targaryen sits down in front of you. 

“What do you want, Aegon?” you ask, already annoyed by his presence. 

He leans forward, smiling, cradling his chin in his palms. He bats his lashes at you, looking ever so innocent. You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“The pleasure of your company,” he teases.

“Mhmm,” you answer, looking at him.

“I need a tutor,” he tells you, “I’m failing philosophy, and if I fail this semester I’ll be benched for the rest of the season”

Of course, it all comes back to hockey for Aegon.

“Why don’t you ask Aemond to tutor you?”

“He said no,” Aegon tells you, “I figured you’d be more open to my begging.”

Your cheeks turn red. 

“Well you thought wrong,” you tell him, “I don’t have time for tutoring this semester.”

“C’mon, I know you tutored last semester,” he tells you, pouting, “And midterms are coming up! What’s more important than sharing your knowledge with those less fortunate?”

Getting dicked down by Cregan Stark, you think to yourself but bite your tongue.

Aegon’s brows knit together, noticing the blush on your cheeks, the pause in your train of thought. 

“There has to be something I can do,” he says, “something I can help you with, tell me.”

“There’s nothing,” you insist, shaking your head.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Aegon says again, “Tell me, what’s a guy got to do to earn your help?”

Sara would kill me if I waste this opportunity.

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, “I want invites to the party at the hockey house on Friday. Guaranteed entrance.”

Aegon raises a brow.

“Tutor girl has a thing for hockey guys now, huh?”

The blush on your cheeks darkens. Aegon smirks, giving you a once-over.

“You know Jace, why don’t you ask him to hook you up?”

“We’re not close.”

Aegon’s eyes narrow.

“Who do you have your eye on?” he asks, curiously.

“No one,” you lie to him, and he sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“Can’t help you if you’re not honest with me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you insist, “and I just want the invite.”

“C’mon give me a hint,” Aegon says, relentlessly, “What’s your type? What position, forward? Center? Left-wing? Goalie?”

Your treacherous body gives you away, breath-catching as he says the word and your lower lip gets caught between your teeth. Aegon grins triumphantly. 

“Goooalie,” he says, elongating the word.

He releases a boyish giggle as you turn red. He’s enjoying this too fucking much.

“Cregan Stark, huh?” Aegon chuckles, “Never took you for a puck bunny.”

You glare at him, snapping your book closed. 

“Are you going to help me, or should I direct you toward the academic resource center?” you snap, feeling all too embarrassed for even admitting to Aegon you have a crush on Cregan.

“Relax, bunny,” he teases, holding his hands up in surrender, “I’ll help you.”

He holds a hand out toward you. You glance at his outstretched hand, at the silver rings on his thumb and index finger. Aegon wiggles his fingers at you, expectantly. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs. 

“You want to fuck Stark or not?” Aegon asks, causing your eyes to widen, “cause he’s an enigma, you’ll need my help.”

“Enigma,” you say pursing your lips, “that’s a big word for you, Aegon.”

“Not the only thing that’s big,” Aegon answers, like it’s a preprogrammed response.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline and you give him a disapproving glare.

“Sorry,” Aegon chuckles, “force of habit.”

“This alliance is time-limited,” you tell him, firmly setting a boundary, “I help you pass, you help me talk to Cregan.”

Aegon’s eyebrows raise, an amused smile on his face. You feel as though you’re selling your soul to the devil himself, the way he’s impishly grinning at you. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he tells you.

You reach across the table, extending your hand for him to shake. With a smirk, Aegon takes your hand in his, the cool metal from his rings pressing against your fingers in juxtaposition to the warmth of his rough palm. A shiver rolls down your spine as he squeezes your hand. 

“It’s a deal.”

note: as always comments, likes, & reblogs are always appreciated, I hope this sets up the story for you and I'm excited to share where it goes! MWAH LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!! 😘

I'm tagging my HOTD taglist, but will create a separate tag for this fic as well so comment below if you would like to be tagged in future parts!

HOTD taglist:

@bluevxnuss, @thattargboy, @xlilacfrostx, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @marvelescape, @geminithrone, @deltamoon666, @i-killed-ramsey, @tempt-ress, @eddiemadmunson, @zillahvathek, @hangmanscoming, @jojoesq, @f4ll-for-you, @rwdkarla, @cc13723things, @filipiniamultifandom, @watercolorskyy @alexxavicry @sachafirebringer @polireader @jamespotterismydaddy @grv7ay9In35s @sofiaadler @sophielangdonx @doublesparrows, @sophielangdonx, @alitaar, @castellomargot, @paodemorangol1l1, @nik2blog, @arkainea @eddiemadmunson, @malfoytargaryen, @eudximoniax, @targaryen-world, @ghostheartbeat @savagemickey03, @aemondsdaemons, @candypurplebutterfly, @eddiemadmunson, @xxnaly2, @ghostheartbeat, @savagemickey03, @dieg0brandos-wife, @paodemorangol1l1, @hb8301, @padfooteyes, @valeskafics

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