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in-my-feels-probably · 2 years

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Hii

Can I have daemon Targaryen x wife!reader. She’s pregnant and the dragon egg for the child hatched before the birth. The baby dragon stay with her the hole time, sitting on her belly. Otto thinks that it’s wrong and try make the king forbid the reader of walk around with a dragon. During a dinner the baby dragon attack the food on the table and daemon and wife just laughs .

White Knight

Request: Can I have daemon Targaryen x wife!reader. She’s pregnant and the dragon egg for the child hatched before the birth. The baby dragon stay with her the hole time, sitting on her belly. Otto thinks that it’s wrong and try make the king forbid the reader of walk around with a dragon. During a dinner the baby dragon attack the food on the table and daemon and wife just laughs.

Hi! Thank you for the request, this is a cute idea. I’ve never written for the pregnancy trope, so I hope this is ok. I’m still getting the hang of writing for Daemon, he’s a difficult character to write and stay true to the nature of. Writing fluff for him is a little difficult, but I hope you like it. Let me know what you think!

(Warnings: i don’t think there are any, let me know if i missed any)

—

Daemon had returned with his pick from a clutch of eggs during your last month of pregnancy. Not that anyone else besides you could tell, but he was clearly nervous about the child coming, and went to great lengths to keep you and the child safe. The dragon in him was pure instinct, and he was fiercely protective over you.

He knew you would be alright when Caraxes started guarding you whenever you were around him, sneering at anyone who passed by. It was actually how you found out you were pregnant in the first place, Caraxes knowing before either of you did. Daemon had the instinct to protect you, it was only natural for his dragon to do the same. Especially when you were with child.

What neither of you saw coming, was the egg hatching within a week of being in your child’s cradle. You had placed a blanket in the cradle, preparing the room for the baby, when the egg began to crack. You worriedly called for Daemon, who rushed in, only to find a little tail, peeking out from the shell.

It was unheard of, at least in the past few decades, and you both were a bit bewildered about what to do with it. After all, it was supposed to be raised with your child, and connect to them, not you.

You knew it would be alright, though, when the dragon crawled out of its shell, scaling the side of the crib to rest on the perch at the top.

He was completely white, a rare color for a dragon, with hints of red on his underbelly and tips of his wings. His eyes shone a bright green. He was beautiful.

You watched its eyes narrow at you, like it was listening for something, when it finally jumped down to the rail in front of you that was level with your stomach. You had held your breath, nervously watching it, Daemon close at your side. Finally, it leaned in close, let out a small huff, and rested its head on your stomach.

You nearly melted at the sight, cooing at it, feeling Daemon’s chin rest on your shoulder. He smiled, letting a hand come down to rest on your stomach, when the dragon angrily lifted its head, sneering.

Daemon laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “That’s right! Already a little guardian, aren’t you?”

“Timpa Azantys,” you replied, running a finger along the cheek of the dragon.

White Knight.

“Azantys. That’s a good name,” Daemon said, grinning as the dragon traveled up to rest on your shoulder.

You nodded. “Azantys. I like that.”

Azantys, perched on your shoulder, and locked eyes with Daemon, staring him down. Daemon, never one to relent, narrowed his eyes, his face hard as he stared back.

“Gods,” you rolled your eyes. “He’s minutes old and you’re already sizing each other up.”

Daemon didn’t answer, eyes still locked with the dragon. “Obey.”

After a few seconds, the dragon finally bowed its head, submitting. Daemon gave it a nod, before turning back to you.

“You only have as much power as you take. A dragon is only dangerous if you let it be. If he’s going to be the protector of my wife and heir, he ought to know that young.”

You raised a brow. “I thought a dragon has no master? Are you telling me a mere man can get a beast like no other to submit to him?”

“I’m not a mere man. Targaryens have dragons blood running through their veins. With our child, as do you. He can sense that, and recognizes his place. That is why he must learn now, just as Caraxes did.”

You nodded, bewildered by the fact that your husband just told a dragon of all creatures to obey, and it actually listened.

—

In the following days, you were quite a sight to be seen walking throughout the castle. Daemon wasn’t found at your side near as much as he was before, because now, you had a dragon, always on guard atop your shoulder. He may still be a baby, but he was growing every day, and people were wary around you, even the guards.

You sat in on sessions at court, like Daemon asked you to. He advised you to pay attention, as your son would be the Lord of his own people one day, and he’d need his mother to guide him. You knew it was just an excuse, but you still obliged Daemon for his own peace of mind. The truth was, he didn’t like you being alone when he had his duties, and preferred you to be around people he trusted.

Rhaenyra started joining you as well. She was to rule one day, and took the opportunity to learn how to command. She also enjoyed spending time with you, as well as Azantys, who had taken a liking to her.

You walked into the throne room a half hour before it was supposed to start. As pregnant as you were, it took you a while to get places, and you liked to get comfortable before you had to pay attention. The only people in the throne room was the King, Otto Hightower, and a handful of guards and servants.

King Viserys smiled fondly at you, nodding as you entered.

“Your Grace,” you curtsied, at least as well as your condition allowed, before taking a seat off to the side. Azantys curled up on your stomach, head facing where the crowds would be so he could keep watch.

Otto gave you a look of disdain, his face set into a scowl. You were amused as you watched him fight himself to say something, before he turned to the King.

“Your Grace, I don’t think it’s appropriate for the Lady to be here.”

Viserys turned, narrowing his eyes at the Hand. “Whatever for? She’s come every week for months, and is entirely respectful. She’s a positive influence on Rhaenyra as well. You know she is here at my brother’s request, what reason would I have to turn her away?”

You smirked as Otto faked a smile, letting his hands join behind his back. “I meant no offense to the Lady, Your Grace. I have no qualms with her…it’s her dragon. We have the pits for a reason. It is a distraction to the court, and a danger at that.”

“It is only a danger if the Lady is vexed. The court knows well enough to leave her be.”

“But the dragon–”

“She is a Targaryen, now,” the King spoke sternly. “Targaryens have dragons. Neither have done or will do any harm, unless it comes to it, and you’ll be glad to have them against swords if the day does ever come. I will hear no more of this.”

“Your Grace,” Otto nodded, returning to his place beside the throne. He looked in your direction, and you smirked again, running a hand down Azantys’s back.

—

The following evening was a feast, the first of many for the week, meant to celebrate welcoming your very soon to come child into the world. Lords and Ladies came from neighboring cities across the Kingdom to congratulate you and Daemon on the start of your family.

You were sat next to Daemon, a few seats away from the King. Daemon kept one hand in yours, the other rested on the table as he held a conversation with a nearby Lord. Azantys, already almost too big to lay comfortably on your stomach or in your lap, was perched on the top of your chair.

The servants brought food to the tables, setting places in front of you. You listened to the chattering of all the people, not paying attention to any one conversation in particular. You were zoned out, thinking of other things, when one of the trays was accidentally slid towards you, haphazardly jostling food your way.

Azantys let out a growl, swooping down from his perch to attack the tray in front of you, violently clawing at it to push it away. He opened his jaws, breathing a small flame onto the tray, charring it.

The guests gasped at the heat and sudden movements, slightly leaning back in their chairs.

It was quiet for a moment, before Daemon broke the silence with a chuckle. You swiftly followed, holding your stomach as you laughed, wiping under your eyes to clear the tears that had fallen from laughing so hard.

“Good boy, Azantys,” Daemon smirked, gripping your hand in his. “You protected her from a stain.”

The other Lords and Ladies cautiously laughed, nervous to be in such close proximity with a dragon, albeit a small one, who had just tried to kill a tray for almost spilling on you. They uneasily went back to their conversations, and Daemon let out a low whistle, signaling for Azantys to go back to his perch.

Azantys obeyed, returning to his guarding spot above you, resuming his watch.

“If he’s like this now, imagine what he’ll be like when the child is actually here. He’s a ferocious little thing,” you joked.

Daemon squeezed your hand in return, nodding. “I’m counting on it, Darling.”

—

A/N - Hi! I hope you enjoyed this. To anyone who has sent me a request, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it, I will eventually, thank you for sending them in.

#house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targeryen x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen imagine

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dreamlandcreations · 5 months

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Imagine Daemon blackmailing you...

Imagine Daemon blackmailing you into choosing him as your husband and future King consort.

He always had a bond with your sister, while your relationship with your uncle could be described as strained at best, but the moment you were named heir his gaze shifted to you.

It's funny how fast love can turn into hate but you were not prepared to not be able to make a difference. Daemon not only stole your choice but he is slowly robbing you of your sanity. That could be the only reason why you are starting to develop feelings for your husband...

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen imagine #dark!daemon x reader #my stuff #my fics

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

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How the Hotd guys are in bed

Includes: Aegon, Aemond, Jace, Daemon, and Harwin

Warnings: NSFW under the cut

Masterlist Here

Aegon

Sub sub sub sub sub

Did I mention this boy is a sub? Aegon definitely thinks he's this dominate rock your world type of guy until you grabbed his jaw and kissed him and he practically melted in your hands and had been goo ever since.

He lives to please and get his praise in return. He talks a big game to his brother and nephews but behind the scenes he would never even touch you without begging first.

Aemond

Aemond is extremely shy. At first. In the beginning you have to take the lead and help him become comfortable but as soon as he got comfortable with you it all changed.

Suddenly he's very cocky and very encharge. He'll make sure you are satisfied before he is because he loves to watch you come undone again and again till you're practically mush in the bed. He's not done till he's pushed you to your limits but of course in a good way.

Jace

Jace is such a tease. He always starts very slow and very passionate. He's not just going to have a quick fuck and walk away. The whole day before he'll be doing his best to make you flustered so when you enter his chambers to confront him you're already half begging.

He'll start slow trailing kisses everywhere until he finally decided he had enough of making you wait. Oh gods is it worth the wait. Its hard to speak by the time he is done. He's very attentive but also the king of aftercare.

Daemon

Daemon despite his age is still a horny teenager at heart. But also very kinky. It's rare you do it in a bed. Instead you'll either be in the gardens, a cupboard, someone else's bed, in the middle of a brothel, or once even on the iron throne.

He's also not opposed to making it an open invitation. Threesomes are not rare but his focus will always be mainly on you. He's very much the dom in the relationship and showing you all the things he has learned over the years. And gods its a lot.

Harwin

Harwin is far more simple than any man on this list but that doesn't mean he's bad. Not at all. Harwin grabs you anytime he can. He loves to grab your hips, your hair, your chest, your waist. Anywhere he can get his hands on.

He's pretty vanilla apart from his breeding kink of course though whenever you ask about it he blushes and denies it. As soon as it's over he's grabbing you a towel and giving you a massage and worries he's hurt you despite you explaining it hurt in a good way.

A/N: Enjoy you sinners

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witcher-and-henry-cavill-stuff · 4 months

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𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱

𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: labor, Neice reader, angst, death.

The castle of Dragonstone was bustling with excitement as Lady Y/N, wife of Daemon Targaryen, was about to give birth to their first child. The halls were decorated with banners of House Targaryen and the sound of cheers echoed through the corridors. But within all the joy and celebrations, there was one person who was not happy - Y/N's mother, Princess Rhaenyra.

As Y/N's labor pains became more frequent and intense, she longed for the comfort and support of her husband. However, her mother made sure that Daemon was nowhere to be found. Rhaenyra had always been against their union, finding Y/N unworthy of her uncle's love and a hindrance to their family's legacy. She saw this as an opportunity to separate the two once and for all.

Y/N's maids and servants, well aware of their Princss's schemes, were hesitant to go against her orders. But they couldn't bear to see their lady suffering in pain without her husband by her side. So, they secretly sent a message to Daemon, informing him about Y/N's condition and pleading him to come to her aid.

Despite Rhaenyra's efforts, Daemon found his way to Y/N's chambers. The moment he saw his wife's pale and sweat-drenched face, he knew something was wrong. He held her hand tightly and whispered words of comfort, promising to never leave her side.

Y/N's labor was long and difficult, but finally, the cries of a newborn filled the room. As they held their child, a beautiful baby boy, Y/N and Daemon's eyes filled with tears of joy and love. But their smiles were short-lived as they noticed Y/N's weak and pale state.

Panicked, Daemon called for the maester, but it was too late. Y/N had lost a lot of blood and her body couldn't take it anymore. In the arms of her beloved husband, Y/N took her last breath, leaving behind her devastated husband and their newborn son.

Daemon's grief was immeasurable as he held onto his wife's lifeless body, blaming himself for not being there when she needed him the most. And in that moment, he swore to never forgive his Niece for her selfish actions that cost him his beloved wife.

The news of Y/N's death spread throughout the castle, casting a dark shadow over the once joyful celebrations. Rhaenyra, whose jealousy and spite had caused this tragedy, was consumed by guilt and shame. She begged for Daemon's forgiveness, but he could not bring himself to forgive her for taking away the love of his life.

As the days went by, Daemon named his son after his late wife, a constant reminder of the love and sacrifice she had made. And though he would always miss Y/N, he found solace in their son, knowing that a part of her would always live on in him. As for Rhaenyra, she spent the rest of her days haunted by the memory of her daughter's death, a punishment she had brought upon herself.

#x reader #one shot #imagine #daemon targaryen x niece reader #angst #death #pregnant reader #hotd #HOTD x reader #Daemon Targeryen imagine #reader insert #fem reader #rhaenyra targaryen

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targaryen-dynasty · 1 month

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ENCOURAGEMENT.

Daemon Targaryen x little sister!Reader

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

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

WORDS: 2.5 K

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

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You meet his eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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thebadboyfanclub · 9 months

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I Don’t Think I Can Do This (Daemon x Reader)

Hey y’all so I know I was supposed to write another request but my job has cause my imagination to ran dry and this was certainly easier cause i wanted to write something that shows the burden that women carry and also that Daemon is a very grey character, I hope you guys like it

The story of (y/n) Eaglemore and Daemon Targaryen did not start as a love story, one would suppose that seems to be a common trait amongst the concept of arranged marriages, especially to a young maiden of an independent kingdom to the rogue prince Targaryen, their marriage was the establishment of Eaglemore joining their forces with the Targaryens, (y/n) was dressed in her traditional attire with her hair in an intricate style, she was breath of fresh air in the house of the dragons, a proud Eagle that was brave enough to fly with the dragons as the flag with the colors of red and black flew next to the black and red she assumed the similarities were bound as an omen for success.

That was quickly ripped out of her mind at the bedding ceremony that she endured, the prince was not brutal, yet she had hoped that he would forbid it, he was cold and only placed a kiss at the top of her head after it was done before he left her laying while the ones that observed it cleared the room, tears streamed down from embarrassment while the handmaidens helped her get up to assist her with her bath.

“Husband!”

She exclaimed excitedly before she skipped over to Daemon who was preoccupied with having a conversation with Viserys was much more important than turning his head to face her, alas the newlywed stood by his side and reached for his hand to get his attention, innocently she squeezed it only to be met with an annoyed expression as he gazed intensely at her.

“What?! (Y/n)! Did they not teach basic manners in your homeland?”

“I-I just, I wanted to give you this, I sewed it for you, it’s the dragon symbol with the eagle”

“Great, give it to the handmaidens, is that all?”

Suddenly she became hyper-aware of the pie of eyes around her, mostly men that had taken interest in the scene that unfolded in the gardens, she felt like a little girl scolded by her father, she bit her lower lip as her shoulders sunk in defeat, the glimpse in her eyes slowly disappearing like a light snuffed out.

“My apologies, I did not wish to interrupt you and the king, I hope you can forgive me, y-your grace”

“It is quite alright, my dear, for what it’s worth I found your creation a wonderful gift, do not pay attention to daemon he has never been good with gifts”

“If that means I have never been good with gifts that have no use then yes, I agree”

“I shall go, excuse me, your grace, husband”

She curtsied before she ran off, her chocolate-colored hair swinging left and right in her ponytail as her eyes looked down to hide the tears that she desperately held back, Daemon watched her and could sense the damage he had caused, sometimes he would catch himself staring at her with purity and interest, he had even smiled once when she struggled to find the right word in his language.

He should have stopped, he should have held his tongue when the evident quiver of her chin started to show when her eyes bounced in different directions as she wanted to gather her composure, but he didn’t, now Daemon stood as still as a grain of salt whilst she once again ran away from him covered in shame.

“She is your lady wife Daemon, must you be so hard on her?”

“A wife that was bestowed to me”

“She is also someone that was bestowed a spouse, yet she took it with grace and is grasping desperately to create the best out of the worst, as a man that prides himself on his intelligence your lady wife has surpassed you, at least in principle and empathy”

Daemon was stunned, as Viserys spoke in such kind words his words slashed through Daemon like the sharpest of knives, this was Daemon's second marriage, and it had become second nature to be rude and unattainable to his lady wife since the bronze bitch shared the same hatred as he did for her, now the cheerful lady with the deer like eyes and red puffy cheeks had been nothing but kind, a foreign pain in his chest started to make Daemon uneasy as she ran further and out of his line of sight.

“If I were you I would be very ashamed”

(Y/n) sat in front of the mirror as one of her handmaidens lit her candles and the other brushed (y/n)s hair to prepare her for bed, (y/n) stood as still as she could though her fingers intertwined with one another and twisted in odd ways.

“Could you leave me with Chiara, please? Thank you”

(Y/n) requested softly, the young handmaiden only curtsied before she walked out of (y/n)s chamber, whilst Chiara continued to brush her hair, they had grown into a bond that (y/n) felt comfort in, Chiara was sweet and honest, somewhat older, and had just given birth to her first child, she was the first handmaiden that she met when she got to the red keep.

“Do you love your lord husband?”

“I do, now”

“What do you mean?”

“I married him per my father's request, and he gave the biggest dowry, at first it was difficult, we had to figure out a way to communicate and after a while, I like to think that he grew to love me as much as I love him, though first, we respected one another, then love came gradually”

(Y/n) grew silent, her head hanging low before she bit her lip in defeat, she respected her lord husband? Did her lord husband respect her? After the incident on the morrow, it certainly didn’t feel like it.

(Y/n) had not noticed that Chiara had scrounged in front of her and placed her hands over (y/n)s, she only saw the tears that splashed over the handmaidens' skin.

“You won’t always feel like the outsider”

“I don’t think I can do this”

“You can, it is alright my dear”

One sob came after the other as (y/n)s body shook and Chiara lovingly wrapped her arms around the lady’s frame in such delicacy, it resembled a girl hugging her porcelain doll while she tried to not crack it, in its macabre nature you could identify a certain beauty, someone that had the strength to comfort a disheveled young lady as she navigated through womanhood and all its trials.

What had (y/n) nor Chiara had taken into account was that Prince Daemon had made his way to the half-cracked door, freezing in his sport once the whimpers of agony hit his ears, he peaked through the shadows only to be met with his lady wife letting tears stain her dress and hiccups shaking her hunching back as the handmaiden rubbed circles on her back.

“Prince Daemon is a fool for not acknowledging the precious stone that is you, may the gods bless him and open his eyes before he is taken from us”

Daemon had no reason to intervene, the poor lady was right, he was a fool, here she was, a beautiful and intelligent young royalty crying over his acts, he had always longed for home, for family, and now he kicked and toyed with it.

He should be the one comforting his lady wife, to gaze upon (y/n)s puffy and red face and do his best to calm her nerves, not to be the face of her pain, shamefully he scurried away without a word, mad at his reflection that stared back at him in such high horse, he had become everything he hated, a man that did not care about anyone but himself, stopping at nothing to prove he was right.

“Good morrow”

(Y/n) did not respond, she only raised her head and nodded at Daemon that had just entered the dining area, exhausted from crying the lady felt like a family of horses had run over her, getting barely a wink of sleep, evidently so by the veins under her eyes.

(Y/n)s silence was deafening to Daemon, however, he cleared his throat and took a sit next to his lady wife, waiting for a servant to pour him some wine.

“Orange juice? I believe we do not grow these over here”

“A gift from my mother, she said orange juice in the morning is a secret to a woman’s beauty”

“She must be the most astonishing lady back in your line”

“You met her, on our wedding feast, I believe you were too busy to pay attention, like always”

The last comment was barely above a whisper still sharp as a knife right on Daemon's abdomen, Daemon only turned his gaze at her, confused by her demeanor, it wasn’t uncalled for yet it took him by surprise, she always seemed to have the ability to hide her agony at least in public.

“Mayhaps we could go to her, I’m sure she will be more than happy if her daughter visited her”

“Not if my belly is flat, as much as she wanted me to be thin for most of my life she is now sending raven after raven to just check in with my monthly bleeds”

She informed him in a mumbling tone while her hand was rubbing circles on her temples, visibly annoyed over her mother's disregard for her well-being and hyper-focused on her womb.

Daemon was taken back by her comfortability to speak over her monthly visits, brushing it off easily though since they were husband and wife after all, those matters should concern him as well, the idea of a sweet little child running to (y/n)s arms brought him joy.

“It must be uneasy, being put in this position”

“Indeed and if I am being honest, my lord husband has not been making it any easier, with my empty womb nor his attitude”

“I understand you are cross with me”

“Can you blame me? You humiliated me”

Her tone switched from my king to a hiss, her eyes spewing fire as she stared back at him, it was the first time that she dared to show her true emotions, albeit Daemon could detect that it wasn’t just an act of anger but a sense of fear was laying behind those hues of hers.

He was correct, (y/n) feared for her future, the whispers of Daemon's visits to the street of silk, the adoration for his niece, his continuing ignorance over their wedlock, it all came crashing on her chest making it unable to breathe sometimes.

“I came to break my fast with you as a sign of goodwill, I want us to work on our relation-“

“Us? There is no us, you made sure of that my prince, you have crashed all my efforts and now you dare to speak of us”

“I cannot correct my past mistakes, I can only hope that you will allow me to work on our future, you did not deserve my coldness and for that, I sincerely apologize, I only wish for your good graces and for you to allow me to show you how I truly feel for you and our wedlock”

Silence, her eyes focused on his to scatter for one ounce of a lie, alas she was left with nothing, a sigh left her lips as she sunk to her chair defeated, why did the gods curse her with such a difficult match?

“I do not know if I can love you, I tried to desperately earn your affection for so long, I have grown tired of this”

“I know you have and I do not blame you, I beg you, my sweet (y/n), let me try”

His hand had found hers to hold, the warm flesh against hers grew goosebumps, a small beam of light found its way into her soul and a ghost of a smile appeared as (y/n) glimpsed upon their hands locked together, she gave him a subtle squeeze to see if this was a dream or reality.

“I suppose trying couldn’t hurt”

“Thank you, now you must eat, your mother might be right you have lost some weight”

“My efforts of getting accustomed to your foods have not been working”

“You do not have to, we can bring a cook from your homeland, my lady wife shall eat whatever her heart contents”

“There are some delicacies that I believe you would enjoy”

“I am not very picky with food so I will try anything you put in front of me”

Chatter was something (y/n) could easily do, however, even though Daemons spirits were high, (y/n) would steal glances of caution at him, was this another scheme? Or was he genuinely craving her presence and good graces?

“I was hoping you could come to meet Caraxes later”

“I do not know if that is the best idea”

“Nonsense, Caraxes is a part of me, therefore a part of you by law, soon our children will have their eggs on their cradle, if you are surrounded by dragons you need to get used to their presence”

Requests are open!

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raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months

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A Fruit So Sweet (House of The Dragon One-Shot)

Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Daemon's noticed you before, and tonight he makes his first move.

Fic type: fluff

HOTD: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Targaryens had always been a source of fascination for you. Their slim jawlines, and bright, white hair. They looked so… holy up there in the Sept and in the Castle, like Gods and Goddesses looking upon their subjects. They were about as close to the Gods as you could get. You often wondered how the common folk felt, looking up at them with their bejewelled necks and glinting armour.

And that wasn’t taking into account their dragons either. Great, big beasts that could block out the sun as they flew overhead. They were beautiful. When you were young, you often thought about sneaking off to the Dragon Pit, stealing an egg and waiting for it to hatch. Then you could fly away when it was old enough and go and live somewhere secluded. Or even just travel, and live where you please.

At least that way there would be no expectations on you except the ones you placed on yourself.

But you were young then, and all children had to grow up eventually.

So you did your duties, curtsied when required, learnt your needlepoint and sat through age after age of lessons with the Septors. Your only real peace was in the library or the gardens. Hidden away where you could let your legs splay like a man’s would, or hunch your back over a leatherbound book. You could be unladylike and no one would know. Or care. It was the perfect escape.

Until he started coming around, possibly looking for his own escape. He hadn’t noticed you the first few times, or maybe he just pretended not to, but when you saw him, you’d always snap back into place, sitting pretty like a lady should.

You had your book in front of your face, elbow on your knee and hand propping up your chin. You were hunched over the novel, enraptured by the tales of daring, dragons and adventure. You were so enraptured by the words on the page that you didn’t notice the arrival of another person in the back corner of the gardens until a hand was between you and the pages, raising your chin with their fingers.

Oh.

“My, aren’t you the picture of decorum,” he teased, eyes glinting with mischief. You snapped back into yourself, your brain suddenly catching up to the situation at hand. Your back instantly straightened, though his fingers lingered under your chin for another few moments. Then they were gone, taking their warmth with them.

“My apologies, my Prince,” you breathed, suddenly very aware of the heat in his gaze and the fact that you were both out here in the gardens, hour growing darker by the minute and unchaperoned. “Would you like the solace of the gardens? They’re quite peaceful at this hour, I find. Should I take my leave?”

You make to escape to the safety of the castle halls, but Daemon stops you, fingers brushing the skin of your bare arm softly to keep you from leaving and yet giving you room to run should you need it.

“Running away so soon? And without your gift, too. You wound me, my lady-“ he practically purrs, a sly grin spreading across his lips. You tear your eyes from where his fingers brush your skin, sliding up his chest and settling on his mouth.

“Gift?” You echo quietly, confusion evident in your voice. Daemon’s grin widens just a touch, almost imperceptible. Gifts weren’t common unless a courtship was underway, and the Prince had so far not shown any interest in you as far as you knew. But then, they didn’t have to. All a man had to do was woo your father to get to you. Not an easy task, thankfully, and yet… “My Prince, I-“

Daemon shushed you gently and presented you with a pomegranate from behind his back. You looked at the fruit, perfectly ripe. You’d always loved pomegranates, but they weren’t common here, and they were expensive. A frivolous expense saved for the royal family, your father would say. You’d only ever had one before on your fifteenth name day. It was a memory you cherished deeply.

Daemon arched a brow when you still hadn’t taken the fruit from him, and you reached for it gratefully. You roll the fruit in your fingers, finally meeting his gaze.

“Thank you, your Grace,” you say, a coy smile playing across your lips. You can’t help it. He is rather handsome, even if a bit older than yourself. You play at the thoughts of being his wife. His strong arms holding you at night, watching he and his dragon, Caraxes, come in after a long flight. You shake the thoughts from your mind. One pomegranate did not mean that Daemon Targaryen wanted to wed you and take you far away- no matter how much you might wish for it. “A very kind gift.”

“I’ve seen you,” he says, disregarding the praise, and you stand, putting the book onto the chair you were just inhabiting. “Hiding away. What do you hide from?”

You look over his shoulder out at the bay below. If you close your eyes, you can almost hear the water lapping at the shore. You shouldn’t be out here. You shouldn’t be having this conversation. The Court was well aware of Daemon’s reputation, and being caught out here alone would do no wonders for your own.

“I…” you fight to find the right words, not wanting to be offensive but not wanting to lie or bend the truth either. “Everything.”

Daemon doesn’t reply to that. It’s a silent request for you to elaborate, but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you’re talking about anyway.

“Do you not want to see what the world has to offer? Do you not want to fly away and live a peaceful life away from the burdens of our society? To be improper and free?”

Gods, you’d do anything to take a big bag of gold and set off somewhere else. Anywhere else. Maybe a nice villa in Quarth, or perhaps Dorne. It was true the Westerosi had a delicate relationship with the Dornish, but you’d always wanted to see the Dornish countryside. You’d read about it, of course, and had seen the painted ink artworks etched into the geography books the Septors had you memorising from the age of six, but that was nothing compared to being able to see it, to feel the sand in your fingers. You’d never even seen sand, locked up in the castle as you were.

Daemon doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. The way he looks out upon the view of the bay below tells you everything you need to know. He does.

“You’ve never travelled far then?” He asks, effectively deflecting the conversation from both the topic of himself and back onto you. He was quite good at that, deflecting probing questions about his person. Daemon was a relatively private man, not that there was anything wrong with that.

You let out a rather unladylike breath and clasped your hands together around the pomegranate.

“I’ve not been past the castle gates, my Prince,” you replied sadly, eyes flitting to the castle walls below. You’d been here your whole life. It was too dangerous, supposedly, to travel far. Especially when the common folk were unhappy. Or so father says.

You do not miss the slight furrow of his brow, but it is smoothed only moments later. He takes a breath in and turns back to you.

“Now that is a shame,” he clicks his tongue. “Perhaps I should sneak you out of the castle one night and show you what fun you can have in the city below.”

Your eyes widen comically at the thought, and you find yourself spluttering at the proposition. Underneath the inbuilt horror response to the idea of leaving the castle, however, you consider what you might see if you were to accept.

Taverns and drunkards laughing and singing their songs? Market-goers scrambling for the best price on a rare fruit? Or perhaps dog fights? You knew, of course, there were also far less enjoyable things happening on the streets below, but they didn’t sit right on your mind, so you attempted not to picture them.

“Perhaps,” you reply amicably. “Though what I would truly love to see is over the Narrow Sea. Other lands…” Your smile turns upwards slightly. “Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

Daemon chuckles, keeping a close eye on you. Then here’s there, in your space, crowding you against the banisters and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger playfully.

“Would I be permitted to call on you tomorrow?” He asks devilishly, eyes glinting in such a way that tells you that he doesn’t much care what your father thinks about calling on you. All you need to do is say yes. “We could take a stroll in the gardens, or… perhaps-”

Your mouth makes a sound, and you have to stop yourself from interrupting him. The words die on his tongue and he nods his head for you to continue.

“I do apologise, your Grace,” you rush out. “It’s just… would you perhaps take me to the Dragon Pit? I should love to see your dragon.”

His expression appears familiar, as though this is a request he has heard before.

“I don’t think your father would take too kindly to me taking his eldest daughter to the Dragon Pits, my lady,” he replied amusedly, lips twitching.

“It will be our little secret,” you hush back, biting back a laugh. Daemon seems to like this, the idea of a secret between you.

“Allow me to walk you back to your chambers, my lady,” Daemon says, reaching for your book and letting the ringlet of hair go. The action sends a shiver down your spine but you allow him to do so. You thank him for the kind offer and the both of you set off towards your family's chambers.

It’s a short walk, which is a shame, but you find yourself giddy at the prospect of what the morning may bring.

When you reach your chambers, your father is waiting for you, watching the moon draw darkness through the windows. The hour is late and he was worried for you, and when he sees Daemon kiss your hand goodbye with the promise of seeing you tomorrow, his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“You won’t mind, will you, my lord?” Daemon feigns the question, knowing that as the Prince, he cannot say no. “If I call upon your daughter again tomorrow?”

Your father agrees to it, but he doesn’t look overly pleased. He’s aware of Daemon’s reputation as well, clearly.

You bid Daemon good night, thank him once again for the pomegranate and set about your routine before you retire for the evening. You do not, however, expect to get much if any sleep tonight, though.

Tomorrow you meet a dragon. Daemon Targaryen’s dragon, no less.

What more could a girl ask for?

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 3 months

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The Dragon and his Wolf

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!Stark!reader

Warnings: Daemon and his pure Valyrian blood obsession, he is a bit of an ass in the beginning, becomes obsessed after, sassy Stark reader, smut

Summary: Daemon always prided himself with the knowledge of having pure Valyrian blood. The wish of his grandmother changes his views drastically.

Daemon always prided himself with the knowledge of having pure Valyrian blood. He always proclaimed his wife would be the same. A woman of pure Valyrian descendants. Until his grandsire, King Jaehaerys betrothed him to a savage. A woman of the North. A wolf. A Stark. It was the wish of his late grandmother, Queen Alysenne, for one of her grandchildren to be bonded with her beloved North.

He was taken aback. Screaming to not marry her. Claiming he would rather cut off his cock then marry a savage wolf of the North. King Jaehaerys looked at his grandson with anger flowing through him. “You will as I say. Or you will be offered to Castle Black.” His voice boomed through the throne room. Begrudgingly he bowed to his grandsire and king’s demand. Daemon seethed quietly swearing every Valyrian curse word he knew under his breath.

Prince Baelon, Daemon’s father, took his son’s shoulder and escorted him out to the courtyard. He led him to the training grounds and threw him a wooden sword. “Come on. Let’s spar. I haven’t seen you hold a sword in a long time.” He grinned at his younger son.

Daemon scoffed at the training sword. He hadn’t held a training sword in his hands since he was nine years old. Now ten years later he had Dark Sister, his family’s ancestral sword. “These swords are shit, father.” Baelon laughed. “You can’t be so picky when you are on the battlefield surrounded by enemies and you lose your sword. You have to take the nearest sword,” He swung at his son with another training sword. Daemon blocked immediately. “Or you will be dead.”

Baelon smiled proudly as Daemon blocked his blow. “I am proud of you. I hope you know that.” Daemon grinned at his father’s soft words. “I know father.”

Meanwhile in Winterfell resided Daemon’s bride. A quiet, timid thing. Her father wanted to shield her from anything he could but an order from the King was an order. Starks were known to never break an oath.

So she was packed and shipped off to King’s Landing a fortnight after the letter of the king arrived. A carriage ride so long the young Lady Stark wished she could have flown with a dragon.

The first meeting with Prince Daemon was unpleasant, to say the least. He made no attempts to converse as both of them strolled through the gardens. He didn’t even so much as look at the young lady.

Hurt and anger bubbled up inside her chest. Emotions she rarely brought forward. The young Stark stopped in her tracks and turned to her betrothed. “Have I done anything to upset you, Prince Daemon? Given you a reason to be cross with me?” Anger was sparkling in her icy eyes as Daemon looked at her.

He raised an eyebrow but went on. Not answering his betrothed questions. She looked away from him. Her anger brewed quietly as she walked on. The awkward situation going on for hours.

His behaviour towards his betrothed went on even until their wedding. He ignored her, dismissed her, and never listened, to or answered her questions. The young lady felt smaller than she ever had. Which Daemon saw and liked. He wanted to break the savage, young wolf. He heard about the proud Starks of the North. He wanted to break her; show the Starks they gave him the weakest wolf of the pack.

But she knew better. And slowly she turned the tables on her betrothed. Every time Daemon called upon her, she would decline. Saying she wasn’t feeling well or she needed to prepare for the wedding. Sometimes even giving some lazy excuses like attending an afternoon tea with the ladies of the court. Most of the time she lied so she wouldn’t have to face her betrothed. It was a repeating occurrence she would sit in the library in an armchair in a far corner of the impressive room. What she didn’t know was this corner was Daemon’s.

Daemon became frustrated shortly after the third rejection. He couldn’t play with her feelings today. Which frustrated him to no end. Not even the whore in front of him gave him the kick he needed. His mind drifted off to her. He imagined the young Stark being held down by the neck while he drove inside of her.

The woman’s moans became hers. The woman’s begging became hers. Her skin and hair turned into his betrothed’s. Daemon reached his peak faster than ever before. He pulled out, releasing his seed on the woman’s back. As he looked at the woman, he imagined how she would look with his seed on her back. Or how the sight of his spend leaking out of her cunny would look like. He wondered how fertile northern women were to other Westerosi women.

His mind whirled around until it came to a shrieking halt. The she-wolf had entered his mind and made residence there. Tormenting him every waking hour. She began to even plague his dreams. Sometimes he would only dream about her in different scenarios. Like when she smiled softly, a soft blush on your cheeks as she tried to converse with him.

And some nights, he dreamed about their impending wedding night. How she looked up at him, pupils blown mouth open as she softly moaned his name. How she would gasp when he drove into her. How she would cling to him for support. How her back would arch or how she would look on top of him. Riding him.

He woke up after those dreams fairly hard and aching. Yearning to be touched, but not by anyone except his she-wolf.

Lady Stark sat in the library reading when she felt a presence standing in the room. She looked up and saw a bewildered Daemon with a book nearly falling out of his hand. “Something wrong, Prince Daemon?” She softly whispered. Daemon couldn’t answer her right away. He looked at the book and read the title. History of old Valyria. He didn’t know his future lady wife had an interest in history. But then he remembered he didn’t know her at all.

“A history book. Are you interested in a time before us?�� He sounded meek which made the corners of her lips quirk. But the young lady didn’t want to be as mean as him. So she indulged in the conversation. “Yes, very much. I find it fascinating to learn from what our ancestors did so we would end up here where we are. Maybe even learn from their mistakes.”

Daemon’s eyes widen. She was young, one and six to be precise. But wiser than some Septons would ever be. More mature than him with his ten and eight. His father often said he was still a boy learning. And his father was right, he was still a boy learning. Learning about his future spouse.

He now saw how immature and juvenile his actions were until now. Drinking until the early morning and blacking out. Indulging in carnal acts with prostitutes. He was once proud of being called Prince of Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince. But now he wasn’t so sure anymore. He wanted her to be proud of him. He needs the approval of her. In the last few weeks, he became obsessed with his Lady Stark.

“May I sit with you? Mayhaps show you more books on the subject of old Valyria?” She smiled softly making his heart flutter. Seeing he would change. Princess Aemma was right. Daemon could change when a mirror was held in front of him.

The wedding was granted. Nearly every house in Westeros attended. But Daemon ignored them all. He had only eyes for her. His bride, his wolf. He never told her about his nickname for her. Only said it in his head or the safety of his room as he pleasured himself to the image of his wolf.

He was embarrassed by how many times he had to leave their meetings to relieve himself and his aching cock. Only a soft touch from his bride could set him ablaze with desire. He felt slightly embarrassed. Something he wouldn’t like to admit, especially not to the object of his desires and fantasies.

The ceremony was too long for Daemon’s taste. He could have gone only with the cloaking ceremony and the exchange of vows and be done with it but this wedding was also for show. His betrothed looked so otherworldly as she stood in front of him. He could only gaze into her beautiful eyes. He wished he could drown in them.

Before the High Septon was finished declaring them man and wife in front of the attending people and the gods, Daemon already sealed their lips together. It seemed like an innocent kiss, but Daemon’s hunger was laced into it. She could feel it.

At the feast she danced, laughed, drank, and ate with her new husband. They had grown closer over the last weeks. Forming a bond similar to a friendship but not quite. Sharing their love for history and myths as they sat in the library for hours.

Daemon’s eyes never left his wife’s form. He was engrossed by her completely. He never left her side and always had a hand on her body. She liked the attention from him. For once she knew he appreciated her.

The feast was slowly winding to an end. But for Daemon the night only began. He led her to their marital chambers with a firm hand, eager to get his wife alone. To see her out of her dress. Claim her body, claim her as his.

As the door closed, Daemon stood behind her, pulling her to his front. “I have waited for so long to get you alone.” Shivers ran down the young woman’s spine as his smooth voice flew in her ear. Daemon’s hands ran up from her stomach, over her rips and under her boobs.

Her breath hitched. “So responsive, zoklītsos.” Little wolf. His hand wandered further up. He cupped Her breasts softly, squeezing them a bit. She let out a soft moan. Daemon smirked. “Tell me, zoklītsos, are you ready to play with fire?” Her breath came out in shallow breaths. A whine escaped her lips.

His free hand reached for his dagger on his side. He unsheathed it, cutting open the laces of her dress in one swift motion. She gasped loudly as the dress loosened on her body and fell to the floor in a heap. Daemon’s grin widened.

Her arms tried to cover her chest as the fabrics on her body were ripped from her. But Daemon already covered them with his warm, large hands. “Don’t you dare cover yourself?” He whispered hotly into her ear. Biting the shell of her ear. “I want to see it in all its glory.” He mouthed at her neck, biting down harshly. Leaving his mark on her skin.

A small whimper escaped Her lips. Shivers ran up and down her spine. “Iksan vaoreznuni, valzȳrys.” I am sorry, husband. She whispered into his neck. Her lips ghosted over his jaw as she tried to compose herself. “Valyrīha? ao ȳdra daor jorrāelagon naejot seduce nyke dombo.” Valyrian? You don't need to seduce me anymore. He huskily whispered against her temple.

One hand slipped from her breast and trailed down between her legs. He ghosted his fingers over the patch of hair before he softly cupped her mount. “I have imagined this, she-wolf. How you looked. How you sound. All those little whimpers.” He mouthed at her jaw. “But most of the time I imagined your little cunny. All wet and tripping for me. Ready for me to plough you.”

A shuddering breath escaped her lips. “I hope I won’t disappoint you.” Daemon chuckled. “You will not. You will never disappoint, ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

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buckybarnesb-tch · 10 months

Text

Alpha!Daemon Targaryen meets his Omega

The king had taken you in upon realizing that you were an Omega.

You were the daughter of Vaemond though he would never acknowledge you as his as you were just a bastard, though you were also the first Targaryen offspring of any kind that was an Omega in nearly 100 years. There were a few Alphas such as Daemon and Corlys but no Omegas.

Viserys ensured you were given the best education possible (considering you didn’t present until you were 14 and had lived as an orphan until then) and kept you close with constant guards, unwilling to risk a rouge Beta deciding that fucking a Targaryen Omega would be fun.

You became quite close with Rhaenyra and neither of you was usually seen without the other. You had arrived in the palace after being found by a guard in the street only about 2 weeks after the beginning of Daemons war in the step stones.

You had been told plenty about Daemon by your best friend who admitted she had had a little crush on him before falling in love with Ser Harwin Strong. You wondered quite a bit about the rouge Prince but for the most part you put it out of your mind.

You didn’t meet Daemon until 3 years later, you had settled into being a lady and for the most part gotten a handle on life in the capital, so of course someone would show up and turn it on its head. The smell washed over you almost instantly as he knelt down before the king, handing over his make-shift crown and you froze. You had always been tense around Alphas, it’s just common sense when you’re an Omega, especially one without any kind of defense training which you didn’t have since you had guards at all times but you do wish you could feel safer in knowing you could protect yourself, at least a little bit.

His scent though…it washed over you in waves and you were overcome by the rush of calm and need your Alphas scent delivered you. He was in the middle of hugging his brother when his body went stiff and you knew he smelled you too.

“Help?” You whispered to Rhaenyra, her looking over you and realizing what was happening fast.

“Are you sure? It could only be-“

“Your Omega brother! This is wonderful! Y/n is the only Omega in the castle, where are you child?” Rhaenyra pulled you down and through the side door, having avoided the guards who were listening to Damon’s shocking news.

“You do know you can’t avoid him, right? Daemon is…tenacious to say the least.” She teased and you smiled a bit as you both quickly made your way outside and into the gardens.

“I understand but I don’t want all of those people watching like it is their own affair.”

If anyone understood you in the world it was her, for the most part at least. You were only alone in the Godswood for about 5 minutes before you heard footsteps and looked up to see her father walking towards you with a battalion of guards.

“Go, it’s okay. Get back to your room, you’ll be safer there than anywhere else. I’ll handle my father, go!” She pushed you and you stumbled back before running through the bushes of flowers and trees, only just having looked back to see if she had followed when you plowed into a firm, hard body.

“You must be Y/n.” He spoke and you nodded your head cautiously, taking a step back but his face softened. “Don’t be frightened. I know my reputation but no harm will ever befall you while I am here lovely Omega.” His face was smirking but the thrumming bond that snapped in place the second you smelled each other was weighing down on you, pushing you to relax. “I mean what I say, you are safe my sweet Byka rūklon. I am your protector now.” (Little Flower)

He held out his arm, I suppose trying to be less intimidating and I enjoyed it quite a bit having heard the tales of Daemon Targaryen, rider of Caraxes. Everyone said that you couldn’t help but feel fear when he stared down at you, an intimidating presence to say the least but all I felt from him in that moment was adoration. I took his arm after a brief pause and he smiled, his face relieving itself of that signature smirk and led me back to the castle. “Oh Good! You’ve found her brother.” The king spoke as he stood by the door with my guards who moved to stand behind me before Daemon stopped them.

“You two have been relieved of your duties.” They looked stunned for a second but given that its Daemon that said if they quickly took off before he decided to have their heads removed from their bodies for standing too close to me.

“Brother? You can’t possibly think you can protect her alone, you have duties to-“

“I very well could protect her alone! However I will choose guards to stay with her who won’t lose her in a throne room whenever she decides to go for a walk. I need men far less stupid and I will appoint them when we return to Dragonstone to marry. You’ll love it there Byka rūklon, I promise you. Let us go, the flight will take about 6 hours.”

“You’re leaving already? Daemon, don’t you think-“

“I would like to marry my Omega as soon as possible, you understand that brother. Nothing that need be too planned, we will marry in the ways of our ancestors. I will wait until you and Rhaenyra can be there, I’m sure my Omega wants her friend there, don’t you Byka rūklon?” I nodded quickly.

“Please? It would feel wrong without her…Alpha.” I added Alpha at the end, seeing how much he longed for it by the look on his face.

“Anything you want, always.” Daemon pulled me close to his chest, kissing my head and I welcomed the comfort he now delivered me, his scent flooding my senses and effecting me greatly. “Will you bring her things for her my dear niece? It will be greatly appreciated.” I could tell Daemon was rushing as he began moving again and I knew how much he hated these people and this place, pulling me towards the exit with the King and my friend behind to see us off I suppose. Rhaenyra had told me how much Daemon preferred Dragonstone to Kings Landing, less conniving, conspiring people there and one less Otto Hightower who I admittedly didn’t like either. Speaking of whom.

“Daemon, leaving already?” We we’re almost at the door to the front gates when he had cut him off, looking at me the entire time. He had always stared at me and struck me as the sort of Beta I needed to be protected from. My guards always kept me at least a good 5 feet from him making me incredibly grateful that they answered to the King directly and never the Hand.

“I would like to be back on Dragonstone with my Omega as soon as I can, not that it’s any of your business.” I could hear my Alphas distaste in his voice as he practically spit the words at him. As Otto took a step closer I tightened my grip on Daemons hand and he looked down at me curiously, seeing I wouldn’t take my eyes off of him and that seemed to be enough.

“Well we will certainly miss your presence in our halls my dear Omega.” Daemons hand was gone from mine so quickly I barely had time to look up before he was pressing him to the wall and choking the life out of him.

“Daemon!” Viserys shouted, watching his brother but keeping the guards from stopping him, turning his head to me.

“You think you get to call her that? You think that’s appropriate for you Beta?! No one calls my Omega that but me, you disgusting old bat!” Otto was making a choking noise and while I enjoyed it I knew I had to calm him now before the Hand lost his head. While Daemon would be in his rights to protect me, many would dispute it and we surely wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

I reached out, placing my hand onto his shoulder and while his muscles tensed for a second they quickly relaxed again. “Alpha. It’s okay.”

“Why do you fear him? Answer me quickly Omega.” He warned, his hand tightening and a quiet whine coming from Otto.

“I am uncomfortable with the way he looks at me, however the guards never let him close. All is well…Please Daemon? If you kill him leaving now is not an option.” I reminded, his hand releasing the man instantly and turning to me before he collapsed to the floor.

“His eyes will never linger on you again Byka rūklon, you have my word…brother. I will see you in a few days. Do not bring this snake with you.” He turned to hug his brother as Rhaenyra hugged me close.

“Hop on Syrax and come visit often, okay? You can stay a few nights, escape Alicent and skip your schooling with me.” I teased feeling her giggle as she held me.

“I promise. I’ll come a few weeks after the wedding.”

“Weeks?”

“You’ll be busy afterwards, trust me. I know Daemon. He has the blood of the Dragon, and it runs hot. Be safe, and good luck in the sky. Hold on tightly.” I was confused for a moment before understanding her meaning. I had always hesitated to get onto Syrax with her, scared of falling off but now it’s not Syrax I’ll be riding.

My hand was taken again and pulled out the door and towards the big red beast in the courtyard causing me to pull back, Daemon turning to face me and smiling at my nervous face. “It’s alright Byka rūklon, I won’t let you fall.”

“What about getting eaten before I even get onto him!?” He snorted, holding me to him tighter and leading me forward, the dragons eyes on me as we got closer.

“Caraxes understands more than you think, he feels what I feel for you and he would never hurt you because that would hurt me.” The white haired man took hold of my hand and held it in his with his other arm around my waist, holding my hand in his up to the giant scaly creature. “You are the only person other than me that he will feel the need to protect. All dragons protect their riders mates, but Omegas even more so.” He leaned into my much smaller hand and I felt his cold scales on my skin, Damon moving my other hand to stroke up his snout.

“Rytsas Caraxes.” I knew my pronunciation was shit but the Blood Worm made a purring noise that rivaled my own with how deep and lovely it was.

“That was wonderful. Has Rhaenyra been teaching you?” I nodded my head.

“So that we could talk without most understanding, especially the Queen.” I giggled, continuing to pet the Dragon who leaned his head into my body which would have knocked me over had Daemon not been behind me holding on.

“Lykiri!” Daemon commanded though he just continued leaning into me.

“It’s okay…I like it.”

“Hmm…just wait until you are carrying my child. He will never want to leave your side. Aegon the Conquerors Omega was nearly always with Balerion when she was with child, he was a protective beast. Knowing Caraxes you’re going to have an even harder time being alone.” He teased and while he meant to make me laugh it actually sounded quite nice to be honest.

“We’re going to be the best of friends, huh?” He trilled out a wonderful sound but unlike the sound a bird makes the ground nearly vibrated with it, it was so deep. “I think I like the sound of that.” I told Daemon whose hand traveled down from my waist to cup my sex through my dress making me gasp as my body became tingly.

“Then we’d better get started, shouldn’t we?” He spoke in my ear, causing my body to shiver excitedly. “I’m going to fill you up so full there will be no doubt that you are carrying my child, and no Beta will dare lay eyes on you again! You will spend the rest of forever filled with my children, Gods I want to fill this cunt so desperately! All mine!” He growled, his other hand now squeezing my tit as he kissed my neck roughly.

“All yours Alpha! Whenever you want, forever!” I was becoming very turned on but just as quickly as he started groping me, he stopped and lifted me over his shoulder roughly, climbing up onto Caraxes and placing me in front of him so I would not fall off.

“Hold on Omega.”

“You think!?” He cackled at my shout and I rolled my eyes.

“Riding dragons is what you will be doing the rest of your life, enjoy it, there’s no way to get away from it now.” His threat was playful but I considered it for a moment…I don’t think I want to get away from this. This is perfect.

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sublimitymp3 · 10 months

Note

hi hope you have a nice day :) if you have time could you write hotd's yandere boys (estranged) romantic reaction to his reader wife giving birth to twins? (I apologize in advance if this bothers you or something I swear I didn't mean to :( take care :)

I'm back 😈😈😈

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Aegon was madly in love with you, his darling wife, but he never quite knew how to show it. He had awful habits of drinking, whoring, and gambling, only pushing you further away from him. Each time he'd come crying to you on his knees promising he'd do better, you'd hold him and suppress your feelings, but enough was enough. You were pregnant, carrying his child and he couldn't even make an effort to stop his wanton ways. You were fed up, and rightfully so. You had moved into your own separate apartments, eating your meals alone in your rooms, and avoiding places around the Red Keep you knew your husband would frequent. Eventually, the months passed, and you neared closer to giving birth each day, until one night, your labors finally had begun. Aegon was at some brothel wasting away and getting drunker by the second it seemed. He had no clue you were in the midst of your labors, nor that you would be bringing in not one, but two of his babes into the world. It is only the next day does he wake from his slumber, hungover and feeling ill, does he find out you had given birth. He rushes to your chambers to see you sitting up in bed, cradling two swaddled babes, each one with little tufts of white hair and violet eyes. He'd immediately burst into tears at the sweet sight, begging for your forgiveness and swearing to the old Gods and the new that he would change his lecherous ways for you and his newborn children. Despite your apprehension to forgive him, deep down inside you strangely felt that he would truly honor his promise this time.

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Aemond seemed so cold to you. He was distant and rarely ever spoke to you unless it was necessary. Even when you'd try to initiate conversation he'd only respond cooly with a yes, no, or a simple hum of acknowledgment. You'd tell yourself at night when you lay alone in bed that it could've been worse. He could've been prone to striking you, or he could flaunt paramours in your face. He could've been a drunkard, a wastrel, or a cruel and sadistic husband. However, your efforts to comfort yourself would be in vain, as the feeling of loneliness festered within.

Despite Aemond being a withdrawn husband, you both had done your duty on your wedding night and so it was no surprise you had fallen pregnant. Unbeknownst to you, Aemond was growing more and more obsessive over you once he had been told you were now carrying his child. He didn't mean to be quite neglectful, he only wished to not overwhelm you with his less-than-normal feelings of obsession towards you. He practically stalked you, despite the fact you two were married and expecting a child. The months passed, and Aemond would open up a bit more, showing bits of care and concern toward you in your fragile state. But even then, his actions seemed cold and his words curt. When your labors begin, Aemond remains in the hall outside the birthing room, despite wanting to rush to your side. He decided right then and there as he heard your screams of pain that he would no longer keep up this distant farce. He didn't care if you'd find his attentions odd, he just couldn't bear to torture himself or you any longer. Once he could hear the wails of a baby, he'd rush into the room to be greeted with the sight of two, small, and wailing babes laying on your chest. He'd come to your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he admired your newborn twins with a small smile. You felt hope for your marriage at that tender moment, the first hope you had felt in such a long time.

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Jacaerys loves you so much, he truly does, but sometimes you feel as though he puts his duties of being heir above you. He takes his role extremely seriously, as his mother's claim is already shaky due to her being a woman, and his even more so due to the concerns of him being legitimate or not. He doesn't mean to neglect you, to dismiss your attempts at spending time with him, or to hardly inquire about his babe that grows within you. By the time he notices, the damage is already done. You had given up any attempts to spend time with him, to conversate with him, or to merely be in his presence. It seemed to you that he put his duty before you, and you couldn't see how you could change that. Honestly, Jace is so sweet I can't imagine him not immediately coming to you and apologizing immensely for being an inattentive husband, so for the sake of this, let us imagine he finally realizes the effect his actions have on you by the time you are in the midst of your labors. He'd be pacing outside the birthing room, mentally chastising himself for being so foolish. How could he have ever been so stupid to leave you alone when you needed him most? How could he be so cruel to the one he loved most? Your muffled screams of pain from beyond the door shattered his heart even more, and all he could do was wait in borderline painful anticipation. When the maester does let him in the room, he rushes to your side. He apologizes immensely, kissing your tears away and brushing the hair that sticks to your sweaty face out of the way. When he holds the twins for the first time, you watch him adoringly. Everything seemed right again.

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Ser Criston didn't get to see you much. You two were wedded in secret, as due to his vows as a member of the King's Guard, he wasn't allowed to wed or father children. You were a common girl, living in the city, and Ser Criston spent his days and nights at the Red Keep. He could only visit you on his rare days off, and even then those were kept brisk due to his paranoia someone would discover you. You had always tried your best to be understanding, after all, you knew what you were getting into by being romantically involved with a member of the King's Guard. But an awful thought would always linger in your mind whenever you would see Ser Criston: did he regret marrying you? The thought would persist, never leaving like some parasite that had latched onto you. In fact, as the months passed and your stomach swelled with his child, it only grew. He looked uneasy every time he'd stare too long at your pregnant belly, only feeding that awful thought in the back of your mind. Sometimes, you would even find yourself questioning your marriage to him, doubting it all. Your marriage grew tense, and though none of you voiced these feelings, it was evident the doubts festered within both of you. The day Ser Criston visited you after you had brought his twins into the world, he looked shocked. The color seemed to drain from his face, as he saw them. Not one, but two, living breathing children, evidence he had broken his vows. But the heartbroken expression on your face as you held back tears slapped him back into reality. He would quickly kneel by your side, whispering to you how he loved you and the babes more than anything, and that he regretted nothing. When he finally holds the babes, his smile was so genuine, and his eyes were filled with nothing but love. At that moment, those awful doubts faded from your mind, never to be thought of again.

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Daemon longed for battle. He loved you dearly, and so desperately wanted to stay put with you and your unborn babe. But when the fighting in the Stepstones had begun, and the perfect opportunity to spite his brother for refusing to name him heir arose, he couldn't resist. You had begged him to stay, far too worried for the peril he would most certainly face during battle, and fearing for his life. He brushed you off, leaving you behind.

You spent your nights alone, praying to the Seven to keep your lord husband safe so that your child would have a father. He barely wrote to you, and you found yourself getting more and more frustrated at him for leaving you and your child behind to participate in some war that didn't concern him that much. And it wasn't like he wanted to help for some noble cause, you knew he only joined to spite his brother. Instead of spending the remainder of your pregnancy happy with the notion of your child growing within you, you spent it crying tears of anger and sadness.

When Daemon first hears word from a messenger that you had given birth to healthy twins, he abandoned his petty attempts to establish his own kingdom to spite the king. He would return to you as fast as he could, proud that you had given him two strong and healthy heirs. Daemon wasn't the best at saying apologies and preferred to show them through actions. The Stepstones could wait, all he needed right now was to be with you and the newborn twins.

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when that 3am inspiration pulls you out of your sixth month hiatus 😍

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in-my-feels-probably · 2 years

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Could u do an imagine where reader's hair is red and daemon's absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you.

Would u consider doing an imagine where its basically daemon and the reader have a love /hate relationship but then they confess their love when Daemon comes back from tbe StepStones

My Fire

Request: Could u do an imagine where reader’s hair is red and daemon’s absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you

Hi! I love this request, it’s so cute. I wish I had red hair, I’ve dyed it a wine color before, but I’m considering dying it a copper color at some point. I didn’t know if you wanted bright red hair, or something like ginger, so I left it kinda up to the reader, I hope that’s ok. Also, I made the reader fem, and a friend of Rhaenyra from another house, so I could make sense of the reader's hair color. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

And yes, I can write that other request, just submit an ask with any ideas or details you want and I’ll add it to the list.

(Warnings: i don't think there are any, maybe an ooc daemon, let me know if i missed any)

—

Rhaenyra had finally convinced you to let her braid your hair, framing pieces around your face and twisting the strands into intricate designs all around your head. You normally kept it simple, and out of your face, pulled back neatly.

With the amount of time you spent with Rhaenyra, often on dragonback, you didn’t have the time to fiddle with your hair, as it would get tangled anyway.

Even then, you had no great love for your hair. The high born boys of your house often made fun, teasing you about the color. As you grew older, the boys turned to men, and the comments became a lot cruder. Rhaenyra, ever the fiery spirit, always had your back. You were a handful of years older than her, and it was quite funny to see a little girl instill fear in boys twice her height. Although, you supposed that had more to do with her father being the King, and her Uncle, who had quite the reputation, being fiercely protective over the pair of you.

Rhaenyra often begged to have you let her do something with your hair, so you could hold your head high and walk with confidence, and you finally caved to her incessant pestering. And you had to admit, you did look quite nice when she finished.

“You have plans with my Uncle today, do you not?” Rhaenyra asked, smirking.

You raised a brow, watching her grin. “You’re such a little meddler! Is that why you kept asking? I swear, you’re too much like your Uncle.”

“That’s why you love him,” she laughed, blocking her face from the pillow you slung her way. “And he loves your hair, you know that. Why hide it from him?”

You groaned, hiding your heated cheeks in your palms. “Gods, you really are like him. I bet he put you up to this. You two are always a recipe for a disaster. You could take down the Seven Kingdoms if you put your mind to it.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Bold plans, for a later time. For now…you have to meet with my Uncle. Off you go, now.”

She shooed you away from her, blowing a kiss in your direction. You rolled your eyes, opening her chamber door. “I’ll get you back for this. And him too. You both have nothing on me. You should be scared!”

You accepted Ser Harwin’s arm as he closed the door behind you, guiding you down the steps that led towards the Dragon Pit.

“Thank you, Ser.”

He smiled and nodded, returning to his post outside Rhaenyra’s door. “Good day, My Lady.”

You made your way to the pit, anxiously awaiting your day with Daemon. You arrived to see him standing in front of Caraxes, seemingly talking to him. You laughed to yourself, watching Caraxes find you in his sight, perking up at your presence.

You whistled, smiling as Caraxes bristled, letting out a happy shrill that mimicked yours.

Daemon turned at the sound of your voice, a grin creeping its way onto his face at the sight of you. He smiled, a genuine rare smile, holding his hand out for you to take.

“My Lady,” he greeted, as you stepped up to greet Caraxes. The dragon lowered his head, letting you run a light hand down his nose.

Daemon watched you in awe, amazed at how he managed to get a girl like you. As far as he was concerned, the whole of the Seven Kingdoms paled in comparison to the woman who was akin to fire.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I was going to say you look beautiful, but that’s a bit of an understatement. You’re always beautiful.”

His smirk grew as he watched you fight the flush in your cheeks, and he continued on to save you from the embarrassment of stuttering like a fool in front of him, which he regularly made you do.

“I see Rhaenyra finally got her hands on you,” he said, twisting a loose curl around his finger.

“She did,” you nodded. “I’m not quite sure what her fascination with it is. Who knows how many times I’ve wished for hers. Your family has beautiful hair. I’ve hardly ever met anyone with mine, aside from a few Tully’s. Even so, theirs is auburn, they blend in well enough. I might as well have lit a flame atop my head.”

“That’s a good thing. Everyone else is dreadfully boring. You stand out.”

Daemon was still transfixed with your hair, twirling it around his finger. You watched him, amused.

“I suppose so. As do you. But yours is regarded as royal. It shines like a silver star. What is mine like? A..uh, a–”

“A dragon,” He interrupted your thoughts, his eyes suddenly meeting yours. You held your breath under his icy gaze. He reassured you a second time. “Like a dragon.”

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head, confused.

Daemon gazed down at you thoughtfully, gently moving you to stand behind him. You remained silent and followed his lead as he led you to the edge of the pit, where Caraxes had settled. He kept a protective arm in front of you, although he knew Caraxes wouldn’t harm you.

“Caraxes,” He called, clicking his tongue to get the dragon’s attention. “Sōvegon.”

Fly.

Caraxes flapped his wings, lifting into the sky.

“Dracarys!”

Caraxes let a tumbling roar emerge from his throat, breathing fire into the sky above him.

You watched in wonder, feeling the heat on your skin as the flames danced in the sky. Daemon slid his hand into yours, turning your attention back to him.

“You’re like a dragon, with hair to match. Flames and heat, scorching to the touch. Like an inferno, embers dancing in the sky. You might not have the hair of a Targaryen, but you have the heart of one. Caraxes can sense it, and I can sense it. You’re akin to fire, like me. And it’s beautiful. Wear it with pride. Wear it with power.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, filled with overwhelming emotion. You squeezed his hand in yours, and he bent down, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Issa gevie, se iksā gevie. Ñuha mele. Ñuha perzys. Ñuha zaldrīzes.”

It is beautiful, and you are beautiful. My red. My fire. My dragon.

You brought a palm up to rest on his cheek, swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, before running your fingers through his hair.

“Ñuha qēlos,” you returned, watching Daemon fight the flush that crept onto his cheeks.

My star.

“Aōhon,” he nodded, holding you close to him, one of his hands finding its way back into your curls.

Yours.

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this is kinda short, I’ve been really busy and haven’t had the chance to write. This was my first time writing for Daemon, I hope it’s alright.

#house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targeryen imagine #daemon targaryen #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #rhaenyra targaryen imagine

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milliesdiary · 2 years

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 — 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you get injured one day and your self-proclaimed "rival" has a problem with it.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; rhaenyra, daemon, alicent, jace, aemond, aegon

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; "who did this to you?" trope, blood, kind of gory (?), fluff. female reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; this piece was based on this request! also i just had to use that line alicent said to aegon in that one scene... it was too fitting omg. enjoy :)

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀

you and rhaenyra have always had a rocky friendship. sometimes there was an unspoken sort of distaste, one that neither of you had a reason for; your views just did not align, and you did not agree on how certain events had been handled in the past. as these disagreements grew, so did the rift between you. but as a vital part of house targaryen, you remained there for years despite the hardships and helped her with tedious tasks. whenever you spoke with the princess, your words were clipped, short, and to the point: something you are sure rhaenyra appreciated as well. you assumed she hated you, and accepted this way of life — until the second you got hurt.

you’d been watching ser criston training the boys in the courtyard, and on accident, a sword managed to get too close and sliced right into your forearm. the second you rush into the palace with a knight behind you — a palm clutching the wound to stop the blood from dripping onto the expensive flooring — has rhaenyra reeling from her place on the sofa. you expect her to grab someone, but instead she’s rushing up to you, an unknown emotion swirling in her light eyes. “dear gods,” rhaenyra whispers lowly, taking your wrist in one of her hands to inspect the damage, calling down the hallway for a maester to bring a cloth. when she locks her gaze with yours, you see it: worry. “what happened? who is responsible for this?” rhaenyra asks, her lips drawn into a taught line and lightly shaking your arm with every word. the second you tell her, she’s screwing up her face in both indignation and annoyance. “i must admit,” rhaenyra mutters, grabbing a cloth from a shocked servant woman and tugging you along to where you presume you’ll be getting medical attention. “i am sick of his incompetence.” when you lift your eyes to stare at her in wonder, you find that she’s already focused on you. with a sigh, she lifts her chin to look ahead, her steps down the hallway resolute and grip on your wrist secure. “at least we will have a scar to match,” rhaenyra murmurs, and her attempt to lift the mood is successful. the moment you smile at her, she’s doing the same. it’s warm. it speaks volumes: all those years spent together weren’t a waste.

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍

you and daemon never got along. perhaps it was his attitude that made your hackles rise, or his brash way of speaking that had you prickling with annoyance. either way, the prince was constantly antagonizing you. to your chagrin, you surrendered yourself to a world of teasing; however, things changed when you accidentally took a hard fall onto the floor, thanks to aemond and aegon rushing through the palace in a quarrel and knocking you down.

you make your way down a long stretch of hallway, waving away the boys’ apologies and trying to ignore the blood dripping down your knee under your dress. searching for your chambers with a wince falling from your lips, you presumed you were alone: but there daemon was of course, walking the opposite direction. he at first gives the slightest of smirks in your direction, though it falls when he catches sight of you limping. daemon stops in his tracks, eyeing you with that razor-sharp gaze of his. “what happened?” he questions coolly. before you can even say anything, daemon is sauntering over and aggressively lifting the hem of your dress. you make a surprised noise, one that he ignores, and clicks his tongue when he sees a chunk of skin missing from your knee. “and which inept cunt did this?” his voice rumbles, tone interweaved with venom and... anger?

it’s a reaction you weren’t expecting, and he knows it the second you stare at him in silence, mouth gaping open. a servant stops and gasps at your wound, turning to grab someone, but daemon stops her with his stern voice. “i’ll take care of it,” he barks out, before placing a protective hand around your waist and guiding you down the hall. his grip on you is tight, and you swear you see a slight quirk of his lips when he speaks. “the moment you are bandaged,” daemon says, voice deep yet almost a whisper. “i will have the head of whoever did this. and you are going to tell me.”

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

you both had been friends at some point, but after you got into a fight with her father, it ended abruptly. from then on, you always butted heads in some way. still, both of you always tried to keep any sort of conversation between one another civil. it could be awkward, though, having to talk with her at meetings and avoiding eye contact throughout the day, or being in each other’s company without a single word spoken. so once you cut your finger on a blade after trying to rid a loose string from your dress, and alicent enters the room as you cover the cut in a cloth, you’re surprised to find that her brows are knitted together in concern. the gasp that falls from her mouth when she notices the red, raw slice on the tips of your fingers is loud — you swear she almost steals all the oxygen in the room.

in almost a motherly instinct, the queen rushes over, her green gown swishing behind her like a silk scarf. alicent takes your hand in her own before her focus flashes up to you. by the way her dark gaze flies over your face, you can tell she’s trying to analyze your expression, to gauge your pain level. “are you alright?” her hands quickly find themselves upon your shoulders and she aligns her face to yours so you look her dead in the eye. “who did this? was it jacaerys? lucerys?” she questions angrily, voice coming out fast and harsh once she mentions the boys names.

you tell her what happened, and her face softens a bit, the crease between her brows softening. “i thought you hated me,” you whisper as alicent takes a peek under the cloth, assessing the damage. the words has her head shooting up to stare at you; she appears shocked. after a few beats of silence, the woman’s hand comes to rest on your cheek and her lips twitch into the smallest of smiles — something you haven’t seen in a long time. it’s filled with something akin to friendship. no, stronger than that. love. “you imbecile.”

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄

some sort of rivalry settled itself between you and jace as children. you both always competed with each other in almost every aspect; sword-fighting, your training, studying for the septa, literally anything. your chats were full of sarcastic remarks and rebuttals, along with stares of jealousy and frowns from losses.

when ser criston goes too hard on you training, however — knocking you down and causing your head to hit the ground — a hatred grows deep into his gut. his temper is a copy and paste of both his parents: upon seeing you sit up with a groan, he is placed into a chokehold by a force that’s scarlet, scorching, and nearly agonizing. it’s one of those rages that make your chest ache, almost as if your heart has been used as a pin-cushion. “is this what you do?!” jace spits, stepping between you and ser criston cole, glaring at the older man with fiery eyes akin to raging flame. “place harm upon your pupils?” he's upset, his voice much heavier to match the intensity of his furrowed brows and pinched gaze. it’s not the first time ser criston has gotten too heavy-handed with a sword or words: he has seen him egging aemond on to mercilessly beat luke in a practice duel. he’s ushered away by ser harwin, but you’re surprised when he holds his hand out to you to help you up. for some reason, you take it, and it feels right. jace’s palm leaves yours only to land on your shoulder as he leads you out of the courtyard; he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, it seems. in an effort to contain his fury, he scoffs and shakes his head mockingly.

“what a farse,” he grumbles, coming to a sudden stop: his gaze settles on you, and his words are suddenly soft. “is your head alright?” those lovely eyes of his bore into yours, crowned by brunette wisps of lashes as he awaits a response. when you nod, he forces a tight grin and takes you by the hand. he looks a little sheepish as he does it. embarrassed even. maybe jace didn’t hate you as much as you thought he did. maybe he didn’t hate you at all.

𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

similar to jace, there sits a rivalry between you and aemond. it started when you were younger — two children fighting to prove their worth — and sat with you until adulthood. while you did talk, your conversations were mostly teasing and emotionally provoking. he angered you in plenty of ways, doing little things he knew would be annoying: giving hidden smirks while walking by, jesting, throwing small insults here and there. naturally, you would have thought aemond holds an ill-will toward you. that being said, when you got hurt during a practice sparring match and escorted into the castle by a knight, aemond catches sight of you. having one eye has forced him to become more perceptive, more wary — so it isn’t difficult for him to see how you try to cover up the crimson-red seeping from a cut your palm. you don’t even realize he’s there until you hear the knight address him, and then you turn and aemond is at your side.

without even asking, his large hand is grabbing harshly at your arm to steal a glance at the wound. “gotten yourself into trouble, have you?” comes aemond’s voice. you instantly snatch your hand back, giving him a confused stare, and he returns it with a cool look of his own. something deep and primal has been lit within him; you can see it, and the knight can certainly see it as well, judging by how they decide to remain distant behind you. with a quiet rage in his eye (we KNOW aemond can give off the scariest silent wrath) he orders, “tell me; who is it from?” you try to explain it was an accident, but aemond is not having it. your rivalry has been about one-upping the other and making each other’s lives more difficult, so you’re stunned that he even gives a shit. “whoever dared to lay a single hand on you,” aemond says lowly, tone graced with deadly contempt, “will not live to see my brother crowned.”

you just gape at him with those pretty eyes of yours, puzzled, and aemond offers you a sly smirk. he says nothing else, but his body language holds the unspoken words: i will destroy them in every way i know how. aemond detaches himself from your orbit, walking away on a mission to find out the assailant. he knows you wouldn’t tell him, so “justice,” in his mind, needs to be served by his own hand.

𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍

like rhaenyra, aegon’s distaste toward you comes from differing viewpoints. he finds your beliefs annoying — who says he can’t sleep with any maiden he can get his hands on? who cares if he gets drunk and lazes around? he just can’t fucking stand how intrusive you can be when it comes to his choices, so he avoids you whenever possible. sometimes you end up in the same room, sharing glances at one another, but not speaking much besides uttering each other’s titles in greeting. you manage to treat him well though; you make sure the servants remember to make his bed, have him eat properly, and even send him wine despite disagreeing with his drinking tendencies. still, he struggles to be in the same room with you — and you with him. you’re just being nice toward your future king, and even if it kills you, it may be worth it in the long run. besides, it’s not like he cares about you anyway. thus, you don’t think much of it when a hand-maiden bumps into you and knocks hot tea onto your neck, scalding the skin there. it leaves a blistering burn, one that you can’t hide.

when you are collecting the empty goblets from aegon’s room shortly after, he walks in; you can tell he’s ready to shoo you away, to tell you he does not have to be mulled over… but he stops himself after seeing the peeling red blotch on your throat. quick to judge, aegon’s face screws up in resentment and he takes multiple heavy steps to stand in front of you. “what is this?” he asks, staring at you with a frown until you explain.

“that whore,” aegon almost growls, taking a steadying breath before looking toward the door. “i ought to find her. teach her that she will get what she deserves.” when you grab him by the elbow and tell him it doesn’t matter, aegon rips his arm from your grasp and shakes his head, stark-white hair waving about his face; no one shall bring any sort of harm down on you — because unbeknownst to you, and perhaps even aegon, you’ve made a home in that heart of his. although he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s claimed you as his woman. “this is bordering on treason,” he states angrily. then, after shooting you a softer look, he snatches you by the arm to draw you close. “these commoners will have to learn not to toy with me. or my playthings.”

#house of the dragon #daemon targeryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #jace targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #aemond x reader #rhaenyra x reader #alicent x reader #jace x reader #aegon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #hotd imagines #house of the dragon fanfic #millie’s works — 📓

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

Text

semi-human nature {alpha!aemond targaryen x omega!reader x alpha!daemon targaryen}

{summary} a visit to king's landing goes awry when you go into your first heat— unaware not only that you are an omega, but also that your uncle and stepfather are alphas.

{word count} 6.7k

{warnings} smut (a/b/o standards like heat, breeding, knotting, all that good stuff; kinda dubcon because the reader doesn't totally understand what's happening at first), incest and stepcest (the reader is rhaenyra's daughter making her daemon's stepdaughter and aemond's niece), virginity loss, kinda painful sex/pain kink near the end, threesome, oral m receiving, spitroast, discussions of pregnancy, infidelity (daemon is married to rhaenyra), basically no plot just filthiness

Your visits to King's Landing were far too rare for your tastes. You didn't mind that Dragonstone was your home, it was beautiful there and you and your brothers found plenty to do and see— but you missed the old castle at times, missed the adventure and mystery there. Most of all, you missed your extended family. Though, really, you only missed some very specific members of it.

Firstly, you missed your Aunt Helaena, because she'd always been kind to you and taught you some things when you were a girl— like how to braid hair and how to play her flute (but you were never very good at either). Secondly, and much more, you missed your Uncle Aemond. As cunning and cold as he could be to others, he tended to be sweet with you, as long as you could remember. The older you both got, the more you started to feel more than a friendly, or familial, connection with him— your girlish daydreams sometimes drifted to what it would be like if you married him someday, but you figured that would never happen with the growing animosity between your family and his. Still, when he smiled at you, or when he kissed your head the tender way he did, you couldn't help but hope he felt as you did.

But you loved your family here, of course— your mother was sweet to you, as her only daughter, and your stepfather Daemon loved you as his own. (Some cast a suspicious eye at the two of you, thinking maybe he loved you more than his own… but he was just affectionate, that’s all.)

In fact, he was being characteristically tender with you as you approached King’s Landing, rubbing your arm reassuringly until you smiled up at him. “I’m sure you’re the happiest of any of us to be here,” he told you with a smirk.

“You aren’t happy to see your brother?” you pressed, but he never answered. Your conversation was interrupted by the end of the journey being reached; they were waiting in the courtyard for you, and even though there was a tension in the air between everyone, you couldn’t help but smile shyly at Aemond. He looked back at you, the smallest curl growing on his lips, and your heart fluttered.

For now, you had to behave calmly and politely. But as soon as dinner preparations had begun and everyone had separated to manage individual matters, you ran through the castle to find Aemond in his chambers— and flung yourself into his arms with a squeal of delight.

He hugged you in return, though he tried to soothe you as he laughed softly at your excitement. “It hasn’t been so long, has it, niece?” he asked with a smirk— so smug about the way you clearly had missed him.

“You missed me too, didn’t you?” you sighed, pulling back to look up at his face; he wore the softest smile for you— his one eye sparkled brighter than the sapphire when he looked at you, you swore it, and you were glad you caught him without his patch to hide behind.

“Of course, sweet girl,” he promised. “My— you’ve grown, haven’t you? Weren’t you a little girl last you visited? And now I’ve got a woman in my arms.”

You flushed with warmth in your face and chest when he spoke like that— you felt most like a woman in his arms, anyway, even though your stepfather had commented more than once as well on your development as of late. “You act like I’m so much younger than you, Aemond,” you mumbled shyly. Somehow, you felt most like a woman when he held you; and, even more strangely, most like that little girl he remembered when he looked at you like that.

The embrace was cut short when you felt that dizzy feeling again, your eyes blinking quickly and the heat of your flush growing almost unbearable for a moment. “Are you alright?” he asked, seeing your dazed reaction.

“Y-yes, I’m— this happens,” you mumbled, trying to find your balance again as he stepped forward to keep you from falling. “Fainting spells— w-well, except I don’t faint… I just feel strange.”

He narrowed his eye, looking you up and down. “Strange?”

“Hot,” you whispered, throat a little dry— suddenly you could smell him, and he smelled perfect: it reminded you of snow-covered pine, icy and sturdy just like him. Why couldn’t you smell that before?

He pressed his hand to your forehead, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering. The heat just seemed to spread all over you, and your head spun as your knees went a little weak. “How long has this been going on? Do your parents know?” he asked quickly.

You struggled to keep your thoughts in order enough to answer, a cramp hitting your gut all of a sudden— that had happened before, too, but the episodes never lasted this long before… which was why you hadn’t told your parents, it didn’t seem notable at the time. Now, of course, as pain twisted inside you, you regretted that. “J-just… just a few…” you tried to respond, but then you couldn’t even remember how many days it had been. All you could remember was this moment, and you reached up to clutch at his shoulders. You swore you heard him growl as he pulled you into him, and the noise made a shiver run through your body.

“I think you may be— fuck,” he interrupted himself, and you felt his nose brush against the side of your face as he breathed in deeply beside your neck. You were so soothed by his touch that you didn’t even really consider how bizarre it was that he buried his face there, smelling and tasting your skin. “You’re presenting— poor thing, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t know what that meant, but yes, it hurt; you whined as you nodded, making weak fists that tugged on his leather tunic.

“I can help you,” he promised, “I can take that pain away.”

“Uncle,” you whimpered, “please— help me, please, I don’t understand what’s hap—”

“Shh, sweet girl,” he cooed softly, “you’ll be alright— it’s all well, I’m here now… I’ll help you, omega.”

Your eyebrows knitted— you weren’t sure you heard him right… omega? Maybe it was a Valyrian word you hadn’t heard before? You’d always daydreamed during your lessons as a child, and you certainly were less fluent than your uncle Aemond.

“All you have to do is as you’re told,” he instructed. “Do what I say and I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you whined again, another cramp in your core hitting— and with it, a heat between your legs that you realised with distant shame was wetness flooding you. He took a deep breath in and groaned, suddenly pulling you with him across the room. You didn’t realise he was taking you to the bed until you felt it under your back.

“I can help you,” he said again, kissing all over your flushed face as you clutched at him desperately. His hands started to slide up under your dress and pet your legs which spread wide for him instinctively, your hips shaking as more slick leaked from your opening. “Your Alpha’s here, my darling…”

Before you could even consider asking what any of this meant— you were so needy, you might just let it all happen regardless— Daemon burst in the room.

“Fuck,” he blurted out when he saw you writhing on the bed while Aemond touched you. “Is she really—? I can smell her from across the courtyard, fuck, so sweet…”

“Leave us, Uncle,” Aemond ordered instantly, “she’s mine.”

“She’s my daughter, I should be the one to help her,” Daemon sneered. He crossed the room and approached the bed as Aemond held you tighter, defensively.

“She’s not your daughter,” Aemond scoffed, “she’s your wife’s bastard— and she’ll be my omega.”

Daemon shoved his nephew off of you with a growl, making you whimper. “Please— please…” was all you could say. You weren’t even sure what that sentence would be if you had the ability to finish: please don’t fight, perhaps, or please touch me.

“I should claim her,” Daemon insisted, descending on you next with a sweet purr. “Don’t you want Papa to help you now?”

You whined in confusion, one hand shakily reaching up to hold onto your stepfather’s shoulder— but the other found Aemond’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Let her decide,” Aemond decided, knowing you were so affectionate for him— Daemon might agree to that measure, thinking you would choose your stepfather first, if he thought you understood what was being asked of you.

“She can’t decide now,” Daemon hissed, “she’s presenting, she’s delirious— and she doesn’t even know what she is!”

“She doesn’t—?!” Aemond repeated, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you two. “You never taught her? You never told her—!”

“We didn’t know!” Daemon defended. “We thought— everyone thought Rhaenyra would be an omega, as pure as she is, but she never presented… we just assumed—”

“How deprived you were, niece,” Aemond cooed at you, stroking your arm. “Your mother never taught you about us— about how special our family really is, that you might be—”

“What am I?” you whimpered, shaking, looking up at your uncle with teary eyes. He held your face and pet your cheek gently, but there was a rageful hunger in his eye like you’d never seen.

“You’re mine,” he answered.

“Ours,” Daemon corrected. “She’ll belong to both of us.”

Even though you still barely had any idea what was going on, you knew how dangerous of a proposition that was. Neither your uncle nor stepfather were ones for sharing…

Though he snarled in chagrin, Aemond was nodding as he pulled you into him again. “We’ll both help you, all right?” he prompted you quietly. “Your stepfather and I— we can both help you. You just have to do as you’re told…”

“Please,” you repeated weakly; you were carried to the bed and all but thrown onto it, a moment later feeling Daemon’s hands help undress you right away.

“I want her first,” Aemond informed Daemon firmly.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this, boy?” Daemon snapped, making his nephew laugh coldly.

“What a naughty Papa you are,” he smirked. “Will your wife approve of you fucking her daughter?”

“Wh-what?!” you choked. “What… what will you do to me?”

Daemon growled in the back of his throat as your dress was torn away, and you felt two pairs of hands run all over your bare skin as Aemond pulled you to lay on him. “As your uncle told you,” Daemon answered, “we’ll help you.”

Did they have to be so fucking cryptic all the time?!

“I’m having her first,” Aemond insisted again, “I found her first. You’ll have your turn.”

He helped you to straddle his lap, reaching down to quickly free himself from his trousers with a sigh; your legs were shaking already, and you jolted when you felt him press his cock up to your opening.

“U-Uncle,” you whimpered, “are you— will we really—?”

“Haven’t you wanted this, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered in your ear. “Don’t you want me to fill you?”

Though you whined before you let yourself admit it, you nodded. “Yes,” you choked, “yes— I wanted this.”

Aemond gave his uncle a little smirk, admiring the look on Daemon’s face— some impossible, forbidden mix of a jealous lover and a disapproving father. Apparently, he thought his stepdaughter was more loyal, and wouldn’t fall for her uncle sat so firmly on the other side of political lines. But love is funny like that— especially where Targaryens are involved.

“Call me your Alpha,” Aemond instructed in a low groan by your ear, struggling to resist his instinct to simply take you without any more delay— he’d been fighting his desire the second he first smelled you, not wanting to rush it too much, but both men were overcome with the need to be inside you as you shuddered and whimpered.

“Alpha,” you whispered back, feeling a pull to obey much more than usual when he spoke to you this way. “My Alpha…”

He pulled your hips down, sliding his cock inside you all at once. His head fell back as your hips rested on his; you cried loudly, feeling a sharp stretch— but more than pain, much more, there was pleasure, relief, and satisfaction. You went totally limp in his arms and let him guide you to grind your hips just as he liked; “Fuck,” he panted, “you’re even more perfect than I ever— ah— ever imagined, dear niece— sweet omega…”

“Uncle,” you sobbed, clinging onto him tightly. He was right— the pain had gone, for the most part, now all you had was this need for more… for everything. Even though you were so weak and helpless, you found yourself able to move on top of him, bouncing up and down in his lap to find some more of that impossibly-perfect friction; he watched you with pride and lust in his smile. “Aemond, it feels— oh…”

“It feels right,” he finished for you, “doesn’t it?”

You nodded in agreement, shivering when you realised the fingers ghosting up and down your spine were your stepfather’s. “How does she feel?” he asked in a rough voice that would’ve been terrifying if you didn’t trust him completely.

“Hot,” Aemond answered quickly. “So hot inside— she really is a dragon.”

They both laughed a little, though it wasn’t because it was funny— it was a specific emotion you’d never seen on either of them until now. Daemon leaned in and kissed the back of your neck, making you gasp and whine and lean back into his arms as you kept riding Aemond dutifully; Aemond hissed slightly, digging his fingers into your hips.

“She… she tensed up on me when you kissed her there,” Aemond said with a gasp. “Fuck— I didn’t know she could get any tighter…”

“Beautiful,” Daemon praised you in a mumble against your skin, fingers now exploring more as he lightly tickled your sides and teased your breasts. “Are you being good for him, omega? Taking care of your uncle as you should?”

You gasped and nodded, eyes heavy and wet. “Yes— yes, Papa…”

He hummed deeply, properly groping your chest now as he licked your neck, even nipping at it with his teeth to make you tighten inside again and again. “F-fuck,” Aemond choked, “I won’t— I can’t take much more of that, she’s so— she’s perfect, you can’t imagine how perfect—”

“I don’t have to,” Daemon growled, pulling you off of Aemond who whimpered and begged to have you back— but the older man was well past the limit of his patience, snarling as he positioned you onto your hands and knees. He held your shoulder to keep you steady, hard cock flexing at the way you hung your head in submission and turned just enough to look back at him innocently over your shoulder. He smiled as you as he gripped himself inside his trousers, silently praying for the patience not to tear you open as soon as he could. Yes, you were his omega, and his stepdaughter— his property in more ways than one— but he would prefer not to hurt you, and his instincts were fighting against his logical mind in that regard.

When he exposed himself, he saw you trying to look— trying to see if your Papa’s cock would break you, and he just chuckled slightly to himself.

“You’ll be able to take it,” he promised roughly, “you’re made to take it.”

He lined himself up, knocking your knees further apart with his own before plunging inside with a long sigh. You cried again but pushed back against him, too; your hands still clung weakly onto your uncle, who soothed you and kissed your tears away encouragingly.

“You were right,” Daemon sighed, electing to just hold you still and stay buried as deep as he could go for a moment. “She’s— fuck.”

Aemond took one of your hands from his shoulder and guided it down to his cock, still soaked from your slick; he guided you to stroke it with your shaking fingers, whispering filthy praises in your ear while Daemon fucked you slowly (at first). “You have to take care of both of us,” your uncle reminded you. “Gods, you smell so sweet… I could smell you from across the hall, that’s how I found you— I knew you needed me, needed an Alpha to breed you.”

“I… I don’t understand…” you mumbled, gasping as your stepfather picked up his pace and fucked you more roughly.

“We should tell her now,” Daemon decided. “Well, you should— I’m quite busy already— fuck, so tight…”

“Would you like me to tell you everything, sweet girl?” Aemond asked you, tightening your grip on his cock when you nodded. “Just keep— keep stroking me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “anything…”

“Our family is very special,” Aemond explained to you— which you already knew, but clearly there was more to it than you were taught. “There’s a reason we keep to our own, protect our bloodline: some of us are… gifted. Like your stepfather and I.”

“Like you,” Daemon added, though he was struggling to focus on any conversation as he used you.

“I always knew you were meant for more, my lovely niece,” Aemond cooed, though his nostrils flared for a moment as he moved your hand to wank him faster. “And you are— meant to give us a new branch of the family, purer than any that came before…”

Even with your mind still clouded with desperation, you knew how you were expected to do that. “You’ll— you’ll get me pregnant?” you realised with a shaky gasp.

Aemond nodded, smiling as he kissed your face. “Don’t worry— it won’t be as difficult for you as it was for your mother. She’s not like us, she’s… weaker.”

“They all are,” Daemon added, in defence of his wife. “It’s been generations since an omega was born to us.. even in as pure a family as ours, it’s rare— only your uncle and I are Alphas.”

“It makes you much more fertile,” Aemond continued, “it makes us need to care for you— with our bloodline, there’s a small chance any of us could be like this… but our children, with both their parents being this way, they’ll all be gifted in the same way. Think of the generations we’ll sire, and it all starts tonight…”

Clearly, he was excited by the prospect of keeping you bred for years to come, creating a new line of Targaryens guaranteed with these ‘gifts’ of fertility and instinct… well, you weren’t quite as keen. Even as your body longed for the promise of being impregnated, your mind filled with fear. “I— what if I can’t—?” you started to wonder.

“You will,” Aemond promised, without even knowing what concerned you— because he didn’t have to. “You can do anything, omega, you’ll do anything for your Alphas. It’s your nature; you obey.”

Just as he said it, Daemon thrust especially roughly into you and made you quiver. A pleasure began to build in your gut, heavy and hot, while your stepfather let go of all pretence and fucked you with all the passion and possessiveness he’d been holding back for years. He bent down over you and gave open-mouthed kisses to your back, making you feel small in his grasp and feeling the heat of every moan and sigh spread over your skin. “So perfect,” he said again, “it’s better than anything— you really were made for pleasure, weren’t you, omega?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Aemond sneered at his uncle. “I think it’s time for my turn again.”

“You can have your turn after I’ve knotted her,” Daemon decided.

Aemond grabbed you angrily, pulling you forward and slipping Daemon’s cock out of you— both of you reacting in disappointment.

“Your knot? Please,” Aemond scoffed, “that could take hours— I need her now.”

“So do I,” Daemon insisted, but Aemond was determined to get inside you again. Breathing through his teeth, he pushed his cock back into you roughly, guiding your hips to make sure he filled you to the very brim. Shivering, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him fuck into you, accepting that it was better to let them do whatever they liked with you and just hope you didn’t get ripped to shreds in their fight over you.

“So beautiful,” Aemond sighed just before he kissed you on the lips— you let your mouth go slack right away, offering it for him to claim as well; his kiss was filthy and hungry and desperate, making you moan and whimper his name helplessly as he fucked you harder and harder.

“Don’t make me watch this,” Daemon pleaded with a whine, easily the most pathetic you’d ever heard him sound. “I need— fuck, she smells so good…”

“You can fuck her again,” Aemond promised, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to speak, “when I’m done.”

“When you’re done?” Daemon realised. “You’re going to knot her, aren’t you? Fucking bastard.”

Of course, the only thing that could make Aemond stop kissing you was a chance to argue with your stepfather. “I wouldn’t speak of bastards if I were you, Uncle,” Aemond taunted. “Let her use her hand on you while you wait.”

“Hand? I have much greater ideas than that,” Daemon informed you both proudly. He moved around from his place behind you, kneeling beside where Aemond laid so he could pull you away from the kiss and push his cock up to your face. “Use your mouth, omega— stick your tongue out for me.”

Doing as you were told, you whimpered slightly as he slid the fat head of his cock over your waiting tongue.

“Good,” he praised, staring down at you and petting your hair soothingly. “You do so well for us both, darling— now close your lips on it. Suckle on it, not too hard— fuck, fuck, how perfect you are…”

“I don’t especially care for your bollocks in my face, Uncle,” Aemond frowned.

“Lean away,” Daemon offered, not exactly sympathetic to the issue when he was so focused on the warmth of your mouth on his cock.

“I can’t! Your knee is on my hair!” Aemond snapped, and Daemon finally moved enough for Aemond to yank his head away with a grimace.

“You see why I keep mine shorter now,” Daemon chuckled.

“I doubt that’s exactly why,” Aemond rolled his eyes, but knowing how perverse his uncle could be, he almost worried that he actually had found himself on the other end of the same issue before.

“My apologies,” Daemon offered in a mumble, but Aemond clearly wasn’t going to hold a grudge— he was moaning again already, holding your hips so he could buck up into you, kissing all along your opposite shoulder while your stepfather pushed his cock deeper into your mouth.

In fact, he kept sliding his thick shaft between your swollen lips until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat, making you gag. You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t for two reasons: one, your mouth was full; two, Daemon only moaned louder, praising you again. In fact, he kept making you gag over and over until a tear ran down your cheek. “Let her breathe,” Aemond ordered, sounding almost hurt with how worried he was for you.

Daemon pulled out of your mouth to let you gasp and sputter, Aemond holding your face and kissing it repeatedly to try to soothe you. “I-I’m alright,” you promised, “let me try again, please, Papa—”

Daemon grinned darkly as he pushed his cock back up to your lips.

“You’re too sweet, omega— you want so much to please your Alphas, I know.”

“Don’t go so hard on her,” Aemond warned, “you know if you hurt her at all, it will be hard not to kill you.”

Daemon was more amused than concerned by the threat, but he knew his nephew was right— not just about the way Alphas would defend their mates instinctively (Daemon understood that instinct firsthand, it was how poor Vaemond met his end), but about the fact that he should be gentler with you. You weren’t one of his whores, you were his sweet daughter and a new omega— you needed to be treated with care. But it was almost impossible to keep calm in a time like this. “You should know how difficult it is to hold myself back,” Daemon sighed, “having to smell her and see her and listen to her— her mouth isn’t enough, I need her cunt.”

"Well, so do I," Aemond countered.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Daemon was stronger— and terribly impatient. He growled and yanked you off of Aemond, throwing you onto your back and roughly filling you again. You gasped, overwhelmed by being thrown back and forth between them, with never enough time for your body to get properly used to one or the other. It certainly felt different looking up at your stepfather as he fucked you, seeing him groan and bare his neck as he moved his hips quickly. "Papa," you gasped, properly accepting for the first time that it was your stepfather— your mother's husband, your great uncle— fucking you now. He smiled down at you, holding himself up by one hand as he touched your face with the other.

"Darling," he whispered, "you knew, didn't you? That I wanted you in this way?"

Honestly, you weren't sure— it all felt like a lifetime ago now; presenting as an omega was disrupting enough to your worldview, being claimed by your uncle and stepfather made it even more sure that this felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

"Daemon, everyone knew," Aemond assured. "You were never subtle."

You wanted to ask if your mother knew— but the pleasure kept you from speaking anything coherent, and the instincts controlling your body kept you from feeling any guilt. Like Aemond said, it just felt so right, so natural that you knew nothing about this could be wrong.

Aemond pulled you into another kiss, laying beside you and touching you anywhere he could reach— starting first with your breasts, which he broke away from your lips to latch onto next. You moaned loudly, feeling terrible sensitive with Aemond's tongue and lips teasing your hardened nipples. "How full these will be…" Aemond whispered reverently against your skin. "All your milk for our babies… you're incredible— our little omega, you'll carry so many beautiful Targaryens in you…"

You whimpered, reaching down to find Aemond's throbbing cock— he hissed as you gripped it, trying to stroke him the same way he'd guided you before. "I— I want to please you, Alpha…"

He groaned and smiled, coming back up to your lips again but holding your face so he could look at you closely. "I know, sweet girl— it's in your nature. You live to serve, don't you, omega?"

Whining slightly, you nodded, and he captured your mouth in another kiss.

The thrusts into you grew faster and more erratic, rocking your body as you gasped. Aemond's hand slipped down over your mound, finding your swollen bud and rubbing it as Daemon fucked you with ruthless intensity. It was too much: it made your back arch and your throat catch.

"Come, omega," Daemon ordered; helpless to his commands, you sucked in a gasp against Aemond's lips and felt another wave of hot slick leak from between your quivering legs. Both men groaned, and you swore you saw Aemond's eye go black as he took a deep inhale of your heady scent in the air.

"So obedient," Aemond observed, "I hadn't even known that omegas could come on command… what a talent."

There was this embarrassing squelching noise coming from where your stepfather drove his cock into you, your arousal coating his and your thighs as he held the back of your knees.

“Fuck!” Daemon grunted suddenly, and you struggled and whimpered as you felt his cock seem to swell— more and more, well past what you thought was possible, until you cried out from the fullness.

“Alpha!” you sobbed, hearing him snarl as he held your hips to keep you from trying to get away.

“Are you—?” Aemond realised, growling with jealousy. “Fuck, you’re breeding your own stepdaughter, you’re unforgivable…”

“It’s— fuck, just wait, nephew,” Daemon promised, still panting as more of his sticky come flooded inside you.

“I can’t wait,” Aemond whimpered, “I need to breed her, you know I need to—”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Daemon assured, “it’s unlike anything— gods, she’s—”

He never finished any of those sentences, just moaning and continuing to pump his seed into you as he breathed heavily. “What’s happening?” you asked Aemond with a shaky whimper.

“Your Papa is filling you, omega,” he answered, petting your side as you shivered. “One of the ways we’re different— Alphas, we… we have something called a knot. It keeps us inside so you’ll never waste a drop of seed— but only omegas can fit something so large, we have to… make concessions, with other lovers.”

“We can never be… fully inside, when we finish,” Daemon panted, “or we’ll hurt them— could kill them, really. But you, you… you take it so well, omega, you take it perfectly… fuck!”

“I-it hurts, a little,” you admitted, trying not to move so you wouldn’t disturb the soreness inside you. “It’s— how is it so big?”

Daemon smirked proudly, holding onto you just as tightly though he’d finished spilling his seed already. He tilted his head back slightly first as he took deep and fast breaths, only to drop it forward limply as silver strands hung limply around his face.

"Fuck," Daemon sighed again, "I never could've imagined how it would feel… being so deep within you, that sweet cunt keeping my knot warm inside— darling, it's incredible."

He stroked your face approvingly as you sighed.

"You expect me to wait until it's gone down for my turn to feel that?" Aemond sneered.

"You don't have a choice," Daemon laughed, "you'll hurt her if you try to get her off now. You'll just have to find some patience."

The only instinct stronger than the need to breed was to protect you, and so Aemond snarled as he guided your hand to his aching cock once more as he waited his turn. You felt complete relief, for the first time since the headache began, as you felt Daemon's knot inside you. You didn't feel the same as you had before, though: you felt… better? In a sense. You felt complete. You felt accomplished, useful… needed.

Aemond groaned against your skin as he fucked your fist, kissing along your shoulder and collarbone. "Such a good omega— you'll take me next, won't you? You can satisfy us both, yes?"

"Yes, Alpha— anything, I'll do whatever I can," you promised, addicted already to how rewarding it felt to be good for them. They both smiled proudly.

"You used to be so stubborn," Daemon remembered. "So much changes when you present, doesn't it? Believe it or not, I was rather level-headed before I presented as an Alpha."

"I'll go with 'not'," Aemond decided.

Daemon didn’t notice or mind much what Aemond had said, too focused on looking down at where your leaking cunt managed to fit his knot— he was still amazed by it. He’d spent his whole life pulling out enough to keep the knot outside when he came (that is, when he could manage to finish at all), even though at times it took all his willpower to fight that instinct. It felt perfect to be inside you now— perfect in a way he’d never allowed himself to imagine before.

Aemond’s patience was well past worn; he forced your hand to wrap tightly around his aching cock, fucking your hand as he kissed you hard and whined against your lips. “Omega,” he panted, “even your hand is so divine— but I need to be inside you, I need to breed and fill you, please—”

“Not much longer,” Daemon promised, though he was clearly irritated. “It takes time, nephew.”

You could tell Aemond wanted to say something particularly catty in that moment— probably something about how it was impressive that Daemon could keep his knot at all at his age— but only a groan fell from his mouth as you squeezed his cock a little tighter. He guided your hand lower to rub gently over his balls, and you realised how desperate he really was when you felt how swollen they’d become, how tender they were as you barely touched them and he hissed in a breath. “Fuck,” he panted, “all that come will be inside you soon— I know how badly you need it, omega, to be bred by your uncle.”

You whimpered but nodded in agreement, letting him move your hand just how he liked so you could keep his hunger at bay.

As for you, the knot inside you brought you mostly back to reality— but a needy, desperate Alpha beside you kept your omega instincts in control even as some logical thought returned to your mind. That logic made you want to ask them a thousand questions, about what you were and what this all meant and what this would mean for your family… but you couldn’t, because Aemond never stopped kissing you long enough to let you speak. Not that you were exactly fighting to get a word in: you loved the way he kissed you, so you just melted into it and let him go on tasting your mouth while he stroked himself with your hand.

You couldn’t say how long it was before Daemon broke his silence, but however long it was, it went by quickly— for you. For Aemond, it was like a lifetime. “It’s small enough now,” Daemon decided. “You can finally have your turn, nephew— but I know you’ll miss me, little omega, when this pathetic boy is on top of you.”

“Gods, just hurry up,” Aemond choked, and Daemon sighed as he held your hips and unsheathed himself from you. The knot wasn't completely subsided, but it had shrunk significantly— enough for him to hiss as he carefully slid it out. You whimpered as the bulge of it tugged on your sore walls, and made a stinging pain hit your opening as it passed through. But, finally, you were empty… for a split second. Aemond wasted no time getting on top of you and guiding his leaking cock to your hole; he plunged in all at once, making you wince and yelp as you held onto his shoulders, but he ignored the pain he was inflicting and started to move already— he just couldn’t stop himself.

The sting was worth it, though, to hear his loud, satisfied moans; his voice was rougher and deeper than you’d ever heard it, filled with awe as he watched your body take him fully with every thrust. He wasn’t moving very quickly yet— faster than you were ready for, yes, but still savouring the feeling of you for himself.

“I hope she’s not too stretched out from my knot,” Daemon chuckled, obviously not genuine— he hoped his nephew could feel the difference, so he was silently disappointed when Aemond shook his head.

“She feels just as before,” Aemond breathed, “just as tight and warm— just as perfect, fuck, she really was made for this. I would never have taken another woman if I knew this was waiting for me— if I knew I could have an omega to breed someday.”

“I was under the impression you hadn’t taken other women,” Daemon laughed, “you certainly fuck like a virgin.”

“You ramble like a drunk,” Aemond sneered in reply, losing any interest in verbally sparring with his uncle as he started to move just a bit faster inside you. "Beautiful," he sighed as he leaned down, holding you close, kissing your tears away as he fucked your sore cunt as gently as he could manage. "So beautiful, my omega— you take me so well, even when it hurts you… you take your Alpha so well."

His praise made it all worth it, and soon enough the soreness was forgotten— as was his attempting to be careful with you; within a few minutes he was holding you tight and fucking into you ruthlessly, panting beside your face while he slammed his cock into the very end of your insides. Even still, even after hours of your Alphas taking turns with you, your body never stopped leaking slick for them, until Aemond was soaked in your heat— his cock, balls, thighs, even dripping down to the bed beneath you…

“It won’t be much longer now,” he warned. “You’ll be bred— my child in you, sweet girl, is that what you want? All that ache’s going to go away, once you’re good and pregnant, like you were meant to be.”

It sounded like everything you’d ever wanted; it called to your most primal desires and made pleasure course through your veins until your skin was alight with ecstasy. "Please, Alpha!" you sobbed, holding onto him tightly. "I want your knot! I want your baby…"

"Fuck," Aemond gasped, baring his neck to you as he thrusted faster, faster, faster— you were afraid you would go numb inside from the friction, heat building until it all collapsed; you twitched and jolted from the orgasm overtaking you, just as Aemond’s knot began to swell. You felt it, like you had with Daemon: the warm come flooding inside your spent cunt, and your eyes rolled back as you went limp. It hurt to take another knot, yes, but you were too exhausted to even react. You were too exhausted to even think, even though you had much to think about: like the fact that your uncle and stepfather had just claimed and taken you, bred you, both of them fully intending to have you with child soon. They’d have no way to tell whose child it was, would that even matter? Would your mother stay married to Daemon— would either of them, or both, take you as their wife? What would you say when, inevitably, questions arose?

None of those questions seemed to matter now… all you could think of was the man above you and inside you, the perfect expression of relief on his face as his knot kept growing inside you.

"O-oh," he choked, tightening his fist beside your head, "it feels so…"

"I know," Daemon smirked proudly. "It's unlike anything else, isn't it?"

Aemond nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath. "Omega… our perfect omega…"

Daemon leaned down to join in on the praise, petting your head as you let your heavy eyes fall shut. "You did so well for us both," he whispered to you. "You may rest now— you did beautifully, now rest…"

You weren’t able to drift to sleep until they were both holding you; Aemond still inside and surrounding you while Daemon gently lifted you to cradle you from behind, with his chest to your back. You should’ve felt confused, maybe guilty, maybe even disgusted as you reckoned with what you had done— what had been done to you. Instead, you only felt at peace, safe and satisfied. You were blessed with a gentle and dreamless sleep as your Alphas held you, still whispering to you sometimes— still discussing softly with each other what they would do next. From now on, you could leave the thinking and worrying to them, and just fulfil your natural purpose. It sounded nice, actually: lots of pure Targaryen babies, yours and Aemond’s and Daemon’s children, a strange but beautiful family.

For something you couldn’t have even imagined this morning, it seemed so obvious to you now… obvious, and sort of inevitable. Not that you minded; you were happy to be theirs.

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd fic

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targaryen-dynasty · 9 months

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COMFORT.

Daemon Targaryen x valyrian!Reader

You understand the Rogue Prince like no other, and so it's your task to put his mind at ease again when he stumbles into the brothel.

WORDS: 1.5 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; DUB-CON, ass eating, handjob, balls worship, size kink, squint and you'll miss the breeding kink, valyrian!Reader (has pale skin, silver hair), bastard Valyrian/High Valyrian

NOTES: I KNOW I said I’d leave for some while, and I’m not really active on here besides setting up a queue but I just couldn‘t let go of the thoughts of some good ol‘ ass eating with our uncle-daddy. This work is not meant for educational purposes, but please wash yourself before doing sth like this.

It was a lacklustre affair.

Daemon had been thrusting and thrusting for quite some time with little effort or enthusiasm, arousing nothing but awkwardness and deep desire for it to be over.

Perhaps it was your faked moans of pleasure or perhaps the disheveled state he was in when he stormed into Chataya’s, nevertheless, he was disgruntled as he pulled out of you, clearly frustrated by his poor performance.

As he sat down on the sill, quilt wrapped around his hanging shoulders, you were quickly reminded that the usually confident, self-assured and strong Rogue Prince that didn’t much care what anybody thought of him actually very much cared, and was nothing more than a tender man who was wracked with doubt.

Getting on your feet, you prowled toward him, standing between his parted legs. You cupped his face with one hand, forcing him to look up at you.

“It is possible the Queen will give birth to yet another girl,” you tried to cheer him up, grabbing both his large hands and caressing them with your thumbs. Alas, the attempt did not bear fruit, the dragon in front of you merely scoffing. It seemed there were a few more layers you had to peel off tonight to figure out what truly plagued him, though you suspected something–or someone–particularly to bother his mind.

You squeezed his hands before pulling him onto his feet, despite him seeming rather reluctant. “Allow me to put your mind at ease, my Prince,” you hummed, and guided him back toward the bed.

When he lay down on his back, you tsked, “va ao iemny.” On your stomach. It was your Lysene origin that granted you the ability to speak a version of bastard Valyrian, and was one of the main reasons the Prince had chosen you a few moons ago. That, and your pale skin and silver hair.

His lilac eyes widened ever so slightly at your bold command, but he complied. The bed barely dipped beneath your knees as crawled between his parted legs. You sat back on your haunches and trailed your ring clad fingers over his sides, starting at the top. A few of the scars were traced by your fingertips, and you relished in the way he shivered under the gentle and teasing touch.

Keeping a close eye on him allowed you to spot the way his upper body moved in sync with his heavy breathing. What surprised you the most was that he held his eyes closed, visibly enjoying your ministrations despite them being barely there.

“Bisa iksis daor mirre,” you said, the smirk on your lips reflecting in your tone, “iksan daor gaomagon.” This isn’t all. I am not done.

Reaching for one of the more firmer pillows, you grabbed his hip to raise it a bit before shoving it underneath his lower stomach, angling his hips and giving you the best possible access to his rear and cock. Daemon was open-minded and had ample experience up his sleeve, and it wasn't the first time you paid attention to anything other than his cock.

You bowed forward, your lips finding the sensitive spot in the nape of his neck that always had him purring like a cat and bending to your every wish. Lingering there for a few moments with your teeth nibbling on his skin, you eventually licked over the faint mark that followed in your teeth’s wake, before departing down.

While open-mouthed kisses were pressed to his spine, both of your hands began to tease his buttocks. At first, it was only gentle caressing, but as your mouth traveled lower, the bolder your hands got. You squeezed his flesh, and gently parted his buttocks to expose his arsehole to the warm breath you exhaled.

Your eyes flickered up to gauge Daemon’s reaction for a split second before you gathered some saliva and spat it onto his unprepared hole. His muscles tensed slightly with the sudden wetness, but when your index finger circled around the rim, he relaxed just as quick.

A faint hum was audible, coming from the Prince in front of you, and when you pushed the first digit in, it was replaced by a groan.

“Fuck–”

“How does that feel, my Prince?” you purred.

“Good,” he rasped.

That was encouragement enough for you to spit into your other hand, coating his cock in it and using the slickness to tug on it with ease. Being penetrated on both ends had him releasing wanton moans in no time, only increasing in volume as you bowed forward and replaced your finger at his arsehole by your lips and tongue.

If it wasn’t for your mouth and tongue being occupied by sucking and lapping at his hole, you would’ve chuckled as he desperately pushed his hips back against your face. You dragged your tongue over the rim, and kept your blue-lilacish eyes on the Prince beneath, watching carefully what worked best and what not.

One of your hands spread his buttocks, allowing you to keep your lips against his ass as your tongue pushed in. You stilled briefly, but were spurred on when you heared the strained groan he released.

“Sīr sȳz, gaomagon jāre,” he panted, “... kostilus.” Hearing him beg was new, but you couldn’t deny that you found a certain liking in it. So good, keep going. Please.

As you felt his cock twitch in your hand, indicating that he was on the verge of peaking, you released it and instead processed to fondle the sac of his stones, squeezing it.

The whine that escaped his throat as you pulled back to spit into your hand was the epitome of pathetic, and he obviously had your teasing coming. “Skoros massitas naejot se nēdenka dārilaros, mh?” What happened to the fierce Prince, mh?

“Jorrāelagon nyke naejot–” The threat died on his tongue as yours dove back into his arsehole, returning to its task with vigor. Need me to–

Just like his cock, his stones were coated in your saliva, making it easier to fondle and squeeze them. Daemon started to rut his hips, and it was clear what he was doing or rather chasing. With his hard cock rutting against the pillow, your hand fondling his stones and your tongue fucking in and out of his hole, he felt his peak slowly building at the base of his shaft.

If it would’ve been any other patron, you would’ve stopped your ministrations and thought about a punishment to put him back in his place, but it was no normal patron lying in front of you. It was a Prince, and a dragon in flesh at that.

Your tongue and hand were tireless in their motions, determined to push the rogue over the edge, and judging by the way he was writhing and rutting as if his life depended on it, he was close to toppling over.

The strained groan he wanted to release, the one that always came whenever he spent himself, was replaced by a gasp, caught off guard by the way your tongue curled up on its way out, tugging at the rim in a way that drove him insane.

“Seven hells,” he grunted, and was quick to wrap one hand around his twitching member, tugging on it to embrace the approaching release that threatened to undo him.

“I–I’m–” the words cut off as his peak crashed over him. His other hand fisted the covers tight enough for his knuckles to blanch, while his hips and hand worked in tandem with your own and your tongue to coax him through the pleasure.

His orgasm tingled at the spot where his sac met his cock, and it was almost ridiculous how much of his spent squirted out and coated the sheets and the pillow below. It was such a shame it went to waste, because you knew at least one spot of your body where you would’ve preferred it.

You had withdrawn your mouth from his hole not long after the peak subsided, and crawled up and hovered over his tall frame. Collapsing on top of him, he merely scoffed at the added weight, but was quick to hum as your lips pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. A tired smile was adorning his features, and his lilac eyes were closed again, relishing in the bliss he felt.

“How do you feel?” you asked, and though your blueish eyes twinkled with mischief, the genuine concern seeped through your words regardless. Daemon kept on smiling, reaching up to gently cradle your face before he grabbed your body, keeping you steady on top as he turned to lie on his back. His head was propped up on a pillow and yours was resting on his chest, his heartbeat lulling you into calmness.

“Iksi henujagon syt Zaldrīzesdōron isse se ñāqatubis,” he mused. We are leaving for Dragonstone in the morning.

And when you looked at him with utter confusion written all over your face, he elaborated further. “You are foolish if you think I would go into exile without you.”

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

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You Bled For Them, You Decide Pt.1 (Daemon x Reader)

Once again this was challenging but so fun to write, I hope you guys like as well. Enjoy!

Daemon Targaryen or else known as “the rogue prince” had inherited the free spirit of his mother, for years he traveled as he lusted over two things, war and women. He loved his life and new found freedom after the… sudden death of his lady wife Rhea. The night after Rhaenyras wedding he fled and in a spur of the moment finding refugee in Pentos, the prince of pentos welcomed him with open arms as soon as Daemon landed with Caraxes and even threw a celebration in his honour.

That’s where he met her, (y/n). She was the daughter of a gemstone and dragonbone merchant, she stood next to her father when Daemon first laid eyes on her, her hair dark and long, her (y/e/c) eyes pierced with through his heart and made him feel like he was thrown to the flames, she held the moon and stars in those hues of hers, her lips tempting him as she bit them, her body was barely covered by a dress, it was normal for the women to dress with light materials due to the heat of the city, it did wonders for Daemons imagination. As the breeze went through her the herbal scent hit him like a brick. She was sent by the Gods for him

“It was like fate had struck me”

He would often say. It wasn’t long until he married her, her father was delighted when he saw Daemon Targaryen asking for his daughters hand. (Y/n) had prayed for their union right after that night, she could sense that this was the man for her, the man that would stand by her side until the end of their days.

Daemon spend his days and nights in her arms, the only thing that dragged him out of the bed was his dragon, other than that he spend it pleasuring his wife. Oh what a sight she was when she trembled under his touch, he held her tightly as he took her through the roads of pleasure, the servants would blush and ran away as they would couple wherever and whenever, the study room, the gardens, the bath, even up in the air while Daemon road his dragon, (y/n) rode Daemon.

It wasn’t long until (y/n) was with child, Princess Alyssa was first, (y/n) gave birth by herself in the garden with the help of her husband under a full moon, she did not trust the maesters. Not long after that came the triplets, prince Aevor, princess Eraessa and princess Aerella that were born by the help of their father in their bath on a cold rainy day, (y/n) always felt at home when surrounded by water. On the triplets first nameday (y/n) gave birth to prince Victor, unfortunately (y/n) laid ill with fever for two morrows after that birth, Daemon never left her side since he feared that he would suffer the fate of his father and brother, of course a little while after (y/n) was surrounded by her children and husband as she pushed out a daughter Johanna.

“We have been summoned”

“For what my love?”

“Laenas funeral, she died during childbirth, she commanded her dragon to set her on fire”

(Y/n) rubbed on her growing belly at the news, she had never met Daemons family yet her heart ached for the woman, every woman had feared of childbirth, all of them were willing to take the risk for their kins still their hearts skipped a beat when the labour pains began.

Daemon saw the pain in his lady wives eyes, he took her hands to place kisses on her knuckles as a way to comfort her, they didn’t have to speak about it, the eyes said everything that needed to be spoken.

“Do you want to go?”

“My brother pleaded, he wishes to be introduced to our children”

“I did not ask about your brother, I asked what do you want”

Daemon was thankful for his wife for countless reasons, one of them was her patience with him and the way she made him feel important, all his life he spend yelling to be heard and now he had someone that he could whisper to. Daemon kissed his wife on the lips softly as a way to say thank you to her, he was never good with words so physical touch was his way of showing gratitude.

“We shall leave on the morrow”

(Y/n) rode on her husbands dragon as she held on to him tightly, she could see why Daemon and her children loved riding so much, the peaceful feeling mixed with the power it brings, it was addicting to say the least.

After the family landed the first one to touch ground was Daemon who was careful enough to assist (y/n) by holding her waist until her feet are steady, (y/n) rushed to the eldest daughter Alyssa whom was holding little Johanna, her hatchling was way too small and she was far too young to ride, Alyssa had volunteered as to being the one to hold her sister for the ride.

(y/n) took the babe in her arms and she quite envied how it was the only one that was dressed in white clothing, (y/n) had to prepare an all black dress in just a few hours which had been a struggle given the fact that her babe was due any minute now.

“How was she?”

“I believe she slept the entire way, she seemed to stir awake as we were landing”

Alyssa always felt the responsibility for her siblings, her parents had embedded in her brain “family sticks together” that they would repeat almost every day. (Y/n) turned back to her husband with their daughter on her hip, Daemon was already greeted by his brother, king Viserys.

(Y/n)s courage seemed to waver for a moment as she did not make a step to approach the two brothers, they had never been introduced since the couple had eloped in pentos and resided there for their entirety of their wedding.

“(Y/n)”

Daemon spoke softly, his hand reaching out for her. (Y/n) pushed every bad thought aside and made her way to her husbands side with their daughter, as she stopped king Viserys smiled brightly, his eyes immediately focusing on the little girl.

“Gods be good, how old?”

“She is almost two, her name is johanna after my mother”

“Beautiful, congratulations brother you have been blessed with a wonderful family. May I hold her?”

“Of course… your grace”

(Y/n) did not quite know how to address him, alas she passed Johanna to king Viserys who beamed with joy as he held her. Johanna was not a difficult child nor did she cry a lot, she seemed quite comfortable in her uncles arms.

“My apologies I completely ignored your lady wife and we have never been introduced. What is your name?”

“I am (y/n)… your grace”

She introduced herself as she took a small curtsy, well as low as her condition allowed to do so without falling down. technically pentos was a free country yet the soul of the ground she was now stepping on was under the Targaryen legacy so it was almost obligating. King Viserys laughed lightly at (y/n)s uneasiness, at first he was furious at his brother running off to marry a nobody, as the years passed and caught wind of how Daemon was content with his family and had brought so many children with the woman, his heart soften.

“You needn’t bow dear, we are family. I have heard tales about your choice in the matter of giving birth”

“My mother gave birth to twelve children, she always said how nobody knows better than the woman”

“Your mother was fearless but some assistance would never hurt”

“If my time comes while I give birth to my children then there is nothing a… man can do, it is something above our powers and so far I have been victorious”

“I assume there is no greater force than the force of a mother. Let us join the others, it is almost time for the ceremony”

In pentos they spoke bastard Valyrian so (y/n) could somewhat understand what the man was saying as he send his niece away to the afterlife. (Y/n) clung on to her husband for comfort as the ceremony brought her worry and sadness, being surrounded by unfamiliar faces that grieved in a ceremony of a woman she never met brought a certain discomfort to (y/n).

Daemon gave his wife’s hand a squeeze as he leaned down to place a kiss on the top of her head, Daemon feared for her life every time she was to give birth, he was never a religious man yet internally he would pray to the old and new gods for a safe delivery.

“Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the shore. Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will all remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin.”

Before (y/n) could comprehend what was said and the reason behind those sly remarks when the man gazed at a woman who had her arms wrapped around two boys the ceremony was interrupted by a baby crying in the near distance, her ears perked up at the sound of her youngest daughter wails. Alyssa tried to shush the babe to no avail, the child was begging for it’s mother, (y/n) fleeted her husbands side to soothe her baby and to also make it stop crying while the ceremony is taking place.

“I’m sorry mother”

“It’s alright Alyssa, Johanna is probably hungry, aren’t you my little sunshine?”

The babe settled as (y/n) rocked Johanna in her arms, she did not try to go back in her place, they had already brought enough attention to them for now, she remained close to her children who all surrounded her, it was quite the scene as 5 children build a wall around a woman that looked nothing like them.

Alyssa had her grandmothers eyes, one was violet and the other green, the triplets had silver white hair but all had different colour eyes, prince Aevor was a spitting image of his father, princess Eraessa had green eyes and Aerellahad violet, Victor had inherited his grandfathers black colour and Johanna seemed to match her sister with violet eyes and a few strands of black hair intertwined with her silver hair.

All of them looked like Targaryens which had caused a stir in everyone’s hearts along with judgement, there she was a woman that had no correlation to the Targaryen bloodline or any type of royal bloodline yet her children looked like what true born heirs should be.

“How is moon and my stars?”

Daemon would call his family that at the explanation of the moon and the stars were the only way you could find home while sailing or riding dragons. Daemon cradled his youngest daughter in his arms to ease the weight his wife was carrying, she was already burdened with a child in her guts she mustn’t hold another.

“Father can we go explore please?”

“Of course, Alyssa please escort your siblings, make sure they are safe”

“Of course father”

As the kids scurried away little Johanna was the only one that remained, she was too young to go with the others. (Y/n) turned to her husband with a disapproving look

“Alyssa is a child my love we mustn’t put such responsibility on her”

“She is our first born and she is perfectly capable of protecting her siblings, you coddle her”

“Would that be so bad? To keep my child safe and allow her to enjoy her adolescence?”

“Alyssa looks like our mother, she always spoke of how we could never get rid of her and it is only natural that she chose you to make her way back to us”

Daemons brother interrupted the quarrel as he approached them, a blonde haired woman who (y/n) assumed was close or maybe a year younger next to him, she was the one that the man was staring at when he spoke. What made (y/n) question the woman’s approach was how she took in her husband, it reminded (y/n) of a hawk inspecting its prey.

Daemon was amazed when he first took in Alyssa’s appearance, it was only fair that the babe got his mothers name, under the light of the full moon he swore to sacrifice everyone to keep his family safe.

“Mothers spirit could not be stopped by death, sometimes when she gets frustrated I swear it is our mother hiding behind my daughters eyes”

“Alyssa might have your mothers name but she is her own person and she will write her own story. Such expectations are a heavy burden for a young girl”

(Y/n) interrupted, she understood her husbands love and devotion to their family still she was also a mother and she wanted her child to have a quiet and happy life, to live without a target on her back, Daemon was driven by ambition, (y/n) was driven by compassion.

Viserys smiled fondly at the young woman, he detected the powerful urge of the mother spreading her wings to protect her young ones. The woman on his side kept looking at Daemon, (y/n) doubted that she even heard any part of the conversation, she also could feel that the woman was waiting to be greeted or for her presence to be acknowledged.

Daemon brought his wife closer to him by a gentle grip on her waist, sometimes he would forget that his wife had a backbone of her own and was not easily persuaded when it came to such delicate matters, he had fought wars and seen the worst in people, still he took a step back when it came to his wife. Their dynamic worked only if both of them made the effort, Daemon was the protector when it came to the outside but indoors (y/n) had the final decision.

“You bled for them, you decide”

Daemon had once muttered to her, it was a sign of respect from him, he was forever in her debt for the continuation of her sacrifices to expand their family.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say your wife has dragons blood in her dear uncle”

“Pentos is a free country my lady, we have fought for our freedom, allow me to say we have our own fire that burns bright”

“(Y/n) this is my daughter Rhaenyra, my heir”

“Pleasure to meet you princess”

“Likewise, is this your child?”

“One of them yes, her name is Johanna, I believe the entire trip and ceremony tired her out”

(Y/n) cooed at her baby girl as she petted the girls silver hair, Johanna had leaned into her fathers shoulder with her eyes half closed, poor thing was fighting against slumber.

Rhaenyra felt a pain in her heart as she looked at the couple, Daemon had never been so gentle with Rhaenyra or anyone for that matter, now he didn’t even spare a glimpse in her direction as he was occupied with gazing lovingly at his wife, she felt jealousy boil in her heart thinking she was supposed to be the one in (y/n)s place.

“One of them?”

“Yes, the gods have been quite generous, we have 6 children now”

“Such… great news”

She mumbled. Rhaenyra was stunned, 6 children. Daemon had never discussed the matter of children in the past, now he fathered 6 kids and another one was on the way. Rhaenyra felt the ground disappear beneath her feet as her heart beat so fast she could swear that it was going to come out from her throat.

“Excuse me”

Rhaenyra managed to grumbled as she stumbled away from the couple, she could not believe what she had witness. Rhaenyra did her best to keep her composure until she was out of sight, not only has her first love moved on and has a happy family -something that she was robbed from- he had now unintentionally blown her cover and paraded his Targaryen featured children for everyone.

Part two

Requests are open!

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saltywritings · 2 years

Text

(in the still of the night | aemond targaryen x strong! reader)

summary: the reader and aemond reconnect at the red keep after years of being apart. it is here the both of you reconnect with the reemerging memories of when the both of you were young. memories in italics.

warnings: mentions of death and murder, betrothal, sexual tension but no smut, yet. cursing?

word count: 3,835 words.

authors note: i do hope you enjoy reading this as much as i have had writing it. please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you do enjoy. if this does well i will make a second part that will be absolutely filthy.

it was odd to you. the memories that flooded to you so clearly as you walked down the halls of the castle. eyes catching the stained glass windows of dragons, carefully moving up the stone steps as you did as a child. you remembered all the times you tripped down them, bruising your knees chasing after the young prince's. you remembered of how you ran down the halls hiding from them. you remembered sneaking out at night to the kitchens and eating cakes in the gardens under the light of the moon with aemond until your eldest brother dragged you back to your chambers.

yet, it was now as you remembered how close you and aemond had been as children. your eyes catching the garden from within the castle walls.

"y/n! y/n, wait up." aemond's voice rang in your head. nothing more than just a whisper as the two of your crept through the halls. aemond in his sleep shirt and you in your nightgown. if the two of you had not been children the situation would have been frowned upon, heavily. for you more than him considering your status as a lady.

you bare feet slowed as you looked behind you. waiting for an out of breath aemond to catch up. the targaryen prince had been holding a napkin, the cloth tied shut, and his fist holding the knot tightly. aemond took your hand in his own once he reached you, pulling you with him now through the halls and into the gardens. your feet ran against the soft grass and under the godswood. you sat beside the prince, as your little fingers fumbled with the tight knot. aemond helped you untie it and slid himself closer to you. the both of you side by side and your little fingers were pinching at the lemon cake.

"i stole this at dinner," aemond informed you as he shoved some of the cake in his mouth.

"did anyone see you?" you questioned softly, filling your own mouth as you did.

"just aegon-" aemond stopped himself. the boy remembered of how aegon called him a pig for taking more. though, he knew not of the nights that he shared with you, and aemond simply told his older brother to fuck off. "but he doesn't know." aemond assured you.

"good, your brother likes to make the worst of everything. doesn't he?" you remarked rather casually- but aemond had stopped eating. your dark eyes looking up now with regret in your own words. you had known how his brother and his nephews would torment him. aemond told you, here in the gardens, when the both of you were alone. "aemond-" your voice soft, your hand going to meet his again to comfort him.

what little comfort you felt you could offer. you hadn't known it now, but it was the only comfort aemond had ever known.

"it would be different if i too had a dragon." aemond defended himself, his eyes saddened and he looked down to his lap.

"dragons aren't everything, aemond. i don't have a dragon and i'm-" you were trying to comfort him, but the boy was quick to snap again.

"you wouldn't understand y/n- you're just a strong." aemond snapped at you. you closed your mouth and looked away, aemond quickly realizing his mistake in snapping at you and his hands grabbed at yours again. "no, no, y/n. i'm sorry. i didn't mean it in that way" he pleaded with you. his voice near begging you to turn to look at him. his fingers placed at your jaw as you turned to meet his eyes. "i'm a targaryen. we're dragon riders; all of them are but me. and- and its not fair" aemond eventually crumbled. you recalled as tears had begun to run from his eyes. aemond fell into your arms and wept.

"i'm sorry, aemond. i am." you whispered in an attempt to comfort him. your arms wrapped around the crying boy and help him close, he would sniffle and eventually pulled himself together.

"i wish i could take you on dragon back with me. so that way you would understand." aemond pleaded.

"maybe one day you will," you smiled to him and aemond smiled back to you at the very thought.

the sweet moment between the two of you was short lived, as your eldest brother harwin came storming into the garden. you barely had a moment to scramble to your feet before he grabbed onto your arm.

"y/n, how many times have i told you not to be sneaking out with the prince after dark?" harwin questioned you. your face went pale as his dark eyes peered into your own. "keep this up and i'll tell father you need to go back home. to harrenhal." he threatened. you began to resist him, began to plead, but aemond would have none of this.

"ser harwin strong. you will let lady y/n go. your prince demands it." aemond's voice was weak but he knew what to say. harwin, however, looked to the boy debating on what to do. "unhand her or i will tell my mother what you've done here on this night" aemond threatened again.,

harwin let go of your arm in a bit of a gruff, "the king wants the both of you in bed. go on your way or i will tell father, y/n." he demanded. the two of you would run off to your own chambers. but it was far from the last time the both of you had snuck out.

you were only a babe when your father brought you with him to the red keep. his first daughter, the product of his third wife. lyonel strong the newly appointed hand of the king had hoped that the court of the red keep would raise his daughter well. that you would grow in the mannerisms of a lady. lyonel thought this was be good for you. but if he had known of what was to happen he would have never allowed your mother to carry you past the door.

it was there in the red keep that you were raised closely with the kings own children as well as the princess's sons. the seven of you were only children, but even then the tensions had grown. even though you were only a girl you could see it. though, the turmoil's of your life had made you long forget the ones held at the court of the red keep.

your eyes stared at the godswood, reminiscing when you hear someone summon you.

"lady tyrell, it has been too long since you've last visited the red keep." you heard a voice call from behind you, lady tyrell a name you never really adjusted too. behind you was the sight of the queen.

"you grace," you bowed before her, queen alicent. "that it has been," you smiled to her softly.

"you're not with your husband?" she questioned you, her own hands brought together.

"no. lord tyrell is resting from the journey. he does not do well in far travels. even in the carriage." you insisted, giving her a smile to which alicent nodded in understanding.

"well, i do hope you get the chance to properly visit with aemond while you're here. i recall the two of you were good friends all those years ago." alicent spoke very matter of fact, but the mention of aemond was enough to make you smile.

"yes. i recall the same," you hummed. "where is the prince? i do hope our paths may cross before I retire with my husband." you questioned alicent who could not resist the smile that fell on her pale lips.

"aemond? he's off with vhagar, of course." alicent was practically musing.

you never got the privilege to see aemond on a dragon. you heard word at high garden when prince aemond lost his eyes. when he claimed vhagar as his dragon. there had never been a smile on your face like the one you had that day. though, you wished the letter would have been from aemond. for reasons that seemed obvious now aemond never wrote to you and you were never allowed to write to him.

perhaps it had been more obvious to everyone, but the both of you that the two of you were smitten over each other at a young age. perhaps it was the fact you were children, or perhaps it was that each of you lacked the confidence, but neither of you were able to see it yourself. aegon would constantly berate aemond every time he looked longingly in your direction. "can't you be more obvious? looking at y/n like she's a dragon. like looking at things you'll never have?" aegon would taunt constantly. he would get close to you. his hands wrapping around yours as you played just to bother his brother.

but you had never seen it. now, you could look back on your time together and the feeling in your chest grew warm. though the feeling was quickly snuffed out by the reminder of your station. a married woman. your husband was many years your successor and the two of you were yet to conceive a child after all these years together. your marriage to him felt like torture as the years passed on. he was never specifically cruel or vile towards you, not in the way that you heard stories of men hitting their wives or calling them names. but there had been no love in your marriage and you knew that you never would come to love him. for when you looked into his eyes all you could feel was loss. perhaps things could have been different had your father not betrothed you so young.

even that night as you laid next to your sleeping husband under the canopy you were unable to find sleep. you had hoped the journey would be enough to make you rest and yet? your eyes continued to look at the black silk of the canopy curtains. you stood from the bed, pulling on a robe to cover your nightgown, and quietly left the bedroom chambers. you walked along the torches through the halls you would sneak around when you were a child. there was an uneasiness about walking amongst the castle this late. part of you worried that harwin would be around the corner ready to scream at you to go back to your chambers. another part of you feared your own father may come to question why you were out of bed. though, you reminded yourself that was not possible. if anyone were to come for you here it would be larys. your last brother. the one who summoned you and your husband to the red keep in the first place.

it was a cruel thought to think. but you often thought of what your life would have become if your father would have died after your betrothal. if larys would have allowed you to stay there, with him at the red keep. it was a bitter thought. wishing he had been dead sooner, and yet? you thought it often. you didn't want to. in fact you tried not to think of nothing at all. your feet reached the open gardens and you paid no mind to the bitter air that attacked your exposed skin. you tried to look at the godswood, at the flowers in the moon light. anything to not think about your father or harwin. however, at the red keep again the thoughts felt impossible to keep away. you could not begin but to remember of how you cried the day that you found out your father had betrothed you after lord tyrell's first wife had passed. you went crying from the room after begging him and pleading with him to change his mind. to reconsider. but your father had made his decision. he promised you that one day you would thank him for the position he arranged for you. a chuckled slipped your lips, wondering if the time to be thankful would ever come.

"still sneaking away from your chambers at night?" the voice mused on. it was familiar and you could not help the smile that flooded to your lips as your turned around to see behind. before you stood aemond targaryen. taller than you remembered, leaner, his hair long and a patch covering his eye. he had been dressed in black, from head to toe. aemond did not look as you remembered him to look. though you were sure you did not look as he had remembered you either. still, the both of you smiled to one another.

"aemond-" you cheered gleefully. you were quick to rush into his arms. it was not proper of either of you. both knowing anyone could see, that neither of you respected the formalities. that the two of you now stood in the gardens as you did when you were children. his arms wrapped tightly around the frame of your body and your face nuzzled into his chest. you would hold one another for longer than two friends should before creating distance again. you looked up at aemond's face and his eye had been on you and only you. "you've grown-" you remarked, the smile not fading from your lips.

"as have you, y/n" aemond spoke. he reached out, carefully. taking your hand in his own and beginning to pull you along with him gently. "come on, y/n. there's something i want to show you." aemond instructed you. there was a small part of you that knew you shouldn't go with him. that you were a married lady in her night clothes with nothing but a robe to keep your modesty. though you followed aemond, without a second thought. despite what you knew you did not hesitate as aemond led you through the castle and you blindly followed him through the red keep. down the castle stairs and outside beyond the castle walls.

"should we be here, aemond?" you questioned following him blindly into the dark.

"if i told you we weren't would you turn back?" aemond did not as much as look to you he only continued walking.

"never" you confessed.

"then, no. we shouldn't. but i've been waiting years to show you vhagar" aemond continued to lead you through the field but it was easy to see her. the sight of her was near frightening to you. involuntarily your body moved closer to aemond's, the sight of her was frightening, but aemond could not help but to smile as he watched you cower. "it's okay. she won't hurt you when you're with me. i swear it." he reassured you as he approached vhagar.

your eyes took in the dragon before you and aemond was quick to move to the netting that hung from her side. one of his hands gripping onto it as he once again pulled you close to him. "you trust me, don't do you?" aemond questioned his hand bringing yours to the rope.

"yes," you confessed near breathless. it was now that aemond helped you up the dragon's side. him behind you, arms wrapped around grabbing onto the net, as he helped you climb her. when finally up, one of his hands gently held your waist get onto the saddle. aemond quickly pulled himself behind you. both of his hands pulling you from behind in a way that your back was against his chest and his arms were wrapped around your torso as he grabbed the reigns of the dragon. this was the moment that aemond has always wanted to show you, and as vhagar took off he could not contain the smile that made his way to his face as he watched your first ride on a dragon. aemond would take you flying on vhagar, the wind in your hair as you screamed with joy. your robe no longer tied as aemond kept his arms wrapped around you tightly. where aemond took you was unrecognizable to you now. some distant place from kingslanding; perhaps you knew it when you were a child but you had known it no longer now. aemond was quiet at the two of you sat on the ground. his arms were still wrapped around yours and his eye had been looking to you.

"i have missed you, here. y/n . . . " aemond confessed as your eyes looked up to meet his. a soft smile glowing on your lips.

"as i have missed you, my prince" you cooed to him softly, sitting up so that the two of you could be face to face. there was a silence that followed. a feeling that did not go away and it strained your chest and weakened your legs. you felt it when he looked at you the way he did now. aemond's hand cradled your face, pulling you close to him by your jaw, and without asking he pressed his lips onto yours. you kissed him back, your soft subtle lips that fought against his own. his hand grabbing onto the neckline of your nightgown as he begun to pull at it, exposing the skin of your shoulder. the sudden feeling of your duty flooding you through the mess of passionate kisses the two of you were ingulfed in.

"wait, wait- aemond we shouldn't do this." you attempted to stop what was unfolding before you. aemond kissed you again, and once again you kissed him back. your eyes closed before pulling yourself from his lips again. a nearly impossible task. "no, aemond. i'm married. i have a husband-" you pleaded.

the very mention of your husband was enough to make his blood boil. his face went cold for a moment as aemond remembered when he had found out about your betrothal. you were only given a day to pack your belongings and leave for high garden.

aemond remembered how your father had pulled his sobbing daughter away from the prince. he too had been in tears at the announcement. it was the last time he had seen you. being dragged by your father as you sobbed. the image of you in tears stuck in his mind as the years passed. you hadn't known this; your father never told you, and aemond never got the chance to, but the moment your father dragged you away aemond went running in tears to his mother. the youngest born prince burst into her room and ran to her. alicent's arms opened immediately and frantically.

"what is it? what happened, aemond? tell me-" alicent went frantic. she had never seen aemond so upset before and she worried that someone had been hurt.

"he betrothed her- y/n. lynoel strong. he betrothed her to the lord of high garden. he- he-" aemond was sobbing and alicent's arms were quick to wrap around her son. she had known what everyone around the castle had known. if anything she was waiting for this day to come and she rubbed her sons back as he wept into her chest.

"oh, aemond." alicent sighed. the queen paused attempting to gather some kind of comfort for her youngest son. "there comes a time in every young girls life when she must be betrothed. to become a wife." alicent begun to give her speech but aemond begun to push her back his face now red and flushed with anger.

"mother. no- i'm not upset about her being betrothed. i just-" aemoond stopped himself for a second before finally letting it out. "she should have been betrothed to me! not some lord of high garden. a rose? we're dragons- why not me?" aemond was sobbing again. "is it because i'm not the first born son?" he questioned tears in his eyes again. "is it because i don't have a dragon?" aemond wept again.

"no no, aemond. that's not why, darling" alicent quickly tried to scoop up her son, but he pushed her away the moment she came in contact with him. "aemond, please- i know she is your friend-" alicent hardly got a chance to get her words out before aemond interrupted her again.

"she's not just my friend." aemond spoke up, feeling a need to make his message clear on how important this was to him. "she's the only person in this whole bloody castle who treats me like i'm not wrothless." aemond spat out through his own sobs. alicent looked with sympathetic eyes. unsure what she had the power to do and in turn, she caved.

"i will offer lord strong a marriage proposal for her hand in place of lord tyrell. do you understand?" alicent attempted to clean her son's face. aemond would nod finally accepting his mothers arms again.

alicent would make the proposal to lynoel strong. y/n strong and prince aemond targaryen, to be wed in a few years time. but your father denied it without consideration. he did not waiver. he did not even give her a reasonable doubt. instead, lynoel sent you away to high garden and you watched, weeping out of a carriage window unaware that aemond was even an option for you. aemond, however, had known that some day you would return to him. if it were by the hands of the gods or his own hand.

now you were in his arms and there had only been one problem. your husband. something aemond thought about long before you arrived. "y/n. your husbands dead-" aemond informed you, he did not waiver. not once as he spoke. a look of confusion consumed your features.

"aemond . . ." you trailed off in your own confusion. "what are you talking about?" you questioned him brows furrowed together.

"he's gone, y/n. dead. that fat fool was smothered in his bed." aemond informed you without mercy. without remorse. still you looked at him in confusion, horror- unsure on how to process what aemond was saying to you.

"aemond. did you- did you have my husband killed?" you asked bluntly. there had been no mannerism that could have asked what you were asking him now. what you had already known. aemond smiled.

"obviously. hadn't you wondered why larys requested that the both of you come to kings landing? come on, y/n. i know after all these years at high garden you haven't become daft. i never stopped thinking about you." aemond confessed, his hand returned to your jaw and gently pulled you in closer to him. eye to eye, nose to nose. "even the largest dragon in the world could not fill the hole that you left behind." he confessed, his breath hot on your face.

"say you'll marry me. we'll set things right. say you'll marry me and be my wife. marry me and carry my heirs. say it, y/n." aemond was practically pleading with you. but the pleading had not been necessary. aemond had you wrapped around his finger.

"i'll marry you-"

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