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#daddy daemon targaryen
lokisprettygirl · 1 month
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Want to ride him on his dragon 🐲
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syrma-sensei · 1 year
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If baby Visenya lived, she would be Daemon's favourite; daddy's little princess.
Can't change my mind.
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art by: lucife56.
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daemyrarule · 2 years
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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”
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jamespotterismydaddy · 7 months
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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
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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
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eraenaa · 1 month
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But Daddy, I love Him
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Aemond Targaryen x Niece Reader AU
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
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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“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,” 
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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.
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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???
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prideprejudce · 2 years
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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
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camilledusk1800s · 2 months
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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 😴🩷
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eschercaine · 2 years
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Next episode preview:
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#𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 🖤🐉
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By the way, I haven’t watched episode 6 because it wasn’t released yet in my country.
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ironthroneconquerors · 10 hours
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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year
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ㅤCatch me if you can, working on my tan, Salvatore.
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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.
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uchiha-no-hime · 7 months
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Let's admire the moment of teenage girl emotion that Daemon had when he noticed Rhaenyra looking at him
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Kicking his feet, giggling, twirling his hair
Daemon is his teenage dream era 🤣
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jamespotterismydaddy · 6 months
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Attention Seeker
Stepdad!daemon x reader
A/N: this can be read as a oneshot or as part of the daddys girl series. This was also slightly based off of a request here. Also I’m very proud of this so appreciate it🙏😭
TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT, somnophilia (in a way), innocence kink, stepcest, angst to fluff, body worship, daddy kink, light bondage
word count: 2,247 (this is the longest thing I’ve ever written which in slightly embarrassing)
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HANDS (I’m going crazy)
You and Daemon are in a strange routine for a stepdaughter and stepfather, you piss him off, he fucks you, rinse and repeat. You don’t mind the routine, it’s almost the only way you can get his attention, but you take it a step further this time.
You don’t know if it’s cheating, per se, when you bring home a boy from school. Jake always seemed to have a thing for you and teenage boys are horny. You aren’t even sure if you care about the whole cheating thing (if that’s what it is). When you get into Daemon’s mansion, you take Jake by the hand and lead him to the kitchen. Daemon is sitting there when you arrive, a glass of crimson red wine in his hand. He eyes Jake emotionlessly, clearly curious about who he is but not curious enough to give you the satisfaction of asking.
“This is Jake.” You say anyhow as you grab a bag of chips from the pantry.
“A friend?” Your stepfather asks, not looking concerned in the slightest.
“Something like that.” You say with just enough suggestion in your voice. You want to make his skin crawl. Even if he’d never show it.
“Nice to meet you, sir.” Jake says playfully. The ‘sir’ clearly isn’t said with the utmost respect. Daemon doesn’t even give him a glance in response.
You roll your pretty, sweet eyes and pull Jake up the stairs to your bedroom. You make it so that Daemon can hear just what the two of you are getting up to. You want him to know you can get pleasure elsewhere. You want him to be livid. You want him to explode. When you walk Jake out and press a kiss to his cheek, it’s exactly what you expect, anger. But it’s not what you’re given.
“Have a busy night, little girl?” He asks, eying your messy hair. It doesn’t feel like he’s flirting though. It feels like he just sees you as a dumb child. You keep silent and when you can’t come up with a response, he speaks again. “Go to bed then. You look… tired.” You almost think he’s judging you; you know he’s judging you. Feeling frustrated, you go up to your room again just like he suggests.
You act up a numerous amount of times over the next week, trying desperately to get him to see you, acknowledge what you need from him. He never gives in or punishes you in any way. You feel desperate at this point. So, you try to work your way into tempting him once again.
You fill up the massive clawfoot tub in his bathroom with hot water and bubbles. You then tie your hair up loosely in a bun before stripping down and stepping in. The water calms you and the fact that you’re doing this in Daemon’s bathroom excites you.
It isn’t more than 10 minutes before he returns home. He doesn’t call out for you, just makes his way upstairs and into his bathroom. Your stepfather doesn’t notice you right away but as he is loosening his tie, he catches your gaze in the mirror. If he is surprised, he doesn’t show it.
“Having a nice soak, little one?” He asks and you’re just happy that he’s decided to speak to you.
“It would be better if you joined me, Daemon.” You say as sensually as you can manage.
“I’m alright.” He says and walks out.
You’re upset by the rejection and you get out of the bath, wrapping a towel around you so you can follow him. He begins to undress in his walk-in closet.
“Perhaps I can help you relax.” You say softly and drop to your knees in front of him.
Your towel falls in a heap around your hips as you use your hands to unbuckle his belt. He looks disinterested as you take his cock out from his trousers and he doesn’t even say a word as you take him in your mouth. You feel feverish as you suck him off, trying to pull a reaction out of him. He stays looking bored as you work his cock vigorously. When he grabs you by the back of your hair, you feel hopeful, thinking he is going to take control but he doesn’t. He yanks your head off him so roughly that you fall to your bum.
“Gods, it’s like you’re trying to suck the skin off my cock.” He rolls his eyes and zips his pants back up, deciding to just keep his work trousers on. He leaves you in the closet and walks downstairs. You follow him like a hopeless little puppy.
“Why don’t you want me anymore?” You ask angrily as he sits in his armchair with his book, his reading glasses just put on. He sighs.
“If you would like a quick fuck, baby, then go ask Jake.”
So he is upset about that. You think to yourself.
“So you’re threatened by a teenage boy?” You scoff at him.
“Don’t act so high and mighty when less than two minutes ago, you were on your knees and begging for my cock.” He says in that same unconcerned tone.
“I-I was hardly begging.” You protest weakly because you know how true his words are.
“Why would I want such a silly little slut anyhow? Who knows what you got fucking all those other boys. Tell me, did you let Jake hit it raw?” He says so cruelly that tears spring to your eyes. You rush out of the room and up the stairs.
“Fuck.” He murmurs, knowing he went too far.
He rubs his temples, hearing the quiet sobs coming from your bedroom. Your stepfather knows he should treat you more gently. He gives you a minute to yourself before walking up the stairs and knocking.
“What?” You ask abrasively as he walks in.
“I apologize for what I said. You’re no slut and you can fuck who you please.” His jaw clenches at the last sentence. He clearly doesn’t want you fucking other people.
“I don’t want to fuck anyone else and you ignore me so often. How would I even know if you like me?” You sniffle.
He comes and sits beside you. “Oh baby, of course I like you.” He runs his fingers through your hair. “I didn’t mean to neglect my little girl.”
He takes the towel that is wrapped around you like a safety blanket and pulls it away. You immediately try to grab it back but he doesn’t let you. He then pulls you to your feet.
“No, let me look at you.” He doesn’t just look though. No, he touches you as well. Daemon’s hands trace down your sides and over your breasts, between your thighs. “Such a sweet thing. I want you to be only for me. Do you understand?” You nod timidly. “And I’ll be only for you.” You look pleased at this but also a little in dream land as he drops to his knees.
Daemon hooks an arm around your left thigh and spreads your legs a little so he can begin to eat you out. He goes very slowly, giving very much attention to everywhere but your pearl and you have to hold onto his hair to anchor yourself. You grind against his face a little to try and get the attention onto your pearl. He chuckles from between your thighs and begins to suck right where you want him to.
“Ah ah…” You let out quiet little moans and he rubs up and down your thigh for comfort.
You tug on his hair harder now as he uses his tongue to try and coax your peak out of you. He works his mouth a little faster now, knowing how close you are. You can feel it building more, and more… until you fall over the edge, your legs trembling as the high washes over you. He moves his tongue slowly now, so he can help you come down off it peacefully.
“Good girl.” He says as he parts his mouth from your folds, his lips shining with your wetness. “That silly boy never made you feel so good, did he?” You flush in a way that he wasn’t expecting, like you’re hiding something. “What is it, princess? Did he not make you cum?” He asks, still on his knees for you so he can press fluttering kisses to your abdomen.
“I um… we didn’t.” You start.
“Oh honey, did he even touch you? Did you let him take those pretty panties off?” He only has to look at your face to know the answer. “Then what were those sounds coming from your room?”
“I grinded on him a bit.” You say softly.
“Did you make the poor boy cum in his boxers?” He asks with a chuckle as he stands, causing you to look up at him.
You nod.
“I hardly believe a little dry humping was making you moan like that.” He says.
“I might have exaggerated so you’d hear.” You say bashfully.
“I thought so. You did all that to get daddy’s attention? Seven hells, baby, you need to learn to just ask.” He says as he holds your chin and runs a finger over your lips.
“Okay.” You say submissively.
“Who knew such an innocent looking thing would need to be fucked so badly.” He murmurs. “Go lay on my bed and wait for me.” He says and you quickly scurry off to his room.
He makes you wait for a while, grabbing some nice ribbon that would be strong enough to restrain you. When he enters his room, you’re lying on your tummy, clutching a pillow.
“On your back, hands above your head.” He commands and you listen carefully and obey.
He then brings out the ribbon to tie your wrists together and to the headboard. “Does that hurt?”
“No.” You say as you shake your head.
He hmms in approval and parts your thighs again so he can eat you once more. You’re surprised by this, not sure how much he thinks you can take.
Once Daemon gets a second orgasm out of you, he strips down himself.
“I just… need a moment.” You say, all dazed but he puts a hand to your folds and begins to rub slowly.
“No.” He says a little coldly. “You don’t get a moment.”
You try to pull your hips away as he rubs his tip against your pearl but no amount of squirming can keep him from you.
“Daddy…” you whimper out, not knowing really if it’s a plea for more or a plea for him to stop. You can’t form the thoughts to actually care either way.
“Shhh, little girl. I know what you need.” He slips himself inside of you and you’re so slick that it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it usually does. You just feel a dull sort of ache as you take him in.
He cants his hips against yours again and again, the gentle thrusts stirring something up in your tummy. He leaves your pearl alone now but it doesn’t stop the sensation, like a coil winding up in your tummy. You’ve never considered that you could peak from penetration alone but as he lazily moves his cock in and out of you, you know that it’ll be the case today. Daemon looks surprised as well as he sees that glaze in your eyes you get when you’re close. He stopped the stimulation to draw out your pleasure but realizes that it’s likely that the smallest touches from him right now would cause you to peak.
“Are you going to cum, baby?” He asks you gently.
You just gaze up at him dreamily in response. He then feels you clench around him, watches your face screw up a bit as you squirm again. He knows he should probably stop, he could just pump himself and finish on your tummy, but he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through the high and then some. The overstimulation has you tugging on the ribbons that hold you.
“Just a little longer.” He says to assure you.
“It’s too much…” You mewl out.
He keeps his steady thrusts and you feel yourself slipping away, the touch on your pearl not even bringing you back to reality. He cums inside you and the gooey warm feeling makes you peak a fourth time but your drowsiness has your eyes feeling heavy.
“Oh, baby.” He coos out as you fall into sleep.
You don’t feel what happens next, how he unties you or wipes you down gently with a cloth. He lets you sleep for a half hour before waking you up with light strokes to your hair.
“How do you feel?” He asks as your vision unblurs.
“Tired.” You say.
“You just woke up.” He says with a light, breathy chuckle. “My sleeping beauty.”
“Lay with me for a while longer?” You ask but it’s not really a question.
Daemon could never deny you when you’re like this so he gets under the warm, fluffy covers with you. You cling to him like a koala, resting your head on his chest so you can hear him breathe. You both are more than content to lay like this. You want to absorb into him but for now you can settle on feeling the rise and fall of his chest.
Taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy
Daddy’s girl: @mukduk-not-murder @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @thefallenangel21n @ajthefujoshi
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whateveryeah · 10 months
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This edits 🤩 they look so good 🤤
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aemondsbabygirl · 9 months
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New still from episode 10
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dae-daetargaryen · 1 year
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PLS RAIL ME MY PRINCE
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