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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 3 days

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Skyfall

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warning: Death, mention of miscarriage, mention of rape, forced marriage, angst, smut fluff, post-Dance

Summary: Daemon was the only surviving, elder Targaryen to wear the Conquerors Crown. His heir was a broken little boy. Driven by spite, he took the widow of the nephew he had slain as his wife.

A/N: This fic was inspired by this fic game from @ewanmitchellcrumbs

He felt the crash hard. It was unlike falling to the ground. Water was more resistant, and firmer. He wanted to groan, the pain shooting from his back to his whole body. But as soon as he tried to breathe, water was already filling his lungs.

The weight of his heavy armour pulled him down to the ground of the lake. But he resisted as best as he could. His head broke the surface of the lake, coughing, and spluttering as he took deep breaths.

He crawled out of the water with difficulty. His wet jerkin was adding to the weight of his chain mail and dark armour. His body was protesting against every move he made. Crying out for him to give up, to surrender. But he was too stubborn.

Tears of frustration threatened to spill down his cheeks. His hands were muddy and full of cuts from the stones on the shore. Left shoulder, where Aemond’s sword pierced him, burned from the exertion. He could feel the pumping from his heart in the gaping wound.

He gave up in the middle of the cobblestone shore right where the grass line began. He was heaving heavily. He was trying to get enough air into his lungs to breathe, but all his body wanted was to shut down and succumb to the darkness calling him.

The last thing he remembered where men of his army rushing to him. Carrying him to a cart.

He woke up surrounded by maesters and servants. All fussing as he tried to sit up. He was stronger than any of them if it wasn’t for the milk of the poppy the maesters had given him in his unconscious state. His movements were sluggish, his head fuzzy. He roared out for the hands around his body to unhand him. He threatened them to behead them in the name of his wife, Queen Rhaenyra.

The room grew quiet at his mention of Rhaenyra. He looked around, his eyes hardening. “What is the meaning of this?” Everyone in the room averted their eyes. His anger burned brighter with every quiet moment passing by. “Talk!” He boomed.

A maester hesitantly came closer to his side. He bowed deeply. “My p-prince, the Princ-Queen Rhaenyra was killed by the order of King Aegon. She burned in the fires of Sunfyre.” The elderly man became quiet at the end. Everyone in the room waited with bated breath for his reaction. Fearing the worst.

Daemon’s nostrils flared as the words sunk in. The usurper green cunt burned her alive. They had their flaws, but he cared for Rhaenyra deeply. She did not deserve to die like this. “Where is he now?” The servants looked down. The maester, an elderly man with a bald head and dark brown eyes, looked at him with sympathy. He looked like a Great Dane, with his sad dark eyes and the deep wrinkles around his face. “He is dying, my prince.”

Satisfaction spread through his body as he got the news about Aegon dying. “Who else is still alive?”

The maester looked up at him, fixing his posture as he had been bowing the whole time. “The Dowager Queen Alicent, Princesses Jaehaera, your son, Prince Aegon the younger and…” The man trailed off.

Daemon impatiently looked at him. His fingers drummed on the bedding. “Who else?” He growled. “The widow of Prince Aemond, my prince.”

A wide, nearly sadistic grin spread on his lips. Good, he thought. He takes further revenge on his naïve nephew.

The day Daemon was announced King, was the day Aegon the Second died. He took it as the opportunity to announce not only his coronation as king, as he was the only elder male Targaryen left. He also announced his betrothal to the widow of Aemond.

He saw in the corner of his eyes how she stood next to the Dowager Queen. Her eyes cast down as the herald announced the news. The corners of his lips lifted at her reaction. Alicent broke down, another triumph for him, as he knew the Lady had become like a daughter to her.

She stood in her chamber with her maids flittering around her. They had already undressed her out of her heavy wedding gown. Lifting the weight from her shoulder, but not from her chest.

She had heard stories from her late husband about his uncle. He had admired the man. But his arrogance and his ignorance had led to his death. She had mourned him, even though in the end he didn’t deserve her tears.

She had heard of the witch of Harrenhal. How he had bedded her time and time again. Maybe he had been under her spell, maybe he did it out of his free will. But she was with his child, not her, the witch.

She stood in front of the mirror of her room. Seeing the maids working on unbraiding her hair. How she wished they knew how to unbraid the coil in her stomach.

Her hands shook slightly as she touched the fine lace of her night dress. A gift from Daemon. “The lace was made in Myr, my lady.” One of her maids whispered in awe. She only nodded. Her mind was blank. Her soul had gone to a far-off place.

She was led to Daemon’s chamber. Her steps were so stiff she felt like a puppet being moved on strings. Maybe the gods took control of her, leading her to her slaughter. She had been Aemond’s wife, now married to his killer. From one kinslayer married to another. But who had not earned that title in the Dance? No one's hands were untainted with spilt dragon blood. Not even her own hands were clean.

Daemon sat in front of the lit fireplace, a goblet of the finest braavosi wine in his hand. He held the conqueror's crown in his hand. Looking at it with indifference. He was king now. A king with a broken heir. Aegon had seen his mother being burned alive. Being scared for his life.

He had always been a guarded boy. Keeping to himself most of the time when Viserys wasn’t next to him. Viserys, his other son, was taken by the Triarchy. Believed to be dead.

He took a large gulp from his drink. He was staring into the flames with a blank stare. He needed a new heir. Aegon would not be fit to rule. He was too broken, too much grief and darkness surrounded him. He would break under the weight of the heavy crown.

He pursed his lips and chuckled humourlessly. Would he break too? He had lost much too. Laena and their son, his brother, Rhaenyra, their younger son Viserys, their daughter, his dragon, his trusted life companion he had fought in plenty of wars with. Caraxes was nowhere to be seen. His guards searched far and wide for any signs of his beloved dragon. But until now, he was believed dead.

His chamber door opened and a maid of his new wife stepped in, announcing her presence. He did not turn as she entered. Did not acknowledge her. It seemed she did not do the same. Maybe she was scared of him? He fought with amusement.

He heard her move before he saw her stand next to him. She was dressed in a thin robe covering her shoulders. It was opened, probably a maid’s work. She looked like she wanted to close it again.

"Should I lay on my back, lord husband?” She whispered so softly. He looked up at her, seeing the hidden fear in her glassy eyes. “No.” He spoke softly. A softness he hadn’t felt in a long time. “You are not willing to lay with me.”

Her eyes widened at his words. He chuckled and drank the rest of his wine before putting his cup and crown on the table with the jug of wine. “Did the Dowager Queen tell you I would take you without your consent? I think she has lived too long with her rapist of a son and sadly, my brother too. I am not too obsessed with having sons like he was. I have a living son, even if I see him as unfit. I also have two daughters from my dear Laena. If one of them marries and has a son, he will inherit my throne.”

He stood up and looked at her for the first time. She was beautiful, he had to admit that. He was not blind. “I think you would appreciate it if you were to be left alone. You do not only mourn Aemond, do you?” Her body stiffened. “How…?” He smiled softly. “I have my little birds everywhere. They told me about your … misfortune. No woman should ever feel that kind of pain.”

She bit her lip and looked down at the stone floor. Her arms wrapped unconsciously around her empty womb. A few months ago she had felt the flutter of life there, but the gods were cruel to her.

“I could order my men to hunt her down and kill her,” Daemon murmured. His lady wife looked up with shock. “Do not kill Alicent! Jaehaera needs her!” Daemon shook his head. “Not that green snake. I mean the witch. Aemond’s mistress who is with his child. I could let her be killed if you want.”

She stared at him with wide eyes before she shook her head. “No, let her be.” “Even if she was the one who caused you to lose your child.” She took in a sharp breath. Her answer was still no. Even if the rumours were true, she didn’t want more blood on her hands.

Daemon nodded, walking past her to the open balcony doors. He heard music and the cheering of the smallfolk. “Why did you marry me? I am not of Valyrian decent.” Daemon grinned softly. “You are not, little dove. I married you to spite your late husband. I want him to look from beyond and see you filled with my child. Caring for my children. I want him to see what he has neglected.”

He turned to her, seeing her wide eyes. “Only if you want. I will not force you. I am not my brother and certainly not my nephew. If you want, I can give you a child.” They stared at each other. The room is quiet.

It had been a year since that fateful night. The realm slowly regained strength under Daemon. No one thought he could become a good king. But he listened to his small council and had competent and trusted advisors. One was his lady wife. She was beautiful but had a sharp tongue that matched Daemon’s wit.

He looked down at her as she writhed on top of the wooden table of the small council as he drove his member over and over into her warmth. Her mewls and moans floated through the empty room. Only the noises of their sticky skin slapping and her moans filled the room.

His stones slapped against her buttocks as he leaned over her. Holding both her wrists over her head. “Who is fucking you this good, little dove.” He looked into her pleasure-filled face. Seeing her struggle to keep her eyes open. “You… Daemon!”

He clicked his tongue and slapped her thigh harshly. “Wrong answer, dōna ābrazȳrys. Who is making you feel this good?” (Sweet wife)

Her soft lips opened and closed like a fish out of the water until her soft, pleasure-filled voice gasped. “You, my king. Ñuha dārys!“ Daemon smirked at her words. “Good, you are learning, little dove.” (My King)

He drove himself over and over into her tight warmth. “Will you give me another one? Another little girl.” She nodded softly. “Kessa, ñuha dārys!” (Yes, my king!) Daemon chuckled softly at her words.

His pace slowed down as he felt his end approaching. His thrust became hard, pushing into her with force. Her gasps grew louder with every push. “Such a good, little wife. Taking her king's cock. Ñuha sȳz dāria!” (My good queen) He groaned out loudly. Filling her with his warm seed.

Her body began to tremble as she approached completion. Her body tensed until it went limp under him.

He looked down at her. Her chest heaving. The sun rays streaming from the window made her sweat-covered skin glisten. He was far from a religious man, but to him, she looked like the personification of the maiden. So innocent and vulnerable. If he weren’t so possessive he would commission a painting of her in her post-orgasmic state.

He leaned down, kissing her softly before helping her sit up. He was still inside her, his softening member keeping his semen inside of her. His arms were tightly wrapped around her. “I heard you had coaxed Aegon out of his room and walked around the garden.” He smiled softly at him.

His wife smiled at him. “We talked. I wanted him to know I would never replace his mother. Then we talked about his studies. He is a smart boy.” She grinned up at him. Daemon chuckled. “Good. He told me he feels safe with you.”

His wife looked down, playing with the embroidered dragon on his doublet, heat spreading across her face. “I feel honoured.” She mumbled.

Their bubble was broken by hurried steps coming closer to the small council chamber. Both turned as a knight entered the chamber. “My king, my queen.” He bowed deeply. “There is a boy at the gates claiming to be your son, my king.”

Daemon looked up from his wife to the knight. “Go.” His wife whispered. She pushed him softly from her. He hissed at the loss of her warmth. Whining slightly as she closed his breeches with nimble fingers.

With a fast pace, he rushed into the courtyard, seeing Viserys riding into the gates. He had grown since the last time he saw him.

Daemon was at the horse's side, pulling his son down from the animal. He held him to his chest. Viserys wrapped himself around his father. Both Targaryens couldn’t hold their tears back.

Another body crashed into Daemon’s side. Aegon sobbed loudly as he wrapped his hand around his father and little brother.

With tears in his eyes, he looked at the steps, seeing his wife standing with their daughter in her arms. A gentle smile on her lips. He nodded at her, thanking her for bringing Aegon down from his room.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryan #house of the dragon #hotd

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shuichiakainx · 3 days

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Countdown: 10 Weeks Until The Return of "House of the Dragon". 🖤🐉🔥

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barbiedragon · 1 month

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Ripen

HOTD: Daemon Targaryen x niece!reader (reader is Rhaenyra’s twin)

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)

WC: 1.9k

Warnings: Targcest, height difference, age difference (reader is 18), ball worship, breeding kink, ye olde creampie, arranged marriage

For a request sent to me by @targaryen-dynasty for Daemon x niece!reader with ball worship and breeding kink

Your uncle has returned from the Stepstones and you are eager to have him all to yourself

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

Anticipation bubbled deep in your stomach; your hand rested gently against the area, almost as if to still the butterflies, while you waited for Daemon to emerge through the tall oak and bronze doors of the Great Hall. It had been four long years since you had last seen him, and at that moment, you realized just how much you had missed him. A deep yearning that gnawed deep in your bones and belly, wondering if he might ever return or, worse yet, that the Crabfeeder may claim his life. Your twin sister, Rhaenyra, stood by your side, her petite hand reaching out to take hold of yours. You offered her an excited smile as you clutched at her hand. The wind felt knocked out of you when he came into view.

His hair was shorn, and it made your heart ache. You had loved his long, silken strands of silver, the way they felt moving through your fingertips, how the soft tresses would tickle your skin and make your heart flutter. He moved with power and purpose, making his way to the Iron Throne, where your father sat. Everyone who crowded the Great Hall stood in awed silence at the Rogue Prince. A coy smile toyed at your lips.

“Add it to the chair,” Daemon smirked, tossing the Crabfeeder’s hammer at Viserys’s feet.

Your eyes were glued on your uncle, tongue darting out to moisten your lips. He was every inch a strong warrior, and the crown of bone that sat on top of his head made you believe he would cut a dashing figure as king. You would not have minded if Daemon had unsheathed Dark Sister and slit your father’s throat then and there. Treasonous thoughts, ones you would keep to yourself..

“There is only one true king,” Daemon uttered before embracing your father, the sound of his voice snapping you from your thoughts.

The celebrations began. You sipped on a cup of sweet wine, savoring the taste as you watched your uncle and father laugh, reminiscing about the days of old. Finally, Daemon’s eyes landed on you, a smile curving across his lips. Rhaenyra chuckled, elbowing you before taking her leave as Daemon stepped over to you. His hand reached out to cup your chin; thumb braced against your lower lip. Blood and heat flooded your cheeks, making your pulse quicken.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, little niece,” he whispered.

“I am a woman grown, uncle,” you chuckled, though you still stood a head shorter than him.

“You will always be such to me. The thought of you is what helped me survive this battle. The thought of your warm body curled against mine staved away the long, lonely nights.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure if you believed his words or if they were just sweet nothings designed to drip honey into your ears. Truthfully, it mattered not. Your heart had always belonged to him. While Rhaenyra had grown further apart from him, her attentions landing on Ser Harwin Strong, your bond with Daemon only deepened.

“I will seek you out this evening, kēlītsos.” This was an endearing pet name when you were younger, and would curl up in his lap like a sweet kitten. Now, it took on a different meaning, for you were a feisty kitten, ready to pounce and claim what was yours. With claws prepared to sink in deep. You may not have been a woman of experience, but you knew what you wanted. Him.

When evening approaches, you are tucked away safely in your chambers. Clad in a cream silk shift with silver hair flowing down your shoulders and ruby-hued slippers on your feet. As you waited for Daemon to arrive, you paced the room, hoping to chase away the nerves. Your scream was muffled as a hand clamped over your mouth, your hand sneaking under your shift to wrap around the Valyrian dagger strapped to your thigh—a nameday gift from Daemon.

“Do you mean to slit my throat, kēlītsos?” Daemon’s voice hissed in your ear. He chuckled as he removed his hand.

“It would have taught you a lesson, kepus,” you huffed, spinning to glare at him, dagger still in hand.

“Come then, show your strength,” he taunted, fire dancing in his lilac eyes.

You stepped closer to him, rolling onto the balls of your feet as you pressed the sharp blade against his neck. He stood firm and still as a rock, regarding you with an amused look. The sharp point dug into his skin, ruby droplets oozing from the broken skin. Still, he did not react. You stood at an impasse, staring him down as you kept the blade in place before; finally, his large hand took hold of your wrist and pulled it away from his neck. The dagger clattered to the floor, and he pulled you close, his hand descending upon your curved rump in a firm yet playful slap of reprimand.

“Do you know, kēlītsos, that they named me King of the Narrow Sea?” he hummed, gathering your shift in his hands and swiftly pulling the garment over your head. You stood bare before him. The cool air made your nipples pebble as an ache throbbed between your thighs.

You batted your lashes, giving him a demure look as you worked your lower lip between your teeth. “You should allow me to show gratitude to my King then. An apology for holding a dagger to his throat.”

You dropped to your knees before him, undoing the belt that secured Dark Sister to his waist. Your nimble fingers undid his breeches, sliding them down to free his cock. You gently held the rigid flesh in your soft palm before lowering your head to press your hot mouth to his stones, gently suckling on the tender skin. Daemon’s fingers fisted in your hair.

“Do you feel how heavy they are? Ready to empty into you, dōnus bykus talus (sweet little niece),” he purred.

You hummed against his flesh, tongue tracing over the plump stones before pulling away to peer up at him, mouth flushed from the attention you paid. “I would love nothing more, kepus, than to be filled to the brim with you. Your spend leaking deep into my womb and dripping down my thighs,” you susurrated, your hands skimming up your stomach to cup your breasts. Your thumbs ran teasingly over your pebbled buds.

A carnal growl erupted through him as he lifted you into his arms to place you on the bed. You spread your thighs, fingers toying with your damp flesh as he finished undressing. You gasped softly as his scarred flesh came into view. One nipple was wholly obscured, resembling a melted mound of pink skin, reminding you of candle wax that hardened in a glob.

“It is long healed, the pain long gone, dōnus talus,” he assured you, climbing on the bed and between your thighs. His fingers explored the planes of your bare skin, savoring the feel and shape of you.

Your fingers gently caressed the mottled flesh; the roughness was foreign to you. Your mouth pressed against the mangled flesh, wanting him to know it did not bother you. It did nothing to tarnish him in your eyes. You felt him shudder from your touch, his hand tenderly cupped the back of your head. Very few were permitted to see this side of him, but he had always allowed you in, even at a young age. He had held you while you wept from your mother’s death, drying your tears and tucking you into bed. He would stay up late, reading with you and teaching you the ancestral tongue.

“Take me, kepus,” you whispered in his ear, teeth nipping at his skin—heated desire clawed deep within your belly. The reward far outweighed the risk. “Fill me with your child.” You had longed for this moment, only exchanging sweet, chaste kisses with him before he was banished from your life for years. You saved yourself for him, wanting him to take your virtue because only a Targaryen man was worthy enough to do so. How similar you both were in those regards.

The tip of his cock slipped through your swollen petals as you begged for him to fill you up. Eventually, he granted your wish, shifting inside you until you felt you might split into two. Your body adapted to the soft throb of pain before your legs wrapped around his waist as he set a steady pace.

His ringed hand cupped your face before he pushed two fingers deep into the confines of your mouth. “I’m going to fill my sweet little princess up; you shall grow round with my child, and the whole court will know that I laid claim to you. With every passing of the moon, I will delight in how round you grow, straining as my seed ripens.”

You whined happily around his fingers, salvia dripping from your mouth. He removed his fingers with a lewd pop before pinning your arms above your head. A strand of hair fell in front of his eyes as he pounded furiously into you, making certain you felt every movement. A delightful ache settled through you as arousal seeped warm and deep.

“Ñuhon, ñuhon, ñuhon (mine, mine, mine),” he grunted, fire flashing in his lilac eyes. His fingers dug into your wrist, sure to leave bruises behind.

“I am yours,” you cried out, back arching in pleasure as you spilled your release across his cock.

With a snap of his hips, he released inside, his seed filling your cunt as you murmured a silent prayer for it to quicken in your womb. The remnants leaked down your inner thighs as he pulled away, lowering his head between your thighs. A soft gasp rolled from your lips as his tongue tenderly lapped your swollen cunt. His head rested on your stomach for a moment, allowing you to manipulate your fingers through his hair, still soft as silk as a familiar tingle ran up your spine. Daemon pulled away to sit on the edge of the bed. Your hands skimmed down your sides, then over your coated thigh, toying with the spend left behind, enjoying the soft squelch it made between your fingers. Once you caught your breath, you wrapped your body around his, face nestling in the crook of his shoulder. His lips grazed over your knuckles.

“Your father has agreed to let me wed you as a reward for my loyalty in the Stepstones,” he murmured, and you gently slapped his bare back.

“Is there a reason you did not inform me sooner?” However, the idea of you being proffered up like a fattened cow as a means of a reward did not sit well with you. However, it worked in your favor—Daemon was the man you had always wanted.

“I was waiting for the opportune moment,” he teased.

“You mean after taking me as if I was a silk street whore?” you scoffed.

“Dōnus bykus talus, I can assure you my heart has never yearned for one of them the way it does for you. My cock and heart belong to you and only you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a soft smile fell upon your lips. You enjoyed that he is yours. Soon, you would ripen with a babe and have Daemon for a husband. What more could you have asked for?

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targaryen-dynasty · 9 months

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FORBIDDEN DELIGHTS.

Daemon Targaryen x female!Reader

Sleeping with Daemon had always been wild and exciting. He had always been just a little too rough, straddling that fine line between unbelievably good and almost too much… until he had learned you were carrying his babe.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; Implied canon typical incest/Targcest (reader speaks high valyrian), p in v, cock warming, lactation kink, lactating, pregnancy, pregnancy sex

WORDS: 2.4 K

Daemon always had been a generous lover, his ample experience really paying off whenever you two were entangled in the bedcovers, or somewhere else, when the burning desire overcame you both. That was the main reason you were with child just three moons after your bedding ceremony.

Sleeping with Daemon had always been wild and exciting. He had always been just a little too rough, straddling that fine line between unbelievably good and almost too much, until he had learned you were carrying his babe.

From then on, he took his time with you, always splaying one hand on your stomach and persistent to take you in no other position than on your back with him between your parted legs.

Sometimes you managed to coax him into allowing you to ride him, but even then his hands always rested on your hips so he could guide your movements and set up the pace.

Tonight was no different, however, your belly was finally starting to swell, just like your breasts. It was ridiculous how much they had swollen over the short time, quite different from the bodies of other women at court at the same stage of pregnancy as you. You blamed it on them not carrying the offspring of a Targaryen, and on your body, as it felt the need to provide enough milk for the little dragon growing up inside of you, even if it still were a few moons until the birth.

Lying on your back with Daemon’s silver-blonde mop of hair between your parted legs, you had your head tipped back, eyes glued to the ceiling. He had been lazily lapping at your folds for too long at this point, not noticing that you were not finding much joy in it anymore, given the lack of variation.

As you looked down at him, you saw that his lilac eyes were fixed on you — just not at your face. And when you glanced down at your bosom, you knew why. Your breasts looked so firm and heavy, entirely ready for him.

There were a few droplets of milk oozing out of your nipples, dripping down your darkened areolas. It had happened before, but only very rarely, and never in Daemon’s presence. While you were certain that he loved every part of your body, you knew that your breasts and arse were his favorites.

The passion and longing in his gaze was enough to send a shiver up your spine, a few more drops of the white liquid dribbling out in sync with your arousal.

Your hand entangled in his soft tresses, and while that touch seemed to be enough to pull him out of his trance, you gave him no time to react as you used the grip to tug him up to hover over you.

He didn't speak as he towered over you, but his questioning gaze was enough to have you chuckling softly. “I want to feel you, husband,” you whispered, cupping his cheeks to pull him in for a tender kiss.

Just like the many times before, you wrapped your legs around his waist so you could easily flip him onto his back. You straddled his hips, his erect member nestled between your soaked cunny and his lower stomach. He did not object, which truly surprised you.

With a few sways of your hips, his cock was coated in the mix of your arousal and his saliva, and you moaned each time the bulbous tip rubbed against your overworked pearl.

Daemon’s hand came up to your hips as you lifted them, gripping the base of his cock to align him with your aching core, eventually sinking down on him.

The delicious stretch was enough for you both to moan out in unison, a shuddering gasp rocking your body. One of your innate instincts was to cup your swollen belly at the sensation, fingers splayed out to support the burgeoning fullness. Not wasting any time, your husband’s hand joined yours, resting atop of it.

Daemon looked like he was created by the Seven. Silver hair disheveled and splayed out around his chiseled features, his scars on full display and muscles twitching each time your core clenched around him.

It was perfectly clear that the Dragon between your legs did not know where to look. His dilated pupils flickering from your face down to where you both were connected, and eventually settled on your bouncing breasts.

Your body seemed to notice your husband’s unabashed interest in them, because they felt even fuller then before. They were too firm and too heavy, practically begging for attention and relief. Daemon waited for you to move, to enjoy the show he was going to receive, however the fullness of your tits didn’t allow you to.

And as a quiet observer, your husband noticed your discomfort.

“Nēdenkus bykus riñus, you should have listened to me,” Daemon growled, voice caught by a particularly tight clench of your walls. Feisty little girl. He bent forward, strong arms wrapped around your middle. As your perky nipples pressed against his sturdy chest you hissed, the sensitive buds prodding against his skin. You felt the milk leaking out of you at the close contact, wetting both your chests, “let me–”

“Daor,” you protested, shaking your head to make a point, to which he just sighed in response. No.

You slowly rocked your hips back and forth, your movements faltering every now and then in response to his closeness and tight grip. His muscles flexed, an indication that it felt good for him but that he just did not like the position and your discomfort that obviously came with it.

“What is it, Y/N?” The annoyance in his voice was audible, and his patience was clearly running thin.

When Daemon’s head tilted upwards and yours bowed forwards, you rested your foreheads against each other, your hips stilling. You had felt bold and confident before and still did, but the thoughts that clouded your mind were too silly for you to speak them aloud. They were indecent.

The loud slap of Daemon’s hand colliding with your backside and the stinging pain that followed after caused you to yelp, staring down at him with wide eyes.

“Nyke eptan ao iā másino,” he remarked sternly. I asked you a question.

You knew you were trapped; there was no escaping him. He affixed his eyes to yours expectantly, pupils dark and blown, waiting for you to answer him. But you figured it was easier to show what was plaguing you, where you needed him.

Tilting your upper body back slightly, your fingers wiped at the thin wet sheen trailing down the firm curve of your breast. Daemon’s eyes eagerly followed your fingers, a distinct growl rumbling in the depths of his chest at the sight, and he groaned with want as if he had been punched in the gut.

The tremulous sounds that left your lips at the soft stimulation of the areola were enough to snap the last lingering threads of Daemon’s resolve.

A few more droplets trickled down your flushed skin, and when you reached to clean your fingers with the bedcovers, Daemon was quick to catch your wrist and bring it up to his lips.

He leaned forward, nuzzling at your fingers to take in the scent of you, before both digits were engulfed by his lips. The taste was sweet and delicate, and better than any Arbor he had tasted before, making him desperate for more.

It wasn’t the first time he had sucked on your fingers, yet, this time, the context was entirely different and purely sinful. You squeezed your thighs together to soothe the burning desire pooling in your belly, and were sharply reminded of him still being inside of you when he bucked his hips up in return.

But Daemon did not stop at that. His large palm came up to cup the swell of your breast. The pad of his thumb brushed your hardened bud, before he applied a bit of pressure to your flesh to coax more milk out of it. He was mesmerized by the sight. You hissed at the contact, but the sound turned into a moan the second his tongue swirled over your teased nipple, cleaning away the slip of fluid that had escaped.

The staccato of your inhales was the only sign of your approval for him to keep going.

When his mouth latched around the tight bud to suck, you couldn’t stop your back from arching into him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bending at the elbow to entangle into the hair on the crown of his head. He was forced to your bosom, you feared that he was close to suffocating. However, you knew that if it was up to him, he’d gladly die that way - with his lips on your tits, suckling on what was solely designated for the babe he had put in your belly.

Your core melted around his rock hard member, and you squirmed on top of him with newfound vigor, spasming around him with each suck of his mouth.

As he pulled back from the bud with a lewd pop, a drop of milk resting in the corner of his mouth, he tilted his head to look up at you for you to give him the reassurance that what he did was what you wanted.

The lack of stimulation caused you to whine, a frown etched onto your features, but when you caught a glimpse of the sight beneath you, you felt a fresh wave of arousal gush out of your core, his lips were swollen and his chiseled features were framed by your full breasts on either side of it.

“Gaomagon jāre, Daemon,” you whined, “ȳdra daor keligon.” Keep going, Daemon. Don’t stop.

Applying a bit of pressure to his head with your elbows, you nudged him forward to encourage him to continue his ministrations, to which he eagerly complied. His hands pressed flat against the narrow planes of your back, nails digging softly into your flesh.

You couldn't stop yourself from crying out mumbled words of praise at the relief you felt when he resumed, this time taking large gulps, the sounds of his messy slurping filling your ears. Knowing you were providing for your unborn babe was good, but it didn’t compare to the feeling of your husband emptying your full breasts.

With every suckle of his lips, you took in a sharp breath, and when his hand came up to squeeze the slowly sagging flesh of your breast, the pressure in it long gone with the amount of milk he had drank, you gently rocked your way through your climax with him suckling you through it.

“Yes–,” you cried out, your sentence cut off by a moan, “just-just like that… please,” you begged. You weren't even sure what you were begging for, since he had already given you all you could’ve ever asked for, but the relief and pleasure his mouth and cock granted you fought the ability to form any coherent thoughts.

You were soaking and pliant, your labored breathing drowning out the squelching sounds of your core repeatedly dragging over his thick length to calm the storm that raged within you. You weren't able to see it, but you felt that he was coated in more than one of your juices. Milk dribbled down the corners of his mouth and chin, whereas his stones and the base of his member were coated in your arousal.

His cock was snugly nestled inside of your warm and wet womanhood, and besides the throbbing and pulsing, it didn't move. It was a welcomed surprise to not have his hips pistoning in and out of you, making it much more bearable to keep him inside of you even after your climax faded.

The previous firmness of your breast was long gone, and only once the spasming of your core around him had subsided, Daemon dared to pull away from you, “ao sylutegon sīr sȳz.” You taste so good.

“Pār gaomagon jāre,” you panted the demand, strands of your long hair clinging to your sweaty skin. Then keep going.

You helped him adjust, nudging him to your other breast.

You were less vocal this time around and just focused on the sensations that coursed through you, noting what elicited which response from your body. His cock still was buried hard and aching inside of you, and you settled into a slow and steady rhythm with his mouth now working your other breast.

Not only you were enjoying this. This strange, illicit act fanned so much heat within Daemon, he slowly but surely felt the familiar tingling at the tip of his cock, sending a shudder through his core.

You felt exactly the same, and when he applied just the edge of his teeth to the sensitive areola, another orgasm crashed over your body in an ambush. You chased your pleasure as if in a dream, oblivious to Daemon being close to tipping over the edge, too.

When you keened and shook against him with the force of your peak, Daemon’s body eventually seized, his cock spending in a burst so strong he withdrew from your breast to unleash a guttural groan.

If it wasn't for you already growing round with his child, you were certain you would’ve been with one after this, his seed filling you up to the brim and leaking out of your spasming hole.

You were tight and warm around him as he tried to drink every last drop of your milk, and with your nipple growing somewhat sore, it proved to be a challenge to get the Rogue Prince to release the sensitive bud.

But when he did, he looked up at you with lust-blown eyes, the familiar lilac replaced by black. You licked your lips, eyes flickering between his and his lips, swollen and covered in the last remnants of your milk, begging for your attention.

Your head bowed down, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, and at the taste of your milk on his tongue, you couldn’t stop the moan from spilling into his mouth. His arms wrapped around your body yet again, pulling you closer against him. And this time, it didn’t feel painful when your breasts were squeezed by his firm chest, causing you to sigh in content.

“Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.

3K notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 3 months

Text

Shared future, prequel – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: When your father told you that you were to wed your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, you didn't realise at first what wonderful moments it would bring you.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fluff; Fingering

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is the prequel to my Smuff story "Shared Future"

Word count: 4.6 k

Other stories of mine

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Daemon looks up when he hears his brother's words.

He can't believe it – what he has longed for so long is about to come true?

"You want me to wed her?" he asks in disbelief.

Visery's eyes are fixed on him. Although Viserys has just announced it, Daemon gets the feeling that perhaps he didn't mean it. But then Viserys nods briefly.

"You yourself told me to find her a betrothed. That it is time to restore House Targaryen to its former strength," Viserys adds.

Daemon processes the words, but hesitates.

"You know I always desired her?" Daemon says. He doesn't know why he says it. Perhaps to annoy Viserys, or perhaps to make it clear that he really desires you.

But Viserys nods again.

"I know..." he says, "It was also the reason why I wanted to prevent you from wedding her in the first place."

Viserys just keeps talking while Daemon raises his eyebrows slightly.

"But I realised that's exactly why you would treat her best"

Daemon is silent for some time, just looking at his brother.

"You would take care of her and wouldn't let anything happen to her"

And now it's Daemon who simply nods.

Daemon leaves the council chamber – he can't believe it. Ever since you had grown into a young woman, you had attracted his attention in a different way. Rhaenyra and you are the princesses of the realm. Young and beautiful, you epitomise what House Targaryen should bring to the realm. And yet you could not be more different. Rhaenyra, wild and bold, and you, gentle and loving.

Daemon finds himself in his chambers, lost in the idea of finally calling you his.

He drinks far too much wine and his thoughts, like his eyesight, begin to blur, but he is sure of one thing. He must see you and talk to you about it. On the way to your chambers, he realises that his blood is beginning to boil at the thought that you were sitting innocently in your chambers, probably just in your nightgown.

He could just take you now. You'd fight back, he knows that. But... he wouldn't. Not yet. With each step, he grows calmer, reassuring himself with the thought that he won't have to wait much longer before you're his. Once he married you, he could claim you as his own and you would be pleased with that.

You sit on your bed and oil your skin. Your skin is still a little damp from the bath as the gentle scent of lavender envelops you while your hands glide over your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you think about that your father announced today that you are to wed your uncle. But before you can think about it any further, you hear a knock. You look up, "Who is it?" you ask.

Daemon waits outside your door and listens to your soft voice. He can already imagine how he could elicit soft tones from you.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and heavy with alcohol.

"Me," he says simply.

He is taking a risk, but he knows what the answer will be.

"Uncle Daemon?" you ask, somewhat incredulously.

You pause briefly in your movements, unable to remember the last time he visited you in your chambers. Whether he ever visited you in your chambers at all.

"Don't you want to come in?" you ask before you can really think about it. Your hands push your nightgown down almost simultaneously.

Daemon grins slightly, his mouth slightly dry. The wine is working on him, putting his mind in a more daring state. He feels the effects of the heat with which his thoughts fill him.

He enters the chambers and closes the door behind him. There is only one thought in his head: to claim you. To take you. If only his brother knew he was entering your chambers at night.

You look at him with your big purple eyes as he enters.

"Are you drunk, Uncle?" you ask with a slight smile as you realise he's having trouble walking straight.

You take more oil and apply it to your calves

Daemon steps closer to you and is now standing right next to your bed. He looks down at you.

"I'm not that drunk, niece," he says quietly, and the alcohol makes him seem much bolder than he otherwise would have been. He looks at you for a moment and then frowns.

"What are you doing with the oil?" He was still watching your movements, imagining what it would look like if he did it for you, how his rough hands would glide over your soft skin... until your voice brought him back to reality.

"Well... Since father just announced that we're getting to be married, you should know," you say, and Daemon looks even more confused. Your eyes are fixed on him as you continue to oil your calves.

"I just took a bath and I oil my skin after every bath, Uncle," you say to him.

Daemon can hear the tone in your voice when you call him uncle, but he's not fazed. You would soon no longer be his niece, but his wife. His next words make his intention clear.

"Well, when you're my wife, you should let me oil your skin..." you hear his slightly slurred words.

He holds out both hands as if to take the oil from you and do it for you.

But you just laugh slightly and take the bottle of oil yourself.

"Well... I'm not your wife yet," you say, but before you can say anything else, you see Daemon stumble slightly again.

"Maybe you should lie down, Uncle?" you ask worriedly.

But Daemon doesn't want to lie down. He has to claim you, his niece. He wanted to take you right away. As he speaks, his speech becomes slurred and he stumbles slightly again, holding on to the bed.

"I'm not that drunk, niece. I won't fall over... don't worry," he mumbles.

But Daemon's mind is somewhere else, he wants to do this, to feel your skin with his hands. He comes closer and tries to snatch the bottle of oil from you again. There's nothing he wants more than to oil your skin.

As you see Daemon move to take the oil bottle from your hand, you realise he's toppling to one side. "Uncle!" you gasp and immediately get up to stop him from falling.

"Let me help you," you say and lightly grab his arm. A low grumble comes from Daemon, but he lets you lead him to the bed.

He sits down, looking almost cute, so drunk.

"Why did you drink so much?" you finally ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

Daemon lets himself fall back onto the bed and looks up at you, eyes slightly closed. He can't help but be drawn to your sweet and loving nature. But still, it's too sweet for his thoughts right now.

He has a feeling he'll regret this tomorrow, but he needs you so much. He looks into your eyes, his words are quiet and it's hard for him to say some of them.

"I want you, niece."

He just said it. No hesitation. No trying to convince you with honeyed words or sweet talk. Just the cold, hard truth. He wants you.

You smile, but you lean slightly towards him. Your hand glides to his cheek, caressing it gently.

"I know... The whispers in the corridors have always made it clear," you say softly. As Daemon internalises your words, his eyes grow wide. You know it?

You just smile and walk around the bed to sit next to him on the bed.

"Is that why you've been drinking?" you ask as you drop onto the bed.

He closes his eyes briefly and nods his head. His voice is still soft.

"I've been drinking because I want to be brave enough to say what I feel"

At the moment, he is finding it difficult to keep his tone calm and not choke on his words.

"I want you." he repeats his words.

He is almost embarrassed to ask this question because he fears how much you would hate him for it, but he has to do it anyway. He opens his eyes with great force and looks at you - "Do you want me as well?"

As these words echo in your room, your breath catches for a moment. You don't know if you want him. What does that even mean... But you smile slightly. Your brave and feared Uncle Daemon seems so vulnerable.

"Well... father told me today that I have to wed you, so I guess that means I want you...?" you ask quietly, a little unsure.

Daemon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His words slur slightly, and he couldn't help but smile at you. Things were going better than he had imagined, and he hoped he hadn't misunderstood the situation.

"What I mean is... do you want me as your husband?"

He wants to know the truth, even if it means you'd reject him.

You think for a moment.

"Well..." you finally say.

"I was always afraid of getting married," you say quietly, "I thought my father would marry me off to an old, fat lord..."

And then you look at him, "But you're neither old nor fat," you say a little cheekily and a smile graces your lips, "So, yes.."

Daemon's smile widens when he hears your cheeky words. Those words were music to his ears. They meant that he would hold you in his arms, that you would soon have his child, that the blood would remain pure. He feels a sense of triumph, the thought that he could have you made his pulse beat faster.

"Then you would wed me..." he says, still smiling. They are such simple words, but they make him feel so much pleasure. As he speaks, his hand moves to your waist and he pulls your body closer to him.

You gasp slightly, but a laugh escapes you as he pulls you closer to him.

"Yes... I wouldn't have a say in it anyway, but yes, I'll be your wife," you say.

You hesitate for a moment and look at him.

"But what do you think of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean... I am younger than you?"

Daemon puts his other hand around the back of your neck and pulls you even closer to him. He likes that you're so much younger than him, so naive in that sense. It means he can transfer his desires to you more easily. His grip on your neck tightened a little and he speaks softly, but he doesn't take his eyes off you.

"Age doesn't matter in these things," he murmurs softly.

His hand runs up and down your body and he feels how soft you are against his hand.

You giggle slightly, his fingers lightly tickling your skin.

"But you've always said that your young nephews and nieces are just little brats..." you say, "They're not much younger than me..."

Daemon smiles slightly, your words making him laugh. You were a smart girl, despite your innocence. He can imagine you could be a bit of trouble, but that wasn't a bad thing. You're funny.

His hand still glides along your body.

"There's a difference between children and you... You're a woman now. An attractive woman..." he whispers, but his words are still slightly slurred.

He becomes bolder in his touch and pulls you even closer to him so that your body almost presses against his.

You smile and blush slightly. His hands feel good on your body, but you're nervous – no one has ever touched you like this before.

"Uncle...?" you whisper.

Daemon smiles even more, he can literally sense that you're a little nervous. That would make you even more submissive. He notices how you blush, and that makes him want you even more.

He speaks softly, in his deep voice.

"Tell me... What does my niece want?"

In response to his question, he lets his hands glide even deeper over your body.

You hesitate for a moment. You feel a warmth inside you as his fingers continue to glide over your body.

"I... I'm still a maiden..." you whisper, "I've never kissed anyone before..."

And you gasp slightly as his hand suddenly grabs your bum. Your eyes meet and you become even more nervous.

"Can we wait until we are wed?" you suddenly whisper. Your nervousness gets the better of you and you're not sure where lying in bed with your uncle like this will lead, but you're sure you shouldn't do it until you're husband and wife.

Daemon is still smiling, your soft bum in his hand. Your words are exactly what he was hoping for. A maiden! His lips twist into a mischievous smile as you speak, his tone brimming with lust, "My niece is a maiden?"

His hand squeezes your bum even tighter as he speaks, but as you look into his eyes, he is caught by your purple eyes and his face softens.

"You want me to wait until you're my wife?"

He asks quietly, but surprised, the delicate scent of wine on his breath. How could he wait when you are pure temptation? But you just nod slightly.

"Yes... I mean... Everyone says it's nothing special and that women wouldn't enjoy it anyway..." you whisper.

"But I want it to be special... and when we're wed..." you whisper.

Daemon is surprised at how pure you are, almost shocked. He hadn't expected you, a princess, to have no experience at all. Your innocence was like gold to him.

"If that's what you want, niece…" he finally speaks in a slow voice that is both gentle and demanding. Then his hand slowly slides down from your bum to your thigh. It sounded like you had set your terms, but they were acceptable to him, a fair compromise. With any other maiden, he would have pushed the desire to the extreme until he got what he wanted. But you're not just any girl, you're his beloved niece. He doesn't want it to be all about him – he wants you to enjoy it too.

You nod and smile slightly, "Yes..." you whisper.

His fingers glide over your body again and you can't take your eyes off him. His eyes follow his fingers as they glide gently over the fabric of your nightgown. But his dreamy eyes are distracted when your voice rings out.

"But... do you think it would be wrong to try..." you say softly, hesitating as you blush, "...I mean... I've never kissed anyone before"

You sound as innocent as a young woman can be, and that arouses him so much.

"It would be wrong to try..." he whispers, and for a moment you feel bad for asking such a thing, until he speaks his next words, "...Because then I'd want more"

You gasp slightly as he speaks softly. His tone is almost pleading, filled with desire that grows by the second. He tries to hold back as best he can.

"But just kiss me, I won't push you for more..." he murmurs suddenly, leaning closer to you and again, you gasp slightly, but nod as he leans closer to you.

Your teeth lightly clamp around your lip as his hand slides to your neck and gently grips it. Daemon holds your neck ever so gently, running his thumb lightly over your cheek. He comes even closer, his thumb now gently caressing your lip. His breath was soft and even on your mouth now.

His voice is filled with all the desire a man could feel.

"Come on... Kiss me, niece. Just one peck...," he murmurs softly.

You exhale heavily, but then you lean forward. Your lips meet and you breathe heavily.

You could be bursting with nervousness, your heart trying to burst out of your chest. But after a short time, you slowly calm down – the calm that radiates from Daemon takes you over completely.

His thumb is still gently caressing your cheek and your lips just touch. His lips are soft, and you never thought lips could be so soft. But then Daemon moves his lips slightly. Slight nervousness flares up in you again, but you just try to follow his movements. Until his tongue suddenly touches your lips and you gasp slightly.

The way you kiss is so sweet and innocent, yet with a hint of arousal. It made Daemon's breath catch in his throat. At first he just wanted to tease you and indulge in the sweet caresses of his young niece.

He had tried to be patient and let you take the lead. But as his tongue touches your lips, the wine in his body takes over and he feels you gasp as he continues. His hand slides from the back of your neck to the back of your head, into your hair – and begins to guide you as he slowly slides his tongue into your mouth.

You are overwhelmed as his tongue slides into your mouth.

Your tongues touch and the feeling is indescribable. Such soft yet firm movements. So warm and yet somehow moist. You whimper slightly as his tongue moves further and his hand grips your hair tighter.

His other hand now moves slightly downwards, travelling to your thigh. He tries to give you the same pleasure you give him and starts to move his finger up your thigh.

You pull your head back, your breathing heavy as his fingers caress the inside of your thighs.

His eyelids are half closed as you search for his gaze. A warmth you can't describe spreads through you as his fingers continue to caress you – a questioning expression on your face.

Daemon enjoys it, every little thing you do is so satisfying and pleasurable in so many ways. Your innocence and submissiveness are so pleasing to him. His fingers slowly work their way up the insides of your thighs, getting closer to your womanhood with every caress. He watches your face the whole time. Your lips slightly parted and your eyes staring at him, you look slightly nervous. You don't know what to expect from this, and he liked that. He wanted you to learn.

A gasp echoes through your chambers as his fingers suddenly reach their destination, pressing gently against your womanhood. You grab his biceps, breathing heavily.

You've never felt anything like this before.

Daemon savours the sound of your gasp, almost as much as your hand gripping him. Your body tenses as he moves his fingers slightly and continues his caress. His words are almost like a sweet whisper in your ear, "There's still so much to learn, niece. I look forward to teaching you," he smiles with pure desire on his face.

And it grows with every movement he makes, with every little reaction from you. He's more daring now, his fingers move faster and suddenly you moan quietly. You look at him, slightly startled by the sound that leaves you. But the shock doesn't last long as his aimed movements make you moan again. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his arm.

"Is... is this okay? What we're doing here..." you whimper and a chuckle escapes Daemon.

A mischievous grin crosses his face. Your reaction is exactly what he had hoped for. You felt joy where you had only expected pain. Your eyes are still wide with excitement and maybe even a little fear. You're a little naive, but in such an endearing way.

"Yes. That's all right and natural..." he says in a voice of pure desire, his voice now just a murmur. He breathes faster, he wants more, but he wants to take his time.

The feeling becomes more and more overwhelming and you don't know where to put your hands so that they end up resting on his chest. You moan again as his fingers move faster. He likes making you feel like this and he likes seeing and experiencing your reactions. He sees your toes wiggle and your mouth open slightly. He enjoys it so much that he almost loses control of himself... The part of his brain that's trying to stay in control tells him to tease you, to make you beg for it, to make you scream. But somehow he resists. This moment is too precious for him.

But suddenly his finger slides into you and you whimper. You look at him, you're breathing heavily and then he leans forward again and kisses you. He growls slightly and you whimper in response. He savours every sound you make as you experience all this for the first time. You are so beautiful, so gentle and innocent, and this is his reward for waiting to split you open with his cock.

But still, his finger slides in and out of you slowly, taking his time, trying to make this a slow but perfect experience for you. He can feel your wet walls tightening around his finger, your tightness adjusting to his finger, he growls softly. Everything about it turns him on, not just your body, but the sweet sounds you make, and he takes each one in and would never forget it.

His finger moves slowly and rhythmically, creating more sounds from you, his finger soaked by now.

"Uncle..." you whimper softly and he kisses you again. Your hands on his chest grab his shirt and your whimpering continues. Your hand slides to his neck, pulling him closer to you – it feels so good for you. You just want to feel something like this with him... you need more.

Daemon just grins as he feels you pull him closer to you and your thighs spread slightly, making it easier for him to thrust his finger into you. Your moans and whimpers arouse him immensely, and that makes him even more eager to please you.

His finger moves faster, thrusting deeper into you. With the same eagerness, he let his tongue wander into your mouth as he pulled his finger out of you, only to push it back in. He growls again and pushes you back onto the bed and with one movement, he pushed himself between your legs, kneeling gently between them.

A gasp escapes you between your moans. Your eyes are fixed on him as he moves between your legs. His heavy breathing echoes through your chambers as he kneels between you and pushes his finger inside you again. But this time he adds another finger.

You cry out slightly as you feel the pressure. You whimper and reach for his arm. Daemon notices your slight discomfort immediately and bends down slightly. His lips slide onto yours and you whimper into his mouth as he growls slightly. His fingers slowly but purposefully find their way inside you and slowly the slight pain becomes pleasure. Daemon fels your walls clench around his fingers, your inner muscles spasm as he begins to move his fingers faster.

Daemon breaks away from the kiss and watches your face closely. He senses how sensitive you are. But the sounds that escape you as he guides his fingers inside you are like warm music to his ears. He wanted to hear you make those sounds again and again.

He moves his fingers further, daring to go deeper and find the perfect rhythm. Daemon smiles, he's enjoying this so much. Your breathing quickens and your grip on his arms tightened as he teases you. Daemon leans forward again and thrusts his finger harder into you. Your purple eyes meet and he sees pure desire in your gaze, with a hint of shame.

You can't suppress your uncontrollable moans as his fingers thrust faster. His other hand held your thigh, but then slid to your warm core. Light pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves follows and makes you cry out again as his fingers continue to penetrate you.

Your thighs begin to tremble slightly and a pressure builds up in your abdomen. You don't know what's happening to you, but you trust Daemon. His eyes are fixed greedily on you, as if he's expecting something from you, but you don't know what.

Daemon's breath gets heavier as he watches you, you are so innocent but your reactions turn him on so much. He's enjoying your first experience together so much and he knows you are as well.

He moves his fingers faster and harder. His deliberate movements on your bundle of nerves rub your wetness, make you moan louder, he wants to see you squirm.

He can feel the tension building up in your body, your walls clenching around his fingers again and again. His body is full of energy and he begins to growl with desire. He can't wait any longer, he's so aroused by the sounds you're making, your eyes wide and beautiful. He knows you're close.

When he feels your whole body start to tremble, your thighs want to close around his hands and your eyes roll back, he just smiles. He would make this good for you. He continues to move in the same rhythm, hitting just the right spot, and you're about to experience the most powerful thing you've ever experienced.

You cry out slightly as your damp walls almost crush his fingers. You don't know what's happening, but a wave of pleasure floods through your body. You moan and whimper, his fingers still moving slightly and you grip his arm tighter. He leans down and bite your neck lightly. His growls becoming louder, just hearing you moan and whimper is doing enough for him now.

"Uncle Daemon..." you whimper and look at him as he sits up again, breathing heavily. Daemon just smiles, he's just given you your first climax.

His fingers move slower now, and his eyes watch you with a smug expression as he whispers, "It'll be like this every night when you're my wife..."

You blush even more as he says these words.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper slightly.

Still breathing heavily, you look at him.

"Every... Every night...?" you whisper a little breathlessly.

Daemon grins as he looks at you, so flushed and breathless. He savours the thought that this would happen every night. He loves being able to teach you, and he knows he would enjoy giving you new experiences.

"Every night... And sometimes every day..." he says in a soft voice as he continues to smile, "But only if you're a good wife..." he whispers with that mischievous smile.

You gasp indignantly, but smile slightly. Exhausted, Daemon drops onto the bed next to you and stares at you. "I'll be the best wife possible," you finally say.

He grins again, you're always good at obeying. He puts his arms around you, pulls you closer.

"Good..." he murmurs.

He moves his head close to your face and your lips almost touch. His breath is almost warm and then he lets his lips brush your cheek and whispers softly in your ear.

"And to a good wife many things will be given..."

You blush even more, but giggle slightly as he grabs your bum again. He pulls you further towards him and your lips meet almost automatically.

Daemon smiles a little at your giggle, you still seem a little shy to him, and he liked that. You were so pure.

He moves his hand down to your thigh and slowly slides his fingers back between her legs to tease her again – and this would be repeated on many more nights.

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Tag list:

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary

1K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 5 months

Text

Not All That Glitters is Gold

prompt: during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he holds choice words about you. or finding out he calls you clingy behind your back.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: cursing, draaaama, mild angst, AU timeline technically, hurt and comfort (reader don't play those games i guess), relationship angst, half edited.

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

His cloak was a shimmering beacon of golden glimmer even in the dark of night. It promoted an air of confidence and swagger, something independent from his usual cockiness. No, with that gold cloak, he walked as if the very air you all breathed was produced by him; being silent and domineering in his presence. It had been something you were initially attracted to, his alluring mystery and overwhelming stoic self-awareness.

He moved around the Throne Room like wings were gifted to his feet, carrying him with lithe movements to look as if gliding. All eyes were on him, whether out of admiration, jealousy, confusion, or lust - eyes followed him no matter where he went, no matter what he did, who he interacted with. You lifted the heavy gold goblet to your lips, taking a careful mouthful of wine before setting it down, swallowing, and standing from your seat at the banquet table.

You wanted your lover, so, you got up to satisfy your craving.

You approached him as he spoke to a pair of noblemen, slowing your gait to ease your arrival and not cause a surprise. Your dress was something a little more alluring, more revealing than you'd usually wear, and as you approached the men, the eyes not belonging to your new fiancé nearly bulged from their skulls.

Daemon turned his head and saw you, smirking as his arm opened and he welcomed you into his side. "I was beginning to wonder where you got off to," you told him softly, one arm around his hips as the other planted your hand against his chest. "The Aunties have descended and are becoming insufferable, I fear I needed reprieve."

Daemon grinned, sounding amused, "It was a matter of time before they found you. Stick with us, darling, the Aunties will stay away."

"They're about to serve dinner," you told him, "perhaps we should find our seats?"

He nodded, looking at the men he had been speaking to before you showed up. Daemon bid politely, offering no other explanation besides, "Excuse us, gentlemen."

They bowed out of their Prince's way, letting Daemon lead you toward the head banquet table (again) where his brother, King Viserys, was sitting with other prominent members of court. The night had been pleasant, everyone rejoicing in the upcoming nuptials between you and the Rogue Prince. For years, he'd been something chaotic and shunned; and after the passing of his first wife, Rhea Royce, he was like a kite cut from string. Loose and set adrift. Wild and out-of-reach. And then you came back into Daemon's life after not seeing one another since you were ten-and-six, and all of a sudden, the Rogue Prince was something more domesticated.

It was a refreshing change, albeit totally uncharacteristic for Daemon.

Viserys was the most shocked of them all, constantly praising you for whatever you had done to his brother to reel him into a controllable pace. He thought you and Daemon were perfect for one another, likened you two to fit-together puzzle pieces. The King had been more than happy to host the celebrations, starting with tonight, an engagement party! You had to play part of dutiful fiancé and upstanding citizen since you were to inherit a royal title; being poised and collected at all times with either a calm, passive expression or one of bright entertainment.

"Here, love," Daemon whispered, pulling your chair out for you. He waited until you were sat before taking his own seat, sighing when he glanced around the table only to settle his gaze on you.

"What's wrong, my Dragon?" You asked softly, leaning in to place your hand over his on his lap; pressed into his side despite the wooden chair arms between you.

"Just amusing," he mused, "most of these Lords and Ladies had much to say about my first marriage, and now, they break our bread to celebrate us."

"Cannot be the first time someone's tried to suck up to you," you chuckled, moving your conjoined hands in your lap. "The dragon does not concern himself with the opinion of the sheep," you advised smartly, "they only tolerate the sheep because one day, the dragon will need to feast - hmm?"

Daemon smirked, "When did you become so insightful, darling?"

"I've always been, you're just pussy-whipped now that I make a lot more sense."

He laughed, letting a servant pour your wine. In your ear, he mused, "Jest all you want, but you were meant to be a Targaryen. Once we are wed, I will plant my seed, and bind us together for eternity."

"Our marriage wouldn't doing exactly that already?"

"A child is more tangible - it's a bloodline."

You shrugged as a plate of blood-red lobster was set in front of you. Viserys truly went all out - giving a wide variety of foods to taste. "A marriage is for life, though," you countered.

"So is a child."

"Until they are married off."

Conversation continued, flowing easily between the family members and patrons of court. Viserys looked pleased, enjoying the celebration as his ailment often caused him grave pain and he could not attend events. He hardly had reason to smile, but when he watched you feed a bite to Daemon, he let his lips spread without thought. Queen Alicent clocked the King's expression, glancing at you and Daemon, then smiled fondly before reaching for her husband's hand.

Throughout the dinner, Rhaenyra watched you and Daemon with a bitter glare on her face; jaw locked and lips pursed. You ignored her obvious displeasure in favor of your husband, both too enraptured with one another to ever pay attention to the Princess' distain. When the meal was over, the dancing, mingling, drinking, and musical portion of the evening commenced.

And cake. Cake was to be served.

Daemon's golden cloak swept around guests as you both played dutiful host for your party, and mingled with those who arrived tonight to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. You did your best to keep up with the plethora of Lords and Ladies, like Daemon did so effortlessly, but it was a lot. You still held your own, but by Gods, there was a lot of people in attendance tonight and there was noway you could remember any names.

Thankfully, while Daemon was caught in a conversation with Ser Gerold Royce, you eventually made it to a small group of familiar faces: Princess Rhaenyra, Ser Harwin Strong, his brother, Larys, Lady Laena Velaryon, and her twin, Ser Laenor.

You graciously received the compliments, well-wishes, and joyful greetings of them all, but acutely noted the Princess did not offer even so much as a polite greeting. "This dress was made for you, it's just darling," Laena complimented, petting the bodice. "It must've cost a fortune."

"It was a gift from Daemon," you told her with a soft smile. "And the necklace, too! See?" You showed her, "He had it custom made, it's Valyrian Steel with embedded jewels."

"The perfect combination of your Houses, and a gorgeous piece of art to hang on such a gorgeous neck," she praised, but it was Princess Rhaenyra's scoff of annoyance that peaked your interest.

You thanked Laena Velaryon before eyeing Rhaenyra. "Princess?" You questioned. "If I may ask you something, plainly?"

"By all means."

"Have I... Upset you in anyway?"

"You mean beside my uncle spending the Crown's coin to buy you something exquisitely made; being a fleeting, lady interest of the Princes'? No, no, nothing's wrong," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What is this distain you hold towards me - towards my relationship with Daemon?" You demanded, the alcohol in your system spurring you on despite knowing the looming consequences of offering a member of the Royal family sharpened words.

"Truly? You wish to know why I do not fawn over you as others?"

"They do not fawn, oh - " You stopped yourself, sighing deeply and correcting yourself, "Of course I wish to know what the issue at hand here is, Princess, I do not wish for ill-will between us. I wish to resolve this."

"In truth, I simply do not understand it, this - this sham of a wedding," she snapped. "Daemon might buy you pretty things, but it's only out of guilt."

"What guilt could he possibly - "

"He finds you overwhelming, overbearing, suffocatingly clingy. So, with his distain, he, too, felt fleeting guilt - being why he showers you with gifts, it's for his own conscious. But if you ask me why I host such distain towards this union, it is because I know my uncle is not happy with your overwhelmingly clingy behavior. He's voiced his displeasure many-a-time. Not just to me, but to the King and Queen, as well."

You felt shell-shocked, acutely aware of the lingering eyes of the audience around you. You worried: how many of them had heard this rumor, how many secretly pitied you? Finding your voice, you managed to squeak out, "I beg your pardon?"

Rhaenyra only shrugged, "You asked, I answered."

"I see," you cleared your throat. "And your answer is that my betrothed has, what, started to slander my name behind my back?"

"Indeed. His chief complaint is how you seem to cling to him more and more, and he doesn't have the heart to push you away more than he already has. You're the one daft enough to not take a hint."

"And where do you get your information from?"

"Daemon, himself."

Your mind raced with all the little things: how Daemon would release your person during public events, avoid physical touch, ignore you sometimes, shut down your woes (call that gaslighting), how he stiffened at times you took his arm, how he seemed to shut down and only offer bored 'mmhms' when you spoke to him about your life. Your heart sank to your feet as you realized there were some truths to Rhaenyra's words.

You nodded slowly as Daemon chose that moment to approach your awkward group. His arm slithered around your waist, but you were silent as the grave and stiff as the corpse in said grave. Your mind raced with the idea that Rhaenyra could just be fucking with you, but the also with the idea that all she said was true.

"I'm going to retire for the evening, I've a headache," you told Daemon, finding an easy way out of his grip, "but you stay, enjoy the celebration. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am just tired."

He agreed and gently kissed you - sure to remain modest but still affectionate. "I'll visit you tonight," he muttered in your ear.

"No, I am truly tired," you told him softly but sternly. "We'll see each other tomorrow."

He hummed, "Then I shall walk you out - "

"No, you're needed here to save face. Go, mingle, play nice," you dismissed him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You bid whoever you came across a good and safe night; thanking them for their attendance tonight. After thanking the King for hosting the party, you disappeared, taking a few secret passages to avoid the main hustle-and-bustle of the feast. When you arrived in your room, you slammed the door, bolted it, and leaned against it for a good long moment. Your mind was reeling with all kinds of thoughts regarding your intended, his niece, all of it suddenly feeling very overwhelming.

You were exhausted, so, you swiftly stripped, unpinned your hair, refused your maid's help, and soaked in a long, hot bath. After, you settled into bed with a book, and tried not to overwhelm yourself with the anxiety tomorrow would bring.

About an hour later, you heard Daemon knocking at your passage door. You paused, not making a sound, hearing his muffled voice, "Love? My love, are you awake?"

You didn't answer.

"Please, sweet girl, let me in," he begged quietly.

When you wrenched the door open, you seethed, "NO!"

"What - ?"

"I heard plenty tonight from your niece. In your moments of frustration, you know what? Sure, complain about your woes - but to find out you call me clingy when in regard to my affection - that's not something I'm going to be happy hearing, Daemon!"

"I know, but let me explain - "

"What? What will you say? That you just needed someone to talk to? To vent your feelings? I get that - I really do. But you fully offered slander to my name, to our relationship; to who I am as a partner. Your poisoned words of your irritation is soaked into your family, in the courts. And now, I must endure the pity those will offer knowing my husband truly holds distain for me!"

"No, you've got it wrong, I don't - "

"Then why!?" You demanded, voice cracking. "Why say those things? Why not come to me and communicate you're not comfortable with this and that behavior!? I won't know unless you tell me, so, instead of talking your shit to the courts and your family, why not just speak to me!?"

"I should have!" He admitted quickly. "I should have, I know that, and it was my mistake, my love. But I regret it, I regret feeling so, so - I don't know! Sure, let's call it frustrated, irritated, I don't care, I just needed it off my chest!"

"I understand that fully, but being as we're to marry one another, I should be the one listening to you when you need something off your chest. You should talk to me. And if I'm the one you need to speak about, choose more trustworthy confidants that do not need further reason to despise me!"

"What're you...? What? What does that mean?"

"Rhaenyra, Daemon! Your niece, Rhaenyra! Every-fucking-thing you've said to her, she remembers, and holds it against me! You forget, when you speak to family about the woes of your relationship, that's all they remember. You get to make up with me, we get to move on, but because you needed t'vent to them, that's what they can hold against me. Do you even wish to marry me, still!?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Then something needs to change," you deadpanned, exhausted by this. "I refuse to be belittled, spat on, and disrespected by your niece any longer."

"I will speak to her."

"Yes, you will! This is far too out of hand! She has weaponized your frustration to drive a wedge between us, and she chose a public event with an audience to lob it all at me!"

"What truly happened with Rhaenyra? What was so bad?"

"Daemon, she called me out for 'being clingy' in front of an audience! At our engagement celebration! Do you know how humiliating that was!? I'm more embarrassed than angry!"

He nodded, "I'll handle this. I swear, my darling, this will be resolved."

"You know what?" You breathed. "Do whatever you please because I've realized something. Not only did Rhaenyra spew our business to others, but you... You said it in the first place. You said those words..."

"Out of anger - "

"But you still spoke them!"

"I was foolish to do so!"

"You are a fool for many reasons, Daemon, but this is one act I am not willing to forgive so blindly. Wear your jester hat all you'd like, but it will take more than pretty words to make this up to me."

"I'll do what it takes to fix this." He tried to step into the room with you, but you held your ground in the doorway. "My love, please, how can I make it up to you if you do not let me in?"

"You must find any other way to do this because there's no chance in any of the Seven Hells that you share my bed again - married or not." You offered him a look of distain, musing, "You know what, I've decided: I simply don't care what you or your family thinks. I am extremely proud of who I am, and there's not a soul alive that can make me feel lesser than. Your words hurt, they cut deeper hearing it from the Princess, but that's simply your opinion," you eased. "I refuse to modify myself, but it's good to know you don't like my affection - I can always reserve it for whoever I choose to warm my bed. What was it you said?" You quipped venomously, "Marriages are political arrangements?"

"Not ours," he snapped.

"Oh? We're so different, are we?" You laughed.

"Of course we are, there's nothing I'd change. Hear me? Nothing," he sounded angry. "I was a fool to speak out of term, but you're right, I should talk to you about it - I am simply unequipped to having a wife I've chosen."

"Oh, spare me - "

"It's true," he insisted, "what woman in my life has loved me as you do? Has encouraged me to be so - so - loving and safe?"

"Apparently, I've been clingy and not as encouraging as I thought."

"I spoke out of turn," he insisted. "You're right - I can't go and take back what I've said. But I will do all I can to ensure I change their opinions on you, to mop up whatever verbal mess I've made."

You laughed without humor.

"And I will set Rhaenyra straight about all of this, I will ensure she knows that there's no room for such tension, jealousy, hatred."

"You swear to clean up all your messes?" You wondered earnestly.

"I swear."

"Good," you mused, "after that, how do you intend on rebuilding my trust?"

Daemon blinked, "You do not trust me anymore?"

"Of course not," you assured, "not since finding out how you speak of me so hatefully without my knowledge. That's where trust comes in, Daemon, but you proved me wrong, and now, that trust is gone."

Daemon looked confused, mouth opening and closing rapidly, shaking his head, "No, no, no, love, don't do this. We're okay, all right? We're fine, things with us - we're fine. We're okay."

"Saying it doesn't make it true."

"Do not tell me," He snapped. "H-Have I lost you?"

"Mhm. Not saying you can't fix things between us, but as of now, there's nothing about you I can trust."

"And if you cannot trust me, can you love me?"

You paused, considering his words. Honestly, his betrayal was something that hurt worse than anything you've endured before. "I'll have to think about that one," you whispered. With a saddened look, you hugged the door, sighing, and bid, "Goodnight, my Prince."

"My sweet - don't shut me out. Don't do this."

"Find a way to make this all up to me," you demanded, "because I'd hate for either of us to eventually resent this marriage, too."

He tried to argue but you shut the door on him forcefully; loudly locking it from the inside to prevent him from following you. You felt yourself brimming with anger, but nothing was like the betrayal coursing through your heart and veins. There was no sleep that night, there was a lot of tears, a lot of pacing, and a lot of grumbling to yourself.

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thebadboyfanclub · 9 months

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I Don’t Think I Can Do This (Daemon x Reader)

Hey y’all so I know I was supposed to write another request but my job has cause my imagination to ran dry and this was certainly easier cause i wanted to write something that shows the burden that women carry and also that Daemon is a very grey character, I hope you guys like it

The story of (y/n) Eaglemore and Daemon Targaryen did not start as a love story, one would suppose that seems to be a common trait amongst the concept of arranged marriages, especially to a young maiden of an independent kingdom to the rogue prince Targaryen, their marriage was the establishment of Eaglemore joining their forces with the Targaryens, (y/n) was dressed in her traditional attire with her hair in an intricate style, she was breath of fresh air in the house of the dragons, a proud Eagle that was brave enough to fly with the dragons as the flag with the colors of red and black flew next to the black and red she assumed the similarities were bound as an omen for success.

That was quickly ripped out of her mind at the bedding ceremony that she endured, the prince was not brutal, yet she had hoped that he would forbid it, he was cold and only placed a kiss at the top of her head after it was done before he left her laying while the ones that observed it cleared the room, tears streamed down from embarrassment while the handmaidens helped her get up to assist her with her bath.

“Husband!”

She exclaimed excitedly before she skipped over to Daemon who was preoccupied with having a conversation with Viserys was much more important than turning his head to face her, alas the newlywed stood by his side and reached for his hand to get his attention, innocently she squeezed it only to be met with an annoyed expression as he gazed intensely at her.

“What?! (Y/n)! Did they not teach basic manners in your homeland?”

“I-I just, I wanted to give you this, I sewed it for you, it’s the dragon symbol with the eagle”

“Great, give it to the handmaidens, is that all?”

Suddenly she became hyper-aware of the pie of eyes around her, mostly men that had taken interest in the scene that unfolded in the gardens, she felt like a little girl scolded by her father, she bit her lower lip as her shoulders sunk in defeat, the glimpse in her eyes slowly disappearing like a light snuffed out.

“My apologies, I did not wish to interrupt you and the king, I hope you can forgive me, y-your grace”

“It is quite alright, my dear, for what it’s worth I found your creation a wonderful gift, do not pay attention to daemon he has never been good with gifts”

“If that means I have never been good with gifts that have no use then yes, I agree”

“I shall go, excuse me, your grace, husband”

She curtsied before she ran off, her chocolate-colored hair swinging left and right in her ponytail as her eyes looked down to hide the tears that she desperately held back, Daemon watched her and could sense the damage he had caused, sometimes he would catch himself staring at her with purity and interest, he had even smiled once when she struggled to find the right word in his language.

He should have stopped, he should have held his tongue when the evident quiver of her chin started to show when her eyes bounced in different directions as she wanted to gather her composure, but he didn’t, now Daemon stood as still as a grain of salt whilst she once again ran away from him covered in shame.

“She is your lady wife Daemon, must you be so hard on her?”

“A wife that was bestowed to me”

“She is also someone that was bestowed a spouse, yet she took it with grace and is grasping desperately to create the best out of the worst, as a man that prides himself on his intelligence your lady wife has surpassed you, at least in principle and empathy”

Daemon was stunned, as Viserys spoke in such kind words his words slashed through Daemon like the sharpest of knives, this was Daemon's second marriage, and it had become second nature to be rude and unattainable to his lady wife since the bronze bitch shared the same hatred as he did for her, now the cheerful lady with the deer like eyes and red puffy cheeks had been nothing but kind, a foreign pain in his chest started to make Daemon uneasy as she ran further and out of his line of sight.

“If I were you I would be very ashamed”

(Y/n) sat in front of the mirror as one of her handmaidens lit her candles and the other brushed (y/n)s hair to prepare her for bed, (y/n) stood as still as she could though her fingers intertwined with one another and twisted in odd ways.

“Could you leave me with Chiara, please? Thank you”

(Y/n) requested softly, the young handmaiden only curtsied before she walked out of (y/n)s chamber, whilst Chiara continued to brush her hair, they had grown into a bond that (y/n) felt comfort in, Chiara was sweet and honest, somewhat older, and had just given birth to her first child, she was the first handmaiden that she met when she got to the red keep.

“Do you love your lord husband?”

“I do, now”

“What do you mean?”

“I married him per my father's request, and he gave the biggest dowry, at first it was difficult, we had to figure out a way to communicate and after a while, I like to think that he grew to love me as much as I love him, though first, we respected one another, then love came gradually”

(Y/n) grew silent, her head hanging low before she bit her lip in defeat, she respected her lord husband? Did her lord husband respect her? After the incident on the morrow, it certainly didn’t feel like it.

(Y/n) had not noticed that Chiara had scrounged in front of her and placed her hands over (y/n)s, she only saw the tears that splashed over the handmaidens' skin.

“You won’t always feel like the outsider”

“I don’t think I can do this”

“You can, it is alright my dear”

One sob came after the other as (y/n)s body shook and Chiara lovingly wrapped her arms around the lady’s frame in such delicacy, it resembled a girl hugging her porcelain doll while she tried to not crack it, in its macabre nature you could identify a certain beauty, someone that had the strength to comfort a disheveled young lady as she navigated through womanhood and all its trials.

What had (y/n) nor Chiara had taken into account was that Prince Daemon had made his way to the half-cracked door, freezing in his sport once the whimpers of agony hit his ears, he peaked through the shadows only to be met with his lady wife letting tears stain her dress and hiccups shaking her hunching back as the handmaiden rubbed circles on her back.

“Prince Daemon is a fool for not acknowledging the precious stone that is you, may the gods bless him and open his eyes before he is taken from us”

Daemon had no reason to intervene, the poor lady was right, he was a fool, here she was, a beautiful and intelligent young royalty crying over his acts, he had always longed for home, for family, and now he kicked and toyed with it.

He should be the one comforting his lady wife, to gaze upon (y/n)s puffy and red face and do his best to calm her nerves, not to be the face of her pain, shamefully he scurried away without a word, mad at his reflection that stared back at him in such high horse, he had become everything he hated, a man that did not care about anyone but himself, stopping at nothing to prove he was right.

“Good morrow”

(Y/n) did not respond, she only raised her head and nodded at Daemon that had just entered the dining area, exhausted from crying the lady felt like a family of horses had run over her, getting barely a wink of sleep, evidently so by the veins under her eyes.

(Y/n)s silence was deafening to Daemon, however, he cleared his throat and took a sit next to his lady wife, waiting for a servant to pour him some wine.

“Orange juice? I believe we do not grow these over here”

“A gift from my mother, she said orange juice in the morning is a secret to a woman’s beauty”

“She must be the most astonishing lady back in your line”

“You met her, on our wedding feast, I believe you were too busy to pay attention, like always”

The last comment was barely above a whisper still sharp as a knife right on Daemon's abdomen, Daemon only turned his gaze at her, confused by her demeanor, it wasn’t uncalled for yet it took him by surprise, she always seemed to have the ability to hide her agony at least in public.

“Mayhaps we could go to her, I’m sure she will be more than happy if her daughter visited her”

“Not if my belly is flat, as much as she wanted me to be thin for most of my life she is now sending raven after raven to just check in with my monthly bleeds”

She informed him in a mumbling tone while her hand was rubbing circles on her temples, visibly annoyed over her mother's disregard for her well-being and hyper-focused on her womb.

Daemon was taken back by her comfortability to speak over her monthly visits, brushing it off easily though since they were husband and wife after all, those matters should concern him as well, the idea of a sweet little child running to (y/n)s arms brought him joy.

“It must be uneasy, being put in this position”

“Indeed and if I am being honest, my lord husband has not been making it any easier, with my empty womb nor his attitude”

“I understand you are cross with me”

“Can you blame me? You humiliated me”

Her tone switched from my king to a hiss, her eyes spewing fire as she stared back at him, it was the first time that she dared to show her true emotions, albeit Daemon could detect that it wasn’t just an act of anger but a sense of fear was laying behind those hues of hers.

He was correct, (y/n) feared for her future, the whispers of Daemon's visits to the street of silk, the adoration for his niece, his continuing ignorance over their wedlock, it all came crashing on her chest making it unable to breathe sometimes.

“I came to break my fast with you as a sign of goodwill, I want us to work on our relation-“

“Us? There is no us, you made sure of that my prince, you have crashed all my efforts and now you dare to speak of us”

“I cannot correct my past mistakes, I can only hope that you will allow me to work on our future, you did not deserve my coldness and for that, I sincerely apologize, I only wish for your good graces and for you to allow me to show you how I truly feel for you and our wedlock”

Silence, her eyes focused on his to scatter for one ounce of a lie, alas she was left with nothing, a sigh left her lips as she sunk to her chair defeated, why did the gods curse her with such a difficult match?

“I do not know if I can love you, I tried to desperately earn your affection for so long, I have grown tired of this”

“I know you have and I do not blame you, I beg you, my sweet (y/n), let me try”

His hand had found hers to hold, the warm flesh against hers grew goosebumps, a small beam of light found its way into her soul and a ghost of a smile appeared as (y/n) glimpsed upon their hands locked together, she gave him a subtle squeeze to see if this was a dream or reality.

“I suppose trying couldn’t hurt”

“Thank you, now you must eat, your mother might be right you have lost some weight”

“My efforts of getting accustomed to your foods have not been working”

“You do not have to, we can bring a cook from your homeland, my lady wife shall eat whatever her heart contents”

“There are some delicacies that I believe you would enjoy”

“I am not very picky with food so I will try anything you put in front of me”

Chatter was something (y/n) could easily do, however, even though Daemons spirits were high, (y/n) would steal glances of caution at him, was this another scheme? Or was he genuinely craving her presence and good graces?

“I was hoping you could come to meet Caraxes later”

“I do not know if that is the best idea”

“Nonsense, Caraxes is a part of me, therefore a part of you by law, soon our children will have their eggs on their cradle, if you are surrounded by dragons you need to get used to their presence”

Requests are open!

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elaratyrell · 7 months

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Daemon Targaryen x Fem! Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon {Lessons In Lovemaking}

*All images found on Pinterest*

Requested By: @thatsgayyouknow

Warnings: Threesome, double penetration, unprotected sex, piv sex, anal, vaginal and anal fingering, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, language, use of kepa, Jace's monster dick, Daemon is technically cheating on Rhaenyra, drinking... I think that's it... this is pure filth *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Request/Synopsis: “Hi I was wondering if you could do something where Daemon is helping show Jace how to please his lover. If you could possibly fill it with has much smut as possible and maybe even do it where the reader takes both of them at the same time.”

A/N: Reader is described as having Valyrian ancestors but this won't affect their appearance as it was hundreds of years ago

*Not fully proof read*

You had been feeling eyes on you all evening.

You were slowly growing used to the feeling of being watched during banquets like this, what with being married to Prince Jacaerys for several moons now. Being the Princess of Dragonstone came with its share of benefits and disadvantages, it seemed.

But this time it felt different.

Amongst the stares of the various high lords and nobles of the kingdom trying to get a look at their new princess, there was one that felt like it was burning straight through you. It was a hungry, intense gaze.

One with lustful intentions.

And it wasn’t coming from your husband.

Your gaze travelled to where that piercing look was coming from, your eyes locking with a pair of lilac ones.

Your father in law, Daemon Targaryen, had his eyes locked on you ever since you'd sat down.

Occasionally, his gaze flickered over to his wife, Rhaenyra, murmuring an agreement to whatever she was saying or pressing a kiss to her palm, but otherwise it was entirely focused on you.

You were dressed in a deep red gown with black lace detailing. Half of your hair was twisted into a braid crown and pinned back, a tiara of gold and rubies adorning your head.

You were every bit a Targaryen princess.

The match with Jacaerys arose due to your family, along with having Valyrian ancestry, bending the knee for Rhaenyra and supporting her as heir after the death of her father. Fortunately, her younger half brother Aegon had declined to oppose her, and she was crowned. While your marriage to Jacaerys was indeed an arranged affair, you had managed to find love with the young prince, and he with you.

You were the very image of young love that had only bloomed since your nuptials.

There was only one slight crack in your relationship.

Intimacy.

You and Jacaerys were both young and inexperienced on your wedding night. You were thankful that he declined the bedding ceremony, the both of you basking in the warm glow of your private chambers all night.

But since then, moments such as that had been sparse between the two of you, and while Jace had been an attentive and loving husband, you found yourself yearning for more intimacy between the two of you. Any attempts at initiating such things had resulted in Jace telling you that it was late and you were both too tired, or that he didn't want to hurt you, bringing up memories of your discomfort on your wedding night.

It wasn't your fault he was incredibly well endowed.

You were sure that you could both navigate yourselves through the act of lovemaking without bringing you pain.

You just needed to explore that aspect of your relationship more.

And you had decided that tonight would be that night.

Perhaps it was because of the way you had been alone with your thoughts for most of the evening, perverse desires swimming in your mind, or the fact that Jace's touch, whether it was placing his hand over yours, or on your thigh in an innocent manner, a source of comfort...

Or perhaps it was the way Daemon's stare had made your thighs rub together and your skin flush with heat.

No matter the reason, your lips found Jace's the moment he closed your chamber doors behind him, and while initially taken aback by your rather bold action, he eagerly kissed back, his hands travelling to rest on your back while yours tangled in his hair. You smirked against his lips as you felt the lace of your dress loosen.

Once your dress was undone, pooling around your feet, you attempted to tug off Jace's clothes, but he lightly grabbed your wrists, his forehead resting against yours, your chests heaving and lips swollen.

"I... can't..."

"Why not?" You whispered, eyes locking with his. "Jace... I need you. I want you. I want to feel you. Feel loved by you."

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"You won't."

"How do you know that?"

"There are things that can be done to ensure that the act is not painful, but pleasurable. I have read about it-"

"Y/N!"

"Jace, you left me with no other choice," You suddenly snapped, chest heaving. "We have not been intimate since our wedding."

"I know... and believe me, my love, I have yearned to be close with you as well," Jace sighed, taking your hands in his. "But you know that we are not exactly well educated in the act of love making. Look at who we were surrounded with to teach us. Me, with my alcoholic uncle who viewed women as objects and you, with two married sisters who refused to speak on the subject-"

"It seems you could use some guidance in the matter."

You and Jace both turned to see Daemon leaning in the open doorway, arms folded and a slight smirk on his face. Jace stepped between his stepfather than you, an arm protectively outstretched to protect your dignity.

"You could have granted us the liberty of knocking to prepare us for your arrival," Jace spoke, his voice surprisingly stern, almost authoritative, as he addressed his stepfather. Usually his tone would be more respectful, but when you were involved, he didn't care who he was addressing.

"I was about to, but I found your conversation to be far too interesting," Daemon replied, taking a step forward.

"That's close enough," Jace said, his arm pushing you further behind him. Daemon tilted his head, taking another step towards his stepson.

"I merely wish to offer my... expertise, on your issue."

"We do not require such guidance from you."

Daemon smirked. "This doesn't just concern you, Jacaerys. What about you, byka mēre?" [little one]

The way those Valyrian words dripped from his tongue made a shudder run down your spine, your thighs squeezing together.

"She does not need you or your silver tongued words-" Jace began, but he was silence by Daemon raising a hand.

"I was not addressing you, Jacaerys," He said dismissively, curling a finger towards you to beckon you closer.

Jace's grip on your waist loosened as you pulled away from him, hesitantly stepping towards Daemon.

"There you are, byka mēre," His smirk was like a serpent's as he spoke in that honeyed tone. Gentle, but with an edge. Something lingered behind it, and it just took one look into his eyes, the way his pupils darkened when focused on her, to know why. "Tell me, what do you wish to know?"

"I..." You tried to speak, but your mouth was completely dry. You could practically feel yourself shrink in front of Daemon's imposing stare. His presence filled the room, and you couldn't help but find yourself in awe of him.

"Do not tell me you are suddenly feeling shy, little dove," Daemon murmured, reaching out to run his thumb over your lower lip. "You can tell me."

"I... well... I wish to know how to be... how to feel..."

"How to feel true pleasure?" He asked, eyes glittering like amethysts. She nodded, and he turned to address his stepson.

"Have you not been satisfying your beautiful bride, Jacaerys?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That is none of your concern."

"But your wife wishes it to be. Do you want me to help you, byka jorrāelagon?" [little love]

"Daemon-"

"I do," Your voice was nothing more than a hushed murmur, but both Daemon and Jace heard you, the latter shooting you a look of slight hurt.

"Do you hear that Jacaerys? She wants me to guide her."

"You will not touch her," Jace glared, fists clenched.

"That is not your choice to make," Daemon replied with a smirk. "Do you want me to touch you, little one?" He asked, earning a nod from you in response.

"I will not have this-"

"Do you wish for your wife to be happy, Jacaerys?" Daemon interrupted his stepson, raising an eyebrow.

"Well... well yes..."

"You want her to feel satisfied? To feel pleasure?"

"Of course-"

"And giving her such pleasure would make her happy, yes?"

Jace breathed out a sigh, his gaze fixed on the ground and his jaw clenched. "...Yes..." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Then surely that means that whatever your wife wishes... you should grant her? Or in this instance... allow me to grant her?"

Jace's gaze snapped up to meet Daemon's. "Do you not have any loyalty to my mother? To your wife?"

"Of course I do, Jacaerys," Daemon replied smoothly. "But your pretty little wife here wishes for the guidance I have offered. Do not fret," His lip curled into a smile. "I will make sure it is not a regular occurrence."

Jace looked at you, meeting your gaze as you silently pleaded with him.

"Even if it goes against your wishes," Daemon added. "I'm sure it will only be a matter of time before your wife seeks me out. So, we can do this tonight... or whenever she finds me in private-"

"Fine!" Jace exclaimed, letting out a deep breath. "Very well."

You rushed over to him, cupping his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. "Thank you, my love. Do not fret, I will make this up to you." You whispered, pressing another kiss, this time to his cheek, as he took your hands in his.

"If this is what you truly want, I will not stand in your way of happiness," He murmured, laying a kiss to the back of your hand.

"I love you."

"And I you, dearest." He mustered you a small smile, kissing your other hand before letting you go. You stepped back, giving him one last smile before turning to Daemon, who outstretched a hand towards you.

"Shall we, byka mēre?"

You nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you over to the bed.

"If you feel overwhelmed, little one, you need only tell me. I will stop. I give you my word of that."

"I assure you, your grace, I will not require that."

"You need not call me that, byka jorrāelagon, " Daemon murmured, looking down at you. "You may call me kepa. Understood?"

"Yes," You replied. "Kepa." You quickly added.

"Jacaerys, you may either step outside or take a seat. I do not require you at this moment" Daemon said, glancing over to his nephew. "Actually, I think that you had better watch. You will need to stay to learn how a lady can be pleasured."

Jace slumped down in a chair by the fireplace, glaring at his stepfather's rather smug expression, his jaw clenched, no doubt to hold back any words he may regret. He did not wish to upset you, or deny you your wish, and Daemon had a larger influence, over both the kingdom and Rhaenyra that he could use to his advantage should Jacaerys change his mind.

He didn't want to push you away.

So he would bite his tongue, and hold himself back for tonight.

"Right now, little dove," Daemon's attention was now fully focused on you. "First, let's remove these undergarments. Let me see you."

His touch lit your skin on fire as his hands slid down your arms to settle on your waist before moving to your back. You let out a small gasp at the ripping sound as he tore the garment from you body, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you completely bare before him.

His lilac gaze darkened as he circled around you, like a predator around its prey.

Because that is what you were.

His prey for tonight.

And he was going to devour you.

"My, my, what a stunning little creature you are. I can see why my stepson is so enamoured with you..." He murmured, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, sending an involuntary shiver at his touch. "Do not worry, little dove," He added, coming to stand in front of you, his hands moving to cup your face. "Kepa will take good care of you. Lay down on the bed for me, little one."

Complying with his orders, you settled yourself on the bed behind you, the silken sheets smooth against your bare skin.

"Sȳz riña,"[good girl] He praised, ridding himself of his tunic and undershirt to expose his toned torso to you. He was healthy, strong, with a warrior's body.

"You enjoy what you see, jorrāelagon mēre?"[dear one] He smirked slightly at your lustful gaze. Hesitantly, you nodded, making the smirk widen. "You need not shy away from me, dārilaros, my purpose tonight is to help you, to fulfil your wishes, understood?" [princess]

"Yes, kepa," You murmured, gazing up at him with those eyes of yours, wide like a does as he leaned forward to capture you lips in a hungry kiss, one that was full of desire and unbridled lust, one that consumed you. It did not contain the passion and tenderness of Jace's, but sent a jolt of excitement through you nonetheless.

Daemon nipped at your lower lip, a whimper slipping through as you parted your lips to allow his tongue to enter your mouth. He gently pushed you down so you were laying on your back, one hand bracing himself above you while the other moved to your breast, rolling a hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He made sure to settle himself on one side of you so Jacaerys could get a full view of the way your body reacted to his touch, so he could see the way you arched into Daemon as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses in his wake, his hand still fondling your breast.

You tilted your head back against the pillows as his teeth grazed the sweet spot at the base of your throat, your breath hitching slightly. Daemon smirked against your neck, his lips latching onto the spot and sucking into the skin. His hand left your breast, tracing along the curve of your waist, your hips, your stomach, before settling to part your legs. Dipping between them, he glided a finger between your folds, gathering your arousal on his forefinger.

"So wet with desire for me already, byka mēre," He murmured, lifting his head from your neck where the skin had began to bloom with the irritation from his teeth. He lifted the finger to his lips, tasting you. "Heavenly. However did you restrain yourself Jacaerys? If I had your privilege I would feast on you every night, dārilaros."

"H-he said... he said he didn't want to hurt me..." You breathed out, chest heaving already from the attention Daemon had given you.

"That is because he doesn't know how to prepare you, dove," Daemon replied. "But do not worry, kepa will help you."

It didn't hurt when he inserted his first finger inside of you, or even the second, stretching your walls as his thumb lazily circled your clit.

"Be patient, byka mēre," He tutted as you desperately bucked your hips against his fingers, desperate for more friction. "We don't want this to be over quickly, do we? I have you all night, and I tend to take advantage of that."

The way he'd murmur those words only grew your desire for more. You wanted him inside of you, to feel him stretch you out and join you as one. But you also understood he was there to guide and teach you the ways of pleasure.

And you knew he was going to take his sweet time.

Your hands braced on his shoulders, nails digging crescent marks into his skin as he pushed a third finger inside.

"Does it hurt?"

"A... a little..." You whispered. "But please don't stop, kepa. Please... keep going."

"As you wish, dārilaros," He smirked, pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still circling your sensitive bud.

It wasn't long until you came undone for the first time that night. The way Daemon's fingers curled against you and the way he'd press against your clit soon sending you over the edge.

Daemon lifted his fingers to your lips. "Open, little one," He husked, lilac eyes blown with lust as you sucked his fingers clean.

"Sȳz riña." [good girl]

His replaced his fingers with his lips, humming to himself as he tasted you on your lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against his.

"Wait did I say about patience?" He whispered against your ear, catching the lobe between his teeth. "It isn't me I'm preparing that sweet little cunt for, jorrāelagon mēre..." [dear one]

His whisper sent a shudder straight through you, head tilting to the side to focus on where Jace was sat by the fireplace, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, those usually warming brown eyes now black, chest heaving with heavy breaths as his bulge strained beneath his breeches.

You knew Jace was struggling to maintain his composure, that it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

You kept your gaze locked on him as Daemon kissed your neck, tongue gliding over the bruise he'd left earlier before focusing his attention on your breast, teeth catching your nipple and making your head tilt back in pleasure. Breathy moans filled the room as he paid the same attention to your other breast before leaving a line of kisses down your stomach, your hips, before his head settled between your legs, draping them over his shoulders.

He feasted on you like a man starved, groaning at your sweet taste while your fingers tangled in his silver tresses. Every time his tongue would press against your clit, or flick against your walls made you roll your hips against him, fingers tugging at his hair that only made him growl against your, the vibrations only tightening the coil twisting in the pit of your stomach.

Your thighs squeezing around his head only made him bury his tongue deeper inside of you, rolling onto his back so you were now straddling his head. His hands planted themselves on your waist, guiding your hips to roll down against him, nose brushing against your clit.

Daemon had a reputation for having a skilled silver tongue, and he certainly put it to good use, bringing you to the brink once again, eagerly lapping at your juices like it was the finest feast in the seven kingdoms.

You let out deep gasps of breaths as you moved yourself from Daemon, who sat up beside you, lips glistening with your arousal.

"I think you might be ready, don't you?" He asked, hooking his finger beneath your chin so your eyes locked with his. You nodded, Daemon smirking and brushing your hair from your eyes. "Alright, little one. Jacaerys." He called over to his stepson the way an owner would to a dog, but Jacaerys rose to his feet all the same, his brisk strides bringing himself to your side in an instant, his hand protectively resting on shoulder as he glared at his uncle.

"It seems she's ready for you." Daemon said, pouring himself a goblet of Dornish wine. "Be gentle, let her set the pace. Perhaps you should be on top, byka mēre," He suggested, that glint in his eyes making Jace narrow his in suspicion. "Don't tell me you are going to back away now, Jacaerys," Daemon continued. "It will upset your dear wife so."

"Of course I haven't," Jace replied, his voice stern and clear, but when he looked at you, his glare directed at his stepfather softened. "If she still wants this." He added, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as you insisted your stance had not changed. "As you wish, my love," He murmured, standing from the bed to rid himself of his clothing.

Jacaerys leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you into his arms so he could manoeuvre you both, him laying on his back and you straddling his waist, his hardened cock pressing against you. His hands found your waist as you positioned yourself above him, slowly lowering yourself onto him, your head tilted back and mouth slightly agape at the heavenly feeling of him stretching your walls.

"Does it feel alright?" Jace whispered.

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him again. "I'm fine," You murmured against his lips.

The sound of Daemon's empty goblet being placed back down on the table echoed around the room, making you pull away from Jace, looking behind you to see Daemon removing the rest of his clothes.

"Hold on, you said-"

"I said she was ready for you, I never said that I was finished with her yet," Daemon interrupted his stepson's protests, walked behind you to whisper in your ear.

"Do you think you can take me as well, dārilaros," He whispered, warm breath fanning against the shell of you ear. He let out a small hum of approval at your nod of response, lips pressing against your shoulder as he leaned you forward slightly.

"Relax for me, byka mēre," He cooed in your ear, his finger teasing the entrance to your puckered hole. "Kepa will not hurt you unless you wish for him to."

You clenched around his finger as he slowly pushed it into you, gently moving it in and out. Beneath you, you felt Jace's cock twitch inside of you, as though pleading with you to move. His gaze was focused on you as your expression twisted into one of pleasure, your hands braced against his chest as Daemon continued working on preparing you for him.

When he deemed you were ready, he slowly entered you, hand holding your hip to keep you in place as he sheathed himself inside of you.

The feeling of being filled up by the two of them was almost euphoric, Daemon stretching you out perfectly despite not being as well endowed as Jacaerys (although still impressive).

"Are you ready, dōna mēre?"[sweet one] Daemon asked, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

"Yes... please kepa... please let me move..." You whispered.

"Ssh, little one," He hushed you. "It's alright. You can move when I tell you, understood? When I pull out of you, that's when you can move, yes?"

You nodded. "Yes, I understand, kepa."

"Sȳz riña," Daemon whispered, lips brushing against your temple as he slowly drew out of you, his grip on your hip loosening to allow you to move up and down along Jace's length. When you lifted yourself off of him, Daemon entered you once again, establishing a slow but steady rhythm.

You let out a moan as Jace pressed a thumb against your swollen pearl, the sensitive bud sending another jolt of pleasure through you as Daemon picked up the pace, guiding your hips faster. Jace sat up to capture your lips with his, more passionate than the last.

The kiss broke as Daemon grabbed your hair, tugging your head back to replace Jace's lips with his, exposing your throat for Jace to lay his own claim on you.

After your two previous orgasms, you knew you wouldn't last longer, and when Jace applied more pressure to your clit and Daemon snapped his hips against your ass, you were tipped over the edge, your third orgasm of the evening coming over you like a tidal wave.

Daemon's hips stuttered against you, and stood still for a moment as he reached his release, laying a kiss to the top of your head as he slowly pulled out of you, using his finger to push any of his load back into your hole.

"Finish inside of her Jacaerys," He said, stepping back. "I'm sure she'd look quite heavenly with her stomach swollen with your heir."

You had been waiting all evening for Jace to snap, to take control, and Daemon's comment must have triggered something within him, as the next thing you knew, you're husband had you pinned down beneath him as he rutted into you like a depraved animal, his mouth on yours swallowing the moans and cries that ripped through you at the relentless pace he'd set.

"Do you want that?" He all but growled against her lips. "To be swollen with my heir? My babe?"

"Please Jace..." You breathed. "Ñuha dārilaros, ñuha zaldrīzes, fill me with your seed so that I may grant you an heir." [my prince, my dragon]

And with that, Jace spilled himself inside of you, and like Daemon, he made sure none of his release went to waste, pushing it back inside of you.

"It seems my work here is done," Daemon smirked, redressing himself. "Well done, Jacaerys, I hope you grant your wife her wishes more often now." He walked over to where you were sprawled out on the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat. He crouched down and leaned forward, his lips hovering over your ear as he whispered so only you could hear.

"If you require me again, ñuha dārilaros, you need only ask," You could practically hear the smirk as he purred into your ear. "I'm sure nobody would bat an eye if your babe was born with silver hair. Jacaerys does carry the blood of the dragon in his veins." [my princess]

And with a gentle kiss to your forehead, he rose to his feet, and left, closing the door behind him and leaving you and Jacaerys to catch your breaths, and realise what in seven hells had just happened.

If you wanted to be added to the general HOTD taglist or taglists for specific character/s, just let me know

Masterlist

#Daemon Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen imagine #Jacaerys Velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon imagine #House of the dragon #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon imagine #House of the dragon smut #Daemon Targaryen x reader x Jacaerys Velaryon

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ophelieverse · 26 days

Note

I have an idea,Lia angel🪽can you please write Daemon x Hightower!reader where she is Otto youngest daughter and she is religious like Alicent and her father betrothed her to Daemon?Maybe with a little bit of 😏😏Thank you my angel🤍🤍

⊱ •There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

-Summary:In order to gain full power,Otto Hightower betrothed both of his daughters in the House of the Dragon.

-Warnings:Age gap,a little bit of smutty time,religious topics.

-Thank you for requesting and let me know what you think🫶🏻🩷

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The wind that caressed her bare back no longer carried with it that scent of saltiness that had weighed down her nostrils and kneaded her mouth,while sobs,wheans and bells had shaken her violently in following the ship and the wake of foam that moved away from the beach of Dragonstone and disappeared beyond the horizon.

It had become a pleasant breeze with floral and fruity hints,which rippled her skin filling her with chills,although Lady Y/n Hightower,youngest daughter of Otto Hightower the Hand of the King,was not cold.

She could not feel cold under the scorching sun of the island on which she had been abandoned by her family.Her father who gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and her older sister who cried silently with her,to be alone with her betrothed,the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, not when it was her own body that radiated heat,turning it on from the inside.

Maybe earlier,those days were her father gave her the information of his new plan.Before,perhaps,she had perceived the icy breath of what being married to a man like her future husband would mean,but now... Now those endless tears that had blinded her eyes and moistened her beautiful face had also dried.

«Father,Smith,Warrior,Mother,Maiden,Crone,Stranger.»Y/n whispers those names in her mind with her eyes closed,as if praying could purify her of what is happening to her body.

By the way Daemon hands creep under her nightgown and run through her skin,lingering on places she never dared to explore even on her own.Her hands instead she’ll the rosary of the Seven,to prevent herself from pushing him away or to bring him even closer.

Her whole body felt on fire,her immaculate skin was covered in goosebumps as the night sky engulfed her figure.Daemon had been waiting for her body,for her mind,soul and heart to be completely his.Maybe he suggested to Larys Strong to suggest to that cunt of her father to have her hand to him out of spite,maybe he did because Y/n had always been kind and gentle towards him unlike her father.

What he was certain of was that in that moment she looked like a holy figure,with her hair all sandy,her lips swollen,the skin of her jaw still covered in spit and wine.She looked like one of those gods that she loved tho pray and only now,taking in every inch of her body,he understood why people were religious.Why they needed something to turn to,someone to get on their knees for and chant their names.

Daemon wasn’t a religious person,but he liked to think that the gods had made Y/n just for him.

It was easy in the beginning,when it all started just to see Otto Hightower rage as the prince gave his younger daughter all those attentions.But after a short time,Daemon started to realize that there was something more that was pushing him to always look at her,to caress the back of her neck,to toy with her hair.

It was only when she told him that she prayed for him every night before going to sleep,that everything changed.No one has aver prayed for Daemon,maybe his brother had prayed him to change,but he never went down to his knees before his bed and asked to the gods to always protect him.

From that day he started to pay her more attention,to see the shy way she carried herself,always looking down at her feet,never saying anything without being asked.Always at her father side.She was wasted like this,such a young and beautiful girl that could bring the whole world to its knees to worship and cherish her just like the goddess she was.

When Daemon had caught the whispers of her father wanting to send her back to Old Town to become a Septa,he had to intervene.

He knew Y/n wouldn’t never gave herself to someone like him willingly,not without a promise.And so it was done,in less than a month they would’ve been husband and wife and he could have all the time to see her shine for who she really was,without the dark cloud of her father shadow on her.

Daemon wanted her to want him as he wanted her.Desperately.He wanted to make her shiver from his touch,he wanted to hear her voice breathless and shaky.Oh he wanted to hear her say his name like a prayer,like he was her new god.Full of devotion.

«You should stop crying,Y/n,am I hurting you?»Daemon murmured above her chest,his eyes not leaving the precious and untouched skin of her breast.

«T-that's not what I want.»she lied,her voice was weak and she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Daemon takes her nipples in his mouth,one at a time and she can’t stop them from becoming erect and turgid.Her mother made her believe that no one could suck her breasts except her children,that sex was only meant for child-bearing but right now Y/n feels anything but a mother and a pure virgin.She felt dirty,she felt like a whore,she felt good for the first time in her life.

«You are a liar.»her betrothed taunted her,his rosy lips were soft,his tongue warm and wet made her thighs clench.

«Father,Smith,Warrior.»she whispered again,one of her hands was now grasping at Daemon long silver hair as he groaned.

Y/n dwells on those figures with a hint of fear,aware that none of them will come to save her now.Not her father who sold her to the Rogue Prince in marriage.Not the warrior,her sworn protector,that was waiting at the castle for Daemon to be done with her before escorting her to her maidens.In the absence of the smith,her father trusted a demon,Larys Strong,and his advices to strength Alicent oldest son claim to the throne by forging their union just to have Daemon on their side against Rhaenyra when war will come.

«You want this.You want me.»Daemon said looking up at her with lustfull eyes,releasing her nipples.

Y/n face was burning red,her lips were quivering with soft prayers«You should s-stop.»she pleaded.

He was still holding her,his fingers felt like pure fire on her ribs.He kissed his way down from under her breast,savoring the sweet perfume of strawberries and the clean and sinful taste of her immaculate skin.

«Stop where?Here?»he asked,he bit and sucked right under her ribcage making her gasp.

His hands were hiking up the gown of her white nightgown,the smooth and silky texture of her bare legs made his head spin.

«Daemon.»she called for him breathlessly.

«What do you want?Tell me,my beautiful princess.»he whispered.

She tries to stay motionless like a statue,but her body trembles,quivers,while he puts a finger in her and then a second, making her find her more wet than she would have liked.

Her language pronounces aloud the names of the Seven,to prevent herself from yelling at him to stop or to keep going forever.

«You want all this, you want me.»he reminds her,taking in all of her beauty.

«How could I?You're a horrible man.»

She spreads her legs wide and feels him rubbing the tip of his manhood erected against her opening without daring to enter yet,and she hates herself for how reflexively she pushes her pelvis against him,for how she widens her legs even more.

«Maybe you're horrible too.»

Y/n head was spinning and it was difficult to remember how that change had happened,how she had started crying at the betrayal of her family when shortly before she had found herself aching for him,for the man above her as the most unfortunate of disasters;nor how she had come to grasp with her lips a pasty and strong flavor, capable of awakening every sense,capable of awakening in her new desires and instilling new life in her.

When Daemon had walked her to a secret area on the beach of Dragonstone and eased her thirst with the most intense,tasteful wine of the known world she had found herself on her knees for him.Till a week before she used to lift her gowns and get down only to pray her gods,now she was doing for the man that her father had raised her to despise and she loved it more than the gods her mother had taught her to worship.

Then she had found herself laying on the cold and wet sand,Daemon on her like a beast on the pray.

Y/n followed with her tongue the route of a thick drop and found a small bump in her mouth.She enclosed it inside and sucked so as not to disperse any of the spicy notes of that purple liquid.The fingers that had played with his long moon hair tightened their grip in a tacit warning and she chased another trail finding herself flattening her tongue on solid muscles,provoking them with the tip to make them contract and relax to their liking.She sucked in other stylls and bit the skin she found underneath to memorize its texture and remember how even the salty of the sweat could turn into sugar.

She knew that the gift,which was dripping from that chest and which had been offered to her so generously, was not to be wasted and she would savor it greedily.

«Good princess.»Daemon had praised her,his eyes,of the same color of the wine,capturing her every movement.

Y/n blinked and the blurred view allowed her to admire the work of a skilled sculptor.The advent of the chest she was worshipping,stained with other droplets waiting for her passage,caused a wave of desire in her belly.Those paths she was entering would soon lead her to the place where she would finally find peace and a new pang of anticipation caught her unprepared.

She strove to bring back to mind how she ended up like this,on her knees for him.A man with the blood of the dragon in his veins,a man who was undoubtedly a deity:he had dazzled her with an estatic vision of immortal creatures singing and dancing,so colorful and lively that he enchanted and chained her to them.And that drink she had tasted first from his cup,then from his hands and, finally,from the rest of his limbs.

Y/n kneeling between the sea and the rocks, looked up at him eyes and,all of a sudden,she didn't care about anything anymore.Her pupils burned,foamed like the liquid she was collecting,and rested her soul.

Then she had found herself underneath him and somehow,she also founded the strength to pray for forgiveness.For the person she was about to become,for the person she was letting him create.

Maybe she was horrible too.

«I want to be.»she whimpered against his mouth«I want to be just like you.»she pleaded,scratching down his back,the rosary long forgotten on the cold sand.

Mother,Maiden,Crone.

Y/n turns to those names but without really praying to them:she thinks of the Mother,the one that she had lost,the one that she had watched her sister turn into and who is the only definition their father had imposed on both of them,of the Maiden who she is no longer,of the Crone who she does not want to be yet.

And never,never,never like right now she was just Y/n,a woman,as she feels the member of Daemon finally slip into her to its entire length.The intrusion snatches a cry of surprise from her,but even though it’s the first time she feels no pain and she is amazed.

Her lips opens immediately when Daemon one’s looks for hers,his tongue caressing hers slowly as his arms brings her impossible closer to him,almost as he wanted to be one with her.

«Tell me that you are mine,Y/n.Not your father,but mine.»Daemon sounded desperate,moving in and out of her at a languid pace to savor more of the gentle creature he was corrupting.

«I’m yours.»she immediately answered him with a little moan«And you are mine?»she still had that white innocence in her that made him fall in love with her.

«Soon we will be one under the blessing of the Seven.You are mine and i’m yours.»he promised her and she believes him,he’s her new god,one that was created only for her to worship just like he worship her.

Daemon enters and leaves her at an increasingly rapid pace,sinking more forcefully at the end of that provocation;it should be a punishment, perhaps,it is instead for Y/n is a relief.It’s not a torture,not when he fills her,but the emptiness he leaves when all of this will end.She hates how her body does not consider that as a shameful act,making love before being married on the beach,a humiliation,as,in spite of everything,even her mind recognizes that disgract on his virtue infinitely more pleasant than the honest marital duty that her sister had told her about.

Stranger.Stranger.Stranger.

There is no other god left,as she opens her eyes and feels lost in her own release that hits her like the waves that crush on the shore.Daemon is not far behind her,his lilac eyes shining in hers as he empties himself in her.

Y/n surrenders to him,to the only true Stranger she knows,and thinks that after all she could also die in that moment,because she is dying less now than she died for all her life.Because being with Daemon couldn’t be worse than being with her father,because the unprecedented heat that explodes inside her suddenly can be nothing more than death itself.

She opens her lips and Daemon is the only name she outrageously prays as she opens her hands to hold him now to herself,to draw him closer instead of pushing him back,while he sinks for one last time.

The rosary breaks and the beads fall to the sand,like the gods it represent.

«I’m sorry.»he says.

«Everything is alright.»she says back.

Daemon lays on her and begins to caress her with an unexpected and inconsistent sweetness,like that remorse to which she gives voice,but which she understands after all.He would not have been able to ask for all this without offering her father to marry his daughter,because,in any case,if he had only asked for a fun night together she would have said no.

But now of her rabid cruelty nothing remains but a painful fragility;he is a god who falls too,a god who bows to her.It's ironic how she almost feels obliged to console him,to thank him for taking her away from her father hands.

«Thank you,my prince.»Y/n whispered.

Deamon closed his eyes,laying on her bare chest and enjoying the warmth of her skin«You're the only beautiful thing I will ever have,Y/n.I will make you a happy wife.»and he sounded sincere,she believed him.

Father,Smith,Warrior,Mother,Maiden,Crone,Stranger.

She no longer worships the gods now,because they are cruel,those who brand such a sweet pleasure as a sin.

She doesn't think about the gods anymore,Y/n, because now she knows what it means to be human.

There is no longer any god,not after the Hour of the owl,when Daemon gives unconditional whispers,love and mercy.Because he no longer needs blackmail as a pretext and Y/n no longer has religious images to hide behind.It was only them now,to believe in and to love.

«I love you.»he says

«I love you too.»she says back.

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dreamlandcreations · 8 months

Text

Imagine Daemon being infinitely amused when you make a scandalous comment to Alicent

Imagine Daemon being infinitely amused when you make a scandalous comment to Alicent who was being a cunt during the celebratory dinner that the King ordered for his family in the event of the birth of your sister's third Strong son.

The Queen's prayer was another not-so-sly remark to Rhaenyra but this comment involved you too so your response was deliberately extra shameless.

"May the Mother bless both princesses with many true heirs," she murmured.

Pretending to be in the belief that she finished, you rise from your seat a little, making an intentionally loud noise with the sliding chair and grab the wine from the opposite side of the table, from right in front of her.

Alicent looks at you with dread as you pour yourself a drink and reply to her taunting. "Yes, well, don't you worry about that, dear. Daemon and I are fucking at every chance so it is bound to happen sooner rather than later."

Your husband chuckles openly while Rhaenyra looks down to hide her smile. The Hightowers are looking at you with a mortified expression, even as Daemon pulls you down back to your seat and leans in to kiss you while he is still unable to hold back his laughter.

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sollsmith · 26 days

Text

I'm All Yours

Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

Words: 2.1K

Warnings: SMUT, sex work, fingering, oral (fem receiving), degradation, slight breeding kink, breast slapping, slightly rough sex

Summary: Daemon finds out you have been entertaining other men at the brothel in his absence.

The gold and silver coins made a delightful clink as they hit the bottom of the glass jar. Enough to house and feed yourself for the week, and possibly treat yourself to one new silk. Dreaming about that aqua iridescent silk that hung in the back of the drapery, you began to clear your room for the night, not noticing the dark figure looming in the doorway.

“Thought you could replace me?” Daemon’s voice is low, a scolding expression on his face as you nearly jump out of your skin, almost knocking over the vase of flowers resting on the table you were clearing.

“My Prince!” You try to suppress the smile that inches its way onto your face, but it is not possible. Daemon had quickly laid claim to you all those years ago in Mothers, to the point you were assumed to be reserved for the Prince if he chose to offer his patronage to the brothel at any point. Other men would not approach or ask for your price. You belonged to Daemon Targaryen. Everyone knew it.

Daemon hums in response as he stalks down the few steps into the room and heads in your direction. It had been three years since you had last seen him. A cold night on Dragonstone, when he had put twenty gold dragons in your hand, told you to pack your things and to return to the capital. He would not take you with him to war.

All the thoughts of your last interactions are whipped from your head as Daemon presses up against the wall, evident arousal poking your inner thigh. He smells of wine, and another woman. The quick words that were on the tip of your tongue, die as his hand finds your throat, applying just enough pressure to intervene with your breathing.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He says, pressing a little harder on your neck, looking you directly in the eye, as his hand moves under your skirt and edges it way to your heart. “Have you been replacing me? Hm?”

You nod as well as you can with a hand around your throat. It was true, while the twenty dragons had afforded you to live comfortably for two years without the need to sell your body, but the last year proved difficult and you had made your way back onto the street of silk, and it had been a profitable one. With the Rogue Prince gone at war, men happily paid handfuls of silver and gold for your company.

“Need to give you a reminder on who this cunt belongs to?” Daemon’s large hand finds your cunt, letting two fingers enter your willing hole, while pushing the ball of his palm into your throbbing clit. A small growl leaves his throat as his fingers slip into you, still wet from the hedge knight that had spent the last hour buried in you. Looking up at him, a gentle moan leaving your lips, you nod eagerly.

“How many? Hm? How many men have you let run my perfect cunt?” Daemon taunts, wanting to hear you humiliate yourself for him. He loosens his hand that is gripped around your neck slightly, allowing himself room to start leaving wet kisses just below your ear.

“I- I’m not, not sure.” You answer honestly. It’s not like you keep track, you work until you have enough coins, whether it be one man or six. Daemon tuts are your answer, digging his thick fingers in as deep as he can, instantly finding that spongy sweet spot that no other man can seem to reach, as his palm works your clit at the same time. You begin to clench around him instantly, peak coming in quickly. Daemon, knowing exactly where you are heading, quickly removed his fingers and palm, leaving you with nothing. A small whine leaves your mouth at the loss of contact, your mind focusing on keeping your shaking legs up right.

Daemon’s hand leaves your throat, hand untying the thin lace gown you have, leaving it to pool onto the ground beneath you. His arms quickly hoist you up, carrying you back to the bed, tossing you down as gently as he could muster in the moment. He quickly discards his white tunic and breeches, his naked body leaning over yours, lips attaching to your neck, and hands pawing at your stiff nipples. Your legs wrap about his waist, using your feet to pull him closer to you.

Daemon’s kisses begin to move down your body, lips enveloping your collar bones, nipples, ribs and stomach. He leaves no part of you untasted as he makes his way down, face finally level with you warm and wet heat.

“Such a pretty cunny, just as pretty as the first time you gave her to me,” He hums as his head moves forward, licking a bold stripe to your dripping core, lips locking onto your clit and sucking gently. A gasp leaves you at the instant overstimulation. “Did those other dirty men look after her for me?” He raises his head, looking up at you from between your legs with a glint of mischief in his eyes. Wanting to save yourself from the embarrassment of answering you, buck your hips up to meet his mouth, wanting him to continue, but his arms wrap around your thigh and hands push down on your hips keep you away. “Answer my questions, doru-borto riña. Then you will get your reward.”

“No.” You whine out, the tone of your voice making the heat rush your cheeks.

“They didn’t look after her?” Daemon mocks in a cooing voice, a smirk etched on his face, his thumb lightly rubbing circles on your clit. “Did they neglect my poor cunt? Just used her for their own pleasure?”

You nod, mumbling out confirmation, tears welling up in your eyes. You have waited three years for this moment and the teasing is driving you insane. All you care about is getting him inside you as quickly as possible.

“Poor cunny. We’ll have to fix that won’t we?” His question was answered with a small squeak from you, as Daemon's mouths at your swollen lips, his tongue leaving his lips to poke at your hole, sucking on your clit.Tongue and fingers reaching the spongy parts of you that have you screaming for him. Just when you think it can’t get any better, he is humming into your wet folds and looking up at you with those lilac eyes, forcing you to the edge. Your toes curl and drag up his back as a loaded moan leaves your mouth, Daemon’s name slipping from your lips in babbles. Daemon groans into your cunt, electrifying the aftershocks of your toe-curling height.

“Perfect like always,” Daemon presses a final soft kiss to your clit, causing your hips to jerk, hitting his chest as he crawls his way back up your body, caging up under him. He looms over you, a smile inking its way onto his face, lips and chin still glistening with your arousal. “The hedge cunt that was in here before me. What did he have you do?”

You hesitate for a moment, eyes widening as you realise that Daemon had been in the brothel a lot longer than you thought. His lips are going over your eyes, eyes burning into yours as he waits for your answer.

“Answer me, whore.” Daemon speaks, hand roughly coming down on your breast, demanding an answer, lips reattaching to your neck leaving wet kisses.

“He had me ride him, my prince.” You hummed, one of your hands finding its way into his now cropped hair. He huffs, before rolling off you, lying back beside you, head resting on the plush pillows. His hand reach to your hip, tugging you towards him. You scramble over to him, crawling on-top of him, thighs gently straddling his stomach. Your hands resting on his pecs, you look down at Daemon, biting your lip when his hands find the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh before landing a harsh spank across your left cheek, causing you to jut forward grinding your wet folds along his length.

“Well go on then…show me.” He grunts out, you quickly follow his orders, reaching between your legs to grab his thick cock in your hand, teasing the tip along your entrance before sheathing yourself on him, sliding down slowly until he bottoms out inside of you.

He can feel your walls stretching and fluttering around him, trying to accommodate him. You’re always so good and take all of him like he knows you can. You stay like that for a moment, not moving a inch, trying to control your breathe

“I said g-”

“You’re so much bigger” You whimper. Daemon smirks, as his hands move from your ass to your hips keeping you in place as he bucks his hips up, pulling out to then fully shove himself back into again.

“Did you talk back to that last man that you let fuck you? Hm?.” His voice is condescending. You shake your head, and he tilts his brow down between the two of you, indicating for you to get to work. Quickly, you're fighting the slight burn from the stretch of him and lifting yourself up off of his cock and coming down in a steady rhythm. Daemon looks up at you, amused at your slow rhythm as you attempt fuck yourself on him, the look on his face causing you to grind harder, getting his cock to hit within you deeper, hitting your spot you love with each trust.

“There you go. Did his cock make you feel like this?” Daemon questions, as his hands drift from your hips to play with your bouncing tits for a moment, before moving back to your hips for a moment, gripping them tightly to give himself some leverage to snap his hips up to meet your thrusts. Your walls instantly clamp around him, forcing a groan from his throat.

“No? Only my cock can make this little cunt feel this good.” Daemon grunts, thumb reaching between your thighs to rub your clit and his lips finding one of your nipples sucking harshly. Your hands are softly rubbing his toned chest as you moan his name, fingers lingering on the mangled flesh of his left side, your mouth begging for him to keep on going.

“Only you, only you.” You mumble out and he can feel that you’re close, can feel that at any moment you’re going to spasm on his cock and milk him for all that he’s worth. Suddenly Daemon’s flipping you on your back and roughly pushing your legs up over his shoulders so that it’s easy for him to plunge his cock deep inside you.

“You want my seed, whore? Milk my cock and carry my bastard? Is that what you want?” Your nodding as your hands grasp at his back, any words you hand dying on in your throat when he reaches his thick fingers down to rub quick circles on your clit, walls clamping tightly down on him and tears beginning to well in your eyes. “You need to ask for it.”

“Yes! Please, please fill me with your seed, I want it. Want your bastard in me.” You sound so broken and desperate and it causes Daemon’s balls to tighten as they continue to slap against your ass.

“Take it then.” Your body stiffens to it high and the pleasure is so intense black spots begin to cloud your vision as Daemon fucks you through your high, eventually finding his own as he spills inside of you. He continues to thrust softly as he rides out his own high, eventually coming to a slow stop. He stays loomed over you, your legs still hook around his shoulders as the two of you to catch your breath.

You gently unhook your legs, bringing them down between your bodies, Daemon lowering his body onto yours, his head dropping onto your bare, heaving chest as your hand moves to play with his silver strands. His cock stays nestled within you, among the sticky mess that he both created and left.

“No more other men.” He whispers out. It’s gentle, but you know it is an order. You place a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead, continuing to stroke his soft hair.

“I’m all yours.”

Enjoying writing these little one-shots! Any feedback in the form of likes, reblogs, comments or asks is deeply appreciated!

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maidragoste · 2 months

Text

Fatherhood

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

More of Daemon's Wife au

Summary: A glimpse into Daemon's life as a father.

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Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

After watching your husband act like a fool for days you finally lost your patience so tonight when Daemon climbed into bed with you and started kissing your neck you pushed him away.

“What did I do?” He asked, knowing that you were upset by the frown on your face.

"You're ignoring Baelon," you accused him without any doubt of your words.

Since the two of you had came back home from the war, Daemon had barely been to the nursery and when the whole family was at the table he never tried to talk to Baelon. You didn't expect him to instantly become familiar with his role as a father., after all, he hadn't been able to meet their son before, but you never thought that your husband would look for any excuse not to be with your son.

"He doesn't like me so I'm not going to bother him" he responded, wanting to appear unconcerned but you know him well so you know that this actually bothered him.

When you and your husband returned from Stepstones, your son had burst into tears the first time Daemon spoke to him. You noticed the pain in your husband's eyes when Baelon hid his face in your neck, refusing to see him. You didn't blame your son for being afraid since it was the first time he saw his father. You knew Daemon had been excited to finally meet Baelon so you understood that the boy's reaction would have disappointed him but you didn't expect him to decide to distance himself because of that.

"He doesn't like you because he doesn't know you yet," you explain now in a softer tone. "Daemon, I don't know what you expected from your first meeting but he acted like any other child would. He doesn't know you so you have to earn his trust. He's not going to love you just because im tell him you're his father. You have to spend time with him," you advised him as you traced random patterns on his chest, hoping he wouldn't take your words the wrong way.

"I will," he promised before kissing you on the lips. He was satisfied to see that this time you didn't push him away so he continued kissing you again and again.

And Daemon really considered your words because after that night he started spending more time at the nursery. At first, Baelon looked uncertainly at Daemon when he spoke to him but you always encouraged him to respond. In addition, it also helped that your son saw that you were always calm and smiling around Daemon, so little by little the boy began to gain more confidence. Every time you were about to tell him a new story, Baelon asked his father if he knew it too and he listened attentively every time Daemon contributed. When he realized that his father also knew High Valyrian, he began to proudly tell him the words he had learned so far and asked him to also teach him new words, now at the table after the servants brought the food Baelon spent his time asking his father what he liked and what he didn't, interested in knowing more about him. Not only that but Baelon also started inviting him to the walks the two of you take together on the beach. Seeing all this, you were proud of the progress between father and son and it made you happy to see the happiness on Daemon's face every time Baelon asked his opinion or asked him something, not to mention when he held his hand for the first time while the three walked together in the beach.

But still, you couldn't help but notice that the two of them were never alone, you were always there as if they wouldn't dare to be alone.

"Where is he going?" Baelon asked, looking with a pout at his father's back as he walked.

"You Kepa is going to go see his dragon" You smiled as you came up with an idea so that they could spend some time alone "Do you want to go with him?"

You weren't surprised when he let go of your hand and started running after Daemon shouting "Kepa! Kepa!" Your husband soon stopped and turned to see the little copy of him running towards him with a big smile. He felt his heart warm at the sight. When Baelon was a few steps away from him, he approached and picked him up without warning, making the boy squeal with happiness.

"I want to go with you," the boy announced before his father could ask him what was happening.

Your husband looked at you waiting for you to say something but you were already raising your hand saying goodbye to them with a smile. Baelon moved his hand back and forth until you became a distant speck on the beach.

"What's the name of your dragon?" the boy asked, still in his dad's arms as he walked.

"Caraxes" the father responded with a smile even though this was not the first time his son had asked him that.

"It's like Wing?"

Daemon would be lying if he said he wasn't fond of hearing how Baelon called your dragon Wing because according to the Nightwing boy he was too long.

"Caraxes is much grander than the dragon on your muña," the prince responded, feeling his smile grow larger as he imagined your indignation if you would listen to him. A part of him hoped that Baelon would later tell you this just to see your reaction.

"He's giant!" Baelon exclaimed impressed when he saw the red beast. "Will my dragon be like that too?" He asked excitedly.

"Probably but in many years" Daemon replied and poked his nose when he saw him pouting "Do you want to pet him?" Instantly the pout was replaced by a smile.

"Yes!" the boy shouted excitedly and before Baelon went to touch the dragon, Daemon took his son's small hand before placing it and his carefully on the dragon's face. He did not believe that Caraxes would do anything to him but he preferred not to risk it, it was known that dragons did not usually react well when someone who was not their rider approached them with too much confidence and the last thing he wanted was for his son to end up hurt so he was for a while talking to his dragon while they both caressed it.

Daemon could remember the proudest moments in his life: when he claimed Caraxes, when his father gave him Dark Sister, when he called you his wife for the first time when you told him you were pregnant and now it added up to see his son bond with his dragon.

They were there for a while. Daemon listened with amusement to Baelon's ramblings about how giant Caraxes was and that he surely had to eat a lot to achieve that size, all while never stopping petting the dragon. Until started to get dark then they headed back to the castle.

"I like Wing more" the boy confessed once the figure of the dragon became a distant speck.

"Tomorrow you will come to fly with me and you will see that Caraxes flies faster," the prince said instantly. He had to change Baelon's mind before he said that again but in front of you. He could already imagine your cocky smile and how you would never let him forget it.

"Let's fly now!" the boy squealed excitedly.

"We can't now, your daughter must be waiting for us for dinner" the father explained, and seeing that Baelon seemed about to complain he added "Would you like her to have dinner alone? I'm sure that would make her sad"

"No, let's go with muña!"

During dinner, Baelon spent his time talking non-stop about Caraxes and how tomorrow he would fly with his Kepa. You listened to everything with a smile and only interrupted your son's ramblings to remind him to eat before the food got cold.

In the middle of Baelon's talks, Daemon took your hand and kissed it. He didn't need to tell you anything, you could see it in his eyes, he was grateful that you encouraged him to stop hiding and that he would make an effort to form a bond with his son.

When it was time for Baelon to go to sleep you and him got up from the table to go to the nursery but first Baelon said goodbye to his Kepa with a kiss on the cheek. You encouraged your son to go ahead with one of the maidens while you stayed with Daemon.

"I'm proud of you," you said as you took your husband's face in your hands and leaned in to kiss him "I can't wait to see you with the next one" you declared between kisses.

Your husband took a while to register your words because he was distracted by the taste of your lips but once he did he stopped kissing you to look at you impressed.

"Are you pregnant?" He asked just to make sure he understood correctly although he could already feel his heart racing.

You nodded with a smile and let out a laugh the moment Daemon pulled you onto his lap. You kissed his neck while his hand rested on your stomach. You still didn't show but he couldn't wait to see how the life inside you grew. He couldn't be by your side when you were pregnant with Baelon but this time it would be different, this time the two of you wouldn't have to discuss the baby's name by letter, this time Daemon would feel the baby's kicks instead of having to imagine it, this time if you wanted him, he would be by your side when you gave birth, this time he wouldn't have to wait years to meet his son. This time he would be there to see him grow.

"This time I won't miss anything," he promised, kissing your forehead.

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barbiedragon · 8 months

Text

Sweet Maiden

Daemon Targaryen x brothel!reader (reader has Valyrian features)

A request filled for @insertsomethingsillyhereple-blog

WC: 1.5

Warnings: mild Dub-con, rough sex, creampie, pussy slapping, oral (m receiving)

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

The moment he entered the brothel, all eyes were on him. The Rogue Prince was clad in shimmering armor with a gold cloak flowing behind him. Blood splattered across his cheeks and the metal that decorated his chest. It was no doubt dripping from Dark Sister as well.

“I require wine and a good fuck,” he smirked, addressing Mysaria as he removed his helmet.

“Yes, my Prince, and whom or what do you desire this evening?”

Your stomach clenched in anticipation. You and Mysaria were his preferred choice. Either alone or simultaneously. He favored her experience, but your looks enraptured him. You came from Lys, where Valyrian blood still flowed through veins, and you were blessed with silver hair and lavender eyes. However, you could claim no noble birthright, having been born a bastard. You were quite popular among those who pretended you were a Targaryen. You peered from behind a translucent curtain as they discussed the matter. Daemon spotted you, fixating you with a hungry gaze. Predatory and ready to devour you.

“Her,” he told Mysaria simply.

“Of course, my Prince, follow me to a private room,” she smiled, extending her hand to you.

You pressed your palm into hers, trailing behind her as she guided you and Daemon to one of the private rooms. One finger slipped under your chin before she kissed your lips. You assumed it was to tempt Daemon to let her stay, but he quickly dismissed her. You turned to face him, cheeks hot with desire. He stepped forward without a word to yank your dress free. It pooled around your feet and left you bare before him. Your fingers roamed over the blood-stained metal breastplate before helping to remove his armor and clothing. Soon the Rogue Prince stood naked and proud, cock at half-mast. An alluring treat nestled between dark curls.

“On your knees. Use your mouth,” Daemon ordered sharply, and you obeyed.

Your fingers splayed against his hips as you drew his cock into your mouth, tongue swirling over his shaft until you fit him deep inside. You worked him over a steady pace, leaving a trail of saliva behind. His head tilted back, and a soft moan escaped him. That was a first. Usually, he was all grunts and sharp commands. You brought him to the brink before he tugged you off.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you moan, my Prince…it was like a melody,” you whispered.

He scoffed at your words. Silver hair toppled down his bare shoulders, glittering in the candlelight. He tugged you up, pushing you onto the threadbare bed in the room. A soft gasp escaped you as you landed with a thud.

“That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard,” he taunted, no doubt a cruel jab at your remark earlier. However, you were no stranger to men causing pain. Many thrived off it. You developed a thick skin, part of the perils of your profession.

“I want to watch you prepare yourself for me,” Daemon instructed as he pried your thighs open.

A blush spread across your neck and cheeks as you slipped a hand down your stomach while your fingers found their way to your dripping center before you slowly began to stroke your folds. His intense purple eyes fixated on your every move.

“Are you going to make me pleasure myself all evening, my Prince?” you whimpered, arousal leaking onto your fingertips.

Daemon moved swiftly, and soon your hands were pinned above your head, clasped tightly in one of his strong hands. His leaking cockhead dragged across your folds before slowly sinking inside of you.

“Let me have you. Let me claim you. Let me make you mine. I want to take you apart in every way. With my fingers. With my tongue. Until you are nothing more than a sobbing mess, little maiden,” he growled, giving a strong thrust of his hips until he buried deep inside your cunt.

“Oh! Please be gentle, my Prince. You are my first,” you gasped, well-versed in the game he wished to play. You battered your lashes demurely while nibbling on your lower lip. It was the furthest thing from the truth, but it did not matter so long as you gave the illusion. After all, he was the man who claimed your flower many moons ago when you came to work for Mysaria.

How you had trembled under his stern gaze and feared what he might do to you. Your fingers had toyed with the gauzy white dress Mysaria dressed you in, the outline of your body visible beneath the thin material as the Prince sized you up.

“You are stunning, riñītsos (little girl). You have Valyrian blood,” he complimented, holding your chin between his strong fingers.

“You are very kind, my Prince.”

He scoffed. “Kind is not a word many use to describe me.”

“M..mayhaps they just don’t understand you, my Prince,” you replied sweetly with an earnest look.

There is no way any whore in this place is that innocent.”

“I guess I am?”

“Not after I’m done with you, riñītsos.” His words were dark and heavy, sending a shiver through you before he took your hand into his, guiding you off to the private rooms.

With wide eyes, you watched as he removed his clothing as trepidation set in.

“Maybe we should put that pretty mouth to good use. Don't be shy. Taste me." It was then that you found yourself forced onto your knees, learning how to take his cock into your mouth. How you sputtered and gagged around his girth, drooling leaking out of your mouth. But you learned quickly and soon became his favorite to visit.

“Am I, riñītsos? You’ve managed to be left unspoiled for this long? What a delight,” he smirked as his hips found a steady pace. The slickness of your cunt made lewd noises fill the air each time his flesh slapped against your own.

Sharp teeth gnashed at one of your pebbled nipples, and in the moment, he seemed more dragon than man—a beast brought to life by lustful desire. You could have sworn you saw fire blazing in his eyes. Still pinned in his firm grasp, you wrapped your legs around his waist for closer contact as he pounded into you, making the bed shake. You oft wondered if he imagined you to be Princess Rhaenyra during these trysts. Did he pretend it was her tight cunny impaled on his thick cock? Is that what brought the animal out in him? Was the dark desire to fuck the Realm’s delight, to defile his sweet niece, an all too consuming need that drove him between your legs?

“My Prince!” you squealed as a fresh wave of pleasure crashed over you, indicating your peak was near.

“Go on, sweet maiden, wet my cock, show me how well your Prince has fucked you,” he hissed.

You trembled with your head tossed back in the throes of pleasure as you soaked his cock as a whine toppled from your mouth. He continued to rut roughly against you until he reached his release. As he pulled out, you could feel the warmth of his spend trickle down your thighs. His fingers gathered the leaking seed, slowly pushing it back inside you.

“Dragon seed shouldn’t be wasted, sweet maiden.”

You shivered as his blunt fingers pushed inside of you, making you squirm and buck against his touch.

“Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic,” Daemon sneered, pulling them away from you before delivering a harsh slap to your cunt.

Tears gathered in your eyes from the harsh contact, but you refused to let them spill down your cheeks. Were you not allowed to chase pleasure as well? No, you supposed you were simply meant to be a toy, an object to be enjoyed by the men of the realm. What you wanted or desired was of no consequence. You were just a whore.

After using a cotton cloth to wipe himself clean with, Daemon stood, walking over to the table to pour himself a glass of red wine. You remained a sticky, clammy mess as you reclined on the bed, pushing a few strands of silver hair off your sweaty cheeks.

“Will you be in King’s Landing long, my Prince? Or will you be called back to the Vale or off to a new adventure?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Nothing could draw me to the Vale. I care nothing for that place or my pathetic fucking wife. I’ve decided to remain here for now and serve out my duties as Commander of the City Watch.”

“Princess Rhaenyra is of age now. I suppose she shall be taking a suitor soon,” you commented and saw a dark flash in his eyes.

“I suppose so,” he murmured, cock slowly springing to life again at the mention of her name. You had suspected as much. He always had an ulterior motive and clearly wished for her hand in marriage. Twas not uncommon for Targaryens to marry within the family.

Daemon returned to the bed, sprawling out on his back, his hands folded behind a halo of silver hair.

“Why don’t you ride this dragon, my sweet maiden.”

With one hand pressed against his muscled chest, you mounted him. Cock stretching you wide again. A strong hand wrapped around your throat as he spoke lowly,

“You will call me Kepus as you do so.”

“Yes, Kepus,” you whispered while you rocked your hips, riding the dragon into sweet oblivion.

Tag List: @valeskafics @watercolorskyy @oneeyedvisenya @aemondx @dreamsofoldvalyria @em-writes-stuff-sometimes @willowbrookesblog

#requests #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon x fem!reader #hotd smut #hotd imagine #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #pro daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader

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targaryen-dynasty · 9 months

Text

COMFORT.

Daemon Targaryen x valyrian!Reader

You understand the Rogue Prince like no other, and so it's your task to put his mind at ease again when he stumbles into the brothel.

WORDS: 1.5 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; DUB-CON, ass eating, handjob, balls worship, size kink, squint and you'll miss the breeding kink, valyrian!Reader (has pale skin, silver hair), bastard Valyrian/High Valyrian

NOTES: I KNOW I said I’d leave for some while, and I’m not really active on here besides setting up a queue but I just couldn‘t let go of the thoughts of some good ol‘ ass eating with our uncle-daddy. This work is not meant for educational purposes, but please wash yourself before doing sth like this.

It was a lacklustre affair.

Daemon had been thrusting and thrusting for quite some time with little effort or enthusiasm, arousing nothing but awkwardness and deep desire for it to be over.

Perhaps it was your faked moans of pleasure or perhaps the disheveled state he was in when he stormed into Chataya’s, nevertheless, he was disgruntled as he pulled out of you, clearly frustrated by his poor performance.

As he sat down on the sill, quilt wrapped around his hanging shoulders, you were quickly reminded that the usually confident, self-assured and strong Rogue Prince that didn’t much care what anybody thought of him actually very much cared, and was nothing more than a tender man who was wracked with doubt.

Getting on your feet, you prowled toward him, standing between his parted legs. You cupped his face with one hand, forcing him to look up at you.

“It is possible the Queen will give birth to yet another girl,” you tried to cheer him up, grabbing both his large hands and caressing them with your thumbs. Alas, the attempt did not bear fruit, the dragon in front of you merely scoffing. It seemed there were a few more layers you had to peel off tonight to figure out what truly plagued him, though you suspected something–or someone–particularly to bother his mind.

You squeezed his hands before pulling him onto his feet, despite him seeming rather reluctant. “Allow me to put your mind at ease, my Prince,” you hummed, and guided him back toward the bed.

When he lay down on his back, you tsked, “va ao iemny.” On your stomach. It was your Lysene origin that granted you the ability to speak a version of bastard Valyrian, and was one of the main reasons the Prince had chosen you a few moons ago. That, and your pale skin and silver hair.

His lilac eyes widened ever so slightly at your bold command, but he complied. The bed barely dipped beneath your knees as crawled between his parted legs. You sat back on your haunches and trailed your ring clad fingers over his sides, starting at the top. A few of the scars were traced by your fingertips, and you relished in the way he shivered under the gentle and teasing touch.

Keeping a close eye on him allowed you to spot the way his upper body moved in sync with his heavy breathing. What surprised you the most was that he held his eyes closed, visibly enjoying your ministrations despite them being barely there.

“Bisa iksis daor mirre,” you said, the smirk on your lips reflecting in your tone, “iksan daor gaomagon.” This isn’t all. I am not done.

Reaching for one of the more firmer pillows, you grabbed his hip to raise it a bit before shoving it underneath his lower stomach, angling his hips and giving you the best possible access to his rear and cock. Daemon was open-minded and had ample experience up his sleeve, and it wasn't the first time you paid attention to anything other than his cock.

You bowed forward, your lips finding the sensitive spot in the nape of his neck that always had him purring like a cat and bending to your every wish. Lingering there for a few moments with your teeth nibbling on his skin, you eventually licked over the faint mark that followed in your teeth’s wake, before departing down.

While open-mouthed kisses were pressed to his spine, both of your hands began to tease his buttocks. At first, it was only gentle caressing, but as your mouth traveled lower, the bolder your hands got. You squeezed his flesh, and gently parted his buttocks to expose his arsehole to the warm breath you exhaled.

Your eyes flickered up to gauge Daemon’s reaction for a split second before you gathered some saliva and spat it onto his unprepared hole. His muscles tensed slightly with the sudden wetness, but when your index finger circled around the rim, he relaxed just as quick.

A faint hum was audible, coming from the Prince in front of you, and when you pushed the first digit in, it was replaced by a groan.

“Fuck–”

“How does that feel, my Prince?” you purred.

“Good,” he rasped.

That was encouragement enough for you to spit into your other hand, coating his cock in it and using the slickness to tug on it with ease. Being penetrated on both ends had him releasing wanton moans in no time, only increasing in volume as you bowed forward and replaced your finger at his arsehole by your lips and tongue.

If it wasn’t for your mouth and tongue being occupied by sucking and lapping at his hole, you would’ve chuckled as he desperately pushed his hips back against your face. You dragged your tongue over the rim, and kept your blue-lilacish eyes on the Prince beneath, watching carefully what worked best and what not.

One of your hands spread his buttocks, allowing you to keep your lips against his ass as your tongue pushed in. You stilled briefly, but were spurred on when you heared the strained groan he released.

“Sīr sȳz, gaomagon jāre,” he panted, “... kostilus.” Hearing him beg was new, but you couldn’t deny that you found a certain liking in it. So good, keep going. Please.

As you felt his cock twitch in your hand, indicating that he was on the verge of peaking, you released it and instead processed to fondle the sac of his stones, squeezing it.

The whine that escaped his throat as you pulled back to spit into your hand was the epitome of pathetic, and he obviously had your teasing coming. “Skoros massitas naejot se nēdenka dārilaros, mh?” What happened to the fierce Prince, mh?

“Jorrāelagon nyke naejot–” The threat died on his tongue as yours dove back into his arsehole, returning to its task with vigor. Need me to–

Just like his cock, his stones were coated in your saliva, making it easier to fondle and squeeze them. Daemon started to rut his hips, and it was clear what he was doing or rather chasing. With his hard cock rutting against the pillow, your hand fondling his stones and your tongue fucking in and out of his hole, he felt his peak slowly building at the base of his shaft.

If it would’ve been any other patron, you would’ve stopped your ministrations and thought about a punishment to put him back in his place, but it was no normal patron lying in front of you. It was a Prince, and a dragon in flesh at that.

Your tongue and hand were tireless in their motions, determined to push the rogue over the edge, and judging by the way he was writhing and rutting as if his life depended on it, he was close to toppling over.

The strained groan he wanted to release, the one that always came whenever he spent himself, was replaced by a gasp, caught off guard by the way your tongue curled up on its way out, tugging at the rim in a way that drove him insane.

“Seven hells,” he grunted, and was quick to wrap one hand around his twitching member, tugging on it to embrace the approaching release that threatened to undo him.

“I–I’m–” the words cut off as his peak crashed over him. His other hand fisted the covers tight enough for his knuckles to blanch, while his hips and hand worked in tandem with your own and your tongue to coax him through the pleasure.

His orgasm tingled at the spot where his sac met his cock, and it was almost ridiculous how much of his spent squirted out and coated the sheets and the pillow below. It was such a shame it went to waste, because you knew at least one spot of your body where you would’ve preferred it.

You had withdrawn your mouth from his hole not long after the peak subsided, and crawled up and hovered over his tall frame. Collapsing on top of him, he merely scoffed at the added weight, but was quick to hum as your lips pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. A tired smile was adorning his features, and his lilac eyes were closed again, relishing in the bliss he felt.

“How do you feel?” you asked, and though your blueish eyes twinkled with mischief, the genuine concern seeped through your words regardless. Daemon kept on smiling, reaching up to gently cradle your face before he grabbed your body, keeping you steady on top as he turned to lie on his back. His head was propped up on a pillow and yours was resting on his chest, his heartbeat lulling you into calmness.

“Iksi henujagon syt Zaldrīzesdōron isse se ñāqatubis,” he mused. We are leaving for Dragonstone in the morning.

And when you looked at him with utter confusion written all over your face, he elaborated further. “You are foolish if you think I would go into exile without you.”

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happilyhertale · 6 months

Text

The Rogue Prince - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After a stressful day that leaves Daemon in a bit of an angry mood, you decide to give him some relief. But in a different way than you usually do.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x poc!wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Hey you (: A one-shot Daemon story requested by Anon 🖤 It took me some time but I hope you like it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3.5 k

Other stories of mine

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You didn't have to look up, just the way the door slammed open was enough of a sign for you to know - Daemon was pissed. He entered without knocking, his armour clattering against itself.

In a mixture of snorts and grumbles, your husband strode into your chambers. As you lifted your gaze, your warm hazel eyes met the captivating intensity of his purple eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. Your curious gaze wandered further, discovering the mess of dirt and the almost macabre pattern of dried blood clinging to him. Uncertainly, you put aside the book you were engrossed in and approached Daemon, who was already in the process of freeing himself from the constricting confines of his armour. But before you could approach him, a piece of his armour flew into the far corner of the room.

"It will not improve your mood if you damage your armour," you say gently and help him to open his armour.

He just looks at you and his gaze makes you shiver a little again.

"What do I care about this fucking armour?" he hisses.

You look at him and your hands continue to work on the buckles and remove the chest piece.

"You want to tell me what happened?" you ask quietly.

There is a brief silence in your chambers and you use the time to admire his muscular chest, visible under his shirt. His body does not fail to bring you to ecstasy.

You look into his eyes again as he begins to speak.

"None of these idiots in this council understand the importance of cleansing our city of these filthy criminals! Not one!" he hisses.

You nod at him and try to concentrate on his words and not let his body distract you.

Your hands continue to work on the buckles of his armour.

"The city is full of disgusting creatures. They steal, they kill, they rape and none of those cunts at that council table give a shit!" he continues to hiss.

"But you do," you say softly and his eyes meet yours.

"I will teach these people to fear the golden cloaks again," he says in his deep voice.

You smile slightly and take off the last piece of his armour. Your fingers begin to take off his shirt.

"First we have to clean you up," you say gently.

Daemon's soft chuckle, markedly different from his previous behaviour, resounds through the air as he spreads his arms and asks you to release him from his shirt. His shimmering silver lengths fall over his shoulders, framing the network of scars etched into the skin of his neck and nape. These battle-scarred marks, created by victories and fire, are revealed in all their glory.

Your fingertips run tenderly over these well-deserved scars, your soft olive hue a striking contrast to his pale skin. You relish these imprints of his commanding prowess on the battlefield, each scar telling its own story, a testament to his unwavering leadership qualities. Daemon watches the movements of your fingers and notices how your gaze is fixed on his chest, unable to avert your gaze.

"Are you sure you just want to bathe me?" he murmurs, and your gaze jumps to his eyes.

You smile slightly, "Yes, I do," you say seriously and take his hand, leading him into the adjoining bathroom. Daemon grunts in disappointment, but lets himself be led along. The bath is quickly prepared and warm steam rises from the tub.

Daemon stands next to the tub of hot water and begins to open his trousers. As they slide down, you can see his already hardening arousal, but you avert your gaze and go to a small dresser in the corner of the bathroom.

Daemon watches you, a grin on his lips.

"Oh come on... You can't ignore my needs like that..." he says, but you interrupt him.

"Into the warm water with you," is all you say as you look through small bottles on the dresser to find the right one. You have these little vials from your home in Dorne, filled with different elixirs, and this time you want to put him in the right, stimulating mood.

Daemon grumbles something unintelligible, but obeys and gets into the tub. His gaze is fixed firmly on your back.

"Will you at least keep me company?" he asks, and you can hear in his voice that he is getting impatient.

You turn to him and smile, "No... at least not in the water," you say softly.

With two bottles in your hand, you stride to the bathtub. In the soft, flickering light created by candles, Daemon's gaze fixes on you and you can see an unspoken desire in the depths of his eyes to just grab you. But instead of giving in to temptation, his hands grip the edge of the tub. He leans back slightly and lets you pleasure him, a sign of trust he has only in you.

You kneel behind him, set the vials aside and carefully remove the hair ribbon from its silken lengths. As the ribbon gives up its hold, his hair falls gracefully over his shoulders. The once shining silver strands, now clouded with dirt and sweat, literally crave your touch. You gently begin to work water into the lengths, and the soothing rhythm elicits a contented murmur from Daemon as his eyes are gently closed.

Your hand wanders to a vial, its lid giving way with a soft, melodic pop at your careful touch. At this slight disturbance, Daemon's eyes flicker open to take in the unexpected intrusion.

"What's that?" he murmurs. You smile slightly, "Lavender oil... I like it when your hair smells fresh," you say soflty.

Daemon reflects your soft smile, "All right... If my Dornish princess wants me to smell like a silly bush from the garden, I don't think I could refuse," he mutters. With a smile, you apply a few drops of oil to his shiny silver locks and enjoy the feel of his long strands gliding through your fingers as the accumulated dirt runs effortlessly down.

After pampering him with your grooming, you rise and hand Daemon a towel. With a synchronised movement, he accepts the towel, and as he dries himself, you return to the bedroom with the other vial of elixir. Daemon follows you silently, his shapely form wrapped in the loosely hanging towel.

"Now you're going to take care of my needs?" he says to you, a cheeky smile around his lips. And at that moment you notice the bulge under the towel. You smile, "Lie down on the bed," you say.

Daemon's smile widens, like that of a child who finds an unexpected, delicious treat. He complies with your request and lies down in your marital sanctuary - the very bed where he makes you squirm and beg every night. But this night it will be different.

With an expectant gaze, Daemon watches your every move. How you slowly take off your dress and walk towards the bed. You crawl onto the bed and his hands reach out longingly to pull you close.

But you push them away, "Hands by your side," you say and move to sit astride him. Daemon looks irritated, but he obeys. You take the bottle and open it while Daemon watches you closely.

"More lavender oil?" he asks, "You know I'll have trouble commanding my men if my whole body smells like a flower bouquet" he says.

With a soft chuckle, you murmur, "Not a hint of lavender..." as the delicate scents of osmanthus and patchouli dance around you, washing you with their stimulating embrace as you place a few drops of the oil on your warm palm. Daemon's eyes remain fixed, transfixed by your hands as you set about the task of massaging the oil into his powerful chest.

"And I don't think you'll have any problems commanding your men.... No matter how you smell..." you say softly.

Daemon can only growl slightly as he slowly feels the effect of the scents and his arousal presses harder against you. You can feel a slight movement of his hips as he tries to grind against you. You stare into his eyes as your hands continue to glide over his skin.

"Don't move," you say to him. Daemon grunts, but he obeys - again.

You hear his breathing become more irregular as your hand turns to his belly. Slowly you massage the oil into the muscles of his belly, but your hands are unstoppable. You sit up a little and release him from the towel and his hot length springs free. It twitches wildly as you begin to rub his pubic hair with the oil. It twitches even more wildly as your hands turn to the shaft of his cock, which almost invites you to let yourself sink onto it. Daemon grunts impatiently, wanting to move his hips again, to somehow get close to your cunt.

"Don't," you just whisper, and your hands begin to wander up and down. You hear him gasp, see his hands gripping the sheet beneath you tightly. Your hands slide faster as his member literally pulses. Daemon breathes faster and faster as he chases his climax and you can already see the first drops of his release coming from the tip of his cock. You lean down and lick them away and hear him hiss.

"Woman, you will be my death," he whispers breathlessly. You just look up at him, grinning a little, and bite your lip. Your hand slides up and down faster.

It also increasingly excites you that he could just grab you, push you onto the bed and thrust into you, but he does not. He lies there and lets the feelings and actions wash over him.

When suddenly you feel a strong twitch in his member and Daemon spurts his hot seed onto his belly. He grunts loudly and watches you pump the last drops of cum out of his cock. He breathes heavily and closes his eyes briefly. His head falls back on the pillow.

"I think I need to take another bath..." he mumbles.

But you only smile, "I'm not done with you yet," you whisper. Daemon opens his eyes and looks at you in irritation.

You notice how he slowly softens in your hand, but it is not over for you yet. Slowly you slide further down and push his legs apart. You kneel between his legs and your hand gently moves along his shaft again. Daemon hisses slightly as you lean down.

You take his softening member into your mouth and begin to suck. The remnants of his cum unfold their salty taste on your tongue, but you love the way he tastes.

Daemon gasps, "What are you doing?"

But you just grin slightly and push him all the way down your throat.

"Gods...", Daemon gasps, but you notice that he is getting hard again.

But then, with a pop, you release his cock from his mouth. He is breathing heavily and still looks irritated, his cock hard again and standing in all its glory.

Daemon's heavy breath echoes from the walls of your chambers. You move and lie down beside him. You bite your lip gently and lean forward, kissing his neck softly. Your tongue is like pure fire that hits his skin and could cause new scars. A hot, arousing fire. His hips rise again with arousal and his hand reaches for the back of your head to move your head down. But you stop caressing his neck and look at him. You shake your head resolutely and Daemon pulls his hand back grumbling.

His voice fails in his throat and nothing more leaves his mouth as he slowly loses control. A growl sounds from him and his back arches slightly as your hand begins to caress his chest.

A moan escapes him as your nails leave light marks on his skin.

"Stop it, love," he murmurs. "You're driving me crazy" But you see his cock twitch wildly and you know he doesn't want you to stop. His hands reach into the sheet again and you know, that it's taking all his will not to grab you. Gently your lips graze over his neck as your fingers gently move down, teasing him. You feel the remnants of his previous climax and you see him bite his lip as you slide through it. His eyes are closed and you can see him enjoying this. Your fingers gently caress his abdomen, following the light hair to your destination.

A moan escapes him again. His hand suddenly reaches for your arm and you gasp softly, feeling his fingertips dig into your arm, showing you how much you're already teasing him. But you are not finished yet.

Daemon tries to concentrate on staying calm for your sake.

Once again, you can't stop your fingers from stroking his pubic hair as your smile widens. You watch his expression as you caress him.

A sharp intake of breath comes from his throat. He feels nothing but your touch. His fingertips dig further into your arm, but he finds it hard to stay still. You feel his muscles twitch and he just wants to pull you closer to him and take control of the situation so he can use your body as he wants.

But he forces himself to stay still. He forces himself to enjoy the passive role for once.

Your fingers gently graze the tip of his hard manhood. You bite your lip as you feel it twitch. As you close your fingers around the tip and the twitch shoots through your fingers.

"Ops...", you say softly, with an air of innocence, but Daemon knows you are not innocent and it's impossible for him not to react to that – a soft hiss escapes him.

His back arches slightly upwards and he grips your arm even tighter. His head turns towards you. His eyes are still closed, but you feel his lips seek yours. But you let him suffer. Let him feel what it is like to be on the receiving end of something like this.

"Is this what I put you through every night?" he suddenly asks softly, still keeping his eyes closed. You hear a slight breathlessness in his voice.

You smile again, "Yes... Every time you tease me..." you whisper.

You feel at your fingertips how his arousal continues to make itself felt, and the drops wet the tip of his cock.

"You like that, don't you?" you whisper.

He responds with a low growl, as if he's too busy enjoying it to reply with words.

His fingers disengage from your arm and sink to the bed, holding them still. It works up to a point. But you see his fingers clench into fists again and again.

You lean forward again and gently kiss his neck. Lightly you let your teeth sink into the skin. Again you hear a slight growl.

But still your fingers do not touch his hard member. Teasingly you only stroke his tip, refusing to embrace it completely. You feel it twitch violently again and again. Almost desperately it wants you to touch it. And again a moan escapes Daemon's throat.

You notice his breath quickening, and your own smile turns into a wicked little grin.

His fingers clutch the sheets on the bed as his muscles tremble slightly. You can feel the tension building inside him.

"Stop it... stop..," he murmurs, his voice strained by the desire to just grab you.

You continue to nibble on his neck. Your fingers, meanwhile, are stroking his pubic hair again, your caress growing rougher.

"Would you like me to touch you?" you whisper. With this question you have sealed his fate.

You see him contort his face almost painfully, trying to resist his urge. It would be so easy for him to give in, to just turn and take you as he wants. You see the inner struggle in him. The Rogue Prince who never begs, never bows to any command. The dragon who needs control over every situation. But still you see his breathing quicken, his muscles tremble slightly, he moistens his lips.

"Yes..." he whispers after a while, almost defeated.

But then his fingers move to your hips, wanting to grab you and force you closer to him. You slap his hand away.

"No, Daemon. Get your hands off me," you whisper warningly in his ear. You underline your momentary power and nibble lightly on his earlobe.

Your fingers now find their way to his balls, your fingernails gently scratching the now taut skin and he hisses again.

It's a struggle for him to take his hands off your hips. He doesn't want to. But he obeys.

You continue the torment, your fingernails almost driving him mad.

"You know you'll pay for this, you little pest," his voice sounds a little hoarse.

But with each word his voice grows softer and is now just a low murmur as his body continues to tremble with desire. You have the power over this moment, and you know it. You smile just slightly, knowing you will pay for this, and a feeling of anticipation spreads through you.

"Please," he murmurs suddenly. His breathing is quick and heavy. Right now he is nothing more than your plaything. The Rogue Prince on the verge of begging.

You bite his neck again, "Please, what, my love?" you whisper as your fingernails continue to tease his balls. He hisses again. His hips jerk a little, desperate for a touch.

His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find words to say what he wants. It's all gasps and moans and deep, animalistic noises now.

"Please... I need more...," he finally murmurs weakly. He can't say much more, he wants you too much. You know it. He knows it. You both know it.

A low grumble escapes his throat as he hisses again. He clenches his teeth as you grab his balls. He tries to take a deep breath to keep his voice low, but he can't stop his voice from shaking. "Touch me...", these are the only words he manages to say.

Your hand continues to grip his balls, squeezing them gently.

You kiss his neck, "My Rogue Prince...", you whisper.

He is silent now, looking at you with half-closed eyes, his breathing heavy.

You continue to kiss and nibble on his neck as your hand holds him tight, enjoying this newfound power over him. "If you keep this up, I swear we won't leave this bed for at least twelve hours. And I will make you suffer,“ he hisses, his last attempt at exuding dominance.

You smile at him, your fingers now slowly stroking along his shaft.

"I wouldn't mind," you whisper.

His hard manhood is dripping with precum. Your hand wanders along his hard manhood. It twitches violently as you rub the pecum over its tip. He gasps and grunts.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" you whisper as you nibble on his neck again.

"Yes...!" Daemon suddenly groans. You're playing with fire and you know it. Your teasing only drives him closer to his climax without you actually touching him. But you embrace him fully now, and the sudden rough touch makes him grunt loudly. Your hand wanders up and down, your other hand starts massaging his balls again.

"Then come for me, love...", you whisper. You are also breathing harder by now as your hand slides along his hard manhood. He is moaning uncontrollably by now, his manhood twitching. His eyes are closed and his hips are twitching.

His fingers dig deep into the sheet as he makes sounds you didn't think he was capable of. But his moans turn into hisses as your hand works faster.

He pulls your head towards him and kisses you fiercely, almost desperately. He holds nothing back now and you let him.

"My wife. My Dornish princess. My queen. I am yours. Only yours.", Daemon gasps and you feel the twitch move from his balls up into his cock.

And then he comes. Again his seed spurts onto his belly, while your hand does not slacken in its movement. You're still kissing him and he moans and whimpers into your mouth.

Daemon releases the kiss, still breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Softly he whispers your name, smiling.

"You're cruel, you know that? Cruel and beautiful," he whispers.

You giggle softly and watch the movements of his face. After a few deep breaths from him, he suddenly moves. So suddenly that you gasp slightly. Your eyes grow wide as he suddenly hovers over you. You stare into his violet eyes, his cum dripping onto your soft, olive skin, creating a complete contrast. Daemon slides his finger through it as it continues to drip, just as you did on his skin before. A dark grin on his lips.

"I'm going to make you pay even more cruelly for this..." he murmurs and before you can say anything, his lips meet yours and his hand finds its way between your thighs. Your whimpers echo through your chambers as his hand grips your cunt roughly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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queers-gambit · 5 months

Text

And Let Me Love You Anyway

[ part two of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader only description given: red hair and Daemon's able to lift you

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part one: "Tell Me Every Terrible Thing you ever did, And let me love you anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"Alicent, we're late," you sighed with a frown, wiping your sweaty palms nervously as your necklace was latched in place and perfume spritzed on your pulse points. YES - that included your ankles.

"That's the point, sister, we're supposed to be late. It sends a message."

Your eyes rolled, snipping, "The King will not be pleased. I am not his wife, he can get angry at me, you know!"

"He'll manage," she snapped, glancing at Talya. She continued, "He dismissed Father for telling him a truth he would rather ignore. So much so, after years of service, he'd - "

"Yes, yes, the King removed Father as Hand, sent him back home," you nodded with understanding. "But we both know how he feels about his daughter, The Princess! The rumors circulating would cost him his life in the end, we are lucky he was only sent home!"

"Rumors! Rumors, sister, truly!? Tell me, do you think Father lied?"

"I know he didn't."

"Exactly why we're late to tonight's affair," she huffed, fixing her hair in the mirror again. "It's a statement, it's deliberate. We will stand out, prove we are not happy with the turn of events. Why offer Rhaenyra blind respect when she continues to do as she pleases - regardless of consequences."

You paused, sensing her anger brewing and trying to distract, "You know, Ser Lyonel Strong is not a bad replacement for Father."

"This is not about Ser Strong."

"Isn't it? Father's served long and faithfully, but perhaps it is time for a new guidance. Lyonel Strong is a smart man - qualified, even!"

"Yes," she agreed, turning to face you in a shimmering emerald gown. "But this is still an injustice to our family that I fear I cannot overlook any longer. It's been weeks..."

"Yes," you allotted, nodding with a sigh. "All right, yes, you are right, sweet sister. This is all just - it's a lot to take in, to try and digest. And we talk of playing a game with the Throne - I do not think we've the strength to endure alone."

"This is not about Lyonel Strong, sister! It's about Father and the disrespect the Crown continues to offer. Remember that," she advised softly.

You nodded, "I know, sister."

She frowned, "And remember... They aren't our kin. Despite previous displays of kindness, the Targaryens have made it clear that we are not family to them. They are not blood to us, sister; they will protect their own, not us. If we wish to survive, we will need to ally ourselves."

"I understand," you told your younger sister. "I am not arguing, I know what our reality is now - I merely implore to explore the routes that won't label us as traitors."

"I know, we have much to discuss going forward. But none of that for now," she took a long breath, smiling as she looked you up and down, complimenting, "you look stunning. Truly, you might outshine the bride tonight."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, and that The Princess has a mature bone in her body - though I do not hold out hope." You smiled at her, "But enough about me, you look - you look like a Queen, sister-dearest. Gods, you're gorgeous, you look just like Mummy." The two of you shared an emotional, watery smile; embracing tightly as reality settled in your guts: it was you two Hightower Ladies against the whole of the Targaryen clan. "Come," you decided, taking a deep breath, "are we ready to go? Any later and I fear we might not get any cake."

"Oh, you and cake," she smirked, looking you over in a matching emerald, lighter-weight gown that had layers of thin fabrics clinging and dripping from your form. Golden jewelry was clasped around both your necks, wrists, tight around your fingers, and plugged into your ear piercings.

The Queen took your arm and left the dressing chambers you took refuge in, coming to a gasping halt when you were greeted by a well-groomed man in green velvet. "Father," Alicent exclaimed in shock.

"My daughters," he smiled, offering both arms, "I do believe we are now fashionably late. Hmm?"

"Exactly as we intended," you mused, taking his arm. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I was invited, if you believe that," Otto answered, the three of you walking slowly. "Though, I suspect your sister had something to do with that?"

"I only told Viserys I'd be deeply offended if you were ignored for this event," Alicent quipped.

"None the less, I am happy to escort my daughters to such a historic event," he spoke diplomatically, aware of the guards and servants milling around. Otto lead the way to the Throne Room - where you could hear King Viserys' echoing speech from the foyer.

None of you spoke, approaching the open doors and pausing to let everyone see the united Hightowers. Alicent wore her dark auburn locks pulled back from her face to cascade in thick ringlets down her back, your own Hightower-red hair left down around your face with the longer locks pinned off your neck. The entire room - the entire court - all wedding attendees and royal procession stared at you three in shock for entering during the King's speech. Your statement was clearly made.

Even from this distance, you could see how startled Rhaenyra was by your arrival, needing to fight off a smirk of amusement in order to keep your neutral façade.

You and Alicent walked arm-in-arm with your father, the once-Hand, down the stairs and up the aisle of banquet tables full of people, staring forward and giving no emotion away. The people buzzed in quiet gossip. The attending Hightowers of Oldtown, sitting closest to the royal banquet table because of their relation to the current Queen, stood first; everyone else following in a show of respect.

You and Alicent paused to let Otto sit with his relatives at the lower banquet table before joining arm-and-arm together. Over the muttering of the entire room, you whispered almost mutely, "Be kind, remain composed, we'll kill 'em with kindness."

Alicent gave a subtle flex to give indication she understood.

When you looked up at the table you approached under the King's heavy glare, you noticed there was an empty chair between Ser Strong and... Prince Daemon? Was that really him? When did he get here? Why was he back? It's only been a few weeks!

Your shock did not slow you, and as you approached the table reserved for the Royal Family, you saw Daemon smirking at your theatrics. Alicent did not let you part from her side as she greeted Princess Rhaenyra with a sickly-sweet voice, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

She ignored any other reaction to let go of your arm, kiss her husband's cheek in greeting, stand beside him, in front of her chair, and stare forward with zero other emotion.

"Congratulations, Princess," you whispered, bowing your head. "Your Grace," you acknowledged, doing the same and taking the empty chair between Lord Hand and Rogue Prince only to stoically stare forward in silence. You did as Alicent did, not looking at any other, and just waiting for a pregnant moment that seemingly never ended.

"Please be seated," Viserys finally permitted, everyone sitting at his behest. He cleared his throat, whispering to Lyonel Strong, "Where was I?"

"The joining of the two Houses, Your Grace."

You swallowed when a warm hand laid on your right thigh, Viserys continuing his speech. You glanced at Daemon, seeing his smirk, and instead of throwing his hand off you, you laid your own over his to give a long squeeze. You had wrestled with the idea of his favorite whore, Mysaria, and the idea of whatever he did with Princess Rhaenyra for weeks. Then when you heard word that his wife, Lady Rhea Royce, had met her untimely end, you knew he was involved, yet said nothing. You could only think deeply about what it all meant - and how you fit into the equation that was Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did...

All you could understand was the overwhelming affection you held for him. His shocked-wide-eyes found yours for a long moment, seeming communicating telepathically - you telling him you wanted him. His hand tightened to keep hold of yours, hidden from the public for the time being.

And let me love you anyway...

You tuned back into the King's speech in time to clap with the others, showing your support of the union you technically helped influence between Targaryen and Velaryon.

However, you caught the way Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, sighing to yourself; having heard through long private dinners what Alicent came to know and why this upset her so much. How strange to learn Ser Criston Cole admitted to Ali that he was coerced into soiling the Princess' purity - not her Uncle Daemon, like rumored. Yet none the less, the girl had sworn on her beloved, dearly departed mother to Alicent that she was still a maiden... A huge, glaring lie - that both you and Ali took personally.

You found all of this terribly interesting, yet did not let the distain show so boldly. After Daemon came to you in confession, you had yet to speak a word outside of public politeness to the Princess; feeling betrayed by what your lover had told you. He had been right: you were Rhaenyra's friend, she wasn't yours. So, you demoted yourself to create distance.

When the drums rumbled and the Princess took to the dance floor with her intended, you spared Daemon a look and muttered, "You do not have to look so annoyed."

"I'm not, sweet one."

"Nor so amused," you tacked on.

Daemon smirked at you, leaning in and pondering, "I am only wondering if you would care for a dance later, my Lady?"

You lied, speaking in a teasing tone, "I'm not one for dancing, my Prince."

"A single dance with me, then. Just one, pretty lady."

"You're pushy," you whispered, nudging him to keep quiet; but the grin on your lips assured him you were completely enraptured by his antics.

He sat back with a smirk, watching his niece and her fiancé dance. The entire courtroom clapped at the end, others flooding to the spaces around them. You glanced over as your sister stood from her seat, meeting your eyes and offering only a soft smile before descending from the table to approach your aunt and uncle from Oldtown - standing with your father on the side of the room. You sighed under your breath, your lover tightening his grip on your thigh.

Daemon made for a great distraction. "Did you hear the news?" He asked softly, reaching for his goblet of wine with his free hand.

"Which news would that be, my Prince?" You asked casually, pretending your heart wasn't hammering in your chest.

"Of my dear wife's passing."

"I did, actually," you fought off your smirk. "I am truly sorry to hear of it, I understand Lady Rhea was truly one of a kind. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love," you reminded in a whisper.

"Hmm. Don't be sorry, I'm not," he eased.

"You're not? Your wife died, Daemon..."

"I know," he met your gaze, "I'm not sorry because now it gives me vocation to follow my own desires."

You smirked, "Which desire will you follow first?"

His hand tightened to a bruising grip. He was not able to answer yet because your gaze was caught by movement, Rhea Royce's cousin approaching slowly, evidently a cup or two deep in the wine; making you remove Daemon's hand so you both could sit casually - without touching.

The man gruffly leered at Daemon, "In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes." Your lover spared you an exasperated look as he tacked on, "Even Targaryens."

"Who are you?" Daemon asked dully.

"This is Ser Gerold Royce, my Prince," you told him softly, "of Runestone."

Daemon perked his brow, asking sarcastically, "An excellent show of your knowledge, my sweet lady, but what does that matter to me?"

You didn't answer, Ser Lyoel Strong (who was listening in) didn't answer, because Ser Gerold was approaching the table by climbing the stairs. He growled at Daemon, "I am cousin to your late Lady wife."

"Ah, yes... Terrible thing," Daemon offered. "I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."

"You know better than anyone, it was no accident."

Through a smirk, Daemon quipped, "Are you confessing some guilt, Ger Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation."

You shared a look with Lyonel to your left, catching sight of the King's turned head - showing he was listening, too. Daemon easily deflected, "Here, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you." This angered Ser Gerold visibly, the man stepping closer, but obviously restrained himself. Your lover continued, "The truth is I'm glad you've come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Ser Gerold demanded.

"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?" Daemon had Ser Gerold pinned by legality, the man looking disturbed by his own realization. So, naturally, Daemon taunted, "After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie and petition Lady Jeyne myself. Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold."

The man sheepishly walked away, his inebriated mind whirling with possibilities. You glared, pinching Daemon's arm so you could scold him when he turned to face you, "That wasn't very kind."

"And?"

"You don't truly care for Runestone," you snapped. "Now that man will fear for his home, fret over the laws, and that's not very nice."

He sighed, "What would you have me do, sweet one?"

"Leave House Royce to grieve and rearrange their succession without your pettiness."

Daemon smirked, "Whatever my Lady wants."

"You're dreadfully annoying tonight, do you know that?" You whined. "I'm going for a dance, and no, this is not an invitation to follow," you warned him - albeit playfully - before standing to excuse yourself.

"Sister," Alicent paused you before you could pass her by. "Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, just felt like dancing, too much energy to just sit. Come join - "

"No, no, I should sit. Eat," she smiled. "Perhaps tonight will be when you meet your match and we can plan another wedding."

"Perhaps," you mused, squeezing her hand. "You all right? What did Father and Uncle say?"

"Later," she whispered. "Go on, go."

You joined the stream of people dancing, instantly grinning when you were welcomed joyfully by different suitors. The band played a lively beat, the crowd cheering in rhythm; you being twirled around men and women with matching grins.

You heard your name being cheered through a small giggle.

"Hi, Princess," you greeted Rhaenyra as you both marched along to the beat. You reminded yourself this was all a game and if you wanted to survive, you'd have to play your part strategically. So, you quipped as you danced with Ser Arryn Blackwell, "Nice party you've got, huh?"

"Oh, you know how we Targaryens do," she teased. "Where've you been lately? I feel as if I've hardly seen you."

"Just busy with chores since Father was replaced as Hand," you answered, spinning under someone's arm.

Nyra didn't comment on that, instead, waiting a few moments before complimenting, "That's a beautiful dress, really goes with your hair!"

"That's what I hoped for," you gasped girlishly, deciding to play nice when she reached for your hands. You felt weak for a moment, but the truth was, you missed your friend... So, you might've giggled a bit when you joined hands, dancing together instead of with anyone else. With kindness, you offered, "You look gorgeous, as well, Princess, I love this dress - "

"Yes, yes, we all look fantastic," Daemon interrupted abruptly, crowding over you, asking quickly, "can I speak to you a moment, my Lady? The Princess won't mind, right, Rhaenyra?"

"Uh, no, I guess..." She eyed the two of you with suspicion as she stayed in-beat with the music.

"Daemon, not now - "

"We need to talk," he pulled you from where you danced, glancing back at the head banquet table as he took your hand, and lead you deeper into the crowd. He turned you to face him, pacing a small circle around you, demanding, "Do you still want to marry me?"

"What? Why are you asking now?"

"Because I just asked your father for permission," he seethed, pausing in front of you, "and he outright refused, saying he's negotiating with the fucking Lannisters. I need to know what you want."

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you, the man who views marriage as a political arrangement," you eyed him with a curled lip of annoyance.

"What arrangement could I want? Your sister is Queen, my family is bound to the Hightowers already. My political marriage is recently dissolved, I am free to do as I please, regardless of what others want or say - "

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me plainly what you want from me, Daemon, no more pretty words and veiled truths. Be plain."

"You said I had a year, and look - it's been weeks. Weeks, my love, how much more plain can I be? I'm here, now, free to marry, and I need to know if you still want to marry me. I'll marry you tomorrow - "

"Oh, please! Would you steal me away?" You mocked with a chuckle. "Take me to Dragonstone? Make me your little wife that you'll come to resent, too? Just as you did Rhea?"

He reached out to aggressively hold your cheek and jaw. "I had no choice in my first marriage, I could never come to resent you - you're all I've ever wanted. I'd do anything for you," Daemon snarled over your lips, "including risking your father's wrath. I'd do anything to make sure we end up together, you are my heart - do not forget that."

"Then pull out your sword, cut them all down," you purred, feeling his hand tighten, "and claim me as your own - do not let anyone stop us."

His lips hovered over yours, breathing the same air, and before he could respond or kiss you, a woman screamed shrilly from behind you. Daemon instantly latched onto your body as a crowd formed to your left and right, and when you both looked, you were shocked to see the commotion happening at your feet.

"Love - "

"Daemon," you paused him, shocked as Ser Criston Cole was engaged in a fist fight with some Velaryon knight before Ser Laenor Velaryon, the groom, was tackling him to the side. What an interesting display of protectiveness from Ser Laenor over his knight.

Daemon rushed in your ear, "Do not look - come away with me."

"Wait," you held his hands to your waist, letting him crowd into your back as Cole had punched Laenor to the side and straddled the blonde on the floor once more.

He landed one blow before the knight was brandishing a dagger; but the White Cloak caught his arm and easily snapped it broken, startling the crowd. Beyond your ring of spectators, other men were trading blows and engaged in their own fights; total chaos taking over the whole of the Throne Room. You flinched back into Daemon's embrace when Cole screamed like a wild man in the mountains, repeatedly pounding his fist into the knight's face; literally caving it in, creating a human minced meat pie.

Someone better contact Mrs. Lovett!

"No more," Daemon decided, Cole rearing himself back as Daemon stooped to heave you over his shoulder. He was able to find safe (enough) passage through the people, approaching the royal banquet table. "Hey, hey," he whispered, setting you down and taking your face in his hands, the wailing of Laenor Velaryon seeing his murdered knight echoing in the Throne Room. "You all right? You hurt? Look at me, love, are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay," you whispered, swallowing unsurely; reaching up to hold his wrists. "I'm okay."

"Sure? You shouldn't have seen that - "

"It's all right," you assured, stroking his wrists. "I'm okay, Daemon, truly. Just... A little startled, maybe?"

"What's this then?" Harwin Strong smirked, panting lightly from his rescue mission as the Princess was attending her father, the King. "You two hit it off then, yeah? Is it me or are sparks flying?"

"Something like that," you whispered, trying to regulate your breathing after the adrenaline-inducing scrimmage.

"Easy does it, love," Daemon whispered, keeping you close as you didn't let go of his hands; wanting to stay connected. He told Harwin, giving a half-shrug, "They aren't sparks. She's everything to me."

"Perhaps your second wedding will go better than this one," Harwin sighed, hands on his hips.

"In some cultures, deaths at a wedding are considered good luck," you muttered, Daemon snorting lightly in amusement before running his thumbs over your cheekbones in soothing gestures.

"Didn't your wife just pass, Prince Daemon?" Your father demanded publicly with a heavy glare. "You'd offer insult to her memory by remarrying so quickly?"

"I've grieved Lady Rhea plenty, Ser Hightower, it's time to look to the future," Daemon declared, eyes daring your father to challenge him. "The Lady Hightower and I will wed. The sooner, the better, in truth."

And history would never be the same.

"What?" Rhaenyra demanded, whirling around at the news, making all others pause in confusion. "What did you say?"

"That I intend to marry the Lady Hightower."

"Her? Her? Fucking her - who is more prude than woman?!"

Well, that was mildly offensive...

"Rhaenyra - "

"What makes you think you're worthy?" She demanded of you, turning from her father to stalk across the platform. "Worthy of a man like Daemon, of a husband like Daemon? You've done nothing to - to deserve such a title! The title of Princess, of wife!"

You were honestly confused to your core.

"I deserve a man like he - not someone like you!" She continued, shocking the group as the Kingsguard cleared the Room of any lingering stragglers to keep this as private as possible. "You think I didn't see you on my tour? You were fawned over, all wanted to talk with you, but were forced to line up for me! You rejected them all on your own, and now I see why! You wanted to wait until the Lady Rhea passed, which makes me wonder - what part did you play in that?"

"Rhaenyra!" You gasped.

"What? Honestly, it would make sense - the day Daemon's banished, you weren't seen! I wouldn't be shocked if you were seen somewhere lurking in the Vale! You cannot have it all - you've always wanted my life, and now look! You have to have what I have, and now you've taken a liking to my uncle after our scandal! What? He wasn't interesting before? You heard rumors about us and decided you wanted him for yourself? Just because he was mine first? You just want to be me, you always have - you've always reeked of jealousy! This is all you wanted, to steal my family, and - "

"That's enough," Daemon tried. "You are out of turn here, Rhaenyra, do not make this worse."

"Why? Because little Lady Hightower's façade of being a respectable, pure woman is now tarnished?"

"We share one dance, albeit intimate, sit next to each other at a single dinner, shared some conversation, and you now think it's appropriate to call my virtue into question? What of your own, Princess? You just admitted to scandal with Daemon - but I wonder why the service of Moon Tea if your virtue was unimpeachable?" You demanded, feeling defensive on a new level. Even Alicent straightened up at your words.

However, Daemon rushed to add, "With all due respect, Princess, I don't want you, and you can't claim me as your own when you never had me. You might be angry, but it is no use to take it out on my intended, she is of rare stock and breed - she will not be questioned. Nor will my intentions with her."

Rhaenyra snarled, "Yeah? You don't want me? Well, you wanted me enough to try and fuck me at that whorehouse!"

There were gasps and murmurs all around, but Rhaenyra was glaring at you and Daemon, still standing together. His arms actually dropped to hold your waist, keeping you close as he snarled at his niece, "But I didn't. If memory serves right, I walked away!"

"You wanted me!" Rhaenyra raged. "You always were and always will be mine - regardless of the whores you bed in the meantime! And I want you, I am not yet married - "

"Yet I will not be who marries you, I am betrothed to another," Daemon reminded with a venomous tone. "There's nothing you offer that I want, Rhaenyra."

"I am not some inexperienced little girl anymore, I'm a woman grown, and I could do more for you than she ever could!"

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared.

Everyone knew she had gone too far and there was no coming back from any this. After a beat, Alicent stepped in as if questioning for the first time, "And yet, sister, you said the Princess was served Moon Tea? If Prince Daemon did not touch the Princess, does this mean she still," she scoffed as if the idea were absurd, "sullied her maidenhood? Before marriage?"

It should be noted that Ser Criston Cole was already gone from the hall at this time. In fact, he lingered just outside a side door, listening, in case his name came up. When Alicent spoke, he straightened up and started the slow trek to the Godswood.

"Ser Lyonel? Do I misunderstand?" Alicent pulled the Hand into the fray.

"Well, that's what that would sound like, Your Grace," he agreed begrudgingly. "Moon Tea is beneficial to prevent unwanted consequences outside of marriage."

"From what I understand, she was served by Grand Maester Mellos himself," you told Ali, minds strung together by a common thread. "The castle likes to gossip, you can learn a lot if you just listen."

"This is..." Viserys seethed, "Unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," you instantly apologized.

"No, no," he deflected, hand held up, "you have a duty to the Realm to flesh out any deception. And this," he directed his glare at his daughter, "is a grand deception that cannot be undone, unknown, covered-up, anymore, Rhaenyra!"

There was a meltdown. Everyone began yelling.

Viserys was enraged. Rhaenyra was desperately trying to plead with her father. Lord Corlys was demanding to know what the hell was about to happen with the impending marriage to "the future Queen". Ser Strong was trying to keep the people from each other's throats.

His sons stood to the side and just let them all fight.

Daemon kept you out of the line of fire, away from the action; sighing as you deflated into his chest. Over it all, Viserys' voice was angriest, and you heard, "You are no daughter of mine! The position you have put me in tonight - I cannot undo this, Rhaenyra! I should have never disinherited Daemon for you, breaking centuries of tradition because I wanted to see your mother in you! You have spat in my face around every bend, but this? This is unforgivable, we will not recover from this and I will no longer endure your insolence!"

"Father, please, let me - "

"No," he snarled, "I have had it with your disresepct the past several years, this is beyond any scale." You blinked up at Daemon, his lips curving down as his hands tightened around your form. And then, Viserys said the words, "I made a mistake naming you my heir. You may marry Ser Laenor, if you so choose to, but after that, you will reside on Driftmark with your husband - you will no longer inherit the Iron Throne after me."

"Father!"

"No," he snapped, "you've exhausted my patience, Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared. "And while Daemon might be unpredictable, the woman he wants to marry is not - and from where I am standing, she will make a far better Queen than you!"

It was quiet as everyone forgot their own selfish woes as father disinherited daughter.

"Your Grace," your father tried to step in, "with respect, why not place your son, Aegon, in line after you?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods, Otto," Rhaenyra raged, rounding on your father, "give up this campaign, you get all you want and more! Your daughter is Queen now and your other daughter will be Queen after that, aren't you listening? Your grandchildren will still inherit the Throne!"

"That's it," Viserys breathed, needing to hold onto the banquet table for balance as all eyes turned to him again. "It's time to do what I should've done all along. Rhaenyra," he shook his head, "I can no longer have you as my heir, this type of behavior cannot stand. I will give you permission to marry Ser Laenor, and if he chooses not to, I will allow you to reside on Dragonstone until a match is made. Until then," his eyes shifted to where you and Daemon stood, "I name my brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, as my Heir to the Iron Throne."

"You would not name your son?" Alicent asked in mild disbelief.

"No," Viserys told her, "no, I would see my brother as my heir. Should Aegon prove to live up to his namesake, we can talk about succession again, but I know my brother is capable... And though he might be overly wanting, he will learn patience, because I know the love of a good woman can change a man for the better."

You smiled, feeling emotional for a moment, but Daemon asked for you both, "Brother, do you mean to give your blessing?"

"Of course," he nodded once, "why waste a good wedding tourney? We shall announce on the morrow our new intentions - to crown Daemon as heir and marry him to the Lady Hightower. This matter," he panted, glaring at everyone, "is resolved, I will not hear more. Make the preparations!"

It happened in slow motion. Rhaenyra's rage flared to a temperamental height previously unknown; lunging to seize her father's Valyrian Steel, prophesy-engraved dagger, turn, and charge straight for you as the remaining audience shouted in panic. You felt Daemon try to push you behind him, but instead, your own temper flared and you stepped up to meet Rhaenyra; catching both her arms to hold her at bay.

Daemon was at your flank if you needed him, otherwise, he kept the Kingsguard away from you two - knowing this needed to happen now. Or else something worse would happen later...

"For fuck's sake, Princess! What is this? Jealousy? Huh?" You asked through your tears, struggling to hold your old friend's weight away from you. "What is this jealousy, Nyrie, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," she grit. You just sighed, pushing her back a little but not enough to overpower her; the girl's anger making her stronger than you would've previously guessed. "You've gone too far," she seethed through tears.

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the Kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please! Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"You think you finally get my life, huh?" She snarled. "You won't ever be accepted - not as Queen - not as part of this family! You've wanted this all along! Haven't you!?" She struggled against you, hands sweating. "You've always wanted my life, that's why you stuck around! Your mother died - so you tried to take a place in my family, make them yours - and now, look! You're nearly there! Pouncing on my uncle the moment he's widowed!" She snarled, bearing her teeth.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are, Nyrie," you whispered with a broad smirk.

"You aren't fit to play this part! To have my life! You'll never be accepted as their Princess!"

"I wager I'll do a better job than you ever could," you hissed. "There's not much to live up to, you don't leave a lot of room to fill."

She screamed when Ser Harwin's arms seized around her waist, but the momentum of him pulling her back and Rhaenyra's thrashing cause the Valyrian Steel dagger to slice your forearm. You yelped and reared back amongst the startled gasps and panicked murmurs from the crowd, Daemon catching you. The dagger clattered to the floor as Harwin backed up several paces to keep the belligerent girl at bay. You whimpered quietly at the sting, a pool of blood forming to the side you held your arm at.

"Fuck's sake," Daemon growled, "lemme see, lemme see, my love, c'mere," he winced, looking around before using his own belt to yank free and tourniquet around your lower elbow. "You're bleeding a good bit," he whispered, "you'll need stitches, sweet one."

You pouted at him, wincing again in pain when he tightened the belt.

Around you, the Kingsguard was ordered to escort Rhaenyra to her chambers, and the moment she was marched out of sight, Daemon was warning his brother that she knew about her secret passage door and parts of the tunnels.

Go stand watch," a personal guard was ordered by the King. "Someone go - go find Ser Cole - I want him posted in the Princess' passage, he's trusted to us."

Alicent slunk off to do exactly that, and she'd tell you later that Cole was found only moments from taking his own life. He was overjoyed to hear the King had requested him personally to stand guard for such a sensitive situation.

In the meantime, Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, thought it best their son not marry Rhaenyra; now that she had been disowned, she was less appealing. Viserys was free to offer her again later if Laenor was not married in that time and if she showed true change, but after tonight, nobody thought that possible.

Daemon tried helping your wound, your father approaching as he laid a clean cloth over the cut. Your lover tisked, "It's deeper than I thought. We should get this looked at."

"A moment," Otto prevented.

"If it would please you, this is not an injury I'd like to wait to attend to," Daemon sighed, nodding at your bloodied forearm that he held.

"I only meant to say, you have my blessing to marry, my Prince," Otto nodded at him. "Seeing the kindness you show my daughter, I feel... Content knowing she will be loved and cared for."

"Thank you," Daemon nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Father, but we really must be going, this doesn't feel very nice," you rushed to explain, watching him nod and eye your injury with worry.

"This way," He even instructed, a few handmaids rushing forward to help herd you away.

"Doing all right, love?" Daemon muttered as you walked.

"Bit shocked," you admitted.

"I'd say," he mused.

"It burns," you pouted at him.

"We'll get everything tended to, you'll feel better soon," he soothed.

You peaked up at his worried brow, pouted lips, darting eyes; whispering, "You're heir, again, Daemon."

"So it would seem," he deadpanned. "Can we not talk about it now?" He requested quietly, "I only wish to see to this wound of yours."

You nodded, and once in Mellos' chamber, you were left alone with your father - since Daemon was not yet your husband. Otto was silent as your forearm was stitched carefully; the bleeding staunched, herbs stuffed in the wound to prevent pain and promote healing. As you let Mellos wrap you in gauze, you glanced at your father.

"So... Your blessing, is it?"

"He's different with you already," he nodded stiffly. "And after his nieces' display tonight, I can think of no better future Queen."

"I do not wish to talk about future station, Father, but instead, that... That Daemon makes me happy and I am relieved you have given us your blessing. It would've felt very wrong to marry without my father in attendance."

Otto wasn't affectionate in the least bit, but he showed his love by doing his best to understand situations before passing judgement. It created a sense of trust and security between father and daughter. So, he asked earnestly, "And you will overlook what he did with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"He told me of it all the morning after it happened, I've had time to think, and I've had time away from him. I know what I want, Father, and while Viserys has changed history - again - tonight by naming Daemon heir, I know he is the man I want for the rest of my life."

"I see," he nodded. "Then... By all means, I will see this union happen."

"Thank you," you whispered, the Maester tying the gauze. "Thank you, Grand Maester," you spoke calmly.

"Of course, uh, um, Princess."

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," you whined, standing off his table. "Will you talk to Daemon for me, Father? I think you need to clear the air... I will not say the King will instill you as Hand again, but if I am to marry the Prince, I will need there to be peace between our families."

He nodded, opening the door for you, "It will be arranged, my daughter..."

As Otto took his leave, Daemon, pacing the hall, approached you. He took hold of your waist, asking, "Are you all right?" You let him hold your injured wrist in a soft grip, viewing the wrappings.

"Yes, Your Grace," you teased, watching his pale face flush.

"Don't start with that."

"Mellos just called me Princess."

"You are," he grinned. "And we will be married in less than a week's time."

"I can hardly wait," you whispered, letting his lips find yours in a searing show of rare public affection.

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