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maidragoste · 6 months

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The Decision

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).

Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.

Now you can read this bonus!

TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)

I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!

If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.

You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.

With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.

“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”

Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.

It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.

"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.

You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.

"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.

"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.

"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.

The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.

“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.

"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice

This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.

"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."

If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.

After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.

You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.

“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.

It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.

This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.

“You know,” you declared sadly.

“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.

“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.

You froze when Harwin walked away from you.

“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.

“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”

His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.

“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.

You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…

But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.

You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."

And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.

"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.

Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.

"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.

You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.

*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.

"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.

He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing her. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. Her brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.

"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"

Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.

You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”

"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.

"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.

In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.

"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.

Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.

You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.

“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.

“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”

You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.

You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in his eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. "I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."

And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.

“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.

Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.

Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.

He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.

Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.

Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.

"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

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It Is Time (Daemon x Reader)

This is probably the softest imagine I have written and it was so much fun. I was listening to line without a hook so you get the vibe I was going for.

To be married into the Targaryen was considered a chance of a lifetime for most, however a marriage with the princess of the Summer Islands was a miracle, when (y/n)s father send the raven of her being open to wedlock Jahaerys was the first to respond, offering Daemon as a suitable husband, to align such foreign force was a must for the Targaryens, Daemon at first had retaliated, denying to part take in a loveless marriage with a woman he had never seen to just be a pawn of the king.

That quickly changed when (y/n) visited kings landing, “The diamond of the Summer islands” she was known for her bewitching nature, as she walked next to her father like she owned the place Daemon swallowed thickly at what his eyes were experiencing, it looked like she was a mystical fairy merely flowing instead of using her feet, she was a different type of beauty, a thicker frame with tanned dark skin from the place of endless summer, tall frame and curly hair, her eyes resembled that of a fox, full of mischief and secrets. The daughter of house Truefyre had brought Daemon to his knees with a single glance, once he greeted her and got a hold of her hand he felt shivers down his spine.

“It was the first time I felt like the Gods smiled down at me”

Their wedding was the talk of Westeros, (y/n) and Daemon danced the night away, whispers a of a the union growing strong took over as Daemon was seen tending to his lady wife in every way, shape and form, he was put under a spell that he never wanted to break free from.

“What is it my diamond?”

“I haven’t… bled”

“Oh…. Oh!”

Realisation hit daemon like a stone in the head, Daemon and (y/n) had been every affectionate with one another, Daemon would always have a hand touching (y/n) and there have been rumours of Daemon letting his hand slip in more inappropriate parts, how could he resist? His lady wife was the most perfect creature, his precious diamond that he held close in hopes to protect her forever.

Daemon was not a man of exaggerating declares of happiness, at the news of his wife being with his child he simply smiled and placed a kissed on her forehead before kneeling to be in the same height as her belly.

“I cannot wait to meet you little one”

(Y/n) had wished to reside to the Summer islands, away from duties and pointless dinner with backstabbing lords that would arse kiss in front of her face, her father was gracious enough to offer a castle right next to the sea shore as her wedding gift, Daemon could not deny his love such joy, he also secretly wanted to have a quiet life with his family.

As the morrows came and went (y/n) was changing by the hour, her lady nature kicked in with impeccable strength, compelling the princess to shed tears at the sight of a cat playing with her kittens, her hand was always caressing her growing belly as she sang to the babe while sitting in a swing located in a beautiful orange tree, the breeze passing through her as she rested in the shade and enjoyed the sounds of nature.

“The princess requested for deer meat with… peach jam”

Daemon found himself giving her strange requests to the cooks more than he liked to admit, it was almost a daily ritual for her to wake up in all hours of the night and beg her husband for stuff like plum juice and oysters, strawberry cake and beef meat, he would sometimes think her cravings were the reason of her sickness, although he was smarter than uttering his concern, he would simply nod and go searching for whatever she had asked for.

“I have gotten fat”

“You are with child”

“I am fat with child”

Daemon took in the scene of his wife standing as she watched herself in the mirror, she had gotten bigger as time went on but that was normal for her journey in motherhood. He had been reading a book in his bed when he puffed out a breath and stood up to approach her, (y/n) quickly went to wrap herself with her silk rob yet Daemon stopped her, on her vanity she had an open jar of cream that she would often run her belly with, it soothed her from the itching. Daemon took a small amount and gently went over the stretched skin with care.

“You are a mother, a beautiful woman that is strong enough to carry a child in her with such grace that you make it seem easy, I look at you and I see the world in those dark hues of yours”

“You are going to make me cry”

“I am going to make you happy and when the time comes and our baby is born I will be sure to let them know how infuriatingly gorgeous their mother was when you were carrying them”

“I hope it is a girl”

“I pray that it is healthy, now it is time you rest and no more talking down on your figure, the mother of my child will never be disrespected like that”

Daemon had been (y/n)s shadow, making sure she had everything her heart desires and was happy until she laid next to him with a grin, it was the only way Daemon could drift off, he wouldn’t be able to even sleep for an hour if he wasn’t certain his wife was unwell, especially now that she was risking her life for the birth of their child.

“Daemon, Daemon wake up”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It is time”

“Oh seven hells, I’ll summon the maester”

“No, no, take me to the ocean”

“(Y/n) it is not the time to swim”

“Daemon for the love of everything that is holy, take me to the fucking ocean”

Daemon was smart enough to understand there was no room for him to protest and not to even negotiate about it, he simply took his dear wife gently in his arms as she grunted and moaned and safely let her feel the coldness of the ocean waves. (Y/n) was overcome by a sense of relief from her muscles as the water soothed the ache, washing it away with each wave, her back resting against a rock with her legs spread wide open to give the babe access.

“Now may I call the maester?”

“No, I don’t want them here”

“Why?”

“I want you to be the first one to hold it, not a bunch of people who will let me know the gender before the status of the babes health”

Daemon empathised with his love, wet nurses and maesters were known for not quite caring of anyone’s health, only to deliver the next heir of the Targaryen bloodline.

Daemon nodded mostly to himself before he kneeled so he can take a proper look and guide his wife as much as he could.

“Now I am not trained for this but I’ll do my best”

“It’s alright my sweet, I just need you to hold it when it gets here”

(Y/n) was doing a wonderful job during the entire labour, if Daemon did not know any better he would say (y/n) had gotten through labour a thousand of times, the sound of the ocean calmed her nerves and the cold water seemed to come in to use as beats of sweat appeared on her forehead, she would often ask Daemon to splash her in the face or her chest.

“Here we go my diamond, just a little more”

It had been the wee hours of the morning until the babe was released from her, relief washed over her as her legs could finally spread flat and rest. Daemon caught the babe that was greeted by the ocean first before it was finally secure in their fathers arms, the beautiful little star cried while Daemon cut the cord with his dagger.

“Is the babe alright?”

“The dragon is as strong as her mother”

“Her? A girl?”

“Indeed”

“Give her to me”

Daemon silently complied, passing the fragile little girl in her mothers arms. (Y/n) had never felt more accomplished before, she delivered her daughter right as she wished, with her husband and with the strength of the ocean.

In her land the sea goddess was also the goddess of fertility, frequently plenty of couples would bring their babes to the shore and let the water caress the babes skin as a thank you to the goddess for allowing them to expand their families, to be able to give birth right in the goddesses home was a dream for a plethora of women.

“How about Ariel?”

“An unusual name for a Targaryen, what will your dear family say?”

“I couldn’t give two shits about them, you and our precious Ariel are the beginning and the end for me”

“you have become such a poet my prince”

“How could I not? dear (y/n) you have turned my life to a living fairytale”

“Help me up please”

Daemon allowed his wife to carry the small child while he carried her, the maester along with the servants were waiting for the couples arrival back to the castle, they were aware of how sacred this moment had been for them and watched from the sidelines, praying that everything would go smoothly.

“Behold (y/n) of House Truefyre and our first born, Ariel Targaryen”

(Y/n) only giggled as Daemon puffed out his chest with pride and carried her to their chamber while all the servants beamed with joy.

“I believe we should take the babe for a bath”

“No maester Gerald I will do it”

“As you wish princess”

“My love, you should rest”

“I would rather be Caraxes next meal than allow someone else experience her first milestones instead of us”

Daemon only leaned to peck his wives lips with the utmost adoration, his diamond was meant to become a mother and he felt a certain sense of honour that she chose him to share her future with.

The servants prepared the bath for little Ariel while (y/n) and Daemon kneeled, the babes first sensation was the ocean so Ariel was peaceful as the warm water was gently washing away the salt of the waves.

“She will be a strong dragon rider, like you”

“Or a graceful princess of the summer islands, like you”

(Y/n) leaned closer to her husband as a way to express her emotions to him. It was Daemons turn to smile at her, (y/n) was everything Daemon never thought he deserved in life, sometimes he would think what would his life be if he had not married her, and the result was just grim and cold.

“We should call the wet nurses my sweet, Ariel will need to feed in a while”

“Wet nurses? Daemon this is not kings landing, we feed our babes here”

He would never imagine he could love his wife more, that is until he was part of the moment (y/n) fed Ariel, such a sacred ritual and bond with mother and daughter. (Y/n) laid comfortably in their bed after she had a scorching hot bath with her favourite scented soap which was lily flowers, Daemon had even braided her wet hair so it will be out of her face and make her feel pretty.

(Y/n) hummed a tune to their little princess, light beaming through the windows on this glorious day and their babe healthy and already loved tremendously suckling on its mothers breast, (y/n) could almost feel the women of her bloodline gather around them and bless the babe with their hands on her shoulders, resilient women who suffered through months of pain, swelling, restless nights, broke their hips for the birth, even produced milk for their children to feed, Daemon had been a warrior who had taken plenty of life’s, his wife was a warrior who created a life.

“It is time for you to rest”

“No, I don’t want to take my eyes off of her, I want to watch her breathe”

“Alright, I’ll sit right by you with Ariel as you sleep, I will watch her for you. Do you trust me with that?”

“I suppose”

Daemon did as such, sitting up in their bed holding the princess while (y/n) got comfortable with her pillow, her eyelids were already heavy but she still fought, Daemon rocking the babe without even realising how bright he was smiling at his daughter was such a gorgeous sight to miss, they were not just husband and wife now, nor prince and princess of anything, they were mother and father, parents that would offer their life for their daughter, a bond made by passion and kept by devotion and love.

She drifted off to sleep with the sound of her daughter cooing at her father, praying that her body won’t be in need of countless hours of sleep, since she looked forward to waking up and be fully capable of holding her daughter again.

Requests are open

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flowerandblood · 9 months

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The Impossible Choice (15)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

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Daemon wasn't sure how he felt about seeing his brother after so many years. He stared at him with his lips tightened, while Rheanerya spoke to him in a reassuring voice, introducing him to their sons. He tried to focus on her words, but all that occupied his thoughts was that his brother would soon die.

His brother was weak, but it was because of his forgiving nature that he still had his head; he knew that any other king would have beheaded him for his disobedience. Viserys, even if he banished him for a few years, always allowed him to return, welcoming him with open arms.

What he thought of his rulership did not matter, for he loved him as a brother.

It was hard for him to see a once completely functional and joyful man lying on his deathbed in a state of partial decomposition of his body.

He was visibly stupefied and this disturbed him.

When he asked him to hand him the tea that laid on the table next to him, he did so without a word, but then a sort of shudder, a premonition passed through him and he sniffed the contents that remained.

Poppy milk.

"Your childhood friend and her father have dulled my brother's mind with fucking poppy milk." He hissed to his niece-wife, who looked at him shocked as they settled a bit further away, so that Viserys, moaning in pain, could not hear them.

Rhaenyra involuntarily placed a hand on her pregnant belly, massaging herself over it, looking around the chamber, her lips tightening. He knew the expression on her face, knew that she was torn and thinking strenuously.

"He will not sit on the throne tomorrow in this state." She said quietly, worried and frightened, Daemon chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

"Of course he won't. That's what they want. They fucking stupefied his mind." He sneered, walking towards one of the large chairs by the extinguished fireplace. He sat on it, rubbing his face with his palm.

His wife sighed quietly and walked over to him, stroking his arm reassuringly. He looked at her wordlessly, grasped her hand and kissed it.

Then Alicent walked into his brother's quarters.

A pompous, proud whore pretending to be a saint.

He looked at her with annoyance and disapproval as she tried to pretend that she was glad to see them and gave them any respect.

When his wife asked her about the poppy milk and the king's health, the queen began to wrestle with the fact that without it his brother would suffer unimaginable pain and it was his will. Daemon rolled his eyes at these words.

"And how is that will expressed? Hm?" He asked, extending his hand in front of him, raising his eyebrows mockingly. "By his moaning and wailing?"

Alicent closed her eyelids, apparently trying not to say anything inappropriate, which only made him even more amused.

She'd always tried to pretend to be noble and unsullied, but he knew women like her well.

They grew bitter and ugly in his eyes from lack of pleasure and fulfilment in life, becoming some kind of spectre.

When she began to speak about unfounded accusations and the grace of her gods, he cut himself off completely, giggling under his breath as he looked at his fingers, deciding that he wasn't going to pay any attention to this nonsense.

He already knew that they would not be able to count on his brother's support and his wife would have to manage on her own.

The next day, seeing Lucerys shaking with stress, he took him aside, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

He was no longer a child, but he was not yet a man either.

The worst possible time for such trials, he thought.

"You can't shake when your mother is defending your rights to Driftmark. You have to show strength, not weakness. They will be there accusing you and stirring up mud, and you have to accept it with dignity. Understood?" He asked expectantly, and Luke nodded, pressing his lips into the thin line, all pale. Daemon sighed heavily, placed a hand on his black curls and walked over to his wife, nodding that they were ready.

They steeped the throne room, which was already crowded with people causing confusion around them and loud conversations of the entire court. He saw out of the corner of his eye Otto Hightower standing next to the Iron Throne, ready to sit on it, and smirked under his breath.

He thought that this man would one day burn in the fires of Caraxes, like all his sanctimonious family.

They stood with the whole group to the right of the throne, Rhaenrya saying something quickly over her shoulder to Luke, trying to soothe him with her reassurances, grasping his hand in hers.

He thought she shouldn't do that, show maternal weakness when her son was about to prove himself strong and worthy of his inheritance, but he didn't speak, folding his hands in front of him and sighed quietly, bored.

After a moment, his attention was drawn to a couple who had walked inside through a side entrance to join the Greens. He raised his eyebrows in surprise when he recognised his nephew.

He was a muscular, well-built man, walking with a confident, slow step.

Next to him Jace and Luke looked like a small boys.

His attention was also drawn to his wife.

He thought they were both complete opposites; he stony, his jaw clenched, his posture upright and aggressive. She, on the other hand, had a gentle and warm gaze, walking beside him gracefully and lightly with the quiet rustling of her ornate brown and red gown.

She wore the colours of her home, not her husband's.

He liked it.

Rumours of the circumstances of their betrothal had reached even Dragonstone, raised by Baela during one of their meals together. She learned from her maid, whose sister was a cook in Storm's End, that Lord Borros had tried to hide his youngest daughter from Prince Aemond.

The prince had her brought in, humiliating the lord with his words, saying that he could not count.

He was to kiss each of his daughters several times to see which lips gave him more pleasure, and then, to Lord Baratheon's despair, he was to kidnap his youngest daughter and take her with him to King's Landing.

He suspected that the story was coloured by some female fantasy, but in the end the young prince chose her over her sisters anyway.

Daemon thought that perhaps the prince saw an opportunity to force her to break and submit to him because of her young age and inexperience.

He concluded that he had her wrapped around his finger and probably fucked anything that moved, exactly like his older brother.

He was snapped out of his musings by the entrance of Vaemond Valeryon's, confident, buoyant,with his head held high, he stepped into the centre.

He thought it was pathetic for a man to have to puff himself up like this, to show the people gathered around him his power.

To him it was a sign of inner insecurity and weakness.

He realised with amusement that perhaps the second sons had such a thing after all.

Otto sat down on the Iron Throne, speaking aloud about what matter would be decided and gave Vaemond the right to speak first.

Daemon looked around the hall, not listening completely to what he was saying, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of complete disinterest.

His lineage and pride did not concern him.

Colrys knew perfectly well what Leanor was like.

He knew that Luke was Strong's son, and he had named him his heir anyway.

Colrys was a wise man, understanding that one remembered the name, not the blood.

He only returned with his mind to the events in the hall when his wife stepped forward to give her point of view on the matter.

She did not have time to say anything, however, as his brother stepped into the throne room.

Daemon watched with a clenched throat as his brother, his lifemate, glided slowly down the stairs with difficulty, leaning with a trembling hand on his staff.

Although he had never looked worse, weak, old, ailing, he had never seen such determination in him before either, and he pressed his lips together at the thought.

Viserys loved easy solutions and security.

He loved it when he missed the hard parts, when he didn't have to make morally debilitating decisions.

After he ordered his child to be taken out of Aemma's womb he retreated even further, horrified by his act and its consequences.

Only after Laena's death did Daemon understand what he was going through at the time.

He always wanted to marry Rhaenyra, not Laena. He had asked Viserys for it several times, but he was angered by the proposal, thinking that he wanted to use his daughter to sit on the Iron Throne.

The truth was that he didn't care about the throne.

No one could understand a Targaryen like the other Targaryen.

Nevertheless, his marriage to Laena was surprisingly successful. She and Rhaenyra had been close friends even before they were betrothed, and from what Rhaenyra later told him, they had experienced and explored each other's bodies together wanting to see what gave them pleasure.

Their close intimacy and his weakness for Rhaenyra meant that every time she visited them in their residence in Essos, they ended up in bed together.

Laena understood his complicated feelings towards his his niece and was never jealous.

Because of this he was able to love her and trust her enough to make their daily lives filled with joy and fulfilment.

When she chose to die in the fire he was heartbroken, but he also thought of her with pride.

She was a true dragon.

He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought and lowered his head, feeling a burning sensation under his eyelids.

If it wasn't for Rhaenyra, he wouldn't have been able to survive this.

They both had to lose someone in order to be reunited for the sake of the fate that they had always been destined for.

He gasped when he heard the loud crash of steel against the ground and saw his brother-king leaning against the staff, his crown lying on the stone floor.

He moved towards him, picked up the crown because of which families had killed and fought each other for centuries and helped his brother sit on the throne.

He placed the it again on his head and looked at him, for the first time in many years recognising that his brother had risen to the occasion.

From that moment on everything took the opposite turn to what Otto had planned.

The betrothal of Rhaenyra's sons to his daughters meant that one way or another, Velaryon blood would flow in their descendants.

Vaemond was panting with rage, but he knew the cause was lost to him.

Viserys upheld the right of inheritance of Driftmark accruing to Luke.

Then Vaemond lost his temper.

Daemon felt a trembling and excitement inside him that he had not felt for a long time, he placed his hand on the hilt of his Black Sister as Vaemond began to speak, but stammered.

There was complete silence all around them.

"− say it −" He whispered mischievously, a grin full of anticipation on his face.

"− her children…−" Vaemond began, looking at him with a smile full of contentment and serenity that amused him even more.

"−… are BASTARDS!!!!! −" He shouted in such a way that saliva flew out of his mouth, like the muzzle of a dog starting to bark. He turned to look at the enraged, shocked king.

"And she… is… a whore."

All around them he heard whispers and sounds of horror, everyone knew that what he had said was treason.

He didn't think on what he was doing when in one, soundless movement he took out his Black Sister and with a sure, sharp cut sliced Vaemon's head in half, his body falling involuntarily to the ground.

Hearing the squeals and screams of those gathered around him he smiled under his breath, as he looked proudly at his handiwork, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword.

"He can keep his tongue."

Then it was time for the supper ordered by his brother. He had no desire for it, but recognised that it might be his last wish and he did not intend to leave Rhaenyra alone to be devoured, so he sat down at the table with everyone.

When the queen ordered them to pray, mentioning Vaemond in addition, he looked up at the ceiling with disbelief, shaking his head, thinking that Alicent would surely become a saint in his lifetime.

This was followed by a speech from his brother, a few toasts and finally something to eat. He was starving, he hadn't eaten anything since the morning and hoped that in two hours he could already be in his bed with his wife.

He watched with amusement as Jace, Luke, Aegon and Aemond teased each other, wrestling for glances like young roosters intent on proving to each other which was the leader of the pack.

He almost burst into laughter when he saw Jace rise his cup for his uncles health and then ask Haleana to dance, surprised to see that he was not the only one smiling at the sight.

His nephew's pretty wife was looking at the dancing couple with a smirk full of satisfaction that made him curious.

He considered that perhaps she was not after all such an empty little bird as he had thought her to be.

Then he saw that her husband had spoken to her for the first time during the entire feast, apparently noticing what he did, except that he didn't like it.

He saw her answer him something quickly, looking at him with furrowed brows, bravely not lowering her gaze, her chest rising anxiously.

He raised his eyebrow as he saw her husband's hand slide from her knee between her thighs, watching how quickly his wife tightened her hand on his arm, her husband only chuckled at her helpless attempts to stop him.

He thought that the she would cry out from humiliation, terrified, but she stared at her husband in such a way that he was suddenly enlightened.

This was no act of rape against her or display of his cruelty.

They were desiring each other.

He decided amusedly that he would interrupt this fun for them, so he stood up, meeting his wife's surprised gaze and whispered to her that he would be right back.

Rhaenyra turned to continue speaking with her father and he circled the table, walking slowly towards her. He saw, holding back a wide grin, that they hadn't even noticed him, busy with themselves.

He restrained himself with the rest of his strength not to chuckle low when his nephew quickly slid his hand out from between his wife's thighs, shocked and horrified by his presence, his wife looked at him equally surprised, all red and hot.

They looked like lovers caught in the act of rapture.

"My lady." He said softly.

He held out his palm to her, and she looked at her husband questioningly. When he did not speak, turning his head away furiously, his wife gave him her hand and they moved slowly towards the dancing couple.

They spun to the rhythm of the music, their hands touched.

He thought that she had very soft, warm skin.

"Your husband doesn't seem to handle you gently." He murmured, and she threw him a quick, surprised look. She lowered her gaze, confused; he could see that she was having trouble looking him in the face.

There was something bright and piercing in her eyes, he knew that she was just analysing his words and what he was doing.

They turned, his hand on her shoulder, barely touching the sleeve of her gown.

He did not want to frighten her, to let her think that he would treat her like Aegon.

He wanted to see how much he could get out of her, whether the Prince of Aemond was the same as his brother.

Finally she lifted her gaze to him, already a little more confident.

"My husband has a complicated character, as I think all Targaryens do." She said softly, and he laughed involuntarily at her words, so apt and true.

He hummed as they switched places, turning, their hands touching again in dance, he felt a shiver pass through her and grinned at the sight.

She was sharper than one might think.

The precious jewel that Lord Borros was trying to keep for himself was clearly worth the price.

He thought that he had been wrong in his assessment of her.

She was not like Alicent.

She didn't pretend to be someone she wasn't, the truth came out of her mouth and eyes. He began to think that perhaps his nephew had not chosen her as his wife at all because he wanted to train her like a dog, but because she pulsated with life and a strong will.

Fire and Water.

"I'm not surprised that your husband stole you from Storm's End." He said finally and felt her quiver all over, looking at him uncertainly, her eyes big and warm.

He thought with surprise that his words had aroused her, but he wasn't sure why.

Perhaps it was because there were words of truth in the rumours.

Her husband had stolen her from her father because he craved her.

They bowed to each other and returned to their seats without bestowing a glance on each other. His wife looked at him softly, placing her hand on his, and he kissed her palm, closing his eyes, smelling her pleasant, familiar scent.

"She seems a nice young lady. Could you pass me a piece of cake?" She said lightly, pointing to a platter nearby, and he nodded, placing a piece on her plate.

"Yes, she's surprisingly clever. I think she managed to tame a dragon." He hummed, glancing at his nephew who had just furiously rejected his wife's hand, his mouth hissing out a few words.

"Don't touch me."

Daemon raised his eyebrows in amusement, putting the platter back in place, Rhaenyra busied herself eating.

"A dragon?" She asked with interest, wiping the corner of her mouth clean of crumbs.

"Your half-brother with one eye." He muttered, grabbing his goblet and taking a long sip of wine from it.

He looked with interest at the prince who suddenly stood up, informing them matter-of-factly that his wife was unwell and he would escort her to her chamber.

He almost choked on his wine on hearing this confession and led them away with a look of utter disbelief.

He was so jealous that he needed to fuck her now.

He fought the thought of going out after them, of covering them and humiliating them, of seeing their faces, but decided that he would let them have their fun.

His wife cocked her head, returning to the subject he had brought up earlier, finishing the piece of cake she had just eaten.

"What did you mean when you said that she tamed him?" She hummed, intrigued apparently by his discovery. He looked at her, grinning.

"Her husband is completely obsessed with her."

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Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics

Others: @dreamymoomin @thedamewithabook @dc-marvel-girl96 @zillahvathek @helaenaluvr @tssf-imagines @heavenly1927 @hiatuswhore @it-is-getting-better @linkpk88 @luna-salem @toodlesxcuddles @happinessinthebeing @siriusblackrunmeover17 @alaaaaaaa @ladybug0095 @barbiegirlaemond @random-ocity @whoknows333

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themotherofblood · 1 year

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byka perzys | part two

rosy riñītsos | part one | masterlist

Dark!Daemyra Targaryen x Crybaby!Reader

A/N: y’all filthies were hungry for part two so here we go, again do not come at me. This is very taboo with dad Daemon and step mom Rhaenyra. Feel free to skip this if it ain’t your cup of tea; I have other vanilla ones. A little angsty start!! Not proof read. I’m going to bed lol I will do it later :)

tw: naive reader, dubcon-ish,breastfeeding (lactation kink), infantilism, incest!, spanking.

It has been eight moons since Rhaenyra Targaryen claimed the Iron Throne, it had been a bloody affair truly- her own kin beheaded and hanging off the gates of the Red Keep as an example.

Usurp the throne and pay its price.

People that Y/N once called family all hung from the gates, her favourite aunt in chains with her little cousins. Daemon and Rhaenyra did their best to keep their children away from the monstrosity that followed with war, however keeping Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena proved to being harder. They won the throne regardless with every green supporter executed or incarcerated. Only after Rhaenyra secured her position did she send for her eldest daughter to be brought to King’s Landing from Dragonstone.

The battle had turned both Rhaenyra and Daemon bitter, while to the court they had begun celebrating their victory. With enormous galas being thrown for their children’s engagements. Both Jace and Baela being named future heir to the throne, they had begun being more involved in the politicking while Rhaena and Luke began to make journeys with their grandfather Corlys.

You felt alone in it all- Joff, Aegon and Viserys were all little making them the joy of everyone’s eyes and what remained of you? A mere bastard girl at court with nothing to her name. You were happy that the war ended, that your mother sat the throne; your family whole. You had spent all your life hidden, buried in your books or lost in the gardens. You didn’t care much for courtly attention, what you did care for were your kepa and mūna.

You went from nursing yourself to sleep in between them for many moons to the war making them forget of your existence, you waited, you truly did. However as the days passed, the more scared you became. You would cry yourself to sleep with fear of death, and now you felt alone. You stood at court and yet no one saw you. A giant table set for supper and yet there was just you awaiting your family. They never came.

You had found solace elsewhere, making multiple trips with your lady’s maids to the city as everybody made efforts to sew Kings Landing back to its proper glory, many of Daemon’s gold cloaks would accompany you; not wanting to loose their heads to dark sister. You offered baskets of milk, clothing and food out to the people of flea bottom and perhaps in those few hours you spent with the common people. You felt more seen than you had in over six months, your visits became frequent, and while Daemon and Rhaenyra believed you were holed up deep in the libraries in the Red Keep; you read stories to children at the Blackwater beaches.

You learned of tales of your own birth and how you might have been one of these common people had your father not been so considerate of his own blood. It warmed you heart and yet upset you more. He never spoke of your birth mother and you never questioned him on the matter, not until you sent out your lady’s maid to find the tavern you took birth in. It was weeks until they returned with the name of the tavern, which too they relayed to you with hesitation. A princess in a tavern…blasphemy.

You had found your people, while your mother perished while birthing you, an older tavern wench recognized your lilac eyes the second you set foot into her establishment, they cared for you the first eight moons of your existence until gold cloaks came knocking down their door to retrieve you for your kepus, the King. They did not fight, mayhaps their one child of many would be raised in riches. They closed the bar down as they celebrated your return.

Everyone of the barmaids began hounding you with questions.

“Do ya remember us little lady?” one questioned “I bathed you as babey”

“Aye- but I named ya little fires!” a woman named Chataya replied.

“Tell us litte fires, have ya gotten one of those monsters?” the older woman questioned, you happily smiled as you nodded your head.

“Vermithor.” you said smiling ear to ear.

“Vermithor!” they all cheered as they raised their cups of ale, making you flinch but giggle along. You spent a better part of that afternoon basking in happiness, there wasn’t a single room in the Red Keep that spread with this much joy at your presence.

That evening at the square named you the Princess of Flea Bottom.

A fitting title for a very different reason from when Daemon was named the very thing for his whoring habits.

Just as always even tonight, other than Joffrey everybody seemed to have found themselves occupied.

“Sorry sister, there are council matters.” Jacearys apologised on his and Baela’s behalf for their inability to join you for supper. Lucearys and Rhaena had extended their stay at Driftmark. You had spent the better part of supper scraping your peas from one end to the other as Joffrey went on about his new horse gifted to him by some lord- Massey? Baremon? You weren’t sure which.

“A proper princess finishes her food!” the shrill voice of Septa Marlow scolded you yet again.

That night you attempted something you would have never tried before, you frustrations seemed to have frozen your nervousness as you pattered your way over to the royal apartments in Maegor’s Holdfast with a book in one hand and a doll in another. Hoping that tonight Daemon might read to you for the night, you wouldn’t even beg to lay with them; merely spend a few moments in their company. The queensgaurd placed by their doors already had succumbed to slumber as he leaned against the wall. Your meek nature made it far to easy to evade him as you entered the Queen’s apartments.

The door to their bed chambers were slightly parted as you heard chatter from within, a burst of joy spread through you. After much time they had been in their bed chambers at an acceptable hour, perhaps tonight you might sleep all through the dark skies till the sun graced King’s Landing. You smiled to yourself, already the forming the sentence of request in your head so you wouldn’t stammer while speaking. Running the words over your head twice before approaching the door.

You peaked in, immediately freezing as your knock barely reached the door. You eyes fixated on the image within the chambers. Your heart sunk, small twitches of anxiety moved through your fingers as your gaze fell upon a girl stood in between Daemon and Rhaenyra. Daemon’s lips attacking her neck as she suckled at Rhaenyra’s breasts, your feet took you backwards. Knocking over the vase placed on a side table by the door, a loud crash through the corridor.

Daemon’s eyes immediately shot to the door, furious at whoever would dare interrupt the Queen and her consort, and even more who would dare to peak in. He pushed the whore on the bed and unsheathed his dagger, ready to swing it at whomever he would find at their chamber doors. He heard hurried shuffling feet as pushed the door open with all its might, the queensgaurd placed at the door looking disheveled as he appeared to make himself look coherent. He stumbled to no evidence to who the onlooker might have been, other than a book laid on the ground.

He picked up the book, turning it to read it’s cover. A tale of romance that perhaps only one person would have read it in all of the Red Keep. He shook his head, cursing himself at what you might have seen as he returned inside to grab his cloak. He threw the book at his wife, who looked at him questioningly; she frowned at the cover as Daemon apologized to the doe eyed whore that both Daemon and Rhaenyra would have enjoyed tormenting.

“Sorry pet, here’s your gold.” He placed four gold coins on her lap before leaving to find you.

You ran as fast as your feet would allow, hiking your skirts with both hands as your discarded your doll by the servants chambers, everyone of them shouting at you; concerned of your well being. You had managed to climb over boxes just as you did with trees and jumped over the lower walls, ridding yourself of the Red Keep. You hated it here, you wanted to go home. You wanted everyone to just return to the days at Dragonstone. The metal fencing tugged at your skirts, ripping through a good inch or two of your lavender skirts and dug into the skin of thigh, drawing blood that in the moment you hadn’t registered somewhere in the scuffle you had also misplaced a slipper, leaving your one foot bare as you escaped. You just ran, escaping the vile portrait of another girl nursing on your mother.

Pushing through crowds of people as you ran towards the Dragonpit, Vermithor had already felt your inner turmoil, growling and freeing himself of his chains as he stomped his way out of his holding to the courtyard; awaiting your arrival as he still growled at the dragonkeeper trying to settle him down. They already knew the sudden outraged behaviour of the bronze dragon had to do with your arrival, in the darkness however they couldn’t tell a thing.

You ran towards your dragon, looking behind you to see if anyone followed which you were sure they would. Your father might have been as furious as you were at them, if not worse.

“Vhalar Vermithor!” you yelled at him.

“Soves!”

You hurried to pull yourself onto his wing, yanking your body up onto your leathered saddle. “Sovētēs!” you ordered once more before your dragon pushed its wings back to fly towards the dark skies. You hadn’t even bothered to tie yourself to him, you just held on as your heart hammered within your chest.

Daemon arrived to the dragonpit moments later, already finding a torn piece of your dress stained in blood and your doll discarded at the servant grounds, he cursed under his breath as Caraxes was brought out of his holding. He wasted no time in mounting his dragon after he made sure that the dragon keepers would send word to his wife. Caraxes would hunt them down to be sure, he had to.

Vermithor flew for hours to be sure; you had not a clue of where he took you. Your mind toiled of far worse things.

What were you thinking? The court didn’t want you and neither did your kin. The word bastard began to ring in your ears as you cried high above the clouds. The more Vermithor flew the more it became apparent that he was flying north, the air began to grow colder until he finally landed upon a strip of mountains. You sighed, looking around at the hill forests as you shuffled off him. You yelped out loud feeling the throb in your thigh, you began trembling again.

You wanted to go home.

You wanted to go back to Dragonstone.

Vermithor grunted, already irked that you had distrupted his sleep and yet he sympathized with your sorrow, the cold that had began to seep into your bones that your torn summer gown did nothing to shield you from. The bronze fury let out a gust of fire, circling around himself and you to keep him warm as he snuggled himself on the grass. You shuffled closer to his neck as you rested against the warm reptilian skin, crying into your hands. Afraid and alone.

Daemon had flown for hours, Caraxes had lost the scent of your dragon past the burning ruins in the Riverlands. He returned at dawn, failing to find you as he stomped into his chambers. He explained it all to Rhaenyra who looked terrified, hurrying to send out ravens to every lord to seek for a bronze dragon and their princess dressed in lavender. Daemon made trips himself, scouring through Dragonstone and Driftmark first, knowing the Vermithor spent most his time on those lands. To no avail.

He regretted no reaching out to you sooner, most of it was to blame the monstrosity that clouded Rhaenyra and his blood at the aftermath of the war. The enjoyed paying whores to leave those girls bruised by the morning, how were they to do that two their own zaldrititos. They couldn’t bare the thought of touching you while their demons ran wild in the sheets, you were far too pure to taint so early. Many night they’d free themselves of the council at late hours, Daemon himself would return covered in blood after he “interrogated” the green sympathisers. He’d peer into your bed chambers just as Rhaenyra would, watching a small frown that they would pet away from your sleeping body.

You had fallen asleep at some point, the simmering burnt grass lulled your sobbing frame to sleep as you hid under Vermithor’s wing. Come morning you woke within the same burnt circle, the sun glaring in your eyes as Vermithor rested from a few feet from you; nibbling on a roasted sheep. You shuffled up, groaning at the throb on your thigh, some where along the night the cut had stopped bleeding but left a better part of your gown soaked in blood.

You groaned as you stood up, looking around to have an inkling of where you might be, you limped toward Vermithor. Petting his skin.

“Can you take me home? Dragonstone?” you asked him, hoping he’d be done with his meal soon. His yellow eyes merely looked at you from his periphery before thudding his head to the ground to rest. “Please?”

He moved his snout to push the leftover sheep towards you, before closing his eyes to slumber.

You had begun to venture around the edge of the woods, luckily finding a pond to wash your wound. More tears followed as the gash burned anew, the cruel cold water bringing you much discomfort. Hours went past, you had begged your bronze dragon to take you home a dozen times, to no avail. He had begun to drag himself to a mountain cave, holding his fresh kill within his mouth as he huffed every two breaths; awaiting your limping frame to keep up with him.

Perhaps this was your home now, you were hungry, and ate around the cooked flesh of the kills Vermithor would hunt, you were in pain. Both physically and mentally, perhaps they didn’t care, perhaps they threw another gala as they were rid of their bastard daughter.

“What if she never returns Daemon?” Rhaenyra sighed as she held rocked baby Visenya to bed. “She won’t survive out there.”

“I know that! Don’t you think I know that?” Daemon snapped, still beating himself over your disappearance. “She has her dragon with her, he will protect her.”

Various lords around the seven kingdoms sent out watch parties, hoping to spot the princess or atleast her dragon. Four days past and not a word, until finally a white raven arrived from The Vale. A parchment containing the sightings of Vermithor atop their mountains and talks of Hill tribes and Mountain men attacking whatever that dragon was trying to hide. All attempts to make contact were met with dragon fire, killing the Knights of The Vale and Hill tribes alike.

Daemon was enraged as he rushed to mount Caraxes, armed with Dark Sister while he rode with all his might to arrive at the Eyrie before the dusk began to decorate the horizon. They pointed toward the taller peak, warning him of Mountain men all guarding the cave for any sitting of the bronze fury. Daemon flew above with Caraxes, watching as the savages below shoot arrows and boulder like rocks in the cave; above all he heard the furious roars of Y/N’s dragon. He had burned every last one of them in a fit of rage, the glowing carnage could be seen from miles below the mountains as Caraxes landed with a thud just outside the caves. Daemon approached the dark cave with stealth, singing a Valyrian lullaby that his grand sire sung for his dragon, one that he sang with Y/N while he helped her claim the enormous beast.

You hid behind your dragon’s tail, groaning in pain as a rock yet again bruised your skin. The first two days stop the mountain were peaceful. You had found yourself berries that kept your fed just enough to curb the rumbling, the fresh water pond helped both you and Vermithor and the gash on your thigh began dry as your cleaned them with washed leaves. Your dress on the other hand, went from lavender to dirt brown in no time, your feet covered in little cuts at you rid yourself of your only slipper. Your family consisted of Vermithor and little cave bugs, that was until the people Vermithor was stealing sheep and goats from came knocking- charging at your door.

You had fought them for two days, with barely enough sleep as they kept throwing things and shooting at Vermithor. He burned them and yet more came, then came knights who knew your name. Perhaps green sympathizers that wanted your head, you burned them too. You cowered behind Vermithor sobbing until you heard a familiar lullaby, you cried louder in your hands, you feared you had succumbed to madness.

“Y/N! Riñītsos?” you heard Daemon’s voice bellow in the darkness. You were sure somebody had come for you, and it sure wasn’t Daemon. You huffed pulling yourself onto Vermithor, hoping to scare away whoever it was.

“Dracarys.” you said, making Vermithor let out a blow of fire around the cave. You sat atop him with agony and rage in your eyes, you were exhausted and were sure you would die by the end of the fortnight. That was until the warm glow of the fire flashed the white haired figure stood at the entrance of the cave.

“nyke issa riñītsos.” his voiced echoed through the cave.

“k-kepa?” you bottom lip wobbled as you shuffled off of Vermithor, barely able to hold your own weight together.

As much as Daemon wanted to run to grab you, he couldn’t. The bronze fury still held a murderous stance towards him, he had to wait for you. You feet slowly limped forward to him, clearing your eyes in the little light that remained in the burning darkness. You whispered his name once more to which he replied, holding his arms out until he saw your body in the light.

Frail, your dress covered in soot, dirt and blood. The braids on your hair undone and unruly, stained in dirt and blood too. Wounds on your arms and a bleeding cut on your head, Daemon took in a sharp breath once he finally had you in his arm, you collapsed- whimpering as he rushed to cover your body with his cloak.

“Iksā ȳgha, iksan vaoreznuni.” He whispered against your temple as he pushed you hair away. Daemon carried you to Caraxes, helping you mount him first before situating himself behind you. He was perturbed to be sure, that you would be so reckless but in the moment he felt nothing but relief as he flew back to the Red Keep with you in his arms.

Two days, it had been two days as you graced the world of consciousness and then drifted to slumber again. The day Daemon returned to the Red Keep, carrying your cloaked frame in his arms as your lady’s maids rushed to care for you. Both Rhaenyra and him and sat through the ordeal as the cleaned your wounds, he wanted to backhand every one of your maids as your hissed and cried out as the girls tended your wounds. Upon being tucked in bed, Daemon sat with you for hours, humming a lullaby under his breath as he caressed your silver wisps.

When you had awoken for sure, you had jolted awake. Eyes darting over your canopy until they fell upon Rhaenyra and Daemon sat next to your bed. Both looked tired and yet furious, their faces reminded you of what you had seen, soon filling your relieved heart with bitterness.

“What were you thinking?” Rhaenyra questioned darkly, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

“The Queen asked you something.” Daemon said in addition.

You scoffed at the two of them, frowning at their audacity to question you after what they had done. You groaned as you sat up, shuffling yourself off your bed from the other end. The poppy you were sure they made you consume, helped with your aching joints. Daemon’s chair scrapped as he approached you, holding your arms firmly in his hands as he questioned you once more.

“Nothing, my queen.” you said bitterly, fighting to tear yourself away from his grip.

Your tone irked her even more, far more than you using her title to defy her. “We don’t ask you for much, that you remain with us, and obey us.” she lectured “Perhaps we have been to lenient with you.”

You still said nothing as you scowled at the floor, “Do you know what they do to the girls at Old Town? The ones that behave as poorly as you have!” Daemon scolded you this time as he dragged your body back to your bed. You fought harder against his hold only irking them further.

Daemon held your body down as they plopped you on your belly. You felt them shuffle over you before Rhaenyra lifted your sleep shift from your backside, hastily pulling away at your small clothes.

“Let me go!” you screamed “Damn you, damn both of you!”

Daemon held you face down, muffling your screams as you felt the leather resting against your rear. “How many days did we not sleep proper , sweet wife?”

“Seven days.” she replied with venom in her voice.

“Seven hits.” Daemon agreed. “You better count them!” he warned you.

You felt the first hit throb against your rear, you bit your lip to starve them of a reaction. Another slash of the leather burned against your rear. “You better count if you want her to stop.” Daemon tutted.

“Go to hell!” you spat.

They had not a clue of why you acted this way, surely they would have explained what you saw but your defiance angered them way beyond measure. They wanted their meek, shy girl to return, even if they had to spank it back into you.Another harder hit radiated through your bottom, this time you cried out; only to be hit again when you finally screamed out “One!”

“Have you a clue of how afraid we were?” Daemon scolded along with the leather connecting to your arse again.

“The Vale knights you have killed? The damage alone!” Rhaenyra yelled before spanking you again.

“What if something happened to you? Do you see the wounds under a fortnight alone?” Daemon loosened his hold on you as you succumbed to your punishment, now fighting to sob.

“You could have been killed!” Rhaenyra bellowed as she got her last hit in.

You scurried forward into the bed as Daemon let you go, you hugged your knees as you shielded your face away from them. Your muña would have yelled at you once more but Daemon pulled her out of your chambers as she heaved in anger.

They hated you.

They left you to ponder over what you had done, you killed people, you ran away from home. You were horrible and they hated you now. You hadn’t realized when you began to sob but you did, you lady’s maids visited once to stoke the fires by the hearth before leaving. You sobbed into a pillow, letting every last shred of emotions in your body wet through the silk of your pillow.

Rhaenyra resumed court for the day, still fuming at what her daughter had done. Reparations were made of the dead knights to the Vale as Daemon did his best to calm her down. Perhaps they had gone two far in punishing you, however you needed to understand if not fear leaving this castle ever again. She would have chained you to the bed for all she cared, fighting this hard to sheild you from a war. Atleast her sons knew how to fight, her step daughter by Laena were fierce. You were mouse disguised a dragon, spoiled endlessly. She hated that it had resorted to this and would comfort you sooner than later.

Daemon on the other hand had handed her his belt, the simmering rage he had felt as he held your frail body back to the keep, unsure if you were dead or just asleep in his arms. The pained screams he had to hear as they cleaned your wounds, all because you were too stupid to ask them or yell at them instead of running. He hated himself too, he should have known better. Known that she would wither if left alone for far too long.

They approached your room way after supper, trays of untouched food remained outside your chambers as a lady’s maid informed them of your refusal to move. Rhaenyra huffed as she picked the tray of supper as Daemin held the door open for her, it had been a while since she had fed you herself.

You still remained the fetal position in your bed, small whimpers left your body as the pushed through the bed curtains. At first she believed you were crying your sleep, a prank of guilt ran through them as they saw your reddened rear peaking through your sleep shift.

It wasn’t until you whimpered out more words that they realized you were awake, regressed to a mere child afraid of monster as you cried.

“I-I want to go home,” you said through hiccups.

“You are home,” Daemon whispered as he pulled your onto his lap.

“D-dragonstone, home,” you whimpered.

“Oh, zaldrititos. This is our home now,” Rhaenyra cooed at her.

“No, not my home- daor!” you wailed louder, only growing more distressed as you refused to look at them “Ao vēdros nyke! Daor nyke!”

Rhaenyra gasped, “No- we could never hate you.”

“Always want our riñītsos,” Daemon whispered against your temple.

You shook your head as more furious tears fell from your eyes “The girl! I saw her, s-she was feeding on muña. You want her, n-not me.”

You began to shuffle away from her as reached forward to touch your face “We were afraid of hurting you sweet pea, I never get this angry but we have fought so hard to keep all of you safe.”

“Not knowing where you were was death, do you understand? I couldn’t breathe knowing you were out there, alone.” Rhaenyra confessed.

“You have been alone and angry, we are so sorry riñītsos,” Daemon said as he pushed your hair away. “We should have come for you sooner.”

Daemon began to pepper kisses down your face as Rhaenyra approached you again, this time you let her touch you as she caressed over your bandages.

“kepa,” you whimpered as more tears fell from your eyes. “muña,”

“You need to eat,” he whispered in your ear, nudging you to sit up right. You whined, I wanting to untangle this cocoon you had craved for months. “No, just be here.”

Your tummy grumbled and yet your refused to let this warmth wash away for a stupid cut of steak or mutton. You nuzzled your nose in the peaking curve of Rhaenyra’s bosom, hoping she would let you nurse on her; you felt far to dazed to be refused of such tenderness. Rhaenyra being a mother new exactly what you wanted, she shuffled backwards, tugging at the front strings of her dress robes. Her breasts spilling through the loosely tied corset.

You hungrily latched at her pink nipple, all too inviting at your groaned the second the sweet milk hit your tongue. She tapped your nose to make your suckle gently at her sore breasts and yet your happily lapped as your nurses on her. Daemon shuffled away making you whine, he shook his head at your impatience. Which soon turned to joy as he returned with your discarded doll in one hand; dressed in a brand new red and black dress. His other hand held the book you wanted him to read to you. He slotted himself back in yet again as you smiled around Rhaenyra’s breast.

Daemon read through passages like melted butter to the tongue, with every pause he pressed a kiss to you temple or caressed through Rhaenyra’s hair. Before Daemon flipped through the first chapter you had switched to the other breast as you suckled her dry. One thing was to be sure, it would be a while before her miles dried up for good. Not that she cared as she doted over the contentment that washed over your features

You felt content, warm and safe. You were bathed and clean, fed and sated as your were cuddled in between the two people you loved the most. You muña letting your hair as your kepa read you to sleep, the wars had ended, the blood shed seized and perhaps just for a moment. The Red Keep felt like home.

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floatyflowers · 2 years

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Dark! Daemon Targaryen x Wife! Reader (Part 2)

Part 2 to Part 1

Life was perfect with your husband, Daemon Targaryen, or at least that's how you tried to make it look like that to your daughter, Elaena.

It was very clear how possessive the rogue prince of you and his daughter, and never allowed you nor the young girl to have interactions with others except for him and the female servants.

He treats you and Elaena like how dragons treat their gold.

However, Daemon allows you some freedom in the court, when Rhaenyra requested that you stay by her side for a few days.

He was hesitant to let you take Elaena with you, but realised how much the young girl is attached to you, so he allows her to come with you.

Nevertheless, he didn't know that it was Rhaenyra's idea to help you see your family at Storm's end.

King's landing turns upside down when Daemon arrives at the castle to not find you nor his daughter at the court.

He flies to Storm's end on the back of Caraxes, as a threat to burn the Baratheon territory down if you refuse to return back with him to Dragonstone.

You would meet him outside while holding Elaena on your hip, the Baratheon soldiers standing behind you as well as your father.

"You have betrayed my trust, how dare you run away and take our daughter with you?"

"I'm tired of how you treat me and Elaena, we are not a property-"

"I'm warning you for the last time, return with me with your consent, or I will burn everything down and take you and Elaena back home by force"

When you see Caraxes land behind your husband, you realize that he will carry out his threat if you do not comply.

You know that Daemon is hot-headed, but never to the point where he threatens to end your family.

In the end, you chose to comply, fearing for blood to be shade in your name.

Knowing very well that Daemon will punish you harshly the moment you step a foot in Dragonstone.

So, you decided to announce the secret you have been hiding from him for a while.

"I'm pregnant with our second child, Daemon"

#tw: toxic relationships #daemon taragaryen x reader #wife reader #love #hate #tw threats #house of the dragon #dark #daemon targaryen

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

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Imagine 03 (18+)

A shaky hand went to his aching cock. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down in quiet surrender. The heat waves of immediate pleasure sent a shiver down his lithe spine, and droplets of precum pooled at the base of his shaft, coating his veiny hands and running over his whitened knuckles.

Aemond's eye was closed in utter concentration - he focused desperately on the task at hand, on the image that was forming behind his clasped eyelid.

You.

Oh, how he throbbed for you. How he needed you.

The things he would do to feel your skin against his. The thoughts he beared for you - sinful enough to make even the least pious of Septas writhe and beg for forgiveness through tear-stained cheeks.

As his hips began moving in unison with his leisure pumps, the man let out a low growl, and he slowly arched his back off the satin of the ruined sheets.

"Fuuuck..." He sighed into the peaceful night, and soon found himself speeding up his ministrations.

He was close. Oh so close to his fourth release of the night - but no matter how much he teased his stones, or brushed his thumb over his weeping slit, the momentary relief just wouldn't heed his call.

"Hobaenka issa... hobaenka nopāzma." He cursed under a strained breath, as he slowly rose onto his forearm, to properly fuck his hand.

"Qrugh... Nyke jorrāelagon naejot māzigon sīr quba..."

A frustrated sigh parted from his swollen lips.

This simply wouldn’t do. Not anymore.

By the Gods, he needed you.

He needed you, but he wouldn't dare have you. At the very least, not yet.

You were a vision of the Maiden, a Lady pure, and good, and kind.

He would be proper and thoughtful about it. He would marry you. And fuck you. And breed you. And mark you.

He would take his time with you. Be balls deep inside of you. Fuck you gently, or make love to you roughly - in whichever way you wanted, you needed, you pleaded.

Indeed, he would be yours to command. And he would dedicate himself to learning all the intricate ways to please you. Make you come on his tongue, tens of times before he'd even think to tease you.

He would teach you how to make him happy. He would teach you how to ride and suck him.

The Targaryen Prince couldn’t tell what posessed him to get up from the comfort of his bed, and venture into the empty lanes of the Street of Silk.

Neither could he tell what sparked his interest towards the rear-end brothel - a brothel he knew his sorry brother and uncle eagerly frequented, as well.

He just prayed and hoped he wouldn't bump into neither one of the two on that cursed night.

The figure of a plump woman rested at the hilt of the oak door - the debaucherous sounds of slick and flesh that slapped against each other rang from the other end of the Pleasure House back to his tainted ears.

Tens of whores flocked to him, baited on by his silver locks of hair - the gratuitous allure to the heavy pockets they grew so accoustomed to.

A new line of girls was formed and dismissed each minute. For Aemond Targaryen had his own paculiar tastes.

The first to go were the women who failed to possess a similar hair and eye colour to yours. Swifty followed the ones who were too tall, too lean, too stubby.

None of them were good enough. None of them were you.

The owner's patience was wearing thin, as was his very own. Perhaps coming down here was a mistake. Perhaps he'd find better release with the aid of his right hand.

And just as he was ready to depart from the dismal scene, the sound of giggles flooded the entire room.

Could it be...?

But it wasn't.

And yet...

The sight of his uncle ought to have vexed him. Embarrass him to no end, given the position he'd been viciously caught in - yet long gone were the dutiful son, the responsible Prince, and the honorable man within him.

In the stead of cowering away and leaving the brothel in a hurried conflict, Aemond's eye trailed over Daemon's whore, drinking in her every feature. A rumbled moan etched its way from his tightened throat.

Her skin bared your complexion. Her eyes held in the very same shade of luring pigment. Her hair, despite being of a lighter colour, fell perfectly over her shoulders - much like your own used to when you let it down during the cold winters.

Before he knows it, Daemon's hand wraps itself around his shoulder.

He wordlessly allows it.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" The Prince's voice erupts in a low purr. "It's unbelievalbe how much she looks like her."

His uncle plays with her loose strands of hair, and sends her his nephew's way through the musings of a laugh and rough spank.

Aemond wouldn’t sheathe his cock within her. He needs not use what thousands have used before him - and his seed should take only in you.

Her mouth and warmth are enough to satisfy him. Aemond cums with your name upon his lips; shouted so hopelessly, that the whole of Westeros would hear him.

He pays her handsomely for her service - and swears to never step foot inside that wretched place again.

But it is far too late.

For the rumours spread and quicken.

He finds that your tourmenting eyes never rest over his face again. You make yourself scarce, unseen. He sees it in the way you huff your breaths out, in the way your pale cheeks redden - you know. And you are disgusted with him.

He seizes you once, in a secluded corner of the Red Keep. He tries to explain - deny - all that you might have heard from the gossips of the Court. But you purse your lips together and sway your weight from one foot to the next.

Defiantly, you avert his gaze.

Scared, you make your way around him.

And when you must find reclusion from him, it is Daemon who offers you sanctuary. It is his arms that snake around you, his hands that caress your cheeks. It is his voice that whispers inside your ear. It is the Lord of Fleabottom who poisions you against his will.

Translations of High Valyrian:

"Hobaenka issa... hobaenka nopāzma." = Fuck me... fucking hell.

"Qrugh... Nyke jorrāelagon naejot māzigon sīr quba..." = Shit... I need to cum so badly...

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon #prince aemond #aemond smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x you #daemon targeryan #daemon fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon imagine #male wife daemon #daemon hotd #daemon smut

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multific · 1 year

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Pure Love

Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of Smut, Murder

When your husband mentioned a meeting with his family, you knew things would go down fast.

When you married him you knew at one point his family will have issues with you.

You weren't a Targaryen, you weren't a God. You were a simple woman who fell in love with a man who happened to be Targaryen.

Daemon and you never allowed his last name to get between you two until now.

He warned you of his family, and of the comments, you might receive. You knew they definitely have something to say.

"Just ignore their comments, they are weak and they try to compensate."

"They are not weak, they are jealous, My Love. You and I got married out of love and not duty, something they do not understand, something they might never experience in their lives." Daemon smiled and nodded, you understood so well.

You could tell by everyone's faces, your arrival was not expected. You being wed to Daemon was not expected. But besides a couple side-eyed glances, nothing was said or done.

Until dinner.

First, it was bickering between the children, but soon the adults joined in.

As everyone got more and more drinks, resulting in many men drunk, that's when it started.

A person, a man, his name you forgot but Daemon repeated before dinner, said to be married to his niece or something, you didn't really pay attention Daemon looked way too beautiful in his formal clothing. The man started insulting you.

First, it was just a couple of words about you not being noble, not being born with 'dragon blood' as he said, this, you could have forgiven him.

"I don't think a whore like her should sit with us." to this comment, your husband's hand clenched the chair, you only hoped he wouldn't do anything too irrational but then again, this man was really challenging you two on your patience.

"I'm not too sure I understand what you mean, Daenegar." the two men looked at each other intensely as everyone just stayed silent.

"This whore you married." he said pointing at you. "She obviously just wanted to get your royal name, what a disgrace."

"Be careful with your words, Cousin." Deamon warned but the man just laughed, obviously very drunk.

"Careful with my words? How about you be careful where you stick it into, she is truly disgusting. And also-" with a swift movement, Daenegar's head was now on the table, blood oozing everywhere as you lift your cup.

"Cheers." you said to the others before taking a drink and continuing with your meal. Everyone looked terrified, not even the men expected this kind of reaction yet here it was. Daenegar dead as Daemon cleaned off his sword. And you just continued to eat as if nothing happened.

"Anyone else has any words towards my wife will meet the same fate." he simply said as he sat down beside you.

Needless to say, dinner wasn't the same after. Not to say that most women went white as the wall upon seeing the head and the decapitated body of Daenegar.

You two were now back at your chambers, his fingers caressing your naked back as he looked at you with pure love.

"Did you really marry me for my name?" he asked. You were still a bit disoriented, Daemon made a point to you about how much he loves you truly, once both of you were back in your chambers. The love-making went on for a long time, it must have been very late now, but you just kept staring into his gorgeous eyes, barely feeling your legs at this point.

"Totally. I married you for your name, indeed. And your dragon."

"I always knew you liked Caraxes."

"Not that dragon." you smirked at it took him a moment to realize what you meant.

"You naughty fox." he laughed a little as he moved onto his elbow, you shifted as well, moving closer to him. "I love you so much."

"I know Daemon. You proved yourself today quite a bit. You defended my honour, and you proved your tongue was made for more than just talking."

"You really are a naughty fox, My Lady." that damn smirk on his face was possibly the sexiest thing you have seen in your entire life.

You lifted your hand to run your fingers down his cheeks and jaw to his lips. As you moved your finger he placed a kiss on it, pouting against it, making you smile.

Just how pure your for this man was, it almost hurt at times.

"Tomorrow will be hectic."

"More so than today?" you asked as you let out a yawn.

"Precisely. Word will spread that I killed Daenegar. People might come fight me."

"I doubt that. Everyone here is afraid of you, I highly doubt they will even dare to look at me the wrong way, let alone fight you."

"If that's true, then my plan worked." you hummed as you closed your eyes, ready to sleep after such an exhausting day. "I love you too."

Daemon placed his head into the crook of your neck, placing a kiss on your skin and he too decided to get some sleep.

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years

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𝗐𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 | 𝖽𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝗇𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 – 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨.

𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖱𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗇𝗒𝗋𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗆’𝗌 𝖣𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖸/𝖭 𝖳𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 “𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖩𝖾𝗐𝖾𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀.” 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 – 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾, 𝖣𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖨𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍.

𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 – 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋, 𝖣𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 – 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽-𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖨𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖵𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗌, 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋. 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.

𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗉𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 – 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾’𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇. 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌, 𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼 ��𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌.

“𝖴𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾” 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖨𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖾.

"𝖸/𝖭” 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 – “𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗌, 𝖨 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗅𝗒” 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌.

𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗄𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 – 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝖧𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋.

“𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝖾, 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌” 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗌. “𝖠 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾, 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾? 𝖶𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝖾?” 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌.

𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅 – 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝖧𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎? 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖨 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗆?” 𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾.

“𝖨𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾?” 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌.

𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 – 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖾’𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗇.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝗆𝖾, 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨’𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇. 𝖨𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍, 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍!” 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌.

𝖨𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗆𝖻, 𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗇. “𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾,” 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 – 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, “𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗒 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌-” 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄.

“𝖧𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖾 𝗀𝗈 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇. 𝖨 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖨 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾” 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗒. 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍.

𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽. “𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝗍 – 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗅𝖾” 𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿.

––––

masterlists

AUTHOR’S NOTE: LEAVE ME YOUR REQUESTS. I WILL NOT FULFILL SMUTS AT THE MOMENT.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen's wife #rhaenyra targaryen

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feyhunter78 · 1 year

Text

The Innocent's Folly pt. 5

Description: Daemon brings Aemond a gift, and you find familiar comfort in Jacaerys

Previous chapter, Next chapter

It’s been three agonizing days and three sleepless nights since you were stolen from him by Rhaenyra’s eldest annoyance. He’s awoken from his sleep, the morning sun breaking, to yet another day where he is alone. Your warmth is no longer there, your body no longer pressed against his, even your scent seems to be rapidly disappearing from the sheets at a rate Aemond knows is not possible.

That strange call that could only belong to his uncle’s dragon pierces the air, and he’s soon rushed into the great hall, his father beaming at Daemon’s return.

Daemon turned on his heel when Aemond entered, a machiavellian smile on his face. “Ah, my dear nephew, just the boy I wished to see.”

His mother is trying her best to hide her uneasiness, and his grandsire is barely restraining his anger.

“Uncle, it is an honor.” He said, noting the dark canvas sack Daemon held in one hand.

“I have recently been by to visit my niece at Dragonstone and found your wife once more in her company.” He tilted his chin up, a gleeful light in his eyes. “It reminded me that I had forgotten to give you a wedding gift.”

“That is not necessary, Uncle, your presence was a gift itself.” Aemond said calmly, he admired the ruthless man before him, but he did not trust him.

Daemon shook his head. “No, in my short visit I had grown fond of your little wife. Such a chatty thing, is she not?” There was a cutting undertone to his words that no one but Aemond’s father missed. “So, I thought I would welcome her to the family and gift you both this.”

He dumped the contents of the sack at Aemond’s feet.

Out rolled a head of dark hair, piercing green eyes, now dead and dull, stared up at him.

Aemond swallowed hard, and he heard his mother gasp, the sound of Sir Criston’s armor clanking as he rushed to her aid. “My wife asked for Alys’ death?”

Daemon chuckled. “Gods, no, the sight was quite frightening to her, drove her right into the arms of her sweet Jacaerys, as she’s taken to calling him.” He dropped the sack on the ground as well. “Though she did not ask for it, I knew it needed to be done. Witches are a plague.”

Aemond sat in his chambers, staring blankly into the fire. He felt nothing when he looked upon Alys’ severed head, truthfully, he had felt nothing but lust when he looked at her whole. It was the reason he procured whores instead of flying to the Riverlands to meet her.

It was a hassle to fly out there, he told himself. Not wanting to believe that he wished to stay in y/n’s embrace instead, that he wished to hear the details of her day instead of scheme with Alys.

That usurper Jacaerys claimed he was duty bound to take y/n away, that it was the honorable thing to do. He knew the Strong boy had always had his eye on y/n, but he never thought she would go willingly. She couldn’t have, he decided.

His heart was an open wound, painful, and bleeding. He would not be able to stanch the flow if he allowed himself to accept that y/n had gone willingly. That she had left him and taken his son with her.

He was unsure of why the thought stung so deeply, and refused to believe that it had anything to do with the fact that no matter how hard he tried, it was her face he saw when he finished. Her voice he wished to hear, her skin he wished was beneath his fingers.

His mother’s entrance into his chambers knocked him from his reminiscing.

“Aemond I—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “The blood has been cleaned, the head removed, we must deal with this situation before it spirals further out of our control.”

“What would you have me do?” Aemond asked, trying to smother his pain with the cold comfort of duty.

“Nothing right at this moment. I will need to confer with your grandsire, and perhaps your father.” She pursed her lips, then spoke again. “I hoped that perhaps you were happy, that you wanted y/n and the child, your child, she is carrying, but I see I was wrong to hope.”

He wished to rip out the bleeding, beating thing in his chest, to stop the ache from further spreading. She wasn’t wrong, he was just a fool.

“I have done what was asked of me.” He said, diving further into duty, into that place of black and white, where his emotions held no sway over his mind.

His mother moved closer to him, her hand cupping his cheek. “I am sorry, Aemond. You never should have been put in this position.” Her hand dropped and she turned to leave. “But you are a man. One who claims to have honor, and yet you have dishonored your wife, and your family. Think on that as you picture what joys and pleasures Rhaenyra’s family will be plying y/n with to get her to stay.”

Aemond stared at his mother’s back, images of his sweet wife writhing underneath Jacaerys making his stomach lurch.

You’d first taken to following your lady around as you once did, happy to be back in her service, but after Prince Daemon had presented you with the dead body of Alys, you found yourself clinging to Jacaerys.

When her head was thrown at your feet, you screamed, stomach lurching, as you scrambled to get away from the bloodied corpse.

Jacaerys had come to your rescue, taking you into his arms, tucking your face into his neck as he berated his uncle for scaring you so. He smelled of evergreens and dragon, a scent so uniquely him and as comforting as it had been when you were younger. His arms were strong, his skin warm, and his hand rubbed your back soothingly as you waited for Daemon to take his prize away.

“All is well, dear heart, soon it will be gone.” He whispered, your heart fluttering at the use of his childhood nickname for you.

You stayed in his arms, holding him tightly, until a loud cough separated you and Lord Harwin shot Jacaerys a look.

Jacaerys escorted you back to your temporary quarters, lingering in the doorway until you invited him in. It was nice, talking with him again, you’d been so lonely, and now you were in a castle full of the people you loved. Not all the people you loved, though.

You still found yourself thinking of Aemond, reaching for him when you awoke. Then you remembered the dagger to your heart that was the day you left. The way he so carelessly discarded you and left you to go bed a whore, calling her by the name of another woman.

How far removed in his heart were you?

“They were using you, dear y/n, it is clear to me now.” Rhaenyra said, after another round of you telling her of your life in the Keep.

“Aemond’s cruelty knows no end.” Jacaerys seethed, taking your hand in his when you began to cry.

“Princess, please forgive me, I meant no harm, I thought Queen Alicent was longing to reconnect with you.” You said, eyes shining with tears as you looked at her.

She leaned forward and squeezed your shoulder. “Do not fret, y/n, I know you would never betray me.”

“No, never.” You repeated, shaking your head ardently.

Jacaerys and Rhaenyra looked at each other, exchanging words through glances.

“If I have any information about the queen’s movements that would aid you, I would be more than happy to divulge it to you.” You added, feeling a flame of anger spark within you as you realized how Aemond had played you for a fool.

Rhaenyra smiled gently. “Thank you, y/n, but now I think it would be best for you to rest. This has been a trying time for you.”

She dismissed you and Jacaerys.

As you walked side by side, Jacaerys spoke up, a hesitance in his tone. “There was a time I believed I might have been able to marry you.”

Your head whipped in his direction. “My Prince?”

His face was tinted a light pink, his brown locks falling in front of his face as he bent his head. “It was a childhood desire, but being back in your presence seems to have rekindled my affections.”

You placed a hand on his bicep, stopping him gently. “Jacaerys, I am still married to Aemond, and carrying his child…”

He held your hand, his free hand coming to support your opposite arm, warm hand cradling your elbow. “I am not unaware of your circumstances, but y/n I do not care. I cannot stand by and watch as he squanders the opportunity I would kill to have.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest, your eyes searching his face. “I do not understand, why did you not protest the betrothal then?”

“You seemed happy, and mother has plans to betroth me to a Lannister.” His thumbs caressed your skin, his voice soft. “I did not want to pull you from your happiness if I could not guarantee you a place at my side.”

Tears welled in your eyes once more, and Jacaerys cupped your face. “My dear heart, please, do not cry. I will cease my words, I never meant to hurt you.”

You let out a shaky breath, tears slipping down your cheeks and wetting his hands. “You make it sound so easy to love me.”

“It is, y/n, it is as easy as breathing.” He said earnestly, warm umber eyes trapping your gaze.

“Then why did he want others, why does he not love me?” You whispered, voice breaking as you finally spoke aloud the questions that had been plaguing your dreaming and waking mind.

His face fell, and he shushed you gently, pulling you into his embrace as you sobbed into his tunic.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhhaa, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshhhaa, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart

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olivefeuillu · 1 year

Text

Rhaenyra x Daemon x gn reader

Summary : Rhaenyra and Daemon’s lover came home and they take care of them.

Tags: fluff

Warning : none / mistakes

For: @kpopchangedmylifesstuff

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Rhaenyra and Daemon were waiting for their lover to come back to Dragonstone. The heir to the iron throne stayed in front of the tall window, looking at the angered water. She was playing with the fabric of her dress as she hoped to see her lover’s boat coming home. Their lover has been sent for a diplomatic mission for the Black’s cause. They were gone for a few weeks and no news came to Rhaenyra and Deamon’s ears about them.

Rhaenyra was afraid that something bad happened to them, especially when the Green’s second born son was roaming the seas and their first born was ruling the seven kingdoms.

“ They will arrive soon,” Daemon spoke calmly to calm her down.

“ I hope…” she whispered,” I miss them.”

She turned around to look at her husband with saddened eyes. He was sitting at the long table placed in the middle of the room, the rogue prince gave his wife a smile and with a hand movement he told her to come closer to him. He repeated softly : “ they will be here soon.”

——-

Their lover finally arrived a few hours later, clothes all wet, shivers running through their body caused by the sea’s cold water. Daemon and Rhaenyra’s dragons began roaring and flying over the castle, caraxes piercing screeches echoed below the gray sky. Daemon felt his dragon’s call throughout his whole body, sending shivers through his spine. Rhaenyra dashed through the castle as soon as she saw the boat coming to Shore : “ they’re here, they’re finally here !”

She called for her husband before running outside, below the dark sky and the rain. Rhaenyra held her dress and ran across the bridge. She tried to keep calm her own excitement, but couldn’t and a smile crossed her pretty face.

“ Rhaenyra,” she heard coming from the walls of rain. Her lover was standing on the bridge, looking at her with warmth. “ My love,” they dropped everything they were carrying to the ground and ran to her arms,” My love !”

She kissed their forehead repeatedly as softly as she could, Rhaenyra held their face with her hands and stroked their cheeks as she smiled with love. The princess whispered : “the days were long without you near me, my love.” She was happily crying, tears streaming on her already wet face as the rain poured down on the two.

“ It was a pain to awake without you and Daemon by my side, I regret leaving. I missed you.”

“ The children missed you, our husband too,” her embrace tightened. “ I missed you too.”

——————-

“Come,” Daemon said. “ The bath is ready.”

Daemon took care of undressing them, he unbuttoned their shirt, pulled down their pants and fixed their messy hair. The rogue prince stroked their cold back and kissed their neck as he hid their naked body against his strong chest.

“ You’re freezing,” he kissed their forehead. “ Let’s get you in the bath.”

He observed their body, looking for scars or signs of battles, but saw nothing alarming. He placed his hands on their hips and asked : “Did something happen during your your travels.”

“ Nothing much” they smiled at him while caressing his back. “I have good news for you and our Queen.”

“ Let’s keep those news for later, the good news is that you’re safe and not hurt,” he spoke gently and kissed their soft lips.

The prince picked their lover up in his arms, giving them soft praises and sweet words as he carefully put them in the warm bath. They sighed at the touch of the water on their cold skin. After Daemon placed his lover in the bathtub filled with warm water, he began cleaning their pretty face and stroking their body.

“ I love you,” he said after kissing them on their cheeks.

Rhaenyra arrived a few moments later and sat near the bathtub. She was wearing a soft nightgown and her white hair was tied into a single braid.

“ I’m happy to see you,” she kissed their forehead and stroked their hair.

They began taking care of their lover, together. She was brushing their hair carefully after washing them with her own hands. Unknotting every knot. She left soft kisses on the top of their head every now and then. Daemon cleaned their body, rubbing their belly and arms to make the dirt and dried blood disappear in the water. He took care of massaging their sore muscles.

They let their lover soak a little bit more in the bath as they talk to each other. Sweet words and names were exchanged between the three love birds. Rhaenyra was relieved, seeing her lover happy and well made her heart filled with joy. She couldn’t stop smiling at the view of her two partners talking and taking care of each other.

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#male reader #gender neutral fanfic #queen rhaenyra #hotd rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #male wife daemon #daemon x you #daemon x male reader #x reader #gender neutral #gn reader #rhaenyra x male reader

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

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maidragoste · 2 months

Text

Fatherhood

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

More of Daemon's Wife au

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

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 🥰🥰💖💖

If you have ideas or thoughts for this series you are welcome to share them in my inbox 🤭

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's like Wing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, let's go with muña!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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aemonds-wifey · 1 year

Text

The Dragon and the Wolf

Childhood Part 3

Summary: Three Years have passed since you first met Prince Aemond. You travel to Driftmark for the funeral of Laena Velaryon with your father- You are reunited with Aemond but both your lives change forever.

Your long fingers hold onto the delicate raven scroll even tighter as you re-read the words Aemond has written to you from last week. Your heart strings are aching at the passages he has wrote:

“They gave me a pig…me! They continue to mock me by laughing at me, Aegon too seems to be the ring leader in their jests. Luke is the one that gives me no rest…he sniggers and teases me. Foolish strong boy will not always be laughing.

Did you read the books I sent you? I hope you enjoy them as I did…I also have a High Valyrian book ready to gift to you when I see you next.

Yours

Aemond.”

You held the scroll up to your lips, only to remove it once you heard foot seps approach the door-a gentle knock occurred and you turned around

“Enter?” you said

You father appeared, looking at you with a waited look “are you ready? We have to leave very soon.” You sighed as you placed the scroll back in the box where you kept the rest of the scrolls you an Aemond had exchanged. Prince Daemon had lost his wife in childbirth, which only meant you would dwell on your poor mother for a few days. Yet reading Aemond's letters once again brought you a comfort ,There were so many letters you enjoyed re-reading them from time to time. Even when Aemond had little to say, they were precious to you. You produced a key from your person, Locking the trinket box and hiding the key, you knew your brother would only tease you if he read the letters and since he was not accompanying you to the funeral, you best thought to leave them protected.

🪸

The funeral itself was an interesting ceremony, Leana was given back to the sea in the tradition of her house. As you watched the ceremony take place, you occasionally looked over to see Aemond observing it all, he too occasionally glanced at you with a small smile. You spotted Rhaenyra and her husband, also her children-who to your eyes looked as much of a Velaryon as you did. Otto Hightower was the hand of the king again, you heard that Lyonel and his son, Harwin had perished in a mysterious fire at Harrenhal, a place you would not want to visit as you heard so many unpleasant stories about the castle-it was said to be cursed.

After the ceremony was concluded everybody was attending the wake outside atop one of the castles many balconies. Before you could go and speak to Aemond, you followed your father and approached the rouge prince himself.

Daemon was leaning against the stone balcony, overlooking the peaceful view of the ocean. You father bowed his head “My prince. My most sincere condolences.” Daemon nodded his head “Thank you…Good of you to come all this way Lord Stark…” he noticed you “Lady Stark.” “Prince Daemon…I am so sorry for you loss.” You said softly

“Thank you Lady Stark…your kind words are indeed moving.” He responded. He seemed genuine, until his eyes caught his niece wondering through the guests searching for someone to talk to. As you father opened his mouth to speak Daemon excused himself and shifted his way to lean on the balcony, keeping a close eye near his brother. As you stood with him you noticed out of the corner of your eye Aegon was smirking at you, nudging his brother

“That’s your bride to be? Brother well done…” Aegon said

Aemond went quiet “Indeed…you have your own betrothed to watch over brother.” Aemond said

“That idiot? Pfft.” He scoffed finishing his wine “We do have one thing in common though…” Aegon said

Aemond looked at him “Hmm?”

Aegon looked to you and then looked at his brother “We both fancy creatures with very long legs…” he giggled and left his brother “Wench!? Another!” he said.

“Aegon.” Aemond said with a sigh.

You noticed Aemond was alone, you left your fathers side-carefully moving in between brother to not catch Aegon’s wondering attention. You bowed before Aemond “My prince.”

He smiled at your approach “Lady Stark.”

You both smiled, you hated the formalities but kept it up for the sake of your current situation.

You both moved and looked over the ocean at the stone wall balcony.

You cleared your throat “ia gevie…view…” you said

Aemond frowned “Was that high Valyrian?”

“A poor attempt…” you admitted with a small smile

“Very poor…” he said

Your smiled ceased at his harsh words, but he smiled at you “But…a good effort…I apologise I did not bring that book for you…I was not aware you would be here.”

“Oh…Do not worry.” You said with disappointment in your tones

Aemond noticed and spoke “But I am glad you are here..”

You both smiled. You looked off into the distance and saw a large shadow glide through the clouds “Was that…?” you asked

“Vhagar…Lady Laena’s dragon.” Aemond said as he followed your gaze. The large shadow moved again, you caught glimpse of Vhagar moving to the sand dunes.

“What will happen to her?” you asked

“I know not.” Aemond answered, standing closer to you.

“She has no rider…will Rheana claim her?” you asked lowering your voice. Aemond scoffed “Perhaps…” “I cannot imagine her frustration….if someone else claimed her…” you said leaning your head back slightly and looking at Aemond directly. Aemond met your gaze, in that instant he read your mind and smiled again. He knew what you were implying. You both spoke for a while about your letters to each other, and how much you enjoyed the books he had gifted to you over the last few years. The sun began to dip behind the clouds and it started to get dark,

Your father approached you both “Prince Aemond…” he said bowing “Y/N we must retire for the evening, you and the Prince may go for a walk along the beach in the morrow how does that sound?”

“Are we not leaving in the morrow father?” you piped up

He smiled “We were due to, but I thought you could spend more time with your intended. Lord Corlys has allowed us an extra night.” He said.

This news pleased you both as you bowed your head to Aemond “Good night my prince…”

He nodded “My lady…” Your eyes did not break with Aemonds as you curtseyed him before leaving, once you were out of sight he looked over to the sand dunes-as the sun began to set he took a deep breath and moved down the stairs…to the sand dunes.

🌚

The clasping thud brought you out of yourself, you had never heard such a noise before. You lifted yourself up from your bed and hurried to the window to see a large dragon wing swoop past your window. Vhagar. You snuck out to get your cloak to keep you warm as you intended to greet Aemond, only when you got down the corridor you saw Jace, Luke , Baela and Rheana -when they saw you they all froze

“What are doing wolf girl?” Rhaena spat

“I heard a noise…what are you doing?” you asked

“Someone stole Vhagar! We are going to see who!” Luke said excitedly

Aemond, You knew it was him. You also knew they would not be kind to him “I’ll come with you.” You said walking towards them

“You will never ride a dragon! Mind your wolves and leave!” Rheana said bitterly

You stood over her “I will do as I please.” You said

Jace and Luke started to walk down the path ways to the caves, you followed suit. As you all found your way to a old cave that lead out onto the balconies you all stood still, as Aemond came from the other side-removing his cloak and tossing it to the side so carefree.

“Its him!” Rhaena said

“Its me.” Aemond said. He walked differently, he spoke differently

“Vhagar is my mothers dragon!”

“Your mothers dead…Vhagar has a new rider now.” He said

“She was mine to claim-“

“Then you should have claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride” he briefly caught your eye, cocked his head with a smirk before looking back at the angry sisters “It would suit you”

You couldn’t help but smirk at him, he exuded so much confidence it was difficult to ignore, before you could do anything further Rheana came at Aemond with her arms up, Aemond easily shoved her down to the hard dusty floor. As soon as he turned back around he was met with Baela’s fist to his face, he wasted no effort in returning to his feet to throw a punch to her which knocked her straight to the ground by your feet. You watched wordlessly as Aemond stood over her “Come at me again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”

Jace was the next to come at Aemond, both throwing punches-missing each other by inches, until Aemond used his leg to kick Jace down to the floor. You moved to assist as Luke screamed and grabbed Aemond, Baela’s wrist held your ankle and all you could do was watch as Aemond grabbed Luke by the throat and punched him to the floor with one throw. Jace scrambled to his feet and pushed Aemond back to the ground, Baela and Rheana joined in kicking and punching him, you rushed towards them , grabbing Baela and angrily throwing her against the cave wall-Aemond took the moment to kick Jace in the chest which sent him hurtling backwards and aggressively he shoved Rheana to the side where she fell backwards. Luke came once again screamed at Aemond, “Aemond!” you warned him.

Luke was met with Aemond gripping him by the throat, this time it was tighter-as Luke waved his arms around. You tried to move towards him but Immediately you felt Jace hit you across the back of the head with such force you fell forward-hitting your face on the ground, which Aemond saw and proceeded to pick up a rock that lay next to his arm as he raised himself to his feet. He held the

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did” He looked at Jace “Bastards!”

Jace stared at Aemond as he insulted them, Luke couldn’t break free from Aemonds grip

“My father is still alive!” Luke whimpered, blood pouring from his nose down to his chin.

Aemond’s grip softened, he let go of Luke’s and he let his hand holding the rock down slightly “He doesn’t know does he…? Lord Strong.” He snarled.

Your head snapped to the side when you heard the unsheathing of a knife, Jace held it fiercely and your heart leap with worry “Jace!” Rheana yelled, her sister holding her back.

You got to your feet to try and hold Jace back , but to no avail as he already leapt forward, Aemond hurdled Luke at him to distract him-only for Jace to swiftly shift his brother to the side and he went at him with the knife, swinging at him.

“Aemond!” you cried out getting to your feet, you felt Luke push you back down with his foot firmly on your back, the pain was horrible and all you could do was watch what followed. Aemond, without mercy punched Jace to the floor , dropping the knife as he did-Aemond towering over him he lifted his hand holding the rock again-he looked at you briefly for reassurance-he did not notice Luke crawl to the side. As Aemond stepped closer Jace threw some dirt in his face, which made Aemond step back in shock covering his left eye with his hand, once he removed it he saw Luke standing to his side-the knife Jace had dropped now sat in Lukes hand and he thrust it up at Aemonds face.

The scream that left Aemond’s lips were piercing to your ears, “No Aemond!” you said scrambling to your feet-Jace tried to hold you back “Get off me Bastard!” you yelled.

All you could do was watch as Aemond writhed on his front, the blood oozing from the gaps between his fingers as his hand covered his eye. Suddenly you were all focused on the arrival of the kings guard, Harald Westerling broke through you all “Cease this at once! Get away!”

He gently approached Aemond “My prince….My prince…let me see.”

Reluctantly Aemond turned over, you could not see the damage but all you heard from Westerling’s mouth made you sigh in despair “Gods be good….”

“How could you let this happen?” Viserys said

As the King belittled his guards you were frozen, stood not too far from Alicent and watching the Maester tend to Aemond. You felt numb, worried and angry at what had transpired. You were so much in a trance that your ears shut off the conversations bellowing around you, You father was finally in the room and he came to you “Y/N…Y/N?” he shook you gently

You snapped out of your trance and looked up at him, he noticed a few cuts to your cheek and jaw line “Gods what who did this?” he asked looking around.

“Father stop…” you said nodding at Aemond, once your father saw the state of Aemond he quickly looked around “Poor boy….what happened? Why weren’t the children abed?” he almost bellowed

Viserys looked “Aemond claimed Vhagar…and got into a scrap with the boys and his cous-”

“It was no scrap!” you yelled

To your surprise everyone went quiet, Your father looked at you -Aemond even looked at you closely. Otto Hightower even looked your way, curious at your outburst

“It was an ambush, they brought a knife!”

Alicent watched you defend Aemond, Viserys approached you “Tell me girl…why would my own grandchildren attack their uncle?”

“He claimed Vhagar and the Lady Rheana was angry…Rheana attacked him first.” You said

“LIAR!” Rheana shouted at you

“Stop it!” Viserys yelled. “Lord Stark I advise you to take your daughter to her chambers…shes seen enough tonight.”

Your father nodded “Of course my king.” He gently placed his hand on your shoulders and steered you out towards the door, only to stop momentarily as Rhaenyra entered the room, followed by Daemon, she went to her boys-you looked at Daemon as he leaned against the door frame. He nodded, you felt angry and full of rage.

Your father got you into your chambers and closed the doors , he sighed “What were you doing? Hmm? Out of bed…fighting with the royal children?”

You inhaled “Father…they attacked him. “

“Did he insult them? Hmm? They would have been provoked my girl.”

“He took the initiative and claimed a dragon, he did nothing wrong. Dragons are not an inherited pet Father”

He swallowed “You are a true Stark. Fiery tempered…still you had no business going to him. What if Luke had cut your face?”

You exhaled slowly “He’s my intended…are you saying you would not have defended mother had she been attacked ?” you asked

Your father knelt in front of you “Gods you are right daughter, anybody dare look at your mother wrong and I would go mad” he laughed a little, you smiled lightly.

“…Your loyalty to Aemond is …very sweet and promising. That boy’s life has changed forever…you still want to be his intended?”

You were almost insulted by this remark “More than anything Father.”

🌞

As predicted, Aemond did not want to walk with you in the morrow. It was for the best interest that everybody leave, the events of the previous night weighed heavily in the morning on everybody’s mind. That being said, you were adamant you could not leave without saying goodbye to him, you pleaded with Alicent to see him-she surprisingly relented and allowed it-maybe because you spoke in Aemond’s defence is what allowed it.

Before you went into his rooms, Alicent looked at you carefully “Be gentle…he is rather delicate as you can imagine.”

You nodded and before you opened the door she spoke to you again “I won’t forget your words or actions Lady Stark…Truly.” She said and smiled very lightly.

You bowed your head “My Queen”

You went in and closed the door behind you. Looking around you spotted Aemond sat by the window, looking out the open window. The fresh salty air bellowing into the room, he had heard you come in but refused to turn his head.

As you stepped towards him carefully he still did not move, “Aemond…” you whispered

He wouldn’t face you, he kept his head away from yours.

“Aemond please…” you said , your voice barely audible

He did not answer immediately , he only said after a moment “Please do not pity me.”

You could cry, to see him go from having the confidence to now reverting back to a self conscious teenager brought you a sense of guilt and discomfort-you suggested claiming Vhagar, you felt responsible.

“Aemond I wish I could…” you started

He shook his head “No…please do not say anything…”

You inhaled, holding back the tears

“I knew claiming a dragon would be no easy feat…loosing two precious entities to me to gain one….” He said

You frowned “Two…I do not follow?”

He exhaled “I can make peace with loosing my eye….but loosing you is something-”

“Aemond no.” you gasped “You have not lost me”

He finally looked at you, the scar along his eye was sore and red with anger, his remaining eye locked with yours “Surely…our betrothal is no longer valid due to this?” he asked

You shook your head, a tear escaped your eye “You think me shallow? Aemond you could loose both your eyes I still want to be your bride…”

He did not know how to register this, he looked fearful that he said the wrong thing-but you knew this was a vulnerable moment for you both, you needed to be careful. You simply took a moment and took a deep breath, leaning forward you planted the lightest kiss at the base of the scar. He did not wince or back away, he took your hand and held it in his,he simply looked at you with a relief in his eye.