#THE DRAGON PRINCE’ STATUE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

valeskafics · 8 months

Text

"Seeds of Love" - Hades!Daemon Targaryen x Persephone!Reader

a/n: the second installment of my greek gods/goddesses au! the next one will be hephaestus!aemond or dionysus!aegon 🤭

Summary: Daemon, the God of the Underworld, claims you, the sweet Goddess of Spring, for his own.

TW: dubcon, canon typical incest (reader is a velaryon), profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, abduction, fingering, oral f receiving, p in v sex, size kink/breeding kink if you squint

Word Count: 3,200 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

Sometimes, Daemon loves his position as God of the Underworld. He is not tied to King’s Landing and all its politics, rather, he is free in his own domain. Perhaps it is a bit dark and a bit gloomy, full of the dead, of course, but it is his home. His kingdom. He was always meant to be a king, he thinks, and in a way, Viserys has given him that. So, he does his best to be grateful for the life he has been given.

However, there are days when even his three-headed dragon, Caraxes, is not enough to bring him joy, days where his nymph lover, Mysaria, is not enough to soothe the emptiness inside of him, the darkness that threatens to consume him whole. On those days, he travels to King’s Landing, walking through the gardens, the Kingswood, anywhere he can bask in the sun, if only for a moment.

It is on one of those days that he sees you for the first time. The Goddess of Spring, the sweet daughter of Corlys, the God of the Sea, and Rhaenys, the Goddess of the Harvest. From what Viserys has told him, your parents have kept you safely cloistered away, far from the eyes of any gods who may wish to claim you. The God of War, Aemond, and the God of Wealth and Luck, Jacaerys, both sought your hand but were swiftly denied by your mother, who went so far as to hide you on Dragonstone for a time, fearing that one of them would steal you away.

However, it would seem that you have returned to King’s Landing. Daemon remains in the shadows, watching as you walk, adorned in a dress of fine white silk, a symbol of your purity, flowers in your hair denoting your status as the Spring Goddess. He watches as you walk, flowers blooming everywhere you step. He cannot take his eyes off of you, admiring the way the sunlight glows on your skin, your dainty bare feet that prompt flowers to bloom, the curves of your body barely hidden beneath your dress…

Daemon watches as you enter the Kingswood, accompanied by your entourage of nymph attendants, one of whom begins braiding your hair. You look beautiful, he muses, as you braid one of the nymphs’ hair in return before turning your attention to weaving yourself a crown of flowers, specifically daffodils. Daemon notes with no small degree of delight that your mother is nowhere in sight. So, he approaches you, the nymphs scattering when they see him approaching, his presence formidable.

You, however, do not notice him at first, a fact which amuses him greatly. He takes a few steps closer before saying your name in a soft, almost whispering voice.

You turn to look at him, your lips parted in surprise, “Yes?”

He smiles at this, finding your reaction to his presence adorable. His violet eyes seem to almost pierce through you as he stands tall before you, taking another step closer, his gaze flickering down to your lips, so soft and so very kissable. He feels a heat growing in his chest, a desire to take you back with him to the Underworld and claim you for his own. However, seeing the trepidation in your gaze, he realizes he must be careful.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld,” he says in a smooth baritone.

You stand up, backing away slightly, seeming to recognize him, “Does my mother know you are here, Prince Daemon?”

Daemon is not in the least bit put off by your reaction. In fact, he feels excited by it as he takes a step closer to you, his eyes greedily drinking in the sight of your curves as you move, so graceful and smooth.

“No, we happen to be away from your mother,” he says, not once looking away from you.

“Aren’t you meant to be in the Underworld?” you ask him, curious little thing that you are, gazing up at him, “Mother says you hardly come to the Keep.”

Daemon grins at you, moving in ever closer, “Sometimes I feel the urge to leave. To revel in the sun and its warmth. And when I do leave, I enjoy the company of beautiful women such as yourself.”

“She’ll be quite angry if she sees me talking with you,” you trail off, a bit uncertain as you continue moving away from him.

He continues walking toward you, slowly, almost like a lion getting ready to attack its prey, his gaze appraising you, “Why? Does your mother not trust her sweet daughter?”

“She trusts me,” you protest, your back hitting a tree, stopping you in place, “She says that it is men who cannot be trusted.”

Daemon’s grin grows wider at the realization that you cannot continue to move away from him. He moves closer to you, a primal urge deep inside of him taking control, a hunger growing in his stomach, though not for food. His eyes are filled with lust and his breathing grows heavier. He swears he can hear your heart beating just as fast as his.

“Does it not bother you to have people treat you like a fragile flower?”

You glower up at him slightly, bristling with annoyance, “I am a goddess. I am not fragile.”

Daemon enjoys the way you stand your ground, the fire in your eyes, as a mischievous smile graces his lips, “Oh, I know that, sweet one. The only fragile thing here is the restraint I am having to show in not just taking you and claiming you as my own.”

You arch a brow, crossing your arms and looking at him with an unimpressed expression, “I see why my mother says men are not to be trusted.”

He chuckles, loving the way you hold your own against him, your pride only further intriguing him, “That is a very narrow-minded thing for you to presume, my sweet, most men may be bad but not all. But,” he leans in close to you, his breath tickling your lips as he murmurs, “I do have bad intentions.”

You gaze up at him through your lashes and question, “And what bad intentions are those?”

Daemon’s eyes run the length of your body before returning to your eyes, then down to your lips, “My intentions are bad, wicked. Dark. I have never felt like this before, but right now I feel like I have to have you, no matter the cost.”

You are about to answer him when none other than your mother appears, giving Daemon a scathing look for having dared approach you. She drags you off, Daemon is sure, lecturing you all the way on the dangers of speaking to him. Yet, you turn and glance back at him over your shoulder, curious, as you disappear back into the Red Keep. Daemon’s gaze on you is hungry. You may have eluded him this time, but there will certainly be another day.

Daemon, for the first time in a long while, goes to Viserys, the God of Lightning, his dear older brother, for advice. And Viserys, happy to spite Rhaenys, is glad to give it. After all, a goddess of your age should not be sequestered away in the Red Keep, as far as he is concerned. So, the two hatch a plan, one that will ensure that Daemon gets what he wants.

He finds you a few days later, gathering flowers, looking as beautiful as ever. He observes you for a few moments, the heat inside him rising to new heights. He thinks of the plan he and Viserys concocted, his blood feeling as though it is boiling beneath his skin. Daemon makes his approach, grabbing you by the hips from behind.

“Hello again, my beautiful goddess.”

You freeze in place, though not for fear of him, he realizes as you respond, “I am not supposed to speak to you.”

You turn to face him and Daemon stares you directly in the eyes, moving closer, “Your mother?”

“Yes,” you say, slowly backing away, dropping the flowers you were gathering.

There is something in your eyes that Daemon cannot quite put his finger on as he gazes at you. Curiosity? Or perhaps something akin to desire? He has every intention of finding out. He grabs your wrist, though not roughly, pulling you flush against his chest.

“I think you ought to learn to listen to how you feel rather than what others tell you,” he says, eyes darting between your lips and your beautiful eyes which continue to gaze at him.

That is when you hear it. A rumbling. You gasp, looking around as the ground begins to shake. And soon, a great chasm opens near where you and Daemon stand.

“What’s happening?” you breathe, panicked.

Daemon grins at you as he pulls you into his arms, dragging you down with him, murmuring into your ear, “You are coming with me, sweet flower.”

You close your eyes in fear as the two of you fall for what seems like an eon, but truly isn’t more than a few moments. When your eyes open, you realize where you are. Daemon’s domain. The Underworld. You look around, realizing you are on the bank of the River Styx, staring somewhat awed at the sight, only to panic once more when a restless spirit attempts to drag you into the dark waters. You yelp and cling to Daemon, your chest pressed against his side in a way that allows him to feel you in all your splendor.

Your sweet little noises excite the God of the Underworld even more as he holds you close, “Do not panic, little one. There is nothing to fear. I will take you to a place where no one will be able to find you, not even your mother. A place where you will be mine.”

You mumble under your breath, “I do not like it here…”

Daemon lifts your chin so that you meet his eyes, “You will soon,” he pauses before adding, “Have you any idea how badly I want you right now?”

You are about to answer when you are interrupted by a low growl, one that does not come from the man beside you. You all but shriek and grab onto Daemon even closer as his great three-headed beast, Caraxes, approaches, staring you down.

“Fear not, little one,” Daemon chuckles, “You are perfectly safe with me. Caraxes knows you are under my protection.”

As if on cue, Caraxes approaches you, one of his heads licking you playfully, the other nudging you, prompting you to laugh softly, resting your hand against his warm scales, “He… He is quite friendly.”

Daemon pats his third head, smirking, “See, my goddess? He likes you. Perhaps he knows you are meant to be my queen. Even he can feel the connection between us.”

You turn to Daemon as Caraxes wanders off, no doubt in search of food, and speak, “The Goddess of Spring is meant to remain untainted-”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, resting a hand against your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb, “Do you truly think you remain untainted, my sweet? You so enjoyed the attention I gave you in the woods, did you not?”

He places his free hand on your lower back, moving it upward until he reaches the end of your dress, his fingers tracing your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He feels you shiver slightly, your body responding to his touch.

“I know you enjoyed my touch, your body responds to me in a way you cannot deny,” Daemon whispers, his thumb moving from your cheek to your lips.

They are so plump and soft that all Daemon can think about is kissing you, feeling your lips against his skin. You part them slightly and he moves his thumb between them, into your mouth. You gaze up at him in surprise, your lips closing around his thumb, suckling at it slightly. Daemon feels his breeches grow tight at the sight, loving the way you so naturally seem to know what it is he wants. He removes his hand, unable to rest any longer, pressing his lips to yours.

Daemon kisses you with an insatiable hunger, as though he wishes to devour your very being. And you do not wish to deny him. Your kiss is more shy, hesitant really, but you wrap your arms around him, returning his kiss with ardor. He bites your lower lip, just enough to get you to gasp and part your lips, his tongue moving into your mouth, dancing against your own as they meet. He picks you off the ground, carrying you off to his chambers, dropping you gently on the bed, staring down at you, his gaze ravenous, famished.

“But where will I sleep?” you ask curiously, looking around.

Daemon smirks, “Right here with me. We will do more than just sleep beside each other, however. You will be my wife.”

“My mother will never allow it,” you say, a bit bitterly as you watch him move to lay atop you on the bed.

Daemon smirks, “She will have no choice in the matter.”

He runs his hands down your sides, caressing your waist, down to your hips, then your thighs. Your back arches off the bed as you gaze up at him, entranced by his every move. You weakly protest that your parents will be furious but Daemon quells your fears with his lips against yours. Your body is so soft and supple against him, it drives him almost mad with want. He moves to kiss your neck, biting down on your soft skin, leaving his mark on you, evidence of his desire for you. His mouth moves toward your collarbone, your hands threading through his hair, nails raking against his scalp.

Daemon makes quick work of your dress, sliding it down your body, his eyes greedily drinking in each bit of your exposed skin, your bare breasts, your hips… He removes his tunic, smirking as your delicate hands reach for his breeches, unlacing them with haste. You take his cock in your hand, so long and thick and heavy. He throws his head back as you move your hand along his length, slow and curious, before gently pushing your hand away and pressing his lips to yours, wanting to feel you.

He moves his hand to the apex between your thighs as he kisses you, his fingers teasing your entrance before he pushes one in. You feel so tight around him that it’s almost hard to move when he adds a second finger, but he continues, reveling in the little mewls of pleasure. His mouth moves to take one of your pert nipples in his mouth as he adds a third finger, pumping them in and out of you at a languid pace, his tongue tracing over your sensitive bud as he gazes at you, his eyes hooded, pupils blown wide with lust.

He brings you to your peak, feeling your walls squeeze tight around him, soaking his fingers with evidence of your arousal. He soon replaces his fingers with his tongue, wanting to properly prepare you for the moment he takes you, lapping at your folds eagerly, keeping his eyes on you all the while. Your hands fly into his hair yet again, fingers twisting in his platinum locks, both wanting to push him away and pull him closer. He alternates between suckling at your pearl and licking and sucking your sensitive core, making you cry out his name, reaching your peak against him once more.

Daemon pulls back, his lips shining with evidence of your arousal as he moves up to kiss you again, making you taste yourself on his tongue. The sensation is erotic, to say the very least, and you moan against his lips, whimpering slightly as you feel him running the tip of his cock along your center, teasing you yet again. You squirm, slightly oversensitized by his previous ministrations, but that is long forgotten when he pushes himself inside you.

He fills you up so perfectly, and gods, the way he makes you feel when he begins rutting against you, the the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust, his lips attached to yours, hands holding yours, his thumb tracing over your pulse point in a gesture that feels so very intimate. He’s so big that it is almost painful, but not quite, all you can concentrate on is the mind-blowing pleasure he is giving you. He pushes your knees up to your chest, allowing him to fuck into you at a deeper, faster pace.

Daemon feels you squeezing around him, knowing your release is imminent, and moves his thumb to circle your pearl, your release triggering his own, as he spills his seed deep inside you. As he pulls out of you, he replaces his cock with his fingers, eager to make sure his seed takes, to breed you. And you simply smile at him, blissed out in your post orgasmic haze.

Daemon makes the arrangements for you two to marry shortly thereafter, and as he said, you come to see the Underworld as your home. He has one of the minor goddesses, Alys, the Goddess of Magic, create a garden for you to tend so that you may be near your beloved flowers, something you find to be entirely thoughtful and romantic.

However, your blissful time as newlyweds is cut short when Viserys arrives with Rhaenys and Corlys on his heels, declaring that you must be returned to your parents, that Rhaenys has kept the mortal world in a perpetual state of winter, demanding your return.

You try your best to tell your parents that you love Daemon, that you want to be with him, but they refuse to listen. Your mind wanders to something Daemon had told you months ago, that if one partakes in food from the Underworld, they are bound to return, mortal and immortal alike. He never wished to trap you here, so he had Alys or one of the others go to procure you food from King’s Landing.

But you see a juicy, ripe pomegranate sitting on a plate before you, one that Daemon was just about to eat.

You look between your mother, her face stern as she stares back at you, and at Daemon, who seems entirely forlorn at the thought of you leaving him forever.

And so? You do the only thing you can think of.

You walk to your husband and take the pomegranate from his plate. You take a breath before biting into it, allowing the juices from it to drip down your chin, almost making it seem as though you are soaked in blood. And you kiss your husband once more, in full view of the Goddess of the Harvest, the God of the Sea, and the God of Lightning.

Never again will you allow your fate to be decided for you.

You have chosen him, and you would choose him again, given the chance.

Your Daemon, your husband.

Your king.

#daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #my writing #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #targcest #daemon oneshot #mythology au #velaryon!reader

2K notes · View notes