#daddy!daemon
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Sweetest dreams
Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: 18 +, MDNI. Let's get right into it, shall we? thigh fucking, pseudo-somno (consensual), seriously Daddy!Daemon vibes, p in v sex, unprotected, and so on.
Summary: PWP, seriously just brain rot. fem!reader is not described in any way, reader is sleepy, Daemon has a fantasy, consensual fantasy smut ensues. 1.5k words.
Daemon pulled your naked body against his, forming you to his shape. You fit perfectly in the curve of his body as you lay on your sides. He nestled your drowsy head against his chest. He kissed your hair, your ear, your neck. In your near-sleep, you snuggled into him. Your rear nudged at his erection.
“Shhhh,” he soothed while stroking your shoulder, then your side. His hand traveled down your hip. His fingers clutching your hip bone to still your movements.
“Go back to sleep, baby girl,” he whispered. “Keep dreaming. Such a nice dream, yes?”
You moaned in agreement as you curled your arms against your chest, tucking your fists under your chin. His warmth against your back comforted you and made you fall further toward sleep again.
It had been quite a long time since Daemon had woken you up in this manner. He ached with need and his darling girl looked so lovely while she slept. He watched your breasts swell under your arms with every deep, sleepy breath. Slowly, carefully, he slid his arm under your head and cradled you against him. He moved his other hand from your hip, between your bodies, and guided his cock between your thighs.
Daemon slid against your slick cunt and groaned. He bit his lip, trying not to wake you anymore than he already had. He moved his hips as slowly as he could. He put his arm around you and cupped your belly in his hand, holding you in place as he moved between your thighs.
Every time his cock brushed against your clit your eyelids fluttered. He felt so big, so hard, between your legs. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together but the completely relaxed feeling of your body was overwhelming. You hummed a small sound as you buried your face in his arm. You were on the edge of sleep, had been deep asleep moments ago, and your head was foggy from the overwhelming sensations. You smiled and exhaled, letting yourself slip closer to sleep. Daemon’s rhythm was as soothing as it was arousing. His hand on your stomach, his chest and belly pressed against your back, and the slow stroking of his cock were like the waves of the ocean rocking you back to sleep.
“You’re so good for me,” he murmured into your hair. His hand moved down your belly, just a little lower. “Such a good girl. And so wet for me, even when you’re sleeping.” You smiled and felt yourself blush even though he couldn’t see you.
You shifted your hips slightly and Daemon moaned. You felt him press his forehead against the top of your head. Even in your drowsiness you wanted him inside you. His constant motion was becoming unbearable. You encouraged him again with a slight movement of your ass against him. His fingers flexed against your stomach as he pushed his hips into yours.
“Please,” you cooed into his arm.
On his next stroke he obliged. He tilted his hips and nudged the head of his cock at your entrance. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and whimpered. Slowly, he pressed into you. The stretch of your cunt around him was always delicious for you both. The tinge of ache heightened the need you felt for him. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and exhaled.
“You take my cock so well, baby girl,” Daemon said as he nuzzled against your head. “Do you want all of it?”
Your yes was barely audible. But he understood and slid inside you without hesitation. You began to arch your back away from him but he quickly moved his arm from under your head to press you into him. You were wrapped in his arms as he started to move inside you.
Daemon thrust so slowly you thought you might lose your mind. You entertained the thought of disentangling yourself so your could flip him onto his back and fuck him but the delightful sounds he was making calmed you. He was moaning quietly with each thrust. You kept your eyes closed and played into his fantasy. The only movement you made was to slip your foot behind his calf, hooking your leg over his.
When you spread your legs to do this he slid his hand down further, grazing lightly over your clit. His fingers moved feather-light against you as he pumped into you. He began to increase his speed but, somehow, he seemed to barely move. You fought the urge to chase his fingers with your hips and instead lay as perfectly still as you could. Daemon might be enjoying this for other reasons, but you reveled in his near-worship of your body. You didn’t need to do anything at all, only let yourself sink deeper into the pleasure he was so eager to provide.
Daemon slid his fingers over your clit again and drove deeper inside you. He couldn’t get enough of your cunt. Holding you in his hand, his cock buried to the hilt inside you, your wetness covering his thighs and balls made him clench his jaw against the onset of his climax. He wanted to tell you how good you were, how wonderful you felt, but he thought he might plummet over the edge if he didn’t concentrate. He grunted through his closed mouth everything your muscles tightened around his cock. His fingers would pass over your clit and he could feel it immediately as he fucked into you. His mind raced as he imagined that you were really still asleep. And he was so proud of his girl for going along with, for allowing, his fantasy. Thinking of you, asleep in his arms, his to do with as he wanted, made him speed up. His hips matched the rhythm of his fingers on you and his chest swelled with pride when the only movement you made was the hungry clench of your cunt around him.
You couldn’t take it any more. Your climax was worming its way up from Daemon’s fingers to your belly, curling tightly inside you, ready to wash over you. His cock rubbed against that place inside you, over and over. Every time he pushed forward your muscles involuntarily clamped down on him. The resistance made it more pleasurable for him, but for you the pace was maddeningly slow. Just before you began to beg him, plead with him, his fingers pressed harder on your clit.
He began to fuck you in earnest now, quick, short strokes of his cock matching the strokes of his fingers. His quiet grunting near your ear and his hot breath started the sudden wave of your climax. You couldn’t keep up the pretense anymore and you moaned his name, loudly. He squeezed you tight against him with one hand as he drug out your ecstasy with the other. You squirmed and writhed in his arms. Incoherent pleading and whimpering came from your mouth as you neared overstimulation.
“You can take it,” he whispered. “You’re such a good girl for me, I know you can take it.” His breath was hot against your ear and you groaned. “I’m going to fill your little cunt full of my cum, do you want that baby?” You could only nod fiercely in response.
Daemon softened his pressure on your clit but pressed the heel of his hand against your belly to hold you still. Then he let himself go. The sound of your skin meeting, wet and sticky, drove you further toward overstimulation. He felt so good inside you but the sensations overwhelmed you. When you thought you might actually have to push his hand away, you heard him exhale your name from deep within his chest.
The growing heat in his stomach and the clenching of his balls finally released. He spilled into you as he came. He tried to focus on his hand, on your pleasure as he felt your cunt begin to spasm around him again. You cried out as a second orgasm washed over you. Daemon smiled softly and slowly removed his hand, moving it to your hip. He continued to thrust into you, fucking through both of your orgasms. His cum slid between you and made lewd, lovely sounds. Daemon shivered slightly as his balls tightened one last time, truly emptying himself into you.
As he grew still you opened your eyes. You head swam with the euphoria of not one, but two climaxes. You smiled to yourself. Daemon’s arm had slackened around you. You lifted your head and looked over your shoulder at him. He opened his eyes and looked at you through a fog of pleasure. Shakily, you began to move, disentangling yourself from his heavy limbs. He groaned as you pulled away and he slid out of you. You smiled. It pleased you that he could stay inside you forever, but you continued to roll onto your other side and laid down again, facing him. You drew Daemon’s head to your chest, smoothed his hair down his back, and wrapped your leg around him, pulling him close against you. He languidly slid his arm over your waist and nuzzled into your breasts.
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#daemon targaryen x fem!reader#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen#x reader#daemon targaryen x you#daemon x you#house of the dragon#hotd#house of the dragon fic#daemon fic#daemon targaryen fanfiction#x female reader#x fem!reader#daemon targaryen x reader#Daddy!Daemon
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Cg!daemon and cg!rhaenyra mood board please!!!💙
#cg!daemon targaryen#daddy!daemon#mommy!rhaenyra#cg!rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targeryen x reader#rhaenyra x reader#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#ria answers#little!reader#sfw age regression#caregiver#age regression reader#sfw littlespace#agere sfw#house of the dragon agere
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Have we had much discussion about daddy!daemon yet??
oh, anon,
i currently have the longest post in my drafts about daddy!daemon.
let's discuss, my love.
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But Daddy, I Love Him
Aemond Targaryen x Niece Reader
Synopsis: When the favored daughter of Daemon Targaryen falls for the favored son of Alicent Hightower, the Rogue Prince does everything he can to ensure that a union between the two of you will never happen.
Warnings: Not Proofread, ¿Softer Aemond and Daemon?, No Smut
Word Count: 5,019
It could no longer be denied nor be overlooked. It was growing painfully obvious to the court that the only daughter of Princess Rhaenyra has had her head turned by the second son of Queen Alicent. Everyone believed that the only thing the second-borns of the Princess and the Queen would share was animosity. Still, the return of Princess Rhaenyra and her kin to the capitol brought something different— something entirely unexpected. It started with stolen glances around the tilt yard and the halls of the red keep. Stolen glances lingered throughout dinner and the trial. Meeting in the library by chance turned into secret rendezvous. Banter and teases blended into meaningful conversations. Animosity turned to affection. Loathing bloomed into love. A love that cannot be.
“You look lovely, today, niece,” Aemond complimented as he caught you in the gardens. The prince relished the sweet blush that spread through your cheeks. “Shh, you might be heard,” You whispered in concern as your brothers were only seated a few leagues away. He hummed and dared to twirl your silky, curly hair into his fingers. “Shall you join me for a ride today, uncle?” You asked and took a flower into your delicate hands. You turned to the silver prince, who had a small, rare smile as he peered down at you. You boldly placed the plucked flower into the upper pocket of his tunic. “If you wish,” He answered, making you bite your lip as he stepped closer. “To the dragon pits then?” You asked, and Aemond offered his arm for you to take, and you gladly did.
Prince Daemon stood above the gardens and watched the scene with a sneer. He had been stewing in rage, fear, and uncertainty for the past few weeks. You could no longer be reasoned with. In his eyes, you could never do no wrong. You had never done anything wrong— his favorite daughter was perfect. But apparently, your return to the capitol had caused you to make a lapse in judgment. Trusting a Hightower spawn was a great mistake on your part. You, his smart and sweet daughter, have been corrupted and manipulated by the one-eyed bastard of a son of the bitch that had the title queen. It pained the Rogue prince, but he had to take extreme measures to ensure that you would never be bound and be played by a Hightower spawn.
You rode the skies next to your uncle. A wide smile on your lips and laughs, leaving your tongue as he playfully chased you through the clouds. His Vhagar may be the largest dragon there is, but she is also the oldest. Whilst your dragon had the quickness and agility of youth. “You’ll have to try harder than that, uncle!” You yelled in glee as you heard his frustrated groan when he lost you through a cloud. “I will catch you, little niece— and you shall give me my prize when I do,” He answered back, and you laughed in glee as your dragon rode through a cloud, making your stomach flip. “That is if you shall succeed!” You yelled before urging your dragon to fly faster and further from the prince.
The afternoon sun started to fade, bathing the two of you in the orange hue of the setting sun, and it was then that Aemond finally caught up to you. When you landed by the pits, you were quickly grabbed by the waist. Entrapped in the arms of an uncle you used to loathe. “I demand my prize, little niece,” He murmured by your ear. You feel your heart stutter, and at the same time, you feel conscious as the two of you may be caught. “I demand my kiss, princess,” he said, and you feel your breathing shallowed by his words and the sound of footsteps approaching. You two were luckily hidden behind the body of your beloved dragon. “Tonight, meet me in the library and you shall have my kiss, my prince,” You said and reluctantly urged him to let go of his hold of you.
When the two of you turned to the reason for the footsteps, your brows furrowed as you were both met with a gold cloak. “Can we help you, Ser?” you asked as Aemond cautiously assessed the trusted man of your father; stepping in front of you as if the knight would harm you. “Princess, I was sent by your father to escort you back into the keep.” He bowed and answered, but that did not aid your confusion. “It’s fine; I shall ride back to the keep with my uncle,” You answered, but the knight insisted that he had a direct order from the Rogue Prince that you shall return to the Red Keep under his supervision. “Just go; I shall ride behind you,” Aemond finally spoke after a moment, guiding you to the wheelhouse and glaring at the knight who interrupted the supposed private moment between the two of you.
When inside the castle walls, you were greeted by your father and eldest brother as you disembarked the wheelhouse. “I see you have met Ser Adam,” Your father remarked at the knight who helped you step out of the carriage. “He shall be your sworn protector,” Prince Daemon added, his gaze turning to a prince who greatly reminded him of himself during his youth riding, following closely behind you. “Sworn protector? I— I do not believe there is a need fo—“ Your father cut you off, taking your arm and stirring you further from the one-eyed prince who dared to step closer to you after he had disembarked his horse. “You are the only daughter of the heir to the throne— of course, you need protecting. Ser Adam shall be constantly by your side, and he shall report back to me and your mother for any potential threat that arises.” You looked back, confused, locking eyes with Aemond, who had his jaw clenched as he conversed with your brother.
“So I take it that my sister and brothers have their own sworn protectors as well?” You asked, feeling that you were singled out by your father’s sudden paranoia about your safety. “They too shall have one… in time,” He mumbled the last part, making your head snap up at him. “But in the meantime, Ser Adam shall oversee your ventures and activities. No more venturing out in the halls in the dead of the night alone. He shall be there by your side if any danger arises while you are in the dim walls of the library,” Your lips part as you realize that the knight was placed as a buffer, a wall between you and Aemond. You bit your tongue and made no further comment about the matter for now.
When dinner came, you were excited because it meant that you would be in the presence of Aemond once more, enveloped in quiet conversation with the prince who sat by your left. But a frown adorned your pretty face once more as your seat beside Aemond was removed and instead placed cramped between Aegon and your elder brother. You hear Aemond’s familiar footsteps approaching; you turn to him as your brother guides you to your new place. Aemond knew exactly what they were doing. His jaw tightened as they had been keeping you from him. He knew he should have been cautious with his affection when out in public, knowing it would not be received well. But how could he restrain himself? How could he control himself when you are near?
Throughout dinner, the two of you were silent, missing, and already longing to be by each other’s side once again. The prince’s face was filled with annoyance, his lips in a thin line. You held a look of solemnity, and a pout adorned your plush pink lips. Daemon turned to Jacaerys, the two of them satisfied with their tactics in keeping you and Aemond out of each other’s company.
After dinner, you hear your newly assigned knight trail behind you as you walk the path toward the library. You sighed as you heard the clank of his armor. “You can stay by the door, Ser Adam,” You say as you approach the silent room, Aemond already waiting for you in your favorite spot. “I am afraid that I cannot abide by your orders, princess,” He said, and you bit your tongue; you could not let out your frustrations upon him as he was only ordered by your father. You took your seat across from Aemond; the prince eyed the knight who stood behind your chair.
“What is he doing here?” Aemond asked in ancient tongue, annoyance seeping through his tone. “My father has instructed him to follow me wherever I go… instructed him to report back all of my ventures,” You answered and played with the embroidery of your fine dress as your pals for the night with Aemond were now ruined. “They are keeping you from me,” Aemond gritted, his hand clenching in anger. “And why should they do that?” You asked with a tilt of your head, moving to take hold of his hand, but the knight behind you cleared his throat as if a warning. You sighed and licked your lips and clamped your hands in front of you. “Because they are scared— threatened that…” Aemond caught himself before he uttered the deep truth he had realized just a week after you had returned. “That what?” You asked in common tongue. Aemond sighed and shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That I would burn for you, little light. That we are dragons that need to be bound by blood.”
You, being the watchful eyes of your sworn protector, did not last long. Aemond had commissioned some of the guards to pick a fight with your knight, and it left him bloody, bruised, and bedridden. Buying the two of you a small amount of freedom in each other’s presence before your father could find a replacement.
The two of you were in the godswood, hidden behind the white, ashy trunk of the Weirwood tree, away from anyone’s view. Aemond laid his head on your lap as you read a book written in the language of your house, him listening intently to your honey voice as it read fluent Valyrian. “You still have not given me my prize,” The prince suddenly said as you paused from reading. You turned to him, gazing down at the serenity on his handsome face as he lay on your lap. One of your hands intertwined with his and resting atop his chest. “What?” You asked, feeling your stomach flip at the intensity in his eye. “You still have not given me my kiss,” Aemond said, voice growing deeper and more serious.
You tried to laugh it off, moving your intertwined hands to your lips and kissing the back of his hand. “There,” you say, but Aemond sat up from his position. “That is not the kiss we discussed, princess,” He whispered, face inching forward to yours. You feel his cold hand on the apex of your neck and shoulder, pulling you in and sending gooseflesh to rise all over your skin. “Just one kiss,” You whispered as his lips were so close to yours, his scent of cedar wood, mint, and leather so intoxicating. “We’ll see,” he said and smashed your lips. Your heart stuttered for a moment, feeling his warm, soft, wine-tasting lips upon yours. It was supposed to be only a chaste kiss, you knew you should pull away, but as Aemond placed his hand on your waist and pulled you close, you knew you did not have the strength nor want to do so.
Unbeknownst to you, your secret actions with your uncle were caught by your eldest brother, who did not hesitate to run to your mother’s husband to report the scene. On how yours and Aemond’s lips danced, on how you grinned at each other as you acted to catch your breath, gazing at each other love-struck. On how your kiss under the scarlet leaves of the ancient tree had only solidified your emotions and deepened your desires for each other.
You were soon called to your mother’s chambers later that afternoon. “No, please! Please, you cannot do this to me— why… why would you marry me to him?” You cried to your mother as they announced that you were to be sent to the North as a bride for its warden. It was the extreme measure your father had to take to keep you away from Aemond. Sequestering you into the frigid wasteland just so a one-eyed dragon would not lay more of its claim on you. “You had promised me I was free to choose whom I shall marry!” You cried in front of them, knowing your tears had always been your trusted weapon to bend them to your will. “I’m sorry, my love… but, the crown needs allies… a union with Lord Stark is vital.” You shook your head, “The North is already sworn to you! You need not promise me to their lord,” You countered. “It was a decision your father believed had to be made, and it is to—“
Your mother’s words faded out, and you could only focus on how it was your father’s orders to offer you to a lord you had not even met. His cruel way of keeping you from Aemond. “My father is dead,” You suddenly gritted out, silencing your mother in shock as you said the bitter words. Though you were a product of Ser Harwin Strong, and the kingdom was made to believe that your paternity came from the line of Ser Laenor— neither of those men were fathers to you. Not like Daemon was. It stung you to say such words, but you were overly hurt that he had made such a decision just to keep you from the prince you loved.
“My father is dead; how could he have made such a decision?” You asked and dug your fingernails into your palms. Your mother sighed as you and Daemon stared each other down. “Daemon made the decision,” She clarified. “You are heir to the throne, but you would let a prince consort dictate the future of your only daughter?” You asked, menacingly. Watching the way your step-father’s jaw ticks at your impertinence. He did not know how to handle you in such a state; you were never one to rebel, but what was there to rebel against when everything you had ever wanted was quickly given to you?
“That is beside the point, my love; you still need to marry.” Your mother said, and you shifted your gaze to her. “I know! And I am happy to do so just as long as—“ Daemon cut you off. “Just as long as what?” He asked, “Just as long as it will be Aemond.” You proclaimed. “I wish to marry him, and he wishes to marry me as well! You are the only one against this!” You all but screamed with a stomp of your foot. Making your father roll his eyes and disapprovingly shake his head as they had filed you up with their lies. “You see, Nyra… look at how they had manipulated our daughter… they filled up her head with falsities— this had been their plan all along.” Daemon reasoned to your other, who looked in between the two of you with concern and cluelessness on how to proceed.
“Look at how they corrupted her… arguing, yelling, insulting us just to defend their disfigured son. They are playing her!” he spat bitterly. “Do not call him that,” you gritted to Daemon as he uttered offense toward Aemond. There was a silence that enveloped the room before you finally spoke once more. “Father, please… I love him,” you pleaded, ready to beg on your knees just for you not to be sent as a bride for a wolf. Daemon looked at your eyes, sincerity in your orbs, gut-wrenching sadness as pearl tears ran through your cheeks; that still did not sway his mind. “The decision is made. You shall be Cregan Stark’s bride.” He stated and walked off, leaving you to cry and wail in your mother’s arms.
Aemond eyed you with concern as you sat dejectedly in your place next to your brother and his. Your head hung low, and not once had you cast your enchanting eyes upon him— or anyone else for that matter. His hold on his knife is tighter as he realizes you have not a bite of your supper. His gaze went murderous as he finally saw your bloodshot eyes and trembling lips. They had made you cry. He turned to your father, a harsh look on his face, whilst your mother looked at you wistfully. Aemond then turned to Jacaerys, a smug look on his plain face.
As supper ended, Aemond was the first to leave the table. He made fast steps and entered your chambers to hide there, needing to speak with you, and he was certain that would not be possible whilst you were in the presence of your kin. He hid behind the pillar as he heard the door creek and your somber voice bidding Lucerys ‘good night.’ When he heard the door shut and bared, he made his presence announced.
It was then that he saw a clear view of your state: eyes swollen and red, lips trembling, nose sniffling, soft cheeks flush with sadness. “My light… what has happened?” he asked. You said no word, only ran to his arms and let you hold him as the tears came like rivers once more. “They’re… they’re marrying me to Cregan Stark,” You said in between sobs. Aemond felt the air knocked out of him, his form turn rigged and was immediately filled with dread. “What?” He asked, hoping what he heard was a misunderstanding. “They offered me as a bride to Cregan Stark. He shall arrive in a few days to be presented to grandfather, and we shall leave for the North in a fortnight.”
Aemond sat you down on your plush bed, wiping away your hot tears with his cold fingers. “You will never be his,” he swore, looking deeply into your eyes as your tears did not cease. I shall speak with your parents,” he said and tried to soothe you by running his hand through your hair and caressing your cheek. “Aemond, they wouldn’t even listen to me… their minds are made,” You said sadly. Your prince only shook his head and kissed the top of your brow. “You are a dragon. Wolves do not deserve dragons,” was all he said before kissing your lips again, hoping the action would distract you from your sadness because he could no longer stomach seeing you cry.
“They would never approve of us,” You whispered to Aemond as he held you to his chest. He tried to lull you to sleep, but your mind was distraught. “I do not care for their approval,” he uttered atop your head, inhaling deeply the scent of you. “But—“ You hear Aemond sigh and pull you closer to his leather-clad chest. “You will be mine, my light, just as it ought to be. Forget their qualms and objections— my uncle and his disapproval is a challenge I’ll happily welcome, just as long as you will forever be mine.” He stated as his fingers twirled your hair, “Let us just rest, ñuha ōños,” he murmured, and you did as told. Savoring the first and probably the last time in his hold.
“What are you planning?” Ser Criston asked as Aemond spent more hours in the tiltyard. The arrival of his betrothed had only spurred him to fight harder, train more, and let out his rage at the knights. “Pick your weapon,” was all the prince said as he wiped away the sweat off his forehead. “Tell me the reason for your more frequent sessions first,” the knight stated. Lilac eye flickered above the tiltyard, Aemond's jaw clenching and nostrils flared as he saw you walking around with the warden of the north, chaperoned by your brother. Ser Criston’s eyes followed the prince’s gaze, realization shining through his brown orbs. “My prince, you—“ He was cut off.
“I shall be challenging the warden to a duel for the hand of my niece,” he proclaimed and urged the knight to pick up his weapon. “But she is a bastard,” Ser Criston muttered lowly. Aemond's eye widened, and he had to greatly retrain himself from maiming the knight who stood as his father figure. “She will be my wife.” He proclaimed and returned to his training.
When all were gathered in the throne room to announce their betrothal to Lord Stark, Aemond stepped away from his sibling and drew out his sword, bravely challenging the warden in front of the eyes of the court and his father, the king. You felt your stomach pit in fear, for you did not know that this was the plan Aemond had devised. You had half the mind that he would have the two of you escape to YiTi and live freely there. You hear your father and brother’s disapproval of the duel, but you hear your grandfather’s agreement to it. Lord Stark had little choice but to accept the challenge. You turn to your mother, her lips in a thin line and hands fiddling with her rings, her expression unreadable as he watched men argue before the throne, dictating her only daughter’s fate. She felt your eyes upon her, and she took your hand into hers as fear was evident in your gaze. “It will be fine, my love,” She muttered lowly, but you had trouble believing her words.
When night came, the supposed family supper was discarded as both sides were furious and confused at what had transpired in the throne room. “She will not marry him— I would rather feed myself to Caraxes than watch our daughter marry a spawn of those cunts.” Daemon muttered to his wife and downed a whole chalice of wine, quickly moving to refill it once more. “She loves him,” was all your mother could mutter as she plainly saw the affection in your eyes. “And he loves her,” she added as he saw the tenderness and warmth in her half-brother’s usually cold, lone eye. Daemon scoffed and turned to his wife.
“Not you too— Rhaenyra, you cannot buy into their deceit! You cannot let your daughter be bound to that—“ The princess cut her husband off. “Why? Why are you so against this? Put your pride and animosity towards Otto and Alicent aside… our daughter has made it clear that she wants Aemond— and he, too, made it clear that he wants our daughter. There is no underlying deceit from his intentions… what will they even gain? The crown passes to Jacaerys; Aemond wants our daughter, not for power or whatever reason you had sold yourself to greatly disagree to this match!” Daemon shook his head at his wife’s words. “We need allies. We need the North.” He said, but Rhaenyra shook her head. “You are preparing for a war that may not come— already sacrificing our daughter on the way! And she is right. The North is already sworn to me. A Stark never forgets their oath. And if they need further convincing, my daughter and her happiness is too great a price to pay for them to keep their word.” Your mother defended. She watched as her husband’s jaw clenched and his hold on the chalice grew tighter.
“Daemon, you and I had both been subjected to marriages, not of our choosing, a marriage devised for peace and power but ultimately led to death and devastation… you cannot be so cruel to subject her to such a fate.” Rhaenyra said softly and walked towards her husband, urging him to change his mind. The prince breathed out heavily, “We shall see in the duel if he truly deserves her,”
You nervously traced the embroidery of your dress as you watched your prince battle with the Warden of the North. Both men still yet to tire as they galloped towards each other with their jousting sticks. You feel your mother reach for your hand as your leg bounces up and down in anticipation and fear. You took in a sharp breath as the Warden was thrown off his horse, and Aemond was quick to disembark his and draw out his sword. You chewed on your lip as you shielded your gaze from the men, your bloodstream filled with fear as you heard the clang of swords and their exhausted grunts. You hear the cheers of the audience grow louder, and you feel bile rising to your throat. You shut your eyes tightly and prayed to the gods and fates for it to end soon— for it to end and for Aemond to emerge victorious.
Your prayers were quick to be answered as you snapped your eyes open at the enraged screams of your brother and father— the prince having the warden on his knees and a sword upon his throat. “Surrender, my lord,” The prince breathed, his eye scanning upwards, in search of you. “Surrender, and you will keep your life!” The prince yelled, and you fisted your dress with each moment the warden did not concede. But when he finally raised his arms up and dropped his sword, lowly saying his surrender, you were finally able to breathe freely. “Our champion, Prince Aemond Targaryen!” Someone yelled, and cheers hollered around you, but they were quick to fade as your eyes locked with the man you can now call your soon-to-be husband.
The wedding was quick to come, no matter the reluctance of your father and older brother. You were marrying Aemond. Other members of your kin were finally accepting the union, seeing how you both were truly enthralled and in love with one another. They no longer held disapproval as they realized how bright and intense you burned for each other.
You were in your chambers, the final preparations made to you as you were about to be bound to the one-eyed prince in the eyes of men and the gods. “You look… you look exquisite, my sweet,” Your mother sighed and cupped your cheeks, her eyes and voice filled with heavy emotion. You tightly embraced your mother as she was the only one who was truly on your side when it came to your union with Aemond. Your heart throbbed melancholically as you were to be married without the support or blessing of the man who had become your father. You walked out of the chambers with your mother by your side, her being the only one to escort you towards the grand doors that would lead you to the great hall where Aemond waited by the end of it. She gave you one last kiss on your cheek before stepping aside and walking towards a side entrance and waiting along with the other guests; absent was the presence of Daemon.
As the banquet went on and your hand was freely clasped around your husband, you tried not to let your sadness be shown as the man who stepped in, as your father was not anywhere in sight. Aemond could feel your sadness no matter how hard you tried to hide it; he brought the back of your hand to his cool lips and hoped it brought you comfort. You flashed him a small smile and leaned in closer, “A dance, my wife?” He asked, his heart stuttering as a genuine smile spread to your lips.
He led you to the floor and placed his hand on your waist. No more secret touches, no more possibility of scandal, for in the eyes of the gods and men, you were Aemond’s, and Aemond was yours. As your husband spun you around and kept his steady hold upon you, your mind was finally distracted by the sadness it felt as Daemon was absent on your most joyous day. The thought of your father did not occur to you as you danced until you and your husband saw him approaching. Aemond was attentive to your reaction as he approached, ready to challenge his uncle for the distress and sadness he bestowed upon you. “I wish to dance with my daughter,” He announced, and you felt Aemond’s hold on your waist tighten; he was about to speak, but you nodded and reassured him it was fine. Aemond reluctantly stepped away, and you were left in the presence of your father.
There was silence at first as you were once again spun for the dance, but you soon broke it. “You did not attend our ceremonies.” You said, voice a tad bitter and resenting. You hear your father’s aggravated sigh. “I know you think he is playing me… I know you believe this whole ordeal is a farce, but it’s not. He loves me, father. And I love him greatly,” You say and urge him to understand. “You— your marriage is something I do not approve of.” You hear him utter, making your stomach pit, “But it is clear that you truly love him…” he trailed, his eye turning to your husband, who had his watchful gaze upon you, ready to come to your aid, the moment he sensed distress. “… And I suppose his intentions are genuine,” he relents. You turn your now hopeful gaze upon him, “I do not believe he deserves you, but if he truly makes you happy, who am I to stand in your way? I will not hinder you anymore.” You processed her father’s words. “Do you truly mean it?” You asked, voice thick with emotion, “I do,” he sighed and kissed the top of your head. You smiled widely as heaviness in your heart faded with the blessing of your father was finally bestowed upon you and your husband.
Other fics in this universe: Mine (part 2) and King of My Heart (Part 3)
#aemond fanfiction#house of the dragon#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#hotd aemond#aemond modern au#prince aemond#aemond x niece!reader#prince aemond x reader#prince aemond fic#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond x you#daemon targaryen#hotd daemon#hotd fandom#taylor swift#the tortured poets department#but daddy i love him#ttpd
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I love older men and I love fictional men you put them together……
#daddy issues#don’t look at me like that#if you’re seeing this you probably do too#Joel miller x reader#bucky barnes x reader#frank castle x reader#tony stark x reader#matt murdock x reader#obi wan kenobi x reader#han solo x reader#daemon targeryen x reader#jim hopper x reader#aaron hotch x reader#carlisle cullen x reader
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Armor is nice and all but this makes me feel feral. It's giving "I'll go check up on that noise my wife heard while sleeping"
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When Rhaenyra heard of her son’s death she collapsed, until a raven arrived from her husband Daemon, “Our son would be avenged”
#hotd#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen#hotd spoilers#hotd edit#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon x rhaenyra#daemon x laena#laena velaryon#baela targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#matt smith#daemyra#HIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT#from child hater to DADDY#the dad that STEPped up lol#edits#gifs#mine#daemon#HIS MALEWIFE PEAK
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Little Bride
daemon x niece!reader smut
A/N: based on a request here! also i don't understand high valyrian conjugation so kepa just means father in every time it's used
TW: smut!!, incest, DUBCON, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, spanking, exhibitionism because of under the table shenanigans
word count: 1,563 words
You haven’t seen Daemon since you were seven years old and you’ve missed him deeply. Everyone says that he hates Alicent Hightower’s children but he always said you had the true blood of the dragon running in your veins. You were always his favourite but it’s been over a decade since his latest exile and you most definitely aren’t a little girl anymore.
“Zaldrīzes riña.” (dragon girl) You hear from behind you as you make your way to your chambers. Only one person calls you that.
“Kepus?” You say as you turn around and squeal when you lay eyes on him. You run down the hallway and throw your arms around his shoulders before blushing when you realize how unladylike your actions are. You slowly remove yourself from him. “Sorry.” You say timidly. He laughs.
“Don’t be. I don’t remember the last time someone was so thrilled to see me.” His eyes take in the sight of you but you don’t notice the predatory nature of his gaze. “You’ve grown, little girl.”
“That’s what happens when you are away for so long.” You say petulantly. He chuckles and looks over you. His eyes fixate on the swell of your breasts. He seems like he may say something when he’s interrupted.
“Should you not be preparing for supper, daughter?” The voice of the Queen rings out as she shoots the filthiest glare at your uncle. Your mother hates Daemon.
“Of course, your Grace.” You say and curtsey before running off, shooting your uncle a passing smile.
“I'll see you at supper then, zaldrīzes riña.” Daemon calls out after you. He looks to your mother. “Hello, Alicent. You’re looking well.” He says with a wolfish grin and makes himself busy with greeting another noble before the Queen can retort.
~~~
When you arrive to the family dinner that night, Daemon has saved a spot next to him for you, much to your mothers dismay. You take it eagerly.
“Glad to have you home, brother.” The King says as he raises his cup and you all follow in suit, toasting to Daemon’s return.
The room falls into steady conversation, steady enough for people to not notice when
Daemon whispers things in your ear that make you blush.
“This is a very pretty dress, niece.” He says as he plays with the collar of the gown. His hand begins to trail down it. “Very expensive fabric.” The roaming hand decides on its destination being your upper thigh.
“T-Thank you.” You say with a light smile as he turns his attention elsewhere, talking to your father about things that you don’t understand.
After a few moments, the hand on your thigh begins to move. You sigh in relief, hoping he will take it off and relieve you of the warm feeling in your tummy but that isn’t what happens. Your uncle’s hand moves discreetly to the hem of your skirts, and to your dismay, he begins to lift them. You give him a pleading and confused look, not really sure what’s happening but he doesn’t even look at you as he seems to be fully focused on his conversation with your father.
You take a sip of wine, trying to distract yourself, but it only causes you to choke as you feel his fingers ghost over your smallclothes.
“Are you alright?” Daemon says in a faux-concerned tone as you cough. You only manage to nod in response before he goes back to ignoring you.
He slips his fingers to the side of your undergarments and pushes them to the side so he can feel how wet you are. You could swear you see a slight smile twinge at his lips. You try not to look at him, or anybody, as you feel his two fingers slip inside of you. You hope you don’t give anything away with your face as you reach down to clutch his hand, trying to pull it away, to make him stop, but it’s to no avail. Your attempts are almost pathetic with how little they do to faze him.
The whole scene of it is filthy, Daemon talking politics with his brother as his fingers pump in and out of his virgin niece’s soaked cunny right next to him, her father right across the table from the two of them. One look at the princesses face could have them both found out as she tries not to squirm in her seat.
You feel yourself edging closer to your peak but it never comes. You’re humiliated by the whole act of it but you feel needy for him when he pulls his hand away. You hold in a visible reaction even though it seems that Daemon wouldn’t know the difference as he acts like he never even touched you.
For the rest of dinner, you’re unfocused. Aemond tries to make conversation with you but you can’t do much more than nod and give short answers. You’re very much in disbelief that you hardly realize when supper has ended. Your brothers and sister leave quickly. Your mother left early with your father because of his sickness. You’re left alone with your dear uncle and some servants.
“Leave us.” Daemon says and the servants scurry out of the room.
Your uncle stalks over to you and you keep inching away until you hit the table. He towers over you. You still feel like a child next to him.
“Kepus.” You try to speak sternly. “What you did was wrong and you shall not do anything like it again.”
“If it was wrong then why did you like it so much?” He looks you in the eyes as he grabs your chin and tilts it up.
“It was terribly improper.”
“Hmm. I think you liked the attention. Daddy never gives you any, does he? And mommy is too focused on her problem child.” He says condescendingly.
The hand that doesn’t hold your chin goes to your waist. He traces up and down… the curve of your hips… of your breasts.
“I’m a princess. I get more than enough attention.” You say petulantly but your voice wavers.
“Then why haven’t you pushed me off?” He asks and you immediately try to push him away… pathetically. It’s little effort for him to turn you around and bend you over the table with your hands pinned behind you. “Dumb girl. Look at your trying to put up a fight. It’s not nice to deny kepa.” Kepa, he says, not kepus.
“Get off of me!” You try to squirm under his grasp.
“What happened to the girl a few hours ago who was so excited to see me?” He teases as he begins to use one hand to hike up your skirts.
“Kepa-... kepus, stop now!” You cringe when you call him the name he just referred to himself as.
“Aww so you like calling me that. You want daddy to take care of you.” He gets your skirts to your waist and you feel the cold air when he tugs your smallclothes.
“No, kepusss.” You whine at him and squeal when his hand slaps your ass.
“That’s not what you’re meant to call me, baby. And you need to be quiet, don’t want the guards outside to hear when i’m pounding the little princesses cunny, do we?”
“But… kepa i-i’m meant to save myself for my husband.” You say when you feel something long and hard rubbing between your thighs. His hand snakes around and he shoves two fingers in your mouth.
“Good, then i’ll get to bloody my cock with your maidenhead.” He says simply before shoving himself inside, the fingers in your mouth barely muting your scream. “That’s it, just take it and suck on kepa’s fingers like a little baby.” He says as he keeps bullying his cock inside of you. “Gods, you’re so fucking tight.” He lays another smack on your ass. “I’m gonna put a baby in you, make you mine.”
“Mmm.” You moan around his fingers, starting to realize that you enjoy the treatment once the pain has somewhat faded. He fucks into you as hard as he can, making you see stars.
“I’ll make you my wife and i’ll eat this little cunny every night, have you screaming and begging for me as you cry.” His hands grip your hips roughly and you can feel the formation of bruises coming on. He lets go only for a second so he can spank your ass a few more times because he just loves how you whimper.
You feel him finally start to slow and the deep, lasting thrusts are what sends you over the edge. You have never came so hard as you squeeze around him and feel yourself tense up. He fucks you through your high before spilling his seed deep inside you.
“Fuck.” He says as he takes his fingers out of your mouth.
You still feel molded to the shape of his cock even once he’s pulled himself out.
He wipes your drool away in an almost loving way and then helps you turn around so you can sit on the table. He situates himself between your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did so well, zaldrīzes riña.” He presses a few more kisses to your face and you blush at the tender action. “You’ll make a perfect bride.”
taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy
#daemon smut#daemon#daemon targaryen#daddy daemon#daemon targaryen smut#hotd#hotd smut#daemon x reader#daemon x you
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Am I the only one with these pictures living rent-free in my head?
#Matt Smith#Daemon Targaryen#daddy daemon#Daddy Uncle Daemon#HOTD#HOTD Daemon#hotd#house of the dragon#a song of ice and fire#daemon targaryen#house targaryen#game of thrones#daemon x reader#prince daemon targaryen#house of the dragon season 2#fire and blood
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Stern dad Daemon stopping Jace with a sharp word and standing between Aemond and his family, practically daring the one-eyed bitch to say something, is my ENTIRE sexuality.
And Daemon's smirk when Aemond backed down?? Like how am I supposed to not fall in love???
#yes daddy whatever you want#daemon targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#rhaenyra targaryen#aemond one eye#daemon x rhaenyra#matt smith#precious baby boiii i love you so much
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Daddy Daemon with his rainbow baby, the son he long awaited and his heir and legacy, baby Aegon, our future king! Daemon waited a long time but in the end it was worth it as he couldn't have asked for better sons than Aegon and Viserys 🤧
PD: I had to include stormy in the image 😂, and yes in my headcanon the three-headed dragon necklace belonged to Daemon and he gave it to Aegon. In the future I will also do some drawings with Viserys!
Have a good night 😴🩷
#aegon iii targaryen#daemon targeryan#the rogue prince#fire and blood#asoiaf#house targaryen#valyrianscrolls#daddy daemon and his baby boy#stormcloud#father and son
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Caught - Daemon x fem reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, praise k!nk, kinda rough sex, graphic language, cockwarming, unprotected p in v sex, Daddy!Daemon
Summary: PWP literally just 3.1k of smut. Daddy!Daemon caught you up to no good and has to remind you of the rules. a/n: this is technically modern au Daemon. Short hair, modern setting, and modern language, the language gave me a bit more freedom than usual.
You froze as Daemon entered the room. His eyes flew from your surprised face to your hands between your thighs. You started to giggle with embarrassment until you saw his brow furrow. The smile fell from your lips. You weren’t sure if you should pull your fingers out of your dripping cunt or not so you lay still as he walked to the bed.
He watched you closely as he walked across the room. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. Already his cock had begun to ache seeing you naked on the bed, pleasuring yourself. However, there was an underlying emotion that amplified that ache. He needed to correct you. Your inability to keep your hands off yourself was sexy, but it made him almost seethe with envy. He had told you before and you had agreed, you would always wait for him.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he sat down on the side of the bed, one eyebrow cocked. You didn’t move your hands but squeezed your thighs closed. Daemon slowly reached one hand to press against your knee, opening your legs. You let him. When he slid his hand down the inside of your thigh you whimpered. Gently, he pulled first one of your hands, then the other away from your cunt. The sound your fingers made sliding out of you was almost embarrassing.
“Gods you are so wet, little one.” Daemon frowned. “Were you close?” His eyes flicked up to yours.
You nodded silently.
“Hmmm,” he mused. Then he gently clasped your wrist and raised your hand to his face. He breathed in deeply before sucking your fingers clean. You moaned and bit your bottom lip to quiet yourself.
“We talked about this,” he began. He laid your hand on the bed and stroked your thigh. “We talked about what would happen if you did this without Daddy?”
“Yes, but,” you started to explain.
“No,” he stated flatly. You tried not to grin. You loved it when he got this look in his eye. He looked possessive, jealous even, but not angry. His eyes narrowed.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. So how do I teach you this lesson so you will remember, hmm?” You knew it was a rhetorical question. Daemon stood up, slid his tie out of his collar, and walked to his desk. You watched, motionless, as he shuffled papers and books, silenced his phone, tossed his tie over the back of the chair, and finally sat down.
You subconsciously licked your lips as Daemon’s hands went to his zipper. He unfastened his pants and freed his cock. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but every part of your body tingled when you saw it. It was thick and gorgeous and you thought you could see the faintest pearl of precum leaking from the tip. He stroked slowly, watching himself, ignoring you. It felt as if minutes turned into hours before he looked up at you. He almost grinned at the lascivious expression on your face. He paused and you couldn’t help but stare at his twitching cock.
“Come here,” Daemon said. You rose form the bed, legs shaking, and you felt heat rush to your core. Walking toward him naked was exhilarating. Daemon patted his thighs as you approached. It was patronizing, but it made you smile nonetheless. You eyed his lap briefly and tried to guess the position he wanted you in. You began to move forward, but he saw the perplexed look on your face and caught your hips in his hands. He positioned you where he wanted you. His strong hands gently guided you through the awkward motion of sitting on his lap with your back to his chest. His hold on your hips made you feel a bit more stable during the wobbly affair. Then, very quietly, he whispered in your ear.
“You’re going to keep my cock warm, little one. You’re going to be as still as a statue and as quiet as a mouse. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” you answered and swallowed dryly.
“Now, lift that lovely ass,” he said with a smile in his voice. Pressing down on the arms of the chair, your feet pressed on top of his shoes for leverage, you raised up as far as you could. His hand slipped under your ass and through your wetness. You gasped and your thighs shook. His fingers were gone almost immediately. You heard him stroke his cock and then you felt him at your entrance. Slowly you began to lower yourself, with his hands guiding you again. Your body felt like it had been struck by lightening and your head spun with excitement. This was a punishment? You exhaled as you settled into Daemon’s lap, his cock fully buried inside you.
“Comfortable?” he asked. You nodded trying to move only your head. Your arms and legs felt stiff. Frankly, you were still concerned with falling off. You giggled before you realized you were going to. Your hand flew to your mouth and you did wobble. Daemon held you steady and laughed under his breath.
Finally, he pulled you toward him, your back pressed against his chest and you felt yourself begin to relax. Your hands fell from the arms of the chair to rest on your thighs. You let your feet slide off his shoes, allowing him to support you completely. This also made his cock go the slightest bit deeper. You whimpered and tried to adjust your hips. His fingers dug into them, stopping you. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, leaning back against Daemon’s chest. Every breath, every movement was bliss. As he settled, his cock moved inside you. As he breathed, you moved up and down with his chest. Each small movement echoed in your cunt. You thought if being this connected to him were punishment you could get into “trouble” more often.
“Hand those to me.” Daemon startled you when he spoke. You blinked and failed to understand for a moment. Then you leaned forward for the papers and gasped. Gingerly you handed them to Daemon. You shifted to the side slightly and tried to rest against him again. But the movement caused you to clench and Daemon hissed air through his teeth. You grimaced a little as you began to understand… a bit like trying to balance on one foot and not fall, you weren’t sure how long you could do this. To your amazement, however, Daemon began to read as if you weren’t there. You clenched around his cock involuntarily. He was distracting himself and you were what? Not supposed to think about how good it felt to be so deeply connected to him? Every time you thought of it you twitched or tensed up. You crossed your arms across your breasts and huffed. You couldn’t lay your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t wiggle, you could only sit.
“Yes?” Daemon asked.
“Well,” you thought for a moment. “What am I supposed to do?” You heard the whine in your voice and cringed. You tightened your arms across your chest.
“Think about your actions,” Daemon chuckled as he spoke and resumed reading. His laugh was infuriating. You could have screamed, but more than that you wanted to rock your hips. You needed to hear him moan and say your name. Instead you pouted. Trying not to think about your wetness dripping down around his cock, soaking his pants, you exhaled. When you turned your head to look at Daemon he was actually reading! You smirked as you wiggled your ass slightly and he didn’t even glance up. You turned your attention to the room, looking for anything to distract you. But the harder you tried to not think about his cock the larger it seemed to grow in your thoughts. You shifted a few times, tried to alleviate the constant, aching need but nothing worked. The next ten minutes were agonizing. It could have been 30 minutes for all you knew. This frustrating pleasure made it impossible for you to judge.
When Daemon finally lowered his papers, your head felt foggy with arousal. You blinked trying to clear the cobwebs from your mind. He slowly began to lean forward and you steadied yourself by gripping his thighs. He snaked one hand around your side to your belly to hold you still and tossed the the documents onto the desk. They slid and nearly scattered, but Daemon didn’t seem to care. He ran his hand along the top of your thigh. His fingertips came precariously close to your lips and you jumped. He chuckled that low, infuriating laugh again.
“How do you feel, baby girl? Do you think you can remember our rules now?” His hand continued traveling up your body until he was cupping your breast. He languidly passed his thumb over your nipple. The new sensation felt so good that it was almost painful. It jolted you out of your haze.
“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled. “I will remember. But please, Daemon.” You didn’t expect to beg. “Please.” Your cunt tightened around him as you spoke.
“Soon,” he whispered. “Soon.” There was a slight tone of pride in his voice. You weren’t sure how you knew that from one word but you couldn't think about it for long. His hand on your belly began to slide down. Two of his fingers brushed the top of your cleft and you bucked your hips. You tried, at least. His hand held you quite still. But your movement had elicited a small hmm from him. That sound produced a fresh wave of wetness to flood your aching cunt.
“You did so well,” he spoke near your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “You kept my cock perfectly warm. Do you want your reward?”
“Yes, please,” you whined again. You fisted your hands into the fabric of his pants. Simultaneously impatient and anxious, you had rarely been this overstimulated.
“Are you going to be a good girl from now on?” Daemon smirked. He was dragging it out, still enjoying your blissful distress.
“Oh yes, god yes!” You tried to move your hips again and this time he let you. Only he followed the movement with his hand and slid two fingers over your clit. You let out a groan that sounded as if it came from someone else. You clamped your teeth down on the sound as Daemon circled your clit with his fingertips.
“Damn,” he mumbled under his breath. “That’s it, baby girl.” You were moving your hips slightly, clutching and unclutching his pants with the same rhythm. It was slow and almost imperceptible. Daemon kissed your shoulder, squeezed your breast, then rested his forehead in the curve of your neck, never stopping the motion of his fingers. You felt the familiar coiling in your core, the signal of the beginning of your orgasm, and reached your hand behind you to slide your fingers into Daemon’s hair. You riffled through his short hair and pressed him harder against you. He groaned and nuzzled deeper into your neck. His cock seemed to throb inside you. The sensations were overwhelming. You raked your nails across his scalp and breathed out his name. Without warning, he stopped and pulled his fingers away. You arched your back trying to chase them. He straightened and shook your hand from his head.
He moved both hands to your hips and dug his fingers into your flesh. He began to guide you to lift your hips but you shook your head “no.” He ignored this protest and start to move you himself. You felt dizzy, off balance, and you wanted nothing more than for his cock to stay exactly where it was. But you realized this would be easier and faster if you worked with him. Begrudgingly and gingerly, you placed your hands on the arms of the chair once more. The feeling of separation was immediate and intense. You squeezed your eyes shut. Daemon, thankfully, still held your hips as you tried to stand on legs that should not have been so shaky.
As Daemon began to lean forward you swayed and reached out to steady yourself on the desk. You felt him shift behind you and his legs pressed yours wider. He still held you by your hips but he leaned forward and kissed your lower back. He trailed kisses down to the top of your ass. You let out a small moan as he kissed the dimples at the base of your spine and then he sighed. His breath on your ass made you squirm. Every sensation was like a shock to your brain.
In one swift movement, Daemon stood behind you. He pressed you forward slightly but didn’t let go of you until your hands were firmly planted on the desk. You were almost bent over completely, arms laying on the desktop. Daemon smoothed a hand up your back, signaling you to lean further forward. You did so, forehead nearly resting on the surface. You heard him unbuckling his belt and sliding fabric against skin. Your cunt clenched on nothing purely from anticipation. He nudged your feet further apart with the toe of his shoe. You gasped as he slid his fingers through your slick, messy cunt. He drug them slowly back over your clit, all the way back to your ass and then pulled his hand away. You pressed your hips back toward him, begging without words.
“You want my cock back in that needy little hole?” He growled the question as he stroked his cock once, twice, then positioned himself between your thighs. “Well?”
“Yes,” you tried to answer but it came out in a croak. You mouth was a desert. You cleared your throat. “Yes, Daddy.”
He hummed a short approval as he rested his hands on your ass. His cock began to slide inside you so slowly that you could barely breathe. You resisted the urge to push back toward him with every ounce of your will power. Daemon moved forward slightly but also used his thumbs to hold your ass cheeks apart. The thought of him watching his cock slide into you, imagining the way his bottom lip would be caught between his teeth, forced you to finally collapse onto the desk.
“Please,” you started. “Fuck, Daemon, please, I can’t.” Your pleading sped him up, but only slightly. The only thing that stopped you from doing it yourself, pressing your hips back into his, was the delicious sound he was making. It was a throaty hum mixed with a sucking of air through his teeth. When he was finally balls deep inside you again, he moved his hands forward, onto your hips again.
“You feel so good,” he said under his breath. The words made you squirm against him and clench around him. He began long, slow strokes that drove you crazy, gradually picking up speed. Each thrust pushed you forward until your breasts were pressed against the papers on the desk. You barely held yourself upright, your legs felt as if they would give up at any moment. You were unsure if there were words in the incoherent moaning coming from your mouth as Daemon seemed to drag out each stroke.
“That’s my girl,” he said with a hard thrust. Then he started to move faster, his strokes growing shorter. You felt one of his hands slide forward and tensed around him in anticipation. He let out a breathy fuck as he pushed through the tightening of your muscles. When his fingers grazed your clit you bucked away from his hand. His fingers found you regardless.
“You can take it. You have to if you want to come,” he said icily. You whimpered as he stroked your clit in time with the thrusts of his cock. “I want you to cum on my cock like the good slut I know you are.”
His voice, his words, flipped a switch inside you. The coiled, aching tightness in your core released. Waves of pleasure emanated from your cunt. Your limbs felt cold and heavy but you barely noticed.
“Fuck.” You panted and moaned, pressing the side of your face onto the desk. “Yes, Daddy. Oh fuck yes.” You words trailed off into mumbled pleading and sounds of agreement. His fingers continued their movement and your hips jerked with each pass. You were too cock drunk to beg him to stop. Your orgasm didn’t crest and break but stayed in this tight, hot moment until you thought you might pass out.
“You can have your reward now, baby girl,” Daemon punctuated each word with a thrust as he began to pound into you. You no longer moaned, no longer made any sound. Your breathing was shallow and harsh. You reached your hands out to find purchase, to brace yourself and only succeeded in knocking things off the desk. Daemon increased the pressure on your clit and you came undone. You closed your eyes and cried out his name. Begging, pleading, but not for him to stop. You begged for his cum and he gave you what you needed. He moved his hand from between your legs. He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed into you one final time. His cum was a warm rush between you. He ground his hips against your ass. He groaned and relaxed his grip on your neck.
Daemon leaned forward, out of breath, and kissed your shoulder. He stroked your shoulder blade, your side, and slid his hand under your stomach. You were barely able to follow his lead. The pressure of his hand guided you to prop yourself up on the desk. You huffed out a small chuckle at your predicament. Before you were entirely prepared, he pulled back slowly. Your eyelids fluttered when his cock left you. The feeling of what he left behind was divine. You tried to catch your breath.
You felt his hand on you, resting on your side. You straightened up as he began to turn you toward him. He caught your mouth with his before you could face him. He petted and stroked, one hand on your side, pressing you into him, one hand on your stomach and hips. He pulled back and looked into your eyes. The corner of his mouth turned up and the pride you saw in his face made your chest feel as if it would burst. He barely took his hands off of you as he sat down, keeping you on your feet. Then he helped you onto his lap once more. Sitting across his lap, you curled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You inhaled the smell of his shirt and became dimly aware that he had somehow not taken it off. You smiled and closed your eyes as he kissed the top of your head.
Masterlist
Daemon masterlist
#first try at modern au for hotd#daddy!daemon#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon x fem!reader#daemon x you#x you#x reader#x fem reader#daemon fic#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen x you#daemon targaryen x fem reader
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house of the dragon is asking me to pick between the dark haired heart of gold himbo and the snarky morally ambiguous platinum blonde like those aren’t my two absolute favorite tropes in the world and i’m afraid that choosing between them simply cannot be done
#house of the dragon#hotd spoilers#daemon targaryen#harwin strong#daemyra#rhaenyra targaryen#thank god they are both her baby daddy’s
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❤For Your Eyes Only❤
Email 1: "Don't be ridiculous, Daddy. Give them your card." | Masterlist
CC: [email protected]; [email protected]; @pinksirensong; @aralezinspace; @sloanexx; @deniixlovezelda; @targaryenmoony; @risefallrise; @slavyanskiyahui;
🔪DO NOT OPEN THIS EMAIL ON YOUR WORK COMPUTER🔪
Dear Aemma,
Daemon just called me poor for wearing jeans and a t-shirt outside. AND I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO SAY, little miss allergic-to-low-quality-fabric, but damn, I was going to the SUPERMARKET!
With Love ❤
Daemon Targaryen x Reader
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: Fem!reader, sugar daddy themes, smut (man handling, choking, degradation kink, humiliation kink, vaginal penetration, hair pulling, fingering), elitism/classism, fashion police!Daemon, Daemon 'im too rich to be working in the office' Targaryen, fluff, slice of life, typos, etc.
<Some Wednesday Morning; It's Really Fuckin Hot>
"Daemon, you need something?"
Daemon turns from the computer on his desk to over his shoulder. His face contorts as he looks me up and down, "what are you wearing?"
He swivels on his office chair as I walk up to the counter behind him to get my keys, "I'm going to the supermarket."
"No," he furrows his brows, "I asked what are you wearing."
I stop in my tracks, looking at him as his lips curl in disgust. I make a face and shrug, "jeans and a shirt."
"That you slept in," his forehead wrinkles. I look to, yes, the shirt I wore last night as he digs his heels into the floor, rolling his chair towards me. Once he is in front of me, he grabs my left thigh and squeezes it.
"I took a shower last night," I raise a brow as he rubs my denim clad flesh. I brush his silver blonde hair back, "in case you've forgotten, you were there."
His hands dig into my waistband, fingers fidgeting with the button.
"Daemon-"
"You have to change," he mutters, looking up at me with his violet eyes.
I raise a brow, "change huh?"
I push him off when he undoes my button and fly. His chair rolls back slightly. He repels the motion by tugging himself forward by my leg. His chair rolls forward. He bites my hips through my clothes.
"Daemon, later."
He hums and lifts my shirt to bite my skin. I grunt at the feel of his teeth. He mumbles hotly against me, "I'm serious about you changing though." Daemon leans on his back rest, hands still on my thigh. He rubs me up and down, "this is a crime against humanity."
I roll my eyes.
"You look like you can't afford convenience store snacks."
I scoff, "WOW."
He shakes his head in disdain, "you look like you work for minimum wage."
"FIRST OF ALL," I shriek in annoyance, "who are the fucks that refuse to increase wages so that people like us can actually look nicer?"
Daemon narrows his brows, "I don't employ minimum wage workers."
"You mean you don't give a shit," I swat him off.
He releases me and sighs. He waves his hands around, "what's with the people like us business?"
Daemon waits for me to respond but I don't.
"You're mine," he points, "you're my person. There are no other people like you."
I snort and roll my eyes yet again. Regretfully though, could not hold back the chuckle that leaves me.
Daemon smirks, utterly pleased with himself, which was why he rolls back to this desk without a care, not that he ever actually cared, "go change."
I look at him and knit my brows, "you can't be serious."
"Oh, I'm serious," he turns to me, "I don't need to see another photograph of you online looking like a homeless person."
Sigh. The repercussions of dating a nepo baby.
"Daemon, the paparazzi don't take photos of me if you're not there."
He hums as he turns back to his PC and moves his mouse around, mumbling under his breath, "tell that to the journalists blackmailing me with pictures of you."
I freeze. Blackmailing? "What?"
Daemon's clicking stops. He stills then slowly turns to me.
"W-what kind of pictures-"
"Just ugly ones where you look homeless," he leans back with a stoic face.
I am rigid in my spot.
He sighs then stands. He wraps his arms around me from behind. He leans down to kiss my neck and squeezes me tightly, "it's nothing compromising," he brushes my hair back, "they just want to extort as much money as they can from me by captioning your pictures with bullshit about how badly you dress as the lover of some old money dickhead."
I release a breath. He brushes his nose against my cheek. I turn to him and give him a look, "I'm just going to the supermarket."
"I know," he purses his lips, "but I bought you all those dresses to wear, not to store."
I raise a brow, "you want me to wear designer dresses to the supermarket?"
He lets me turn to face him as he licks his lips, "no, I want you to wear designer dresses everywhere."
"Pfft," I blow a raspberry, "even at home?"
"Especially at home," he nips at my lips, making me squeak and pull away. Daemon grins as his hands scour down my body. He squeezes me tightly as he says, "wanna see your pretty arse in the shit I buy."
I roll my eyes exaggeratedly as he chuckles like a cheeky school boy.
"Don't roll your eyes at me," he holds back his smile, "my man brain likes to see my woman in the clothes I picked out for her."
I press my lips together, fighting my own smile back, "ah... you picked them out, huh? You didn't just buy the first thing you saw and asked for it in my size?"
"What does it matter if it was the first thing I saw?" he looks down at my breasts and begins to massage them, "I still picked it."
I sigh but break into laugh. I swat him off and turn back, "fine," I walk away, "if you're so repulsed by jeans, then I'll change, your highness."
Daemon bites his lip and slaps my ass, prompting him to shoot him a dirty look, "unfortunately, my dear, you've got me so pussy drunk-"
I groan at his crassness.
"-I'd find you attractive even if you were covered in shit."
"Nah," I wave a hand, "you're just a kinky troll."
He laughs.
<Some Other Wednesday Morning; It's Still Really Fuckin Hot>
I rub my wrists together, spreading the perfume, as I walk out of my bedroom and head to the living room. I find Daemon's bored and hardened face staring blankly at his computer screen.
I snort at his clenched jaw and crossed arms. The clicking sound of my pumps reverberate in the silent room as I head over to him.
Before I reach his desk, he turns to me and immediately perks.
I smile at him as he straightens up in his chair; his hands move to his armrest. Knowing he was in the middle of an online meeting, I point to the door and mouth, 'I'm going out'.
He turns to his computer screen once then back to me, raising a hand. I shift on my spot, placing a hand on my hip as I watch him type away on his keyboard.
Two clicks later, he stands and rips out the wireless earphones from his ears. He places them on his desk and walks over to me.
I raise a brow and bring my arms to the side, "meeting's done?"
"No," he huffs, grabbing my arm, "but I sure did want an excuse to leave that fucking meeting."
Daemon pulls me into his chest and rubs my sides. The silk of my dress is smooth to the touch and it makes him smirk, "don't remember buying this for my pretty fucktoy."
I grunt then sneer at him, grabbing his jaw with my manicured nails, "that's because I bought it for myself."
Daemon smirks at that and bites at my hand, prompting me to pull away.
"Yuck," I say flatly as I wipe his saliva on his shoulder.
He steps back and brushes his hands down my bare arms. He brings one hand overhead and spins me around, eyes raking my body intently. He hisses as the skirt flares as I twirl, a teasing glimpse of my stockings-clad thighs eliciting it. Daemon pulls me back into his chest, hand on the small of my back as he nods, "very good."
I smile back at him, "well, I have good taste."
Daemon's lip curve and his eyes narrow. He fiddles with the thin chain necklace on my neck, one of the many he's gotten me, "and how much was this dress, pretty girl?"
I purse my pink painted lips. I fawn naivete, "pretty girls don't look at prices, daddy."
He chuckles deeply and grits his teeth, one hand coming to my hair, pulling my head back slowly, "daddy's card is not a toy, cupcake," he nuzzles into the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent. I knew how much he loved the smell of the perfume on me.
I whimper as I wrap my arms around him for support as he pushes me back. I let out a soft sigh when he bites down on my skin. Still, I manage to retort, "but you like it when I play with you."
His hot breath tickles me as he chuckles, "byka rene," little slut.
Daemon pulls back, a smirk playing on his lips as he says, "you're right. I like it when my stupid whore taunts me so I can make her cry."
My stomach rolls when he begins to bunch up my skirt in his hands.
"Tell me," he knits his brows, pretending to be serious, "where are you going again, dressed up like a perfect little slut?"
He digs his hands into the waistband of my stockings and yanks then down, "mmm, to pick up that shit from your parents."
I release a breath as his hands circle around my hips beneath my dress.
He raises his brows.
I place my hands on his shoulders, "t-the mall."
I simultaneously shudder and yelp as he thoughtlessly pushes me aside like a ragdoll and releases me in front of his desk. My heels skid on the floor and I nearly trip on my feet. Thankfully, I crash into his table and my hands on the surface keep me upright.
Daemon rips my stockings down to my ankles then turns me over. My hands dart to his chest and I push him back back with a grunt, successfully evading his kiss. He tenses with confusion.
"Please, don't ruin my makeup," I shake my head, "I spent hours on it. Don't wanna do it all over again."
He pulls his head back in evident offence and chuckles dryly, jaw slacking, brows raising.
I feel my lungs constrict as his hold tightens on my airways. He roughly begins to rip at my clothing.
I yelp when he flips me back over and shoves me forward. I hit his PC and his keyboard which knocks into the mouse, making it fall off the desk. My breathing strains when he pulls me back with a hand to my throat. He huffs hotly against my ear, "you think a brat like you can act out and get her way, mmm?"
"Please don't, please, please, please, please-" I trail off, using the last remaining breath I had to convince him. Soon, I begin to feel lightheaded that I have to dig into his clutch.
I catch my breath when Daemon finally loosens his grip and rips my panties down.
"Please, please, please Daemon. I really don't wanna-"
I continue my desperate pleas as his hand finds my slickened folds, fingers firmly rubbing the area. My body reacts instantly to his familiar touch.
"Enough," he barks, hand ripping away from my core to slap my ass. He releases my neck and shoves me forward. My abdomen roughly collides with the edge of the desk, even though my hands took in a great force of his blow.
"Spoiled bitch," he mutters under his breath as he frees himself from his pants.
I make a sound when he grabs my hips and begins to carelessly pound into me, intent on making a point with his roughness.
I whimper when he pulls my hair back; my hand comes to his wrist on instinct. Daemon grunts and he pants into my ear, "with all the fucking money you spend on makeup," thrust, thrust, thrust, "it should at least be able to withstand a good fuck, don't you think?"
"D-Da-"
"I'm not done speaking, brat," he cuts me off by pulling my hair.
I feel my eyes begin to water at his apathy and brutish movements. Yet, at the same time, I feel my thighs quiver with welcomed electricity.
He hums, "should I take it out on your skanky dress if I can't ruin your lipstick?"
My lips quiver, "p-please don't."
"Say something?" he mocks.
"Daemon, please."
"Louder."
"Please don't, Daemon."
He releases my hair. I lean forward on my hands. His finger dig into my my hips, "beg."
I huff as my toes curl in my heels, "please, Daemon."
"I can't he-"
"PLEASE."
He huffs.
I squeal when he touches my clit. "And what exactly are you begging for?"
"W-wanna... wanna come."
I let out a sound at one of his particularly rough thrusts.
"Greedy whore," he groans, "such a taker. Are you a gold digger?"
My body feels heavy with his ministrations on my clit. I catch my breath as I feel my imminent high build.
Daemon's hand rubs up my to my breasts, which he then squeezes. He leans into my shoulder, "I asked you a question, sweetheart," he kisses my skin, "are you gold digger?"
I huff through my nose and gulp, "n-no."
"Wrong," his hands go to my hips again, "you are a gold digger. Now say it or I'll come on your dress."
"I'm- I'm a-"
Before I can finish my thought, my knees buckle and I come undone against him. I feel myself clench around him, and he in turn takes a hand to my neck and rips me back against him. I let out a sound as my belly tightens and flutters.
"Well?" he asks impatiently as I whine.
He nips at my ear, "good girl."
"Mm- m'a go'digger- ma gol' d--"
With that, Daemon releases a lewd sound against my neck as he spasms against me. I squeal as I feel his heat spill into me and my thighs begin to shake.
Once we've both calmed down, I hear Daemon gulp as he catches his breath and pulls out of me.
I whine as he does this, leaning into his desk. He carelessly walks back to his computer and tucks himself in his pants, plopping down on his office chair.
I give him a look as he smirks at me and mutters, "makeup still looking good, babe."
I feel a wetness drip down the side of my thighs as I straighten up. I huff and gather my skirt as I bend down and pull my stockings up so I could actually walk off.
Daemon watches as I waddle away, "you're dripping you know."
"Yes, thank you," I quip dryly.
He smirks and leans back on his chair, "that good, aye?"
"Shut the fuck up."
He chuckles as he picks up his mouse, "fucking make me."
#for your eyes only#daemon targaryen smut#daemon smut#hotd smut#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#daemon#daemon targaryen x you#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd fanfic#daemon angst#daemon targaryen angst#daemon fluff#daemon targaryen fluff#daemon au#modern!daemon#hotd au#hotd modern au#sugar daddy!daemon
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Next episode preview:
#𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 🖤🐉
By the way, I haven’t watched episode 6 because it wasn’t released yet in my country.
#house of the dragon#hotd#daemyra#daemon x rhaenyra#rhaenyra x daemon#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targeryan#corlys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon#lucerys velaryon#daddy daemon#mommy rhaenyra#notice that there's no scene of their wedding in the preview#ok... i'm gonna wait for episode 6 now
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ㅤCatch me if you can, working on my tan, Salvatore.
The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you, all this time, I adore you, can't you see you’re meant for me?
∴pairing: Sugar Daddy!Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
∴warnings and notes: age gap, reader is 20+ but her age isn’t mencioned, smut. Inspired by Salvatore from Lana Del Rey.
The first time you saw him was at an exhibition at the Targaryen foundation, which depicted life in Old Valyria. He was magnetic, intense and almost too attractive. Truly inaccessible, you thought, however, life wanted to positively surprise you with the opposite of that. You weren't used to going to sophisticated places, although you were a girl with expensive and demanding tastes, so when your friend invited you to the event your heart almost jumped out of your mouth. It was so exciting to be among such a select few of New York's elite, you could almost relax for a moment. Almost.
Underneath the subtle makeup and cheap clothes — perfectly chosen for the occasion —you were scared. Not out of fear of discovering your humble nature, after all that never embarrassed you, but fear of rejection, of the superb and elitist look in your direction, fear of humiliation by unhappy and mean people. At the start of the exhibition your figure stood alongside your friend and her friend, Aegon Targaryen, a fully representative specimen of the rich fuckboy stereotype — at least he was funny. However, as the evening progressed and people became more relaxed, you assumed you could move around and mingle with less tension around people. You've talked to some of the Targaryen/Velaryon youths closer to your age. Two of them, Jacaerys and Daeron were genuinely adorable and even a little flirtatious, which made you slyly recoil upon realizing their interest.
In this way, finding yourself in a corridor away from the small crowd, you began to contemplate some paintings placed on the wall that didn’t belong to the exhibition. One of them caught your attention and captured you for a long time, it was a night city in a cyberpunk aesthetic in the shape of the upper part of a male silhouette. You've never seen anything like that.
"Do you like it?" A male voice asked very close to you, on your side actually.
And then he appeared. Tall, thin, short hair, with a discreet smile.
“Uh, I'm not a big art connoisseur, but I appreciate a beautiful painting,” you said.
“And what do you think of this one?”
You returned to contemplate the painting again, before replying: “I like the futuristic aesthetic. It's aggressive, rowdy and intimidating, it reminds me of works like Altered Carbon, it's chaotic and dark and I can't stop admiring it. I don't really know if it's futuristic at all, but it resembles me. I think it was my favorite so far.”
He didn't hide his satisfied expression upon hearing your opinion, looking away from his handsome face to the screen in question.
“The reference was a troubled phase of my youth, I spent nights awake in galleries in downtown New York, Chicago and Paris. It was more underground than it is today and I certainly have some scars, but nothing that time can put us back on track.”
His eyes sparkled in self-realization. That was not only the author of the painting, but he was also a Targaryen. How did you not notice before? The short gray hair and violet eyes were distinctive enough to give away a Valyrian for miles. Maybe it was some mechanism in your brain to avoid associating him with a descendant of the dragon and making you nervous again, but it didn't matter now, not when he was already beside you in that beige linen shirt with the long sleeves and collar and sophisticated posture.
“Daemon Targaryen,” he said, holding out his hand.
You introduced yourself with a shy smile, greeting him back. “Are these all yours? They are very good."
He didn't need to look at the other pictures in the hall to nod. “Only a few, most are in my gallery.”
“Oh,” was all you said. “How long have you been painting?”
“I like to say I was born with brushes for fingers,” he chuckled with a hint of smugness. “And as for you, what were you born to do?”
"I don't know. I never really knew. I like my field, although I haven't graduated yet, but I never had a big dream or talent for arts in general.”
The look he gave you was understanding, almost affectionate, nodding. You stayed the rest of the night together, and even though you hadn't lived a third of what he had told you, the oldest Targaryen didn't make light of your experiences and aspirations for the future, quite the contrary, he asked a lot about your tastes, your dreams, your preferences and desires. Even if you were apprehensive about being around the most charming man you'd ever seen, Daemon was good enough to break through your preoccupation and wrap you up in a spiral of seduction veiled in sophisticated words and good conversation. By the gods, how you longed for that night not to end and you had to return to your simple and unglamorous life, to your heavy routine of studies and tiredness with uninteresting boys unlike the handsome man at your side.
“You have a beautiful face, you know, I would love to have you in one of my paintings,” he said as he rested his glass of white wine on the shelf beside him, “and I can already imagine how.”
"How?" You smiled in ecstasy, especially when he moved a piece of your hair to your ear and caressed your face. Your heart froze a beat and your mouth parted, a part of the smile still visible. It seemed too unreal to be true, but you would never object to what was about to happen.
“I'd love to show you,” he said before cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that made you float. You grabbed the back of his neck to pull him closer and rose on tiptoe to reach him properly, only to find yourself deliciously pressed against the wall as he stole the breath from your lungs in the sexiest, most demanding way possible. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that your reality seemed fully magnified as he pulled back and stared into your face, still so close you could only get intoxicated on his expensive woody cologne. “Come to my apartment, I need you babygirl.”
Oh dear, an indecent sound nearly escaped your mouth at the nickname, your breathing turning into wheezes immediately. You've never been in a relationship with an older man, not for lack of interest, but there weren't any such attractive options close until tonight. It felt like a sensual dream, especially when he traced circular patterns on her neck with his thumb.
“Yes."
Daemon glared fiercely before pulling you gently around the waist and out of the room, opening the door for you to say goodbye to your friend and Aegon, hating the knowingly slutty look he directed at your figure. Your heart pounded with each traffic light the luxurious red convertible crossed, impressed by the ruby, blue and green lights that illuminated that part of town and even more by the large hand that was on your bare thigh. How you wished it would rise a little higher...
Luckily his dazzlingly modern apartment wasn't far away, with beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the sea of buildings and skyscrapers of the world's greatest metropolis. It was breathtaking. You couldn't help but walk to the center of the room, gently tapping the glass as a smile left your lips. "It's so beautiful."
“No more than you, I promise,” he whispered into your hair, next to your ear, sending shivers through the body. He curled one hand in front of your body, caging you between the glass as he brushed your hair away from your neck to sensually kiss your erogenous spot, making your eyes close and your hands rest on the glass. His vague hand ran over your waist and breasts, squeezing your flesh deliciously. “Have you been with a man before, babygirl? A real man, not these fuckers who don't know how to satisfy a girl properly.”
“No, I never have been,” you replied breathlessly, looking at him through the reflection.
“I will make sure you never forget this night.”
Daemon turned you around to kiss you, demanding to taste, lick, suck, and bite each of your mouths. He'd like to taste your sweet pussy right there, fucking your beautiful body against the glass, but he wanted more, so much more, he wanted to lay you on the bed while the blue light outside illuminated your body just like the painting he'd imagined. And so he did. He stripped you of your clothes before laying you on the white sheets, drinking in the masterful image before you. He leaned down to kiss and suck on your neck as he slid his hand down the length of your body to the wet spot between your legs, spreading your wetness with his fingers before massaging your clit incisively with the palm of his hand, making a long, breathy moan out of your throat as you held him from behind, desperate for more friction. He removed his hand from your legs to grab your breasts and bring them to his mouth, but was quick to repeatedly grind his clothed manhood against your needy, wet pussy. He smeared saliva on your breasts and continued to tread south, kissing and stroking your stomach with his big hands.
“Fuck,” he growled at the sight of your shimmering femininity, so eager for his attention. “So fucking pretty,” he said before kissing the inside of your right thigh, holding your hips in place to dip like a bee on your flower, eating you like no other has. You moaned loudly and squeezed your eyes shut, holding onto his hair as your legs unconsciously tightened around his head. He never wavered, devouring your pearl like a starving man only to feel your body relax beneath him, your orgasm coming so hot and wet it had you moaning pathetically as he licked for another moment. A proud smile appeared on his features, which was met by a shy and satisfied smile before your hands struggled to remove the last physical obstacle that separated them.
“Ready for me, love?”
You nodded during the long look at his beautiful member. How he would love to thrust into you with no hindrance, but that would be asking too much for a first night, he knew that. So when he returned to the bed with the condom on and settled himself between your legs, his hand on your knees, there was nothing to look forward to but losing himself in your wet heat, so deliciously hot and tight. He let out a guttural growl as you let out a sly moan, sagging in glee as your pussy was filled in a steady rhythm.
“Daemon,” you cried breathlessly, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. He became deeper and faster in his movements. “Oh! Don’t stop!" Your whisper had him moaning in your ear and biting down on your bottom lip, fucking your sensual body hungrily.
“Fuckin' hells,” he growled as you squeezed him and milked him wet all over his cock, kissing the sensitive spot on your neck. He didn't last long after that, allowing himself to fully enjoy your heat to come hard over your body, rolling over to discard the condom and lying next to you, pulling you into his chest.
“That was amazing,” you said, smiling wide and tired, feeling your warm intimacy relax completely.
He just smiled and nodded silently, draping an arm over your shoulder. You didn't bother too much to stay awake, however, Daemon's low voice caught your attention.
“You said you never had great aspirations, but you also told me of dreams to be fulfilled, desires, everything you would like to have, see and live. Let me do it, babygirl, let me help you.”
Your eyes widened, looking up to meet his calm features. "Are you serious?" We don't even know each other well, this is a big step for both of us,” you said.
“We have enough time for that, I just need to know if you want it.”
This is definitely the best night of your life. Of course I do, holy shit I want it so bad. “Yes! I want it! I want it so much!” You kissed him sleepily, smiling against his lips. And that's how the dynamic between you began.
tag: my bestie @valeskafics cause she planted the idea of sugar daddy daemon in my head with this work here, check out her work! She's the queen of hotd content.
#daemon#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#modern daemon#sugar daddy!daemon#sugar daddy daemon#daemon x reader#daemon x you#daemon targaryen x you#modern hotd#au#smut#daemon targaryen smut#matt smith
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