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targaryen-dynasty · 29 days

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ENCOURAGEMENT.

Daemon Targaryen x little sister!Reader

It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister), mirror sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, female and pregnant reader, lactation, lactation kink, nipple play

WORDS: 2.5 K

NOTES: Thank you for betaing this sweet thing, @happilyhertale! 🤍

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Frustration brings you to the point you stand completely bare in front of the large mirror that’s been brought into your chambers by the servants, looking at your reflection. To the right hangs a black gown, and to the left a more reddish one. And neither of the two will fit over your swollen curves, you just know by looking at it.

You’ve scared off your ladies-in-waiting a few minutes ago, usually soft-spoken you experiencing an emotional outburst that just called for you to be left alone.

Nearing the six moon mark of your first pregnancy has left your body with scars and marks around your rounded belly and swollen breasts, some even teetering down the insides of your thighs. And yet, when you look at your husband strolling into your martial chambers with not more than a large cloth hanging around his hips, his scarred chest on full display, you can only admire him for wearing them with so much confidence.

But not even your own doubts can stop your eyes from stealing glances, his toned physique managing to put your mind at ease for once. Trailing your eyes over the expanse of his scarred chest down to the dark trail of hair that ends deep below the cloth that conceals most of it. However, it only poorly hides the way his half-hard member prods against the linen with each step he makes towards you.

He makes no secret out of the way his lilac eyes all but devour your body and its curves, although your belly is not yet as swollen as Aemma’s was when she was with Rhaenyra. The pregnancy has made you even more of a woman, and knowing he’s the one responsible for it makes him feel proud but also quite possessive.

“What is it?” he asks, his gravelly voice sending a chill down your spine.

Daemon eventually comes to a stop with his tall frame looming over yours from behind, fingers trailing over your side in an uncharacteristically tender and gentle manner. Every inch of your reflection is devoured by his greedy eyes. “We do not have to attend the feast, you know,” he says. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself of the pleasure of spending time with my wife.”

As he bows his head forward to press his lips to your shoulder, the soft strands of his silver hair tickle your skin, making you lean into his embrace and him reaching around you to splay a hand over your swollen belly.

“But I want to go. It’s the feast in honor of the queen announcing her pregnancy, and our brother will be cross with us if we do not attend,” you pout at him. “I just… I just don’t know which dress to choose.”

Daemon, however, knows full well that you’re being less than honest with him about your reluctance to go to the feast, becoming obvious when he starts to trace his fingers over the marks running across the underside of your bump. “That truly is a conundrum,” he says.

Sighing loudly, you try to escape his fingers by leaning further against him. But the friction your rear causes against the cloth is enough to loosen its tie, allowing it to fall to the ground.

The both of you are completely bare now, and he wastes no time in pressing his hard cock snugly into the crevice of your arse, making his desire for you more than clear.

“Let us forget the dresses for now. You know you’ll look ravishing no matter what you wear,” Daemon drawls, running a hand along your side. “Besides, why not allow me to appreciate every inch of you… no dresses involved.”

It sounds far too tempting… if you were in the mood. But with you struggling with your changing body for quite some time now, the thought of unraveling for him discourages you even more. “We do not have time,” you try to protest.

Much to your surprise, your usually insolent husband listens to your words.

“I think you’ll find that we have plenty of time, my love,” he mumbles, taking a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “The time we spend together would be much better than the time spent amongst a bunch of prudes at a feast.”

Not paying a mind to his words, you just nod appreciatively, and bring your attention back to the two gowns still hanging next to the mirror. Perhaps you can make the black one work with the laces tied extra loosely, and you only present at the feast for no longer than two hours.

Daemon stalks around you to stand next to the mirror, shamelessly dragging his eyes over your naked form and watching you inspect one of the dresses.

“Do you not have to dress yourself, husband?” you ask, pinching the fabric of the black dress between your fingers, trying not to pay too much attention to him. But his gaze is intense, burning straight through your skin, and making your body heat up.

You meet his eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

“There is a more important matter for me to tend to,” he objects.

“What are you–” you’re interrupted when your husband grabs the sides of the mirror and hoists it up, bringing it closer to your marital bed.

Turning on your heels, you watch him adjust it and eventually sit down on the bed with both feet planted firmly on the ground. The confusion must be evident on your features, because without a question uttered, Daemon pats his sturdy thigh and parts his legs, silently beckoning you over with a come-hither motion of his fingers.

The sight alone is alluring, his thick cock resting hard and heavy between his thighs, covered in an angry red and aching to be buried inside of you. But wanting to find out what he’s in mind is what brings you closer to him.

You move to climb his lap, wanting to sit astride him like you sit on Silverwing, but Daemon beats you to it. He scoots back slightly and brings his paws to your hips, turning you around. He pulls you back to sit down in the space between his parted legs.

When his hands hook beneath your knees to drape them over his thighs, inevitably exposing yourself to him, you instinctively lean back against him to adjust to the position.

You want to squeeze your thighs together, to hide from him, but his legs stop you from doing so. He brings a hand up to cup your full breast, squeezing lightly and testing the weight and shape of it. They’re full of milk by now, providing for your unborn child, and hard and heavy to the touch.

Pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side, not daring to watch your fully exposed reflection in the mirror. You’ve been bare around him the whole time, and he’s fucked you in ways that would bring a blush to certain people’s faces, but something in the current position and your growing insecurities makes you more vulnerable right now.

Daemon adjusts his fingers so that your taut bud pops up between them, and just a bit of pressure is already enough to coax droplets of your milk to spill from it. Your breathing grows heavy, more so because it’s already enough friction to ease some of the tormenting tension.

“I want to see you full and lovely and large, swollen with my seed and carrying my child,” he mutters against your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your chin, pushing your head forwards to all but force you to look at yourself. “And I want you to watch as I worship that precious body of yours.”

The hand on your chin settles at your throat, not squeezing it but tight enough for it to be a warning for you not to move. The other hand releases your breast and trails down to the apex of your legs. It all happens agonizingly slowly, tracing and following every scar that runs along the curve of your bump, until it finally finds your cunt.

As his fingers drag through it, even your husband can’t seem to stop himself from moaning. “You’re weeping for me, my love,” he rasps, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So beautiful.” Withdrawing his fingers, they’re glistening with your arousal, connected by faint strings of it as he spreads his fingers.

You whimper, and dip your head back far enough for him to capture your lips. The kiss is sloppy, matching the rhythm he sets up as his fingers trace your cunt.

Daemon hums in approval as you pull away from him to look into the mirror, watching the exact moment his deft fingers ease into you. You gasp at the motion, and put all your weight back against him, melting into his embrace with his muscular arms around you.

There’s a pout on your lips when the pressure of his fingers leaves you again, used to spread apart your folds instead. In the reflection you see his dark blown eyes fixed on nothing else than what lies between your legs, his hard cock throbbing against your lower back as you clench around nothing. “Look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me, my love.”

Trying to squeeze your thighs shut, his hand comes from your throat to clasp around one, keeping you spread open for him. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he warns, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

With the heel of his hand pressing snugly against your pearl now, you can’t help but whimper as his fingers enter you again. The pace is slow and languid, making clear that neither of you is in a hurry tonight. It’s all about you.

“Seven hells, just look at you,” he coos against the side of your face, tip of his nose nudging your cheek. He clearly enjoys the confidence you slowly start to muster as his praises go straight to your head, coaxing you to rock your hips against his hand. “You truly have no idea of how much I desire you. Always.”

His words bring another wave of crimson to your cheeks, running down your neck and chest. It’s heaving with all the heavy breaths you inhale, and your taut buds have not softened since he touched them. If everything, his words and gestures have coaxed a few beads of milk to ooze from both, running down the curve of your breasts.

Reaching behind you, your hand rests at the back of his head, entangling into his long, silver hair. “Daemon–” you whimper, but he’s quick to silence you.

“Shush now,” he rasps. “Just enjoy and observe.”

And you certainly do, watching his fingers pump in and out of you as if it’s the most enthralling thing you’ve ever seen.

When he’s sure you’ll keep your legs spread for him, he brings his hand to your full breast again, groping and squeezing it, pinching the little bud to tease even more milk to spill from it.

It’s so much coming together at once. His praise goes straight to your head, making it hazy and longing for more, while liquid fire courses through your veins, ignited by the skilled ministrations of his fingers.

Daemon seems to sense your impending peak, and is determined to work you toward the sweet relief you so desperately crave.

The pace of his fingers increases now, fingers repeatedly brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision blurry. Pleasure soars through your body, and eventually is enough to snap the familiar knot inside of your belly. And that’s also the moment you can’t watch yourself any longer. The pleasure grows to the point you have to close your eyes to be able to thoroughly enjoy it. But your husband doesn’t seem to mind.

“There you go,” he coos, not slowing down the pace of his hands. “Such a good girl.”

Your walls convulse all over Daemon’s fingers, and with you releasing the sweetest and most desperate sounds your husband has heard in a while, he’s sure he could’ve peaked on spot, more so with the vice-like grip you have on his long hair.

His hand works you through the waves of euphoria, just slightly slowing down, and while your mind doesn’t process some of the praises he mumbles against your skin, your body does; with a renewed wave of arousal dripping out of your cunt.

It’s surprising that the pleasure doesn’t get replaced by overstimulation, especially with just how little time he gives you to recover until he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a harsher pace again.

“Gods be good,” you whimper, tipping your head back against his shoulder. Your hand releases his hair and instead you grab his forearm with both, clinging onto it for dear life.

“One more for me, you’re doing so good.”

You have barely time to process the first peak and its repercussions when the second washes over you in an ambush, striking you like lightning. It’s not as intense as the first, but prolonged with his other hand now frantically rubbing your pearl.

“Shh, just let it happen,” he purrs, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek as you struggle against him.

It takes just a few more pumps of his hand until the pleasure subsides, only leaving a wave of bliss in its wake. Daemon’s hands both stop their ministrations, and you finally feel as though you’re able to breathe again.

As you open your eyes, you see him lick the remnants of your arousal off his fingers, before they tease your buds again, gathering some of your milk to lick off of them as well.

Whimpering and whining at the touch, you just slowly catch your breath. He soothes you by snaking both arms around your form, cupping your swollen belly, and presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.

“You’re an absolute vision in this state, and I do not wish for you to ever doubt that,” he mutters against your skin. “You look more desirable carrying my child, than any other woman does in their most provocative dress.”

Releasing a soft chuckle, you turn your head and capture his lips with yours. A chaste peck is not what he has anticipated, but he’s still happy that he was able to lift your spirits.

“Kirimvose, ñuha jorrāelagon,” you whisper. “Care to help me with the black dress?” Thank you, my love.

“Oh, I will,” Daemon says with a teasing lilt in his voice. He grabs you by the waist and carefully hoists you up, but when he lies you down on your back, you know you won’t be getting into the dress so soon. “But I think I need just a little more time to get fully into the spirit of the occasion.”

The moment he climbs on the bed to kiss his way over your marks and curves, you squeal and squirm, entangling your hands into his hair again.

Viserys can never be angry with you two for long anyway.

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dragon-queen-rhaenyra · 2 years

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#targaryens twitter drama #really tho whos going to tell him?#house of the dragon #daenyra #daemon targaryen #daemyra #got #rhaenyra targaryen #laenor velaryon #game of thrones #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #hotd meme #house of the dragon ep 7 #hotd #viserys targaryen #hotd spoilers #rhaenyra x daemon #rhaenyra targaryen x daemon targaryen

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the-djarin-clan · 2 years

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Top Dragons I'd Ride If I Was Targaryen:

1 - Daemon Targaryen

The End. gifs daenerys-stormborn

#daemon targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #house of targaryen #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra #matt smith

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themotherofblood · 1 year

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Can I request a Daemyra X daughter reader. Readers really quiet and barely talks to anyone even her parents. So Daemon and Rhaenyra are suprised when she comes to them all hot and bothered babbling about sex and such. And she tells them she was reading in the library and found a book about masturbation or something and she tried to do it but it didn’t work.

Breastfeeding and of course mommy/daddy kink

heheh this one is so filthy, YALL did not hold back!! Just by description whoever is reading; you already know it’s taboo as fuck, I will post individual warnings under here. Istg if I get one single ask saying you are so disgusting. I going to wish you eternal diarrhea for life 🤍

Masterlist

Dark!Daemyra Targaryen x Daughter!Reader

major tw: incest! infantilism, lactation kink/breastfeeding. major mdlg/ddlg vibes. lots of clit play (LIKE A LOT) squirting, kinda dubcon-ish, age gap and purity culture and aftercare because I’m not a monster

If this isn't your cup of tea, I have others, do not come at me :)

Rhaenyra had sat the court in her own chambers with her husband, Daemon looked behind her chair as they converted with their vassal lords at Dragonstone of politics and economical benefits and more mundane businesses of fixing toeholds and inkeeps. Their children undoubtedly had all been out dragon riding, all expect one. They were sure she was hidden somewhere deep in the libraries of Dragonstone.

You were one of true beauty, fathered by Daemon on some tavern wench; when he found out about your existence he had brought you back to Dragonstone as a babe after you had been legitimized by Viserys. A quiet mouse in the claws of dragons, a mere girl of eight and ten. You never said much or spoke over a whisper, an angel child with silver whisps of the Targaryen family. Rhaenyra had always been taken with you; her own children ran such a muck in her household that having one that sat still for hours at an end was a blessing by the gods.

“The Queen Alicent hopes to find a match for Lady Y/N,” The maester said hesitantly as he placed the parchment by Rhaenyra.

“Oh fuck that, she isn’t going anywhere.” Daemon barked.

Rhaenyra considered the possibility, you were old enough to be wed and yet she feared that your quiet demeanour would be squandered under the weight of a loveless marriage; Daemon was right, you could remain here where both Daemon and she could protect you. Such a sweet thing out in the world, it was cruel. The council dispersed as Rhaenyra lounged with a warm cloth on her swollen breasts, milk making them sore as baby Viserys had already been fed.

Then in walked Septa Marlow, her veiled face that remained pinched as always and her unkindly eyes looking furious as you- their sweet daughter followed behind with your eyes fixated on the ground.

“Your grace, your grace,” She offered her courtesies to both Rhaenyra and Daemon. It wasn't unusual for her to complain about the princess’s children. However your guilt-ridden face was a rare occurrence.

“What has happened?” Rhaenyra asked, looking to her teary eyed daughter.

“I had found the princess in the library reading- reading filth!” Septa Marlow hissed “Enganging in sin!”

“What sin?” Daemon perked up, rounding the table to lean against it

“Must- must I elaborate my prince?” Septa Marlow grew uncomfortable, fumbling to find words.

“You come in here, accusing my daughter of something. Speak it plainly then.” Daemon said, unimpressed at the the Septa’s chaste words

“She- she was coupling with herself.” Marlow looked as though she was ready to grace the gods. Rhaenyra’s eyes shot to you, tears of shame fell past your eyes as they remained fixated on the stone floor. You refused to look at your parents.

“Thank you for your report, leave us,” Rhaenyra commanded. The septa took her leave, closing the door behind her with a thud.

There was thick silence that followed, leaving the room in a delicate situation.

“Y/N, look at me.” Rhaenyra said, shuffling further into her seat. “What do you have to say for yourself.”

“I- I was looking for newer books,” You began stammering, your voice, as usual, was barely over a whisper “I couldn’t help it, I felt warm and the book said- I am sorry mother, I am sorry.” Your bottom lip wobbled as guilty tears coated your face.

Daemon’s eyes softened, looking at his little girl sobbing for apologies as if you had stolen candy, such a good girl and the poor thing had not a clue of why you felt what you felt. Daemon pointed to the vacant chair next to Rhaenyra for you to sit. You sniffled, still refusing to look at Daemon as you sat on the chair.

“You are growing sweet girl, it is only natural you feel such urges,” Rhaenyra cooed as she tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. Daemon knelt down to match your height, wiping at the tears coating your reddened cheeks

“No one shall punish my zaldrititos,” He said in attempt to stop your silent cries, you kept shuffling in your seat; yanking at your skirts and yet the fear- more so the discomfort from your face just wouldn’t fade “What is it, sweet girl?”

“I-it hurts,” You whispered as your eyes closed in shame again.

“What hurts?” Daemon asked once more, looking over your body to find any visible mark, if that hag of a Septa laid a punishment on you without him knowing; Caraxes was sure to have a fine meal for supper tonight.

“My- my...” You shuffled more, pulling at the skirts around your crotch, it was only then it dawned on Daemon before he looked back to his wife. His heart filled with fire for the girl’s frustrations.

“You didn't peak, did you zaldritos?” He said with adoration in his voice as he caressed your cheek. She looked up at him, teary-eyed and confused “That warmth in your belly like a sneeze stuck in your nose?” He watched as your eyes pondered his explanation before you shook her head.

Rhaenyra tutted behind him, “Oh, you poor thing.” She got up, offering his daughter her hand. You followed Rhaenyra as you were led into their bed chambers. She helped you onto their martial bed, your feet dangling of the edge as you fiddles with your fingers.

“Won’t you show us where it hurts?” Rhaenyra urged.

Daemon nearly felt his cock twitch in his breeches as his wife coaxed his daughter to rest against a mount of pillows. Daemon cleared his throat as he walked to the bed. His daughter’s eyes were nervously darting between him and Rhaenyra; your breath quickening as Rhaenyra pushed your pretty white sandals off.

“Good girl, just let mother take care of you,” Rhaenyra said in a sing song voice, she pushed your legs to the side; making you lift your hips to the bunch your skirts by your hip. Tears of embarrassment began to pour from your eyes yet again.

“Oh- that old hag didn’t even let you put your small clothes on,” Daemon shook his head, breath hitching as he looked right at the glistening mess in between your legs; he moved to kneel right by you as he urged Rhaenyra’s to console their daughter. “That does look painful.” He tutted.

Your pink bloom shielded by a dainty mound of white wisps, groomed to perfection to be a proper lady. He let a finger trail around your outer folds making you shudder. “Show kepa how you touched yourself.” He said stroking your inner thighs.

You nodded in disagreement, trying to hide your face at the crook of Rhaenyra’s neck as you sat flush between his wife’s legs.

“How are we to help you if you won’t show us sweet girl,” Rhaenyra kissed your temple as she guided your hands to your folds. “Be a good girl, show us.” Your dainty fingers began to hesitantly rub at her glistening petals.

You nearly wanted to be swallowed whole as you averted your gaze away from your kepa, small mewls and whimpers pouring from your lips that set both Rhaenyra and Daemon’s blood on fire. The frustration in their daughter's eyes grew further as your hips began to grind against your hand, a fruitless effort at best as your nimble fingers grew tired. He watched as her bottom lip wobbled again as angry tears began to flood at your eyes.

Daemon stopped your hand, his much larger one engulfing yours, fine little princess had not a clue about eliciting pleasures from one’s body.

“There is something wrong with me,” You whimpered to which Rhaenyra immediately differed.

“There is nothing wrong with our little girl, you just require a demonstration,” She cooed, reaching forward to wipe your tears. “Watch your father, he shall make it all better.”

Daemon made you stick two fingers out, your pointer and middle and gently placed them above where you had been caressing. You were confused until he pushed down on your fingers making you gasp, that’s where it was- the aching throb that bother you for hours as you read that God-forsaken book. Daemon smirked at your reaction as Rhaenyra placed more kisses at the side of your face

“Now gently begin again, darling.” Rhaenyra whispered in your ear.

“Yes, mommy,” You replied, much like as she taught you to write when you were little or took you dragon riding.

You began to rub the right circle above the please-inducing flesh, following the slow motions your father guided above your hands. Your toes curled, finding comfort in the gentle stroke on your arm and legs by three hands. You bit your lip hard to muffle the moans threatening to rip through.

“Ah uh- let us hear them little girl,” Daemon reached forward to pull your lip from you teeth. “That feels much better, does it not.”

You eagerly nodded “So good daddy.” You squirmed in your mother’s hold.

Both Rhaenhra and Daemon took much leisure in hearing you moan and whimper for them, a girl that barely speaks a word to them was wantonly moaning and replying to every word they uttered to you. A subtle panic ran through your body as you get that warmth build in you belly again, for whatever awaited you on the other end never seemed to come to you. Both Daemon and Rhaenyra felt your body seize.

“You must soften your body, just as you relieve yourself in the morrow.” She said, rubbing at your arms. You free hand parting away to take ahold of something, Daemon reached forward, entangling your finger in between his.

“Let go, zaldritos- be a good girl,” He cooed, some string in your mind snapped over your father’s command and you felt the tingles trapped in your swollen nerves spread through your body as you shrieked. Daemon hand held onto your tight as your body shuddered through it pleasures.

You could feel yourself look back to consciousness where everything didn't sound so muffled; you could feel your kèpa petting your hair and your muña peppering kisses down your neck. You blinked your eyes open, still breathing heavily, a lazy smile spreading over your lips her your cheek burned in humiliation over how you came undone for them.

“Must have felt so good,” Rhaenyra hummed as she lifted your fingers to her mouth and suckled on them before letting Daemon savour your taste.

“Mhmm, such a glorious delicacy,” Your father cooed at you.

You felt him shuffle lower, his breath hitting your sensitive mound as your eyes shot open. “So sensitive,” He used his thumb to gently circle your peaking bud from its hiding. He pushed your folds further exposing the reddened bud to the known world. “Such a tiny thing giving you all that pleasure,” He tapped at the exposed bundle of nerves making your jerk against Rhaenyra’s hold.

Daemon looked up, giving you a hardened gaze of a warning. Your father wasn't a strict man, and yet you always wanted to please him. You followed the rules, you finished your meals whole and went to bed at a proper hour; you under no circumstances wanted to anger him.

He let out a cool blow of air from his lips right onto your nerve, making you dig your hands into the sheets to not flick away from him. “It still looks frustrated, does it not Rhaenyra?”

“Yes, yes it does.” She agreed with her husband, letting her soft fingers pad at your nerves, you pathetically whimpered at how sensitive you were but did nothing to fight her advance. She began rubbing circles at your clit once more as Daemon rested on his knees, watching your untouched weeping hold clench and relax over the ecstasy you were in.

“Is your muña making you feel good?” Daemon asked, his fingertips still caressing your legs.

“kessa...Kessa!” You shrieked as Rhaenyra began to rub at your nerves faster, your legs tightened trying to fight the oncoming surge of sensations. The overwhelming sensations again began to water your eyes as you clothed onto Rhaenyra’s arm for dear life.

“Ah...there it is- such a good little girl,” Rhaenyra praised as your cunt spasmed, your legs shaking as your peak consumed your being yet again.

Daemon’s fingers yet again found your cunt, spreading your lips apart to admire your quivering little num, his fingers flicked at the flesh as you still recovered from the aftershocks of your second peak, you fought against them this time; your pussy was unable to take any more of this torment. Daemon pointed at you.

“Kepa deserves a turn, does he not?” He cooed, you still squirmed under his hold trying to wriggle yourself free “Whether you want it or not little girl.”

“One more riñītsos,” Rhaenyra kissed your cheek.

“Daddy- I will die,” You exaggerated, frightened tears spilling from your eyes as the tingles running through your nerves became far too over powering

“You won't die silly girl, kepa and muña will never let you die.” Daemon chuckled, Rhaenyra pushed forward to his down your abdomen as Daemon clutched a tight hold under your knees as he prepared to feast on his babyslut’s cunt. That quivering red little rosebud just begging to be in his mouth. He spat on your cunt before latching himself directly onto your bundle of nerves.

This time you screamed, the loudest anyone might have ever heard you in your lifetime. Rhaenyra consoled you, pampering your skin with her lips as she whispered words of encouragement in your ear. Just as a mother specified its child, Rhaenyra pushed the fingers she used in your cunt in your mouth; muffling your desperate cries as you suckled on them; tasting the sweetish sour slick on her fingers.

Daemon pushed your hood out even further flicking his tongue right under the hood, making you cry louder “Aw riñītsos, is that the very tingly part, is kepa licking your sensitive bit?” Rhaenyra shuffled the top of your gown down, letting your perky breasts spill free. She rolled your hardened pebbles in between her spare fingers. It was far too much, you were going due, you were sure of it. You tummy hurt from his hard you were clenching.

Daemon wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers in your untouched velvety core, yet he wanted your maidenhead unspoiled; something he planned on claiming him on a later occasion. Perhaps your forthcoming name day, he would pamper you old day just so he could watch your little body sob underneath him.

Daemon tapped at you clit “So tingly all over,” He piped, mocking your tears before rolling the nub in his fingers “We are making you feel so good, what do obedient ladies say sweet girl? What's the word?” He gently pinched at the red nerve. You were trying to muster the word at the tip of tongue yet couldn't over the incessant mocking.

“Aw, my love- her little nub is so red, our princess is so sensitive isn't she.” She pinched your nipples harder.

“What the word zaldritos?” Daemon laid a spank on your mound making you scream out the word over your mother’s fingers

“Thank you, thank you- krimvose,” You sobbed,

“Good girl,” Both Daemon and Rhaemhra praised in unison as kepa began rubbing at you clit harder before latching himself on one last time.

“So many tingles- I know, a few more,” Rhaenyra held on tighter to your thrashing “Oh dear- there- oh look at the mess riñītsos!”

Your peak gushed all over the bed, coating Daemon’s mouth as your eyes rolled back. Your chest rapidly rises and falls. You were dying, you were sure of it. Daemon and Rhaenyra at both smiled at each other triumphantly as their parental instincts took over.

Daemon lifted his tunic off his body, using it to wipe at your drenched thighs and mound and helping Rhaenyra off the bed and onto her cushioned arm chair before gently placing you onto her lap. He wrapped the two of your with a blanket before yanking the wet sheet of their bed and crumpling it to the floor.

Servants began to pour in to find a perfect picture of a family where a daughter took comfort in her mother’s arms before bed and the father readied himself for bed. He had them rekindle the fire for you, even with dragon’s blood running in your veins you were some how always cold. Only once the servants took their leave, Daemon kneeled at your level as both him and Rhaenyra fussed with your gown.

“You were so good for us riñītsos,” He cooed as he helped you stand, he yanked once more on your gown; letting it pool by your feet.

You rested your weight against him as Rhaenyra ran a warm watered cloth against your body, she reached in between you legs to clean and you whimpered

“I know, sweet girl. Almost done.” She coaxed.

“From now on, whenever you feel the tingles. You come straight to us zaldritsos.” Daemon said as he caressed your head against his shoulder, you lazily nodded “Words, my girl.”

“Come to you for tingles.” You mumbled.

Once all was said and done, Rhaenyra found a solution for her swollen breasts as you regressed further, she freed a breast from her sleep shift, opening her arms out in bed for you to lay in. You lazily latched at her nipple as spurts of sweet milk filled your mouth, you hummed; hungrily drinking from her as Daemon undid the bed curtains before joining his girls in bed. He picked out a book; one of your favourites for him to read out for you.

That night you dozed in between you parents arms, tummy full of milk as your mother cuddled your bare body from one end and your father from another.

It was an unsaid rule, parents never pick a favourite child and yet it would be written in history that their riñītsos was definitely the golden girl.

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antheina · 1 year

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justinalovee · 1 year

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𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒆𝒔

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen × Reader × Daemon Targaryen

Word Count: 995

Warnings: Incest, oral sex, threesome, masturbating, anal sex, mild humiliation/praise

Summary: Rhaenyra is made to apologise to her wife in an unconventional way

A/N: All characters are 18+ and consenting! minors DNI

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said…”

The look you give Rhaenyra causes her to pause; sheepishly, she presses her lips together. You had overheard her laughing when some lord made a crude remark about your cousin Alicent. Although you and Alicent never saw eye to eye, you had strictly forbidden any mention of her, your uncle Otto Hightower, or Aemond. Since all three of them had been punished for their crimes of treason and for almost killing Lucerys, you didn’t see the need to mention their names again.

Rhaenyra stands with her hands behind her back, waiting to be told what to do. A warm breath lingers against the back of your neck as Daemon struggles to contain his composure from behind you. Your husband's hard member was buried deep into your ass as you sat on his lap, which should have been a lot more painful, but you felt mainly pleasure due to the many orgasms he had given you before using you as a cock warmer.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at your flesh with his teeth. You feel his smile grow against your skin. “What punishment do you have planned for her? Something wicked, I presume.”

You can’t help but smirk; you always loved toying and teasing Daemon in the bedroom. If he wound you up enough, you would spend hours pleasuring him but stop each time he was about to. Sometimes this would last all night before you let him cum deep inside you. But Rhaenyra was different; she was a lot more sensitive than Daemon and wouldn’t enjoy the same type of punishment. Intimacy was the one time Rhaenyra could forget that she was the queen and enjoy being told what to do.

“We could spank her ass until it’s red, but she would enjoy that.” You lock eyes with Rhaenyra. “Wouldn’t you, my queen?”

She nods.

“I could tie her up and gag her. That way nobody could hear her screams as you used her for your own satisfaction.” Daemon whispers while groping at your bare breast, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Your own personal whore to fuck whenever you like.”

While letting out a moan of pleasure, you watch as the silver-haired beauty before you tries to discreetly squeeze her legs together. It gave you an idea.

“What do you want, Rhaenyra?”

A faint smile pulls on her lips. “To be yours, Esmé, and for you to use me how you like.”

You raised your brows, amused by her answer; usually she was a lot more bratty. “Take off your clothes and lay on the bed.”

You place your hand on top of Daemons, removing it from your breast and lowering it to your core. Getting the hint, he slowly begins to rub at your clit, saying, “Naughty girl, you’re wanting to put on a show.”

“No, I want to see one,” you say quietly. You watch as Rhaenyra removes the last of her clothes and lays back on the bed, her legs spread wide open. The chair you and Daemon were both on wasn’t far from the bed, which meant you were close enough to see the sticky wetness that had been dribbling down her legs. “Touch yourself, but do not cum.”

Rhaenyra immediately slid her finger between her silky folds, spreading the wetness up to her clit before inserting her finger.

Slowly, you begin to rock your hips, causing Daemons to let out a deep moan. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a knot start to build in your lower abdomen. The position you were in had you feeling so full and empty at the same time; Daemon must have been thinking the same thing. You let out a whine as he slid a finger inside you. “My dear wife, you won’t be able to watch with your eyes closed.” He kisses your cheek and says, “Look how close she is to cumming already.”

Your eyes snap open, and you watch as three fingers disappear into Rhaenyra’s tight hole, causing more wetness to drip from your own. Daemon's skilled finger finds the right spot inside you as your hips start to buck faster. “Fuck!”

The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of skin slapping together and high-pitched moans. Rhaenyra’s legs begin to tremble, but she removes her fingers before she can reach her orgasm. “Good girl,” you say, motioning for her to come over to you and outstretching a hand for her to take. When she reaches you, you take one of her fingers into your mouth and taste her sweetness. “You taste delicious; now let Daemon lick the them clean.”

When Rhaenyra steps closer to let Daemon suck on her fingers, you latch your mouth onto her breast. You suck on it until you hear Daemon say, “Perhaps you would like to taste something as well? Get on your knees for our wife.”

Your hands tangle into Rhaenyra’s hair as she kneels in front of you and starts lapping at your pussy. She dove her tongue between your folds, lapping at your juices, as Daemon began to bounce you on top of him, his fingers digging into your thick thighs.

“Daemon,” you gasp, feeling him twitch inside you. Your legs begin to tremble as the coil tightening in your lower stomach snaps at the same time he comes inside you. Daemon rests his head against the back of your neck as he catches his breath. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close so he doesn’t slide out.

When your legs finally stop shaking, Rhaenyra looks up at you; her face is glimmering with your slickness. Her lilac eyes blown wide with lust, she licks at her lips before pressing kisses on your thigh.

“Have I gained your forgiveness?” She asks.

You gently cup the side of her face and say, “Yes, sweet girl, you are forgiven. Now you can make yourself cum.”

#daemyra #house of the dragon #daemyra x reader #daemyra smut #rhaenyra targaryen smut #Rhaenyra Targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x you #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #Daemon Targaryen smut #house of the dragon smut #house of the Dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

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frankcastleonlyfans · 2 years

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𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐑Ī𝐙𝐄𝐒, 𝐃.𝐓

pairing: daemon targaryen x martell!reader

summary: a week after the tournament day, prince daemon and y/n became something more.

words: 2.8k

author's note: I personally hate the smut part, and I really think it sucks. I am truly sorry, guys :( also, I know Mysaria is from Essos and she understands high valyrian, but let's just ✨️ pretend ✨️ she doesn't. and I know dragonstone is literally inside a volcano BUT for the story's sake let's forget that. again, I am so sorry about the smut part. I love you all and thank you so much for the support y'all have given me on the first part. ❤️‍🩹

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

18+ warning

warnings: dub-con, rough sex, degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), daemon being hot while speaking high valyrian, daemon being hot while dominant, daemon being daemon.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

"You never said we were coming to Dragonstone." Y/N muttered while getting out of Faora's back.

Daemon chuckled. It was kinda obvious that his plans wouldn't be shared so easily when he invited his wife to a dragon ride. The last few days they had spend together, the prince found himself very comfortable in her presence and discovered that he liked being with her. He thought that bringing her to meet their future home and the perfect place to consumate their marriage was a brilliant idea.

They watched the dragons be lead to the dragonpit, and the prince took the lady's hand in his, leading the way towards the castle.

Adjusting the cloak on her body, Y/N shaked a little bit. The castle was settled on the top of a mountain, and it was freezing cold. The south is even hotter than the Crownlands in west coast, and growing up in Sunspear, the capital and one of the warmest cities of Dorne, Y/N thought she could never get used to this kind of weather.

"Are you cold?" Daemon questioned, taking her closer to him and wrapping an arm behind her neck.

"A little, yes. I didn't thought it would be so cold, but it's a beautiful place. It's cloudy, I love it." She smiled. It was different from everywhere she had ever been, but she could definitely see why he loved that place.

The last three days, Daemon couldn't shut up about Dragonstone and how it was his favorite place on earth. He had been on Meereen, Volantis and Essos, but being trapped in a castle on the mountain was his favorite place on earth. He told her what his childhood was like, and showed himself to be real interested to know the same about hers. Y/N thought that perhaps it was too early to share memories with him.

Inside the castle, Daemon took Y/N's gloved hands in his and gave her a little tour. It was an enormous place, and even though it wasn't the kind of thought she wanted right now, her head showed her how perfect that place was to raise a family with Daemon. She wanted that, and it was her duty as a wife, but the non-stop gossip about the prince's mistress around King's Landing was making her feel a little bit insecure about their future. She knows that they need to discuss their relationship, but he seemed to be enjoying spending time with her the last few days, so she never talks about what's bothering her.

"Daemon!" Y/N turned around to the voice behind them.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath. "Mysaria. I thought I told you to leave before my arrival."

The woman laughed humorless. She gazed at the princess from head to toe, narrowing her eyes as doing so. Y/N felt like cutting the woman's head with a sword for looking at her like that.

"Ao dōrī ivestretan issa aōha līve istan kesīr." Y/N turned to her husband, speaking in a language that his mistress couldn't understand. (You never told me your whore would be here.)

"She wasn't supposed to be here. I'll take care of it." He assured her, leaving the princess' side and grabbing Mysaria's arm.

Y/N went for the room at the end of the corridor. It was the biggest room inside the castle, and also it was Daemon's chambers. At first she looked at it with romantic eyes, watching scenarios that they could be living there through the years. But that easily crumbled once she remembered that his mistress had also been here. She knew that this shouldn't matter, he was a man and had his necessities. But she thought about how many women Daemon had brought there, and then she wondered why would he keep that one. One of the rumors around the capital is that he was planning to marry and have children with her, but King Viserys forbid his brother to do so. That was probably true.

She waited for Daemon to come, but then she heard the high pitched sound of Caraxes' roar. Y/N went to the window and saw the Rogue Pince on top of his dragon, with the woman behind him. She couldn't believe that he would leave her. It took a few hours before he was back again.

When he came into the room, he noticed her angry features. Daemon thought she looked really cute, but it was no time for compliments that would make her even more angry.

He broke the ice, knowing she wouldn't say a word before he explained himself. "I already told you, she wasn't supposed to be here."

"Where were you?" The princess questioned.

"You really don't want to know." He said with a little bit of annoyance.

"But I do, Daemon! I thought you left me here!" Y/N replied angrily.

"I would never do that. I took her back to Pentos." He tried to take the princess' hand but she smacked him off.

"What? Essos? You crossed the narrow sea?" Y/N frowned in confusion. She couldn't understand why would him do that.

"She's not here anymore, so it doesn't really matters." Daemon tried to get close but she stepped backwards.

"But it does! Why are we even here!?" Y/N snapped.

"I am the prince of Dragonstone! This is my home, our home! The last thing I want now is to talk about her while we're on the home of our future children!"

Y/N's mouth opened in shock. Now it was time to discuss what kind of relationship they had?

"Children? Daemon, what are you talking about? I don't even know what we have! Until last week I thought you hated the idea of being with me." Y/N chuckled in confusion, making the prince roll his eyes.

"Gods, don't be so fucking dramatic. I happen to like you, that's all. Would you rather I was here with Mysaria, leaving you hanging in the capital all alone?" He questioned.

Y/N clenched her jaw and fist, resisting the urge to punch her husband's royal face.

"What did you just say?" She took a step further, her face was an inch away from his.

"What I meant to say," He started, getting even more close to her where their lips almost touched, "is that I'm trying to start a life with you. We're married, after all."

"But that's not what I heard!" She said harshly.

Daemon's hand grabbed her by the throat, and his body crashed with hers when her back hit the wall behind her. Y/N gasped softly, a little bit astonish by his actions.

"Stop being so tough!" His said between gritted teeth, "Shut your fucking mouth and listen to your husband. That's what good wives do."

She chocked on her own words and pride, nodding to whatever he said, without questioning it. After getting to know the true Daemon Targaryen, she lost all the magic of a perfect prince that her mind created through the years. But now, Y/N couldn't understand why she have never felt so attracted to him. He was being rude and possessive, and somehow that turned her on.

"Why do you always have to act like this when you're with me? It's like you have fun arguing." Daemon whispered, prepping kisses on her neck.

"You're being unfair, we haven't argued in a week." The princess closed her eyes, losing herself to the touch of his soft lips.

"And yet you refuse to open yourself to me." His hands left her throat and went to her jaw, grabbing it tightly. "But not anymore. I shall make you give yourself entirely to me."

"Open your mouth for me, princess," He demanded.

Y/N did as he asked, and the prince bit his lip as he entered with his thumb into her aperture. The girl closed her lips around his finger, and sucked her cheeks, creating a vacuum. She licked his finger and softly bit the tip of it, which made him smirk. Daemon pulled his thumb out and wrapped her throat with his hand.

Daemon pulled her up, intertwining her legs around his waist. He walked through the room and tossed her body on the bed. Y/N watched him taking his clothes off and then getting on top of her.

"You have no idea about the things that I want to do with you, Y/N. The things that I want to make you feel."

Daemon started to go down her body touching her clothed pussy. The princess gasped at his touch and bit her bottom lip. Her nails were deep in the bed sheets and her heart was beating like a drum. His hands assaulted her trousers, until it met her panties' fabric.

"You are so wet, all for me. My good little princess." Daemon praised her in a low voice, while rubbing his thumb against her clothed clit, sending shivers down her body, "Tell me what you want, Y/N, I want to hear you."

The girl never felt something like that before. Her body was screaming to be touched. She craved his hands on her body, craved his mouth on her. She needed him to be fully inside her like she needed air to breathe.

"Please, Daemon" The princess moaned as he made circles with index finger on her clothed clit. "Please, make me yours" She begged.

"See, I don't think you understand, my little sand dragon." He whispered, leaving a soft kiss on her inner thigh after taking her trousers off, "You're already mine. Mine to do whatever the fuck I want."

He took off underwear, leaving her vulva uncovered. Daemon grabbed her waist and brought his face against her intimacy, making her shiver as she felt his cool breath touch the sensitive skin of her core. His thumb found her swollen clit, where he made slow circular moves and she moaned to his touch. The princess' hands brushed against his silver hair as his mouth touched her wet center. He made slow moves with his tongue, sliding it from her entrance to the clit. Y/N bit her lip as she moaned, feeling the ecstasy building inside her like she was about to come at any moment.

"Fuck, Daemon–" She tried to warn him but before she could finish her sentence, she came into in his mouth.

Daemon licked his lips before climbing up her body and fit himself between her legs. He helped her to take of her dress as her breathing was normalizing after the adrenaline. He lowered his boxers, freeing his hard cock from his underwear. He brushed his tip at her slit and fit into it. The girl could feel his length entering her slowly, while his hands found her breasts and squeezed them tightly. She whined to the contact as he began to move his hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. His mouth found her neck where he left kisses and hickeys, and extended it's actions to her chest right after. The Rogue Prince took her hard nipple into his mouth and started sucking on it. She rolled my eyes in pleasure as her nails raked his back. His thrusts started to get faster, making his hips snapped into hers while he moaned against her skin.

"You're so fucking tight, princess," He whispered next to my ear.

Y/N turned their bodies on the bed, placing herself on top of him. She took control and looked at him underneath her, so impotent. The princess grabbed his hands and took them to the top of his head. Daemon started to groan while she was riding him, which sounded like music do her ears. It was enough for her to know she was giving him so much pleasure, moving her hips in different ways and motions, going up and down on his hard cock. For someone who was having sex for the first time, she was experienced. Her father made her take lessons with his whores back in Dorne, preparing her for this moment, where she woud pleasure her prince husband.

"You feel so good inside of me," She moaned into his ear to be provocative.

"You're having a great time, huh? Let me show you who's in command here," He freed himself from her hands and grabbed her hips tightly.

Daemon had his hands on her waist with his thumbs pressing into my sides. He buried his entire cock inside of her cunt, making her take every inch of him. She whined loudly, grabbing his shoulder trying not to lose her balance.

He moved his hips up and down, fucking her hard and going deeper in every thrust. Y/N moaned against his skin, when her mouth met his neck, leaving marks on his collarbone. She felt his thick length hitting her g-spot, making her bit my lip hard not to scream.

"Do you like that Y/N? I know you do. You take my cock so well, it's like you were made for me." He growled while pounding into her.

"I'm gonna cum, Daemon!" She cried out.

"Look at you, my slutty little princess taking me like a whore. I'm gonna cum inside you and make you swollen with my child. I bet you would love that, wouldn't you? You're gonna look so pretty when I make you fucking pregnant." He increased the pressure of his hands on her hips, grabbing it more tightly, where would probably bruise later.

His praisings and degradations were driving her insane. She could feel her second orgasm coming and she knew he was close too. Daemon started to slam himself inside her, making her come on his cock. He growled into her ear and kissed her mouth as he came inside her. Y/N felt him twitching through her walls, filling her with his seed.

She fell by his side and hugged his naked body, placing her head on his toned chest. Daemon gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, and closed his eyes in relaxation. They quickly fell asleep due tiredness.

Her fingers slightly danced through his silver long hair, forming braids with it. She hummed a song, while Daemon played with their 2 year old daughter, Rhaenya. The young girl had curly silver hair, due the princess' Velaryon blood, and lilac eyes like hers and Daemon's. Since she was born, the prince decided to take a break on wars and anything that could risk his life. No one would thought that the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, loved being a parent.

Princess Y/N was 5 months pregnant of her second — and last — child. They came to the conclusion that being in a small family was for the best. In a political statement, they should have as many children as they can, so they can spread the Targaryen line. But, they lived comfortably being in a small family environment, away from the capital, the king and it's dramas, so no one could tell them how to live their lives.

"Emagon ao thought bē brōzāt?" Daemon asked softly, chuckling while Rhaenya played with his nose. (Have you thought about names?)

"Nyke emagon. Skoros bē ao?" Y/N smiled, finishing the fifth braid on his hair. (I have. What about you?)

"Nyke emagon issare otāpagon bē Daemor, isse case ziry iksos nykeā valonqar." Daemon smirked, bitting his daughter chubby cheek and making her yelp. (I have been thinking about Daemor, in case it's a boy.)

"Daemor? Skoros does bona poghash bē ao hae nykeā kepa?" Y/N laughed loudly, which made her child laugh too. Daemon frowned. (Daemor?What does that says about you as father?)

"Kostilus nyke tolī Targārien than nyke rattan naejot sagon. Nyke also thought bē Rhaegor." The prince rolled is eyes to his own sentence. (Perhaps I am more a Targaryen then I liked to be. I also thought about Rhaegor.)

"Nyke raqagon Rhaegor. Lo ziry iksos nykeā hāedar, nyke istan otāpagon bē Daerys." Y/N confessed. (I like Rhaegor. If it's a girl, I was thinking about Daerys.)

"Sir, skoros does bona poghash bē ao hae nykeā muñnykeā?" Daemon said, getting a wicked giggle from his wife. (Now, what does that says about you as a mother?)

"Hae nykeā muñnykeā? Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon. Hae nykeā ābrazȳrys, ziry poghash 'nyke jorrāelagon issa valzȳrys'" She kissed the top of his head, making the prince smile. (As a mother? I don't know. As a wife, it says "I love my husband'.)

"Avy jorrāelan, issa byka rizmon zaldrīzes." He turned around, facing her. (I love you, my little sand dragon.)

Daemon pecked her lips, making her smile even larger. The little girl wiggled her arms, asking for her mother embrace. The princess took the young in her arms and kissed her silver curls.

"Avy jorrāelan tolī." (I love you too.)

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagines #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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butterfly (fade away) │ Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

See my Masterlist for more works!

Please note: this is a ONE-SHOT unrelated to my terms of endearment series.

Synopsis: After their marriage, your older sister Rhaenyra and Uncle Daemon take wardship of you on Dragonstone. You enjoy your time with them - until one night, when everything changes. Nothing will ever be the same again.

Triggers: r*pe/non-con, age gap, purity culture, incest, breeding kink, drugged sex.

You enjoy living with Rhaenyra and Daemon.

At first, you had been very uncertain about the change in your routine. Still grieving the loss of your beloved good-brother Laenor, you – like all others in the Realm – had been utterly shocked by the announcement that your sister had wed your estranged uncle within mere days of his wife’s funeral, of her husband’s horrific death. What had ensued in the immediate aftermath, you know not; only that, near two sennights after the messenger had delivered the news, you had been called to your father’s rooms and informed that you were to be given as a ward to Rhaenyra. You travelled to Dragonstone post-haste.

Rhaenyra and Daemon immediately took a great interest in you, something that both pleased and unnerved you greatly. Your sister had had little time to spare you in the previous ten years, and you could scarcely claim to know your uncle beyond vague recollections of childhood and the stories told across the capital of his numerous exploits. To have both pay such close attention to you now was thrilling and confusing. From lessons in High Valyrian to walks along the beach; from countless requests to break their fast with you to evenings spent in laughter and peaceful drowsing; your time is filled up completely by them.

What might have been stifling to others – the stream of sweet pet names and the knowledge of their eyes fixated upon you and the feel of their hands glancing across your form – brings you a sense of peace, of security. Of love. You have always craved your family’s love; you shall not turn it away now.

It is one such a night that you find yourself in Rhaenyra’s rooms, a cup of wine held loosely in your fingers as you sit curled up on the chaise near the hearth.

“… and, if you would believe it, husband,” your sister is saying archly, “your daughter turned to me and claimed that she could do as she likes, for her father would hardly seek to curb her.”

Daemon chuckles. “Attagirl,” he remarks teasingly, eyes flashing at his wife and smirking as she scoffs in playful reproach. He takes a healthy swig from his own cup. “I’ve taught her well.”

“Baela can be your problem, then, seeing as how this particular trait is one you’ve cultivated so keenly, uncle.”

The room is warm. You are clad in your shift and robe, but even with so few layers the temperature is stifling; you can feel the flush simmering beneath your flesh, hot and clammy, but you cannot bring yourself to move to cooler climes. Truthfully, you do not even know if you are capable of moving. Your limbs feel loose, gelatinous, as though the bones have dissolved and you are naught but skin and muscle suspended in the air.

“Darling? Are you well?” You peer hazily at Rhaenyra, who has seated herself beside you and placed her hand to your forehead. You make an affirmative noise – you are fine, just relaxed. It comes out garbled and incomprehensible, and you frown slightly. She glances to your uncle. “Daemon.”

Another set of fingers introduce themselves to the cup in your grasp, drawing it from you. Daemon’s eyes are dark as he presses the rim of it to your lips, coaxing you wordlessly to finish the contents within. You splutter as the rich, bitter liquid swirls in your mouth, taking small swallows to force it down.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, lips quirking. “Do you feel nice, sweetling?”

It is so warm, but the feeling is lovely. Your eyes flutter shut, the heat lulling you towards a gentle doze.

“Stay awake, sister,” Rhaenyra’s voice floats in the space between you. A cool palm presses itself to your cheek, and you look through blurred vision to see her face a scant few inches from yours. Her breath brushes along your skin as she speaks. “We want to play a game with you. Do you want to play, darling?”

You want to sleep, but she looks so serious. Caught up in the desire to please, you nod, though it is less a coordinated movement and more of a tipping forward. She chuckles breathily as you pitch into her shoulder, tucking your head to the side so that you are staring directly at your uncle. He is impossibly tense, gaze wild and breathing loud, as though he is restraining himself from something. You blink slowly at him.

“Come here,” Rhaenyra whispers, tipping your chin up.

You squeak as her mouth touches against yours in a manner that feels far less chaste than you remember familial kisses being. It is as though you are a marionette and she holds the strings, for you can do nothing else but let her lips glide slickly against yours, her tongue prodding between your teeth and licking into you. You make a weak sound, huffing against her at the twist of strangeness that shivers through you.

“Look at you both,” your uncle murmurs lowly, and you quiver at the sensation of his hand against your neck, brushing your hair from your shoulder and caressing paths along the exposed skin. “My pretty little nieces.”

Something hot and wet maps along the flesh of your throat, and the tickle of hair that is not your own brushes along your cheek. It feels good. You cannot make sense of it, but it feels good. Your belly swoops as you are lifted bodily from the chair, though you can only hang limply from whatever it is that is holding you aloft. The room feels cooler as you move further from the hearth.

You loll listlessly while hands turn you upright and fumble with your clothing, made difficult by the necessity of propping you up – without secure support, you will surely crumple bodily to the floor, a bird with clipped wings.

“Fuck,” Rhaenyra curses, and the vulgarity prompts a choked-off noise from you. She stares stunned and avaricious at you, as though you are the last lemoncake on a near-empty platter. “You’re perfect, aren’t you?”

Confused, you track the path of her stare down to your own form.

“Oh,” you peep. You are naked. When did that happen?

That wet feeling slides along your shoulder again, a rumble vibrating through your skin.

“These tits,” your uncle husks, and those iron bands of warmth at your hips glide up, up, up to cup the swell of your bare breasts, plucking at your nipples and making you cry out. Your head tilts back, overwhelmed. “They’ll look even better filled up.”

“Wha–” you start to say, but you are cut off by the feel of much rougher lips capturing your own, a kiss that is more aggressive and domineering than your sister’s had been. You whine into his mouth, arching subconsciously into the sensation of his fingers playing maddeningly with your nipples, rolling hard peaks between the digits and making you uncomfortable between your legs. “Ah!”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra says urgently, and the world tips around you once more.

When your vision clears, you are on your back and staring up at the canopy of your sister’s bed. You are laying on something soft; you hum, rubbing your fingers along the surface below you, indulging in the pleasantness of it. There are slick sounds coming from a little further away. You can make out the vague forms of your sister and uncle – they might be grappling with each other, you suppose, though you cannot find it within yourself to care. You keep stroking the bed beneath you.

“Legs up,” a discordant voice sounds – a woman – and hands and arms reposition your body without your control. You let them prop your thighs over something, sighing at the feeling of fingers petting along your flesh. A burst of coolness puffs at those forbidden parts of you between your legs, and you wriggle nervously. “How wet this little cunny is.”

You whimper as you watch Rhaenyra’s head disappear between your thighs, and you think it must be her tongue that swipes through the mess that leaks from that part of you that belongs to your future husband. You know not why it is being so sinful now, and you try to tell her that she ought not be touching this spot upon your body. It is for your marriage bed.

She laughs, though it is punctuated by a groan.

“Your sister wants a little playmate for Aegon, poppet,” Daemon interrupts, hunched over your sister’s back and rocking against the side of the bed. His hand fists itself in her hair, shoving her back down into you, and you bleat as her tongue renews its efforts at parting your folds, at swirling through the source of your slick, at prodding something shocky and sensitive at the cusp of your mound. He grins. “But her milk won’t dry up, so she can’t make another babe yet. Don’t you want to be good and help her?”

“I–” You are overwhelmed, dizzy, hot and cold and sick all at the same time. You think you might need to make water, for something is happening below that you do not understand. “I don–”

“You love babes, darling,” Rhaenyra reminds you, voice scratchy and higher than you have ever heard it, jolting oddly at intervals. Her entire body is jerking against yours in tandem with the movements of your uncle at her back. “Don’t you want one of your own? A pretty, sweet thing with your face and uncle’s smile? How lovely it would be.”

She punctuates her statement with a hard lick straight up the split of you, making you shudder.

A babe. You do want one when the time comes. A whole little person just for you, one that you would name Viserys or Aemma or Alyssa or Baelon or Daella. You even have a small collection of items from your childhood you have saved for your future children – for one day. Not today. You try to press these thoughts out through your mouth, but the sounds will not form into words.

Your uncle chuckles, lurching more frantically against Rhaenyra, so much so that you shake from the tips of your breasts to the heels of your feet, tensing and vibrating between your legs. Your sister vocalises into your – your cunny – licking and suckling and even nipping with sharp teeth, a feeling that should not feel so good but does.

Something pops there, and you yelp as the intensity barrels through your spine and locks your toes into a curl, your blood thundering through your veins.

“Well done,” Daemon praises, grasping Rhaenyra by the hips and dragging her up. You realise with dim shock that he is coupling with her right in front of you, that it is far quicker-paced and rougher than you had ever thought it like to be. Her breathy ‘ah ah ah’ sounds seem to suggest she enjoys it. “Get that cunt nice and soaked for my cock, little girl. I’ll get to you in a moment.”

You watch as he reaches below her body and makes some kind of movement that sets her howling, jerking fully in his hold before slumping with her head on your belly, panting heavily. He steps back, and she laves along your navel mindlessly for a few moments before rolling to the side, shuffling up to lay beside you.

“Wh’ – Rh’nyra?” you slur, the vowels in your speech lost in the effort it takes to force each noise to fruition. She laughs, capturing your jaw in her hand and leading your face to hers. “’m – c’nfused,” you whimper into her mouth.

“Shh,” she soothes, tugging your knee up to your chest and holding it there, tracing lines across your lips with her tongue.

You can taste something earthy and piquant in her mouth – your own filthiness from below, from before – and rather than make you cringe, you release a shaky sound, stomach curled up so tightly you cannot tell if it is desire or nausea that drives you. She swallows it all, coaxes your lips to pucker and chase and dance with hers, silken hungry sounds that throb low in your belly. A weight settles on the bed beside your outstretched leg, in the hollow between your thighs, and you tremble at the calloused fingers that nudge into your folds.

“Fucking hells,” Daemon grunts, fondling the spread petals of your cunny, pinching the pearl of sensation at the top of your womanhood. “You’re dripping. Knew you wanted this, you little slut – just had to get you relaxed enough to do away with that damned courtesy of yours.”

You let out a tiny sob as the mortification washes through your addled mind, trying to twist away from his touch. Rhaenyra shushes you again.

“It’s alright, darling,” she reassures, kissing against your slack mouth. Your foot kicks in mid-air when something hot and hard and far too thick follows the path your uncle’s fingers made, jabbing threateningly against the place built to yield to men. “Uncle’s going to give you a babe now, isn’t that nice?”

“No,” you lament, attempting to lurch to the side, to roll to your belly and drag yourself away. But Rhaenyra has you hooked under her arm and Daemon has you pressed against the bed, raised up over you with his hand fumbling ominously between your parted legs. You are a butterfly, fluttering helplessly in spite of the pins that promise to shackle you down until your fight fades away. “No, no, no no no nonono–”

The white-hot poker shoved straight through you steals the sound from your chest and the breath from your very lungs. It is too much, too much, and you fear you might die from it even as your uncle lets out a base, animal groan above you. Your eyes fill with tears, blurring the shape of him into abstract washes of colour – silver, violet, pale, the crimson of the canopy.

“How does she feel?”

“Fff – fucking tight, gods–”

“Don’t spend yet, Daemon – poor thing, look at her–”

“Come here, sweetling,” Daemon croons, flattening himself against you so that he can lick into the open gape of your mouth, tangle his tongue with your own unresponsive one and work you into a tentative rhythm. You cry into him, you cannot help it, and when he pulls away his face is wet with your tears and the run from your nose. “It’s alright. The worst is over.”

“Hurts,” you hiccup, unable to do anything but lay there. You weep as he withdraws and pushes back in, spreading salt across a raw wound, grinding himself through your freshly-broken-in core. “St – sto–”

“Don’t be ungrateful,” Rhaenyra chides, turning your head back to her. Her expression is gentle, sympathetic as it is disapproving, and it makes you want to bury yourself in her arms and let her comfort you, to sink into the role of a nursling at the breast and be lulled by the hum of a lullaby and the soft contentment of a mother’s love.

I want my mother, you think desperately, unsure of whom you even mean – if you refer to Aemma, or Alicent, or even this sister before you who lays back and lets her husband defile you. I want my mother.

“It won’t hurt for long,” she adds. “Besides, uncle’s been very patient; he deserves a reward.”

“I have been, haven’t I?” he agrees, tipping your hips up and driving down into you, punching little yips from you with each thrust. His eyes gleam almost maniacal in the low light, the mad triumph of a man willing to commit countless atrocities to get his way. “Wanted to fuck you since I saw you on Driftmark - that ridiculous high-necked dress you were wearing, fuck - but your sister had the better idea. Get rid of Laenor, wed each other, then steal you out from under my idiot brother’s nose.”

Your mind is awash with horror even as your body gives way to the pain and lets pleasure take over, each strike of his hips against yours pulsing shudder-hot through your rippling walls and pulling you along the current to bliss once more. You hate it – hate the way you have become a whore in the bed of your sister and uncle, that you are finding enjoyment in the arms of those who would confess to murdering someone so dear to you simply because he was in the way of their covetous ambition.

Did they ever really love you?

Their attentions make sense in the worst of ways. Of course, they had no regard for you – they wanted your body, and now they have it. You are ruined, spoiled, and if you were in your right mind you might fear what will become of you now that your maidenhead has been stolen.

“Feels good now, doesn’t it?” Rhaenyra laughs, and it takes you a moment to realise that those high-pitched whimpers you can hear are in fact coming from you. “Uncle has the best cock. You’re a lucky girl.”

“You say the sweetest things, wife,” Daemon responds sardonically, and Rhaenyra leans up to kiss him. It is shocking, lewd, filthy, and yet you cannot turn away from the sight of them moaning into each other’s mouths. He does not stop his hips rocking into yours, the thud of his appendage sharp and burning against the very end of you. The slick sounds of slapping flesh make spots appear in your vision, exciting and sickening all at once. “Give her a kiss. I want to see my nieces playing together.”

She grins saucily as she bends back down to follow his command. You sink into her touch, allowing the feel and taste of her lips to banish the disjointed cacophony in your mind. A slender finger trails down your belly and catches your pearl, swirling deep circles into the tissue that make you mewl and pant.

“Are you going to peak for me, darling?” Rhaenyra says against your mouth excitedly. You keep your eyes shut, not wanting to see the victory that no doubt paints her countenance, the smug demeanour of a princess whose every whim is catered to. “I want to see you come on Uncle’s cock – go on.”

It is not until she moves to take your nipple in her mouth and suckle hard that you break, a fresh wave of sobs punctuating the attainment of that pure, unadulterated bliss, a raw nerve laid bare and bullied to satisfaction even through pain and torment. You choke on air as Daemon drives you through the end of it, grunting and groaning atop you at the clench of you around him. He sinks his teeth into your throat, pinning you down with the threat of clasping his jaw into your flesh should you attempt to bolt. It is not as though you are capable of it; whatever they had put in your wine has made you dull and slow and stupid.

“Yes,” he hisses, slurred and muffled through his teeth. He pumps harder, the bed creaking with the sheer strength of his onslaught. “This little cunt-”

It hurts now. Anything pleasurable about the feel of his body in yours has dissipated, leaving only the awareness of scraping wounds and too-stretched muscles forced to contort in unnatural positions. But you are a prisoner within your own body, caged in your own head and forced to take everything he will give you. You bite your lip so hard that you can taste blood, and you let the metallic warmth fill your palate.

He spills with an echoing growl into your skin, harsh punching jabs deep inside you that shove his seed right up against your womb, right where you want it least of all. You want a child, but not like this. Not here, not now.

“Fuck,” he pants against your shoulder, finally stilling. You stare up at the canopy, at the still silence of the fabric draped high above you. “Gods, that was fun.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

You try to block it out, but you cannot escape the sound of their conversation. Taking you against your will is fun? The casual disregard with which they treat you sinks into your bones, a scar that settles so deep within you that none will ever unearth it. And nor can anyone heal it.

“Don’t cry, precious,” your uncle coos, extracting himself from you with a hiss and dotting gentle pecks beneath your eyes. He collapses beside you, drawing you into his chest – you have no choice but to follow, limbs loose and uncooperative with the concoction they had dosed you with. “You were a very good girl.”

You are ruined, now.

“No,” Rhaenyra says, and you realise you must have said it out loud. She settles behind you, chin tucked to your shoulder and palm stroking softly over your belly. She smells like home, and it makes you ill. “You did exactly what you were meant to. I’m sorry we had to trick you, but this was the only way to make sure we could marry. Don’t you see, darling? Now we can all be happy.”

Happy. Can you ever feel happy again? Your hands are loose fists against Daemon’s chest, primed to strike but unable to garner the vigour to carry through. He kisses the top of your head. You do not feel warm anymore.

“My two little wives,” your uncle hums, petting Rhaenyra’s hip and sliding to yours. She giggles, muttering some agreement.

A pinned butterfly, fluttering helplessly and shackled down.

You close your eyes, and your fight fades away.

Read it on AO3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44969953

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last-ofthe-starks · 2 years

Text

HOTD Episode 7 Thoughts and Easter Eggs

Shoutout to Daemon’s helmet in the opening credits and now flowing into Rhaenerya’s symbol. Credits move so fast it is hard to catch things within it.

Opening with this scene is heartbreaking but I enjoyed not having a huge time jump this episode. Also Rhaena being held by Rhaenys is a great way to show that in the ten years time they were apart, they must have still spent time with one another because they are close.

Otto with that stupid pin pisses me right off, but to me seeing them zoom right in on that pin on his chest is to emphasize just how easily Otto was able to become HAND OF THE KING - arguably the most important role in court someone could have - and the man who banished him for being a snake and untrustworthy has somehow allowed him to return to court. (Also, you can see that he bites/picks his nails like Alicent). Say what you want about his health, but if Viserys were a strong man (like Daemon has always said), this would never have even been entertained, and yet here we are.

Daemon is losing it during the funeral while Vaemond Velaryon is speaking, and rightfully so. The poor guy sees through all the falsities and knows that every person involved in the throne is playing the same game. Low blow from the Verlaryon’s to say their true blood runs thick and may never run thin while looking right at Rhaenyra. This episode really drove home the point that Rhaenyra is at the very end of her rope with trying to claim her children are not the children of Harwin Strong. It is becoming impossible for her father to defend her against the opinions of the public.

They mention the Merling King during the eulogy - this is the God who rules over the Narrow Sea. That is obviously a book reference, and in the house Velaryon, it is believed that Driftwood Throne was a gift from the Merlin King to their family to conclude a pact.

The opening scene following the funeral with the dragons flying together again over Driftmark is fairly symbolic; we know that by the end of the episode they will never all be together again harmoniously.

Alicent knows what’s up as soon as she sees Rhaenyra and Daemon in the same area. I like how they shot the scene with everyone on the patio area because you can feel how awkward it is, with all the tiny pockets of people and hardly anyone talking. It’s also a great visual tool to show how isolated Daemon continues to be. When Viserys’ finally does speak with him, you can see that it is too little too late. I think you can tell that Viserys regrets not making a greater effort to keep him around - Daemon warned Viserys of all of this happening in the very first episode. Additionally, having Rhaenyra walking in the background of the crowd watching the two brothers speak again with a nervous look on her face is a great parallel to the wedding episode, when Viserys was watching her and Daemon.

It is incredibly telling that no one is consoling or even talking to the widowed husband, and in a later scene with Rhaenys calling Daemon self serving (fact), we understand that the people of Driftmark likely share her same sentiments. In the books, it is said that everyone on both sides were angry when Daemon and Laena wed behind everyone’s back and ran away to Pentos. Surely his reputation is even more tarnished with her now dying and not being at home to big birth.

Watching the dynamics of all these kids being circled around for so long is very important foshadowing for how they will all be interacting in the future. I actually really like the actors, they are doing a great job and each one of them is really able to say so much about their character without having much dialogue or extended screen time. Shout out to the writers for managing to achieve that, it is no small feat.

Jace is such a sweetie pie, and now that he knows his father was Harwin, it makes it all the more sad watching him trying to mourn a man when he is not allowed to. Rhaenyra is such a good mom and you can see that she is emotionally a very nurturing and caring parent to her children. It’s such a shame Alicent doesn’t learn a thing or two from her.

Having Daemon and Laena’s girls Baela and Rhaena reach out their hands to Jace is so sweet. In the books it made it seem like Daemon and Rhaenyra saw quite a lot of each other, with Rhaenyra becoming quite close with Laena, but in the show it’s implied that these cousins would hardly know one another. It is clear in this one act that they trust one another and feel like they can be vulnerable with each other. This is reinforced when the girls go get Jace first after Vhagar is stolen, and when the boys defend them against Aemond.

Lucerys’ conversation with Corlys was so sad, about Jace becoming king and Luke would inherit Driftmark. It reminds us all that there is so much already riding on all of these kids shoulders. For Luke to respond in such an innocent way that only a young kid can really puts it all back into perspective. Combine that with Aegon getting drunk and behaving like a teenager yet again, and you can see how if left to their own devices, these kids would have likely been friends and lived contented lives.

Helaena being married off to her brother Aegon is true to the book, but seeing Aemond wishing Alicent had betrothed her to him is a new twist. Last week Rhaenyra tried to marry her to Jace to strengthen the family bond and Alicent refused. Alicent was married off as a political move as well, and had completely rejected the notion of Targaryen’s marrying within the family when she was younger. We see now that as an adult, she will truly do anything to prevent Rhaenyra’s claim be stronger than her children’s.

Helaena predicted Aemond losing an eye last episode, and in the short scene we get with her she makes mention of “weaving Dragons with thread”, which could be her foreseeing Daemon and Rhaenyra’s wedding.

Viserys calling Alicent Aemma!!!!!

Like I mentioned earlier, Rhaenys’ clear disdain for Daemon is just the tip of the iceberg. She has clearly been harboring resentment towards Corlys for putting their family at risk, which she warned him about at the very beginning of the show. For a man so hell bent on revenge over men who didn’t listen to his wife, he sure does not listen to his wife a lot. She also cannot look Rhaenya in the eye in this episode, so it is clear that she is deeply disappointed by both sides of her family and it ultimately costs her both of her children. The Targaryens have taken everything from her, so I can’t wait to see how next week plays out with her.

“History does not remember blood, it remembers names.” What a line. Sadly, if Corlys were to take Rhaenys’ suggestion to heart and name Baela and Rhaeyna, they would eventually get married and lose the Verlaryon name. Corlys knows this, and even though the boys do not have his blood, it is his name he values more.

Rhaenyra confirming that her and Laenor tried to have a kid is a big deal my friends!

Harrens Curse - Rhaenyra mentions this and it is a reference to Black Harren. A lot of owners of the land ended up dying by violent means, and Larys made mention of this in last weeks episode as well.

“we were happy enough” - what a loaded statement. “I’m no longer a child” - also a loaded statement. In their relationship she is clearly the one running the show.

Aemond going after Vhaegar and claiming her to ride - what a scene to showcase just how big she is. you can tell that she smells him and for whatever reason, allows him to ride her. I know that is bad news bears but still a very cool scene. To see someone ride a dragon for the first time again like Jon Snow was so cool and well done, especially considering her size and that back then they actually rode them like horses. In the books, Viserys told Aemond that he would bring him to Dragonstone after the funeral so he could pick a hatchling but he takes matters into his own hands. Vhagar was originally owned by one of Aegon’s sister wives, Visenya.

Lykiri is a word in High Valyrian used to calm dragons down.

AEMOND IS SUCH A DICK, wow he becomes an awfully cocky bastard once he has a dragon. And then to throw is brother under the bus so easily, you can feel the resentment in him. This fight between the kids is also slightly different than how it was told in Fire and Blood. In the book, Joffrey sees Aemond sneaking out of the castle. Aemond kicks him into a pile of dragon poo so that he will stay quiet, In the show, we didn’t see Joffrey, and instead it was Baela and Rhaeyna were the ones to see him take Vhagar.

Poor Viserys, my man, he just wants peace and his people refuse to let him have it. But at the same point in time, he is really (to take a quote from Outlander) sailing on a ship made entirely of paper at this point, and everyone can see through it but ultimately because he is King it is the only thing maintaining Rhaenyra’s entire life and social standing. There is an obvious inequality between the family. Every law he puts into place ends up having the Streisand effect.

Alicent freaking out was actually an incredible scene, I knew what was going to happen and my heart was still pounding. Her fall from grace has been huge and the standoff in the center of the room was incredible. The dagger is emphasized a lot in this scene, so I hope to god they somehow make season 8 makes sense with this damn show. Also Criston Cole smirking, I wanted to smack his smug face.

Thank god Daemon actually stepped in to protect Rhaenyra this time unlike episode 5, but I think it’s telling that he blocks Criston instead of going for Alicent. To me, I think he knows Rhaenyra is strong enough to protect herself, and always has.

Otto being proud of Alicent is even more insight into how big of a scumbag he is. Him saying Aemond’s eye was a thousand times worth the price he paid was insight enough into just how far they will go to win. At the beginning of her conversation with Daemon, Rhaenyra says Alicent is not capable of cold murder, but now she can see the true face of her enemy.

Laenor being MIA mourning his sister for most of this episode is so sad. It really is so difficult a position he is in. And thankfully Rhaenyra does truly care for him and recognizes that he is a wonderful person and honorable man. That said, you can see the disappointment in her face when Laenor recommits himself to her. Daemon’s return is breathing new life into her and giving her the strength she needed to fight back, something Laenor will never be able to give her. This scene is very successful because at the end of the episode for a moment, you can believe Rhaenyra would have been willing sacrifice him to get what she wants.

“Fire is a prison, the sea offers and escape.” At first I was unsure how or why Rhaenyra was saying this in reference to her and Daemon, because the sea being her escape isn't an option if she kills Laenor. But after the episode ended, the idea that Rhaenyra knows her and Daemon’s fate’s are tied to their Targaryen blood, but Laenor has an escape if they give it to him is very clear. Another great line from this episode.

Rhaenya and Daemon speaking to one another again in High Valerian - and it is Rhaenyra asking Daemon to marry her again. Girl really has it bad. Rhaenyra has been depicted as an overall honorable person thus far, staying in her lane in court and despite sleeping with Harwin and siring bastards, the new context we gain this episode that she and Laenor did in fact try to have kids makes her situation more sympathetic. They tried, and couldn’t. That says something about her character that previous episodes denied.

When Daemon and Rhaenyra begin talking about marriage and needing Laenor to be dead in order to do so, I immediately was sad. Having Daemon do her dirty work and implying that upon Daemon’s return she would be willing to betray the only other family she has ever had when Laenor did nothing wrong, it would have been very Game of Thrones and I would have been very disappointed. This was all masterfully shot; juxtaposing the audio of their plotting with the scene of their wedding with their kids watching made them seem incredibly selfish, then having it all take place RIGHT after Lenore’s implied death rather than six month after the fact like the book implied is just crazy, honestly. And then you TWIST IT ALL and you see Laenor and his lover leaving together and my faith in Rhaenya and Daemon is restored once again and DAMN what a way to end the episode. But, no one else will ever know they did that, and it will paint them in an incredibly ugly light. For Daemon that is a strength, but Rhaenyra has never had to live with that shadow of darkness.

When they get married they cut their lips and hands with dragon glass! And Rhaenyra touched his chin like she had in the brothel again! We love a good parallel and continuity.

John MacMillan was good in all his scenes this episode, but to see how tormented he was with Rhaenyra when he promises to be a husband to her now...so well portrayed. She knows he is not a strong enough husband for the fight to come, and loves him enough to set him free. I wish we were able to see the conversation between Rhaenyra and Laenor (and likely Daemon) and be able to know his reaction because when you think about it, they gave him and incredibly selfless gift.

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anangelwhodidntfall · 1 year

Text

I Don’t Want Her, I Want You: Daemon Targaryen

House of The Dragon Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

description: Alicent hates that you have captured the attention of Daemon, and does everything in her power to tear you two apart, while Daemon assures you that you are the one he wants not Alicent.

No one including Alicent understood what Daemon saw in you...one of Rhaenerya lady's in waiting. At one point in time, you had all been the bestest of friends and now the three of you were practically strangers well not you and Rhaenerya, the two of you were never seen without each other. The two of you had been speaking with some lord who was a family friend of Rhaenerya's when Alicent had inserted herself into the conversation.

"Princess your father is requesting a word with you." Ser Harwin said.

"I'll be right back." Rhanerya said squeezing your hand with a smile before leaving.

It was awkward after Rhaenrya left between you and Alicent, so you had excused yourself and made your way off somewhere quiet to relax until Rhaenerya came back. You found a quiet bench in the gardens and started reading one of the books, you picked up at the market earlier.

"There you are sunshine. I've been looking for you." Daemon said making you look up from your book with a smile.

"You have? What do I owe the honor of Prince Daemon seeking me out?" You asked him as he stood in front of you.

"You know I enjoy your company Sunshine, in fact I got you something." He said reaching into pockets and fishing something out.

"Daemon it's...beautiful. You didn't have to get me this." You said looking up at him.

"Of course I did. You are my sunshine after all, and now everyone will know it." He said to you.

"Will you put it on me? Please?" You asked him moving your hair.

"Of course." He said placing the necklace around your neck and securing it with a smile.

Alicent saw daemon disappear and noticed he hadn't returned and went to go find him. She was walking through the gardens when she heard laughter and that's when she saw you and Dameon smiling and laughing with each other making her green eyed. She hated that she was set to wed Viserys and not to Daemon her childhood crush and she needed a way to rid of you.

A few days later, their would be a celebration for something you weren't quiet sure and neither was Rhaenrya but still you two loved the aspect of getting dressed up and dancing the night away. You weren't sure what you were going to wear yet but knew how you wanted to do Rhaeneryas hair, so you both venutred out to the markets to pick up a few items.

"So are you and my uncle gonna share a dance tonight?" Rhaenerya asked.

"I would like too but I'm not holding my breathe, I'm sure there is someone else he rather dance with." You said toying with pendant he gave a few days ago.

"And that pendant he gave you says otherwise. Do give him a chance won't you?" She asked you as you nodded your head considering her words.

When the two of you arrived back to her room, she found a box addressed to you sitting on her bed, because whoever sent probably knew you would be here with her today. You untied the box and saw the most beautiful yellow dress sitting in there with a matching headpiece to go with it.

"Sunshine I can't wait to see you in this tonight, and hopefully share a dance with you-Daemon."

"And you said that he would have someone else to dance with." Rhanerya said as tried to fight the smile on your face unaware that Alicent was outside the door and saw everything as the maids came in and out to help Rhanerya get ready.

You were begging to think that Daemon changed his mind about showing up to this ball and having a dance with you, because had been nearly a couple of hours and there was no sign of the silver haired prince. You and Rhaenerya had danced together most of the night and even you and Ser Harwin shared a dance, but it still didn't feel that void. You were currently dancing with Rhaenerya when your eyes landed on something that you couldn't believe was happening.

"What is it?" Rhanerya asked following your eyesight to where Daemon and Alicent who was dressed similar to you were standing and kissing.

"What the..?" Rhanerya asked seeing it happen for herself as Dameon eyes landed on yours.

"Sunshine wait!" Daemon called out and started making his way over towards you.

"I'm such a idiot." You said pushing through the crowd hoping to put some distance between you and Daemon, as Alicent stood there smirking.

"Sunshine please!" You heard behind you as you continued to push your away through the crowd.

You eventually found your the way outside and it seemed like you had lost had lost Daemon, which you were grateful for. You felt so stupid for even thinking for a second that Daemon felt the same way and that you were the only he was pursing.

"Sunshine." Daemon said quietly approaching you.

"It's alright Daemon you don't have to explain. I understand everything I just feel stupid for thinking that you wanted me too." You said still not looking at him as the tears slide down your face.

"Sunshine I don't want her, I want you! I'm absolutely crazy about you, and I don't want anyone else but you." Dameon said turning you towards him.

"You do?" You asked shocked.

"I do, this night was supposed to go alot differently than it is, I knew of Alicent little crush on me growing up but never thought it would get so bad that she would literally force herself on me or try and copy your dress." He said holding your hands.

"Me neither. I'm sorry I over.." You started to say but he shushed you.

"No need to apologize, I should be the one apologizing for putting myself in that position." He said squeezing your hands a bit.

"It's alright. I do believe you promised me a dance tonight my prince." You said to him.

"I did, didn't I? Well let's have that dance, and must I say that dance looks way beautiful on you than her." He said to you as you two started to dance.

"Thank you, I absolutely love it and you." You said to him with a smile on your face.

"I'm glad but I love you more." He said pressing a kiss to your lips as you two continued to dance.

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff

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targaryen-dynasty · 3 months

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DAEMYRA ICONS.

These are just a few, because I’m still looking for the perfect pictures to use. You know the drill: these are just examples, and if you want to have the background changed to a different color, just leave me a message 🤭

The hex color code for the red is #7D2227

#daemyra #daemon and rhaenyra #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x daemon #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon icons #daemon targaryen icons #rhaenyra targaryen icons #hotd icons #icons

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dragon-queen-rhaenyra · 2 years

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Just imagine that Criston’s replying to Rhaenyra in his first message 💀

#targaryens twitter drama #house of the dragon #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #hotd #hotd spoilers #hotd meme #house of the dragon ep 4 #criston cole #rogue prince #realm’s delight #got #game of thrones #daemyra #daenyra

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the-djarin-clan · 2 years

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Watching House of the Dragon every Sunday religiously because of the plot.

the plot:

#daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hbo max #hotd #matt smith #rhaenyra targaryen

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themotherofblood · 11 months

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Want A Drink?

Vampire!Daemon x Reader x Vampire!Rhaenyra

masterlist | Bloody Baby Series | Vampire AU

synopsis: Rhaenyra finds a doe eyed thing for her and Daemon to drink from, however she has a bad habit of playing with food.

warnings: dub-con? Kinda non-con? Feeding, blood drinking. threesome, oral (F), riding, compulsion.

a/n: I will take requests for this series :)

A masterful event, truly. The rooms of this old castle filled with enough free booze, loosened inhibitions and stumbling younglings draped in what they would consider cool clothing. This was a rather fun way to hunt, the days of random strangers in the forests had long dwindled decades before, this, this was chique - a classic way of finding a pretty someone to feed on and a hell of an excuse for party.

Rhaenyra, leaned against one of the many high tables, her senses working to find the one, if there was one. She shook her head, watching Daemon stumble and dance along with one the many girls that were fawning over him. Even with the wedding band glinting on his ring finger, these young broads didn’t care. Hands in the air as he moved to the beats - if only they knew what he was.

You tore through the thick crowd, all smiles and huffs as you came to rest your head on the table Rhaenyra stood by. The air so thick within, you needed to pull away for a minute. The smell even beyond the sweat and the booze, she could smell you. Even more so hear the running blood under your skin, lavender? No jasmine, that’s what you smelled of. You took deep breaths, trying to find air within the thick ambience of this room. You couldn’t - tequila, it had to be the tequila making you feel this way.

“You doing alright, love?” Rhaenyra’s voice boomed over the music in front of you.

You looked up, confused and a little dazed. Gosh, she’s so pretty you thought dumbfounded “I- yeah, it’s hot in here,” you replied, you looked up once more trying to breathe through your mouth this time as you lift your hair in your palm to ease away the heat.

“Come with me,” this time you hadn’t realized that she came to stand next to you, her frame towering over your as you came to stand straight. You looked back to where your friend was dancing with her boyfriend, just go, you nodded, taking her hand as she led you outside the grand room.

You mindlessly followed her, such naivety - crawling along with her to the monster’s den. She led you to a balcony, the crisp air of the night prickling goosebumps against your skin as you took yet another deep breath before your lungs fully let your chest to clear. You leaned against the balcony columns. Below in the courtyard, people stumbled over to trimmed shrubs, chatters and giggles echoed with the muffled thud of the music with every door opening and closing.

You giggled, shaking your head as it turned to chuckle. You had forgotten about the pretty woman still standing against the other column. She looked at you quizzically, what sweet sounds the corners of her lips up turned, wondering what intoxicated thought had you musing so. “What’s so funny?”

“This palace,” you coughed to halt your giggles “whatever fat lord had this made, I doubt he envisioned rowdy peasants fornicating in its bushes.” you laughed one more, pressing a hand to your belly.

“I’m sure he had many debauched plans, sweetheart.” Rhaenyra smiled, this time approaching you. Her little words of endearment didn’t go amiss as your cheeks flushed.

“He had three wives,” you blurted, the only thing you could do under the intimidating gaze of her purple contacts.

Rhaenyra’s brows waggled, she looked curious, a little knowing. “history student, are you?” She tucked a piece of your loose hair behind you ear.

“Hobby really,” you shook your head, feeling sandwiched between the marble column and this - this angelic lady dressed in maroon.

“What else do you know,” she whispered, her thumb still grazing over your cheek.

“There lived a Queen here, once, with her husband and his three wives,” your breath hitched as she grew closer “he died for her and she died in grief.”

“How terrible,” Rhaenyra murmured, you’re so pretty your mind began to scream so loudly that your actually said it. She pulled back looking amused, her thank you?

She finally closed the space between the two of you, one hand snaking around the small of your waist as the other held you cheek. The smell of vanilla and wood was hit against your nose as her lips moulded against yours. You squeaked into the kiss, frozen for a moment until you gave in. Letting her lips melt your to putty in her hands as she explored your mouth. Breathe, breathe - so overwhelming as you gasped breaths of air within the short pause.

“Enjoying without me, my love?” A man’s voice tore you away from the daze Rhaenyra was lulling you into.

A man with silver hair stood leaning against the glass paned balcony door, his cream shirt unbutton to his sternum, “Isn’t she just a beauty, Daemon,” Rhaenyra chides, before pecking your lips once more.

You looked between both of them confused, were you a home wrecker now? “I’m sorry- I- I didn’t know you were married,” you said eyeing the ring on the woman’s finger.

“Shh- sh It’s alright, Daemon doesn’t mind. Do you honey?” She began nipping at the expanse of your neck.

“My…you really are pretty,” Daemon said approaching you. Your mind seemed to have been in a trance, the way they looked at you, smelled, the hold of their fingers in each wrist.

“You are going to be a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Daemon asked, his thumb grazing your lip. it felt like a demand, your on consciousness slipping. You nodded, letting his thumb push in as your suckled around it.

You were in and out after that, but mostly you were warm. So very warm, perhaps it was the giant fireplace in their bedroom, the only warm yellow light of the room. There were spurts your remembered.

“Such a good girl,” Rhaenyra moaned as you kneeled between her legs, lapping away at her cunt with your nose pressed up against her clit as she rolled her hips against your tongue “just like that.” Daemon’s grip on your hair was tight as he kept your face against his wife’s pussy, admiring the scrunched look on her face you licked away at her needy bundle of nerves.

The mere moments of lucidity passed once more as your mind dwindled to the warmth, the next you were straddled and Daemon’s hip. His cock deep within you as you rolled your hip and bounced on his cock, “can we keep her? I want to keep her?” Daemon groaned, feeling the vice grip of your cunt milking him.

“Hmm, she would make a fine pet. Look at her.” Rhaenyra whispered from behind you, she hands pinching and rolling your nipples in between her finger as you pleasures her husband.

You felt her pressing kisses onto your neck as you weight fell back against her, exhausted and wanting as Daemon yet agains began rubbing your clit, hood pulled back as he flicked against the reddened bud. You felt a sharp graze, maybe the woman’s fingernails. You whimpered, dazed as your felt the warmth in your belly stir, you were close and all three of you knew it. Daemon thrusted his hips upwards, his fingers unrelenting as you played with your bundle of nerves “that’s it darling, come for him.”

Rhaenyra sounded desperate, her eyes blown as she watched Daemon face scrunch up. She was hungry, she wanted to taste you against the blood rush. You squealed once more, a moan stuck at the back of your throat and Rhaenyra gave in. Sinking her fangs into your jugular and moaning when the thick crimson liquid hit her tongue. Blood dripped from the opened wound down your torso as you thrashed against their tight holding. The initial scream still ringing in your ears as you felt Daemon’s tongue flatten on your sternum and lick up the dripping blood. The fear has blown your eyes wide, tears polling around them.

Your heart thudding as you tried to fight against them, barely making any headway “Shh- you’re alright,” Daemon wiped at your tears, his eyes dilated and then calm, your heart was no longer thudding “you are safe.”

“I am safe,” you mumbled as Daemon lifted your wrist to his mouth before he too sunk his teeth in deep.

When you woke up next morning, messed hair and aching in a soft (too soft) bed, one unlikely to be yours. You groaned pulling yourself up, a gentle sting running down your body as you took in the silk pink nightgown your body was dressed in. Your mind wavered for moment until it focused in on their faces, the silver woman and her husband Da- Daemon. Your friends would surely freak out when they find out you fucked two people in one night. Your fingers grazed at your lip and then it all came crashing back.

Teeth, your neck. The bandaging on your wrists, heart thudding against your heart, praying that perhaps it had been a bad dream. You stopped at the giant body length mirror, multiple bite marks down your thighs and legs. One on each side of your neck, what the fuck, you winced ripping the bandage from your wrists. Yellowing bruise and two distinct wounds sunken into you skin, still bleeding. You had to get out of here, you had no idea where your phone or your clothes were but all you did was run.

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat in their dinning room, the cleaners already having returned their palace to its pristine nature. They looked rather pleased with themselves and the events that took place last night. “We should have dried her out,” Daemon groaned, eyes fixated on his glass of scotch.

“We should have,” Rhaenyra agreed, “we could just keep her.” she repeated Daemon’s words from the night before. It had been nearly a century since they shared a companion together. The end wasn’t so pretty for the last one but perhaps this time it would be different, Rhaenyra had become far more capable at curbing her blood thirst.

Daemon dryly chuckled “What? Should we just ask her to be our human blood bag?” A stale joke since they had much other plans to be within your company. You were far too warm, to sweet to let go. “Looks like Ms Blood bag is awake.” Daemon notes the distinct sound of footsteps hurrying along the grand staircase. He downed his cup of scotch before signing.

You were running, unsure which way to go at first but the hallways were organized enough to lead your straight to the enterance. Barefoot and naked another this flimsy night gown, you didn’t care you just ran. Just as you were about to reach the main door and push past it. You crashed into a hard body, stood looking unimpressed at your little attempt at escape. You screamed as he held onto you.

“No! No no- please let me go.” You yelled “Let me go!”

Daemon just stood there, hoping your outburst would heel on it’s on, unwanting to compel you once more. He needed the fear to subside on its on. Rhaenyra walked along calmly from the dinning room to the enterance, watching your frame thrash as your screams echoed through the palace. Daemon sunk to the floor, trying to shush you but looking extremely irk. Rhaenyra bent to your level as she pushed your hair away from your face. She too didn’t want to compel this away.

“Please, please don’t kill me,” you begged “I’ve barely lived.” Tears fell past your eyes that she wiped away.

“We don’t want to kill you, darling.” She hummed.

“No?” You whimpered, confused at her soft demeanour.

“We want you to be ours.”

I’m thinking of making this a Dark! AU, like eventual Stockholm Syndrome kicks in vibes and maybe she is actually happy. I will take requests for this AU right now. So if you have any ideas with Ms Blood Bag and Daemyra don’t me afraid to send a request ;)

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :)

#daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemyra vampire au #vampire au #daemyra x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon smut

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jamilelucato · 2 years

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the house of red and black

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!reader

a/n: so there is this scene from gilmore girls that's trending on TikTok and I fully wanted to make a fic out of it. So here it is.

one shot: yes, but I can write for Daemon again

sad: yes very much, but it is really short!

summary: liking someone that doesn't like you back is hard, even when you are a princess and a Targaryen.

“What is that all about?”

You heard his voice before you saw his face. You felt a shiver through your spine as you turn, to find Daemon descending the stairs, rushing to your side.

“Why did you call off the engagement with Aegon?”

You stared at Daemon, not sure why he cared. Aegon was your brother, but not only that — he was also the “rightful male” heir to the Throne. No woman in the kingdom would've back off from marrying Aegon Targaryen. Except maybe the Targaryen yourself.

“Why does it bother you?” you asked, grabbing the skirt of your dress and turning around, trying to get away from Daemon. He was your uncle on your father's side, as you were the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen and the last child of the late Queen Aemma.

Technically, Aegon was your half-brother, but the absurdity of your betrothal wasn't the blood relationship (normal for your House), but that you and Aegon were as far apart as you could get. Besides the big age difference, you couldn't stand his mother, who was always on your back for never having married.

Your brother was an irritating-spoiled brat, barely out of his teens. Even his younger brother Aemond was more mature.

“Don't try to get away from me, y/n!” Daemon shouted, but he soon caught you up. “You shouldn't have told your father you do not want to marry Aegon — he is the best marriage proposal you will ever get.”

You just stayed silent. Forced to stop your runway because Daemon was holding you by the arm, you just stared him and let him finish his argument.

“You're eight and twenty, y/n. It's past the time you became a wife,” he said.

“Are you proposing?” you asked, laughing it off. “I thought you only had eyes for my sister.”

Daemon snorted, loosening his grip on your arm and looking away from your eyes. He didn't seem to believe you would say such a thing.

“Y/n, you should marry Aegon, for your safety. It's the best option,” he tried again, but he couldn't see you couldn't be reasoned with.

“Well, I'm sorry if it would've been for the best, Daemon,” you sighed, stepping away from him, even though it was a really hard thing to do. He was very magnetic. “But is it better that I marry my brother even though I like somebody else?”

Daemon faced you. His brows lowered — he pitied you.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled.

“I didn't… I didn't realize,” he said, stepping closer to you, taking away the space you hardly work to get between you two.

You stared at him, in disbelief. How could he have? He was in fact looking at Rhaenyra all the bloody time, you were not lying when you mentioned it. You were younger than her, so all you could ever do — your whole life, for that matter — was to sit back and watch.

“So,” Daemon scratched his throat, “you're still not over Harwin, huh?”

You slowly closed your eyes, jerking your head in the opposite direction of Daemon's teasing gaze. He was trying to be sympathetic, even empathetic, but he had failed badly. Sir Harwin Strong had been your fling, long before he had been your sister's affair.

Harwin and you only kissed, but it was so few times that you, now older, rarely remembered. Once, as a child, still naive, you pledged yourself—swore yourself, in front of the gods—to Daemon. Your virtue would be taken away by him and no one else. So Harwin lost interest, and soon he was in the graces of your beautiful older sister.

Daemon had failed to see that the one in your way from marrying your brother — or anybody else — was only himself.

“Yes,” you gulped, opening your eyes back again but not fully facing your uncle. “I'm not over Harwin yet.”

The Targaryen rogue prince shook his head. “I see.”

“Will you excuse me now?” you asked, rudely. You were sick of standing there as a pig to slaughter when he didn't even want to hurt you anyway.

“Of course, princess,” he said, allowing your escape.

You hastened away, not even looking back.

#daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x yn #aegon targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #harwin strong #rhaenyra targaryen #targaryen!reader #sad fic #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

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