matthewrobertswife

[matthewrobertswife]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

[matthewrobertswife]

[matthewrobertswife]

[matthewrobertswife]

[matthewrobertswife]

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A post shared by L A U R A J A Y N E 💞 (@laurajayneprincess)

Uncle Matty with the kiddies.

Courtesy of his sister Laura.

He's really cute with kids. 🥹 Imagine him being a father to his own?

[matthewrobertswife]

The Dragon’s Defiance

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: Queen Alicent Hightower attempted to humiliate you, the pregnant wife of Daemon Targaryen, by summoning you to the throne room in a calculated power play. However, Daemon fiercely defended you, publicly dismantling Alicent’s scheme and forcing King Viserys to intervene in your favor. Alicent’s plan backfired, exposing her desperation and strengthening your bond with Daemon. Together, you stood as an unshakable force, a reminder that dragons bow to no one.

Pairing: Reader/Daemon Targaryen

The Red Keep had always been a maze of whispers and shadows, but since Queen Alicent Hightower had risen to power beside King Viserys, the castle walls seemed alive with sharp ears and sharper tongues. You had lived within these halls long enough to understand how quickly alliances could shift, how loyalty could be traded like coin. Yet, for all the intrigue that surrounded you, you had never let the weight of court life break you.

You were Targaryen, wife to Daemon Targaryen—the Rogue Prince—and mother to his children. For over a decade, your union had weathered storms that would have destroyed others. Now, pregnant with your fourth child, you carried the latest testament to the strength of your bond. But this time, the storm came not from without, but from the very heart of the Red Keep.

The morning had been peaceful, the sun streaming through the windows of your chambers. You reclined on a cushioned chaise, a hand resting on the swell of your belly as you read. The warmth of the fire lulled you into a sense of calm until hurried footsteps interrupted the tranquility. A servant entered, pale and trembling.

“My lady,” the servant began, their voice unsteady, “the Queen requests your presence in the throne room.”

You frowned, sitting up straighter. “In my condition?” you asked, your hand instinctively cradling your belly.

The servant hesitated. “Her Grace insisted, my lady. She wishes to… address you before the court.”

You understood immediately. This was no simple summons; it was a calculated move. A veiled insult. Alicent had always sought ways to assert her power, to remind others that she ruled beside the King. Now, she sought to humiliate you in front of the court as she had done to Rhaenyra years before.

“Fetch my husband,” you said firmly, closing your book. “I will not attend alone.”

Moments later, Daemon entered, his steps deliberate, his expression dark. The servant recounted the Queen’s summons, and as they spoke, you could see the fury building in your husband’s eyes. His jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides.

“She dares to summon you like this?” Daemon growled. “In your condition?”

“She wishes to make a spectacle,” you replied calmly, though your pulse quickened. “To remind me—and the court—that she is queen.”

A dangerous smile spread across Daemon’s lips, one that never reached his eyes. “Then she will be reminded why I am her greatest threat.”

He helped you to your feet, his hand gentle but unyielding as he guided you. “You will not walk into her trap alone,” he promised. “And if she dares to humiliate you, I will tear her games apart.”

The throne room was filled when you arrived, the weight of countless eyes pressing down on you. But you held your head high, refusing to show any weakness. You were a dragon, and no Hightower would ever make you cower. Your hand rested lightly on Daemon’s arm as he led you into the hall, his presence a shield against the sea of whispers.

Queen Alicent stood near the Iron Throne, draped in green silk that shimmered in the torchlight. Her smile was thin, her eyes sharp as they fixed on you. King Viserys sat upon the throne, his frame frail, his face lined with illness. He looked troubled, his gaze flickering between you and Alicent.

“My lady,” Alicent greeted, her tone sweet but laced with malice. “It is so good of you to join us. I hope the walk was not too taxing in your… delicate state.”

You met her gaze evenly, refusing to rise to the bait. “I am quite capable, Your Grace. Though I admit I was surprised by your summons.”

“It is important for the realm to see the strength of its women,” Alicent said, her voice carrying through the hall. “Just as Princess Rhaenyra demonstrated after the birth of her sons.”

The implication was clear. Alicent wanted you to endure the same humiliation Rhaenyra had suffered years ago, parading yourself before the court mere days after childbirth. It was a calculated move to demean you and remind the court of her power.

Daemon’s low chuckle broke the tension, drawing every eye in the room. “You must be mistaken, Your Grace,” he said, his voice as sharp as Valyrian steel. “My wife is no servant to be paraded before the court like a curiosity.”

Alicent’s smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “It is a gesture of unity,” she replied, though her tone tightened. “One that would surely be appreciated by the people.”

Daemon stepped forward, his presence consuming the room. “Unity?” he echoed, his voice mocking. “Unity is forged through respect, not humiliation. My wife carries a Targaryen heir. If you think I will allow her to be used as a pawn in your games, you are gravely mistaken.”

A murmur rippled through the court, courtiers exchanging wide-eyed glances as Alicent’s composure slipped. Her cheeks flushed with anger, and her voice rose. “You overstep, Prince Daemon. This is not your decision.”

Daemon’s laugh was cold, his violet eyes darkening with fury. “Everything concerning my wife and child is my decision. And you would do well to remember that.”

The tension in the room reached a breaking point until Viserys raised his hand, his voice weak but firm. “Enough,” he said, silencing the court. “This matter is settled. My daughter-in-law will not be subjected to such treatment.”

Alicent opened her mouth to argue, but Viserys’s glare stopped her. She curtsied stiffly, her expression tight with barely concealed anger. “Of course, Your Grace.”

As you left the throne room, Daemon’s hand remained on your back, his fury palpable. Only when you were alone in your chambers did he let his anger spill over.

“She will pay for this,” he said quietly, his voice cold and dangerous. “Alicent forgets that dragons do not bow.”

“She sought to humiliate me,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. “But she failed. Thanks to you.”

His expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he cupped your face in his hands. “I will not let anyone harm you,” he vowed fiercely. “Not her, not anyone. You are my wife, my queen, and the mother of my children. Let her play her games—I will burn her ambitions to ash if she dares threaten you again.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. “We are stronger together,” you said softly. “Let her see that she cannot break us.”

Daemon kissed your forehead, his lips lingering as if to seal his promise. “Together,” he agreed, his voice low and certain. “Always.”

Word of the exchange spread quickly, the whispers echoing through the Red Keep. Alicent’s attempt to assert her dominance had backfired, and even her closest allies began to waver. The queen had sought to humiliate you but instead found herself exposed as desperate and grasping.

Within your chambers, there was peace. Daemon remained vigilant, his protectiveness extending to you and your children. The tension of the court lingered, but in his arms, you felt safe—untouchable. Alicent had underestimated the fire that burned within you and the bond you shared with your husband.

You were a dragon, and dragons did not kneel. Together, you and Daemon would ensure the world remembered that truth.

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[matthewrobertswife]

As a DW fan I’m tearing up at this pic🥹 my fav Doctor with three of my fav companions

[matthewrobertswife]

A delayed post but Happy Birthday to Matt's mum Lynne!!!

[matthewrobertswife]

If All Else Perished: XI (Final)

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader

summary: In part six, Daemon and his brother come to an agreement, as your father confronts you about your relationship with the Prince. Hurt/Comfort

word count: 3.9k

warnings: deals with the aftermath of sexual assault. parental abuse. 

masterlist

an: hello!! i am sorry that this last update took so very long, life really knows how to keep a person busy. i may write an epilogue for this series at some point, but other than that, it is finally completed!! i hope you’ll share your thoughts and thank you so much for reading!! <333 

______________________________________________________________

Even as you approached the forbidding throne and the King that sat upon it, your father was what frightened you most. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, your body shaking and your heart racing unforgivingly in your chest. Thoughts swirled around in your head as your mind tried desperately to process all you had experienced in the prior hour.

Keep reading

[matthewrobertswife]

Newly shared photo of Matt Smith

[matthewrobertswife]

Matt during fashion week hits different. 🤭

[matthewrobertswife]

Matt with his beautiful sister Laura Jayne.

Courtesy of his mum, Lynne. Thank you for spoiling us. ❤️

[matthewrobertswife]

E! News see what we see. 🤭 Go get 'em love.

[matthewrobertswife]

The Rogue’s Flower

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: Betrothed to the fiery and unpredictable Daemon Targaryen, you navigate the jealousy of Rhaenyra and the scrutiny of the court, emerging as the only one who can match Daemon’s fire with unwavering grace, solidifying a love and union that even the Rogue Prince vows to protect at any cost.

Pairing: Reader/Daemon Targaryen

The halls of the Red Keep buzzed with whispers, and you were at their center. Wherever you walked, the courtiers turned to watch, their gazes following you with awe, envy, and curiosity. They called you Westeros’ Flower, the most beautiful woman in the realm, a title that seemed almost too small to contain the presence you carried. But it wasn’t just your beauty that captivated the court—it was your grace, your strength, and your betrothal to none other than Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince.

Daemon had always been a man who bent the world to his will, a force of nature who answered to no one. His engagement to you had shocked many, for he was a man of fire and fury, and you were the embodiment of serenity and elegance. Yet beneath your composed exterior lay a spirit as unyielding as the man you were to marry. It was this balance that had drawn Daemon to you, though not everyone saw it so clearly.

No one struggled more with your presence than Rhaenyra Targaryen. Her bond with Daemon had always been close, their shared dragonfire a connection few could rival. But your arrival had shifted the dynamics, and Rhaenyra found herself watching from the sidelines as Daemon’s attention, once hers to command, was entirely consumed by you.

Rhaenyra’s jealousy simmered quietly, though it was impossible for her to fully mask. At a feast held in your honor, she approached you with a wine cup in hand, her expression poised but her violet eyes betraying the storm beneath. “You must find this overwhelming,” she said, her tone polite yet laced with an undercurrent of challenge. “The court, the whispers… my uncle’s affections.”

You tilted your head, meeting her gaze with a calm that belied the tension in the air. “Overwhelming?” you repeated, your voice soft yet unshakable. “No, Your Grace. I have always understood the weight of responsibility.”

Her smile tightened. “And my uncle’s… reputation? Does that not concern you?”

You held her gaze, unflinching. “It does not. Daemon may be many things, but above all, he is loyal. When he loves, he does so fiercely. I trust him.”

Before Rhaenyra could respond, Daemon’s voice cut through the tension. “Rhaenyra.” His tone was firm but not unkind, though his focus was entirely on you. He moved to your side, his hand resting possessively at the small of your back. “I trust you’re making my betrothed feel welcome?”

Rhaenyra faltered, the fire in her gaze dimming as she realized she could not compete with the unwavering way Daemon looked at you. “Of course, Uncle,” she said, her voice clipped. “It was only a friendly conversation.”

Daemon’s smirk was faint but unmistakable. “Good,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Because she is my future.”

Rhaenyra excused herself soon after, and the air felt lighter without the weight of her envy. Daemon turned to you, his violet eyes softening as he reached for your hand. “She’ll come to accept it in time,” he murmured. “But I don’t care if she doesn’t. My heart belongs to you, not her.”

His words sent warmth blooming in your chest, and you squeezed his hand gently. “Let her think what she will,” you said. “As long as you are mine, nothing else matters.”

Daemon’s devotion to you was not hidden—it was as fiery and open as the dragons that soared above the Red Keep. He spoke your name with reverence, defended you fiercely in court, and looked at you as though you were the only thing worth conquering. His reputation as a rogue melted away in your presence, leaving behind a man who was utterly and unapologetically yours.

One evening, as you walked together through the gardens of the Red Keep, he pulled you aside, away from the prying eyes of courtiers. The moonlight bathed the world in silver, and the faint scent of blooming roses lingered in the air. Daemon cupped your face in his hands, his gaze intense yet tender. “Do you know why I chose you?” he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

“Perhaps for the alliance,” you teased lightly, though your heart raced at the sincerity in his tone.

He shook his head, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “No. The alliance was a convenience. I chose you because you are the only person who sees me as I am and does not flinch. You do not fear the fire in me. Instead, you stoke it.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded. “And you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, “are the only one who makes me feel as though I am more than just beauty. You see the woman behind the title.”

He kissed you then, his lips fierce and unrelenting, as though he was claiming you all over again. When he pulled back, his smirk returned, tinged with mischief. “The court can call you Westeros’ Flower,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “But you are my queen, and that is all that matters.”

The day of your wedding arrived with the sound of dragons roaring overhead, their cries echoing through the Red Keep. The Great Hall was transformed into a spectacle of splendor, the air thick with the scent of flowers and dragonfire. As you walked down the aisle, every eye was on you, but yours were fixed solely on Daemon. He stood at the altar, resplendent in black and red, his silver hair gleaming in the light of the chandeliers. His gaze was unyielding, drinking in the sight of you as though nothing else in the world existed.

“You are mine,” he said softly, his voice meant only for you. “And I am yours. Forever.”

As the High Septon performed the rites, Daemon’s eyes never left yours. When the ceremony was complete, and the court erupted into cheers, he kissed you with a fervor that left no doubt in anyone’s mind where his heart lay. The feast that followed was filled with songs of your beauty and your union, but it was the way Daemon never left your side that spoke volumes. He danced with you, toasted to your happiness, and defended you from even the faintest whisper of doubt.

Rhaenyra watched from her seat, her hands clenched tightly in her lap as the reality of your bond with Daemon became undeniable. For all her fire and ambition, she knew she could never rival the love he bore for you. You were not just the most beautiful woman in Westeros—you were the woman who had tamed the Rogue Prince without ever needing to clip his wings.

As the night wore on and the court began to fade into the background, Daemon pulled you close, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “Let them whisper, let them envy,” he said. “You are mine, my flower, and I will burn the world for you if I must.”

And in that moment, you knew there was no force in the realm—no jealousy, no ambition, no fire—that could ever come between you. Bound by love, fire, and blood, you and Daemon were unbreakable.

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[matthewrobertswife]

Right Person, Right Time (Modern Daemon x Female Reader) (18+) (Non Canon Au)

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2

Summary : Daemon takes you to his bed, in the way you wanted and didn't want at the same time.

Warning: 18+ , Mention of infidelity, death, smut in later chapters, reader has self deprecating attitude

If it was possible to die from embarrassment, you would have been dead by now, perhaps you were overreacting because it has been barely 5 seconds since you had uttered those god awful words --

“Good take me to your bed then.. i don't want to be alone tonight "

Yeah you did that and the man next to you, the man that you had the audacity to insult just a few moments ago, the man whose last name wasn't something you had bothered to ask, the man who had heard you very clearly just now and had gone completely quiet on you, so quiet that you could hear your heartbeat.

He was not even giving you a moment of grace towards your undignified manner, you'd have preferred to hear a sharp no instead of the awkward silence that had clouded the compact space of the elevator and it was suffocating you... suffocating - 

And Thank Goodness your floor had arrived.

Now all you had to do was move out of this building and never see him again. Perhaps get out of the city and then the country while you were onto that.

As you were about to step out, his arm came in front of you and he pressed the close door button so you looked up at his face. God he was close, too close, you could smell him and he didn't smell awful. On the contrary, he smelled fucking fantastic but then his manly scent reminded you of Marco and you wanted to disappear again.

“That's not my floor lady” He said to you so you gulped in response, his mouth curved into a smile before he stepped away from you.

“So you heard me huh?” you asked as you crossed your arms.

“You were too loud and too clear” you huffed internally as he responded in that smug manner.

You could just say no right, though you asked for it, there was still time to get out of this situation, why get him involved in your tangled mess of a life? 

You wanted to say something but as you watched the elevator moving up you didn't really say anything, you didn't want to go back to your apartment. Too many memories, too many imprints of Marco over there. You had to survive the night somehow and you found yourself unable to do it all alone. He had made you so weak and so non fucntional.

“Ummm don't take this the wrong way but what I said just now- ” you chuckled to hide your embarrassment so he raised his brow “What I'm saying is that...I just..i ummm..i .. when I said that i –”

“Ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh” you turned your head to look at him as he shushed you, his lips formed a pout when he dragged the sound of the shushing as if he was speaking to a petulant child. Okay he had a nice set of lips, pink, and they looked soft and..well at least you weren't rebounding with some junkie hobo you thought. Not that there was anything right with this situation either.

As the elevator stopped finally at the top most floor and the door opened, you noticed another door and he stepped forward to enter the passkey, that door then opened straight into a -

“Lobby? You have a Lobby of your own?” You asked him as you followed him and looked around in wonderment, he smiled as he noticed the wide eyed look on your face. 

“Perks of the penthouse”

The lobby had a narrow corridor on the other end that lead towards the main area of the penthouse, he guided you to his supposed living room and you stared at him as he took his leather jacket off and dumped it on the couch before he unhooked the glasses from the collar of his white t-shirt and placed it on a side table, he then disappeared into one of the rooms and came back shortly after.

“You're ruining my carpet, dry yourself up” He threw the towel in your direction so you caught it swiftly before it could hit his shiny expensive carpet.

“Thanks..I guess” as you dried the dripping water from your hair you watched him strut his way behind the bar in the corner of the room, a part of you still wanted to run but then the thought of going back to the apartment and being all alone with nothing but the memories of you and Marco felt dreadful.

Two years and it meant nothing to him, you meant nothing to him, of course you didn't, you wanted to take out your phone and check if he had called or messaged but then again, every thought of yours circled back to the moment of him fucking someone else behind your back. Someone very hot and attractive.

“What's your choice of poison, love?” You heard Daemon's voice so you sighed and walked towards his couch to sit down.

“Anything would do in this moment” you answered him but had to grimace internally as he returned with two glasses of scotch on the rocks. When you said anything, you didn't mean a literal shot of gasoline. He offered you the glass so you took it and sipped on it because you had no other choice, the couch sank in as he sat down next to you so you scooted a little farther away from him..

“So ummm how do you afford all this.. generational wealth?” he smirked as you questioned him, you were so judgemental and assuming but for some reason this trait of yours didn't annoy him as much it would have if it was attached to someone else.

“Yeah, sort of, but I also work for it” he told you honestly so you chuckled in what seemed to be a very condescending manner.

“But you're home, at 5 in the afternoon?” you said to him as a matter of fact.

“I mostly work at nights..” 

“Doing..what exactly?” 

“I own businesses..clubs, bars, pubs, hotels, that sort of thing” he answered in a way that made you feel as if he was trying to sound humble about it but it didn't help his case, he was bragging and he was bragging hard.

“Anything you own that I might have heard of?” you asked him so he gave you a smile. That's what he had been waiting for.

“Dark Sister..the nightclub”

You almost spat out your drink as he said that, that stupid fucking place, that place was important to you, that's where you had met Marco for the first time, and he often took you there to unwind after a long week.

“You own that.. like the whole club?” you asked him, surprise evident in your voice. 

“No I just own one sofa in there..ofcourse i own the whole thing” 

“Ohhh ..i ..i didn't know that..i have been there..quite a few times.. never saw you there..do you even go there?” 

“All the time. There's a world outside your hot lover's arms you know? You never really got out of it did you?” you glared at him as he said that. What was this developing energy between you two?  It definitely wasn't positive to say the least but it didn't seem completely negative either. Up until this moment and for so long you two had been only nice with each other or polite would be a better suited term but this passive aggressive conversation didn't seem that way.

“Well.. He does have great arms, big.. manly arms, comforting arms…warmmmmm” your voice choked on your tears as you thought of him and as much as he despised hearing the praises of your cheating ex he understood what you were going through in the moment and he didn't want to add to your misery so he grabbed the tissue box from the coffee table and passed one to you.

“Thank you” you mumbled as you grabbed the tissue to wipe your dripping tears. Fucking Marco, he had ruined your life forever.

“Look i.. when I said I wanted you to get me into your bed-” 

And he interrupted you.

“I have a great bed, wanna see?” He spoke so you opened your mouth to say something offensive but you did want to see the bed after seeing that carpet.

“Fine..I'll see YOUR bed” you gestured to him with your fingers, air quoting the term dramatically to come across as uninterested.

As he led you towards his bedroom you looked around and sighed, you wanted to find something to complain about, perhaps messy clothes all around or dirt in the corner but it was squeaky clean thoroughly. You didn't know why you were behaving this way with him, what was this? Couldn't have been sexual tension.

And the king sized bed did look amazing, almost made you want to lie down but then the bed reminded you of Marco, everything reminded you of Marco. 

You sighed as you walked towards the bed and then turned to look at him.

“Okay let's do this ..no expectations..no promises..no attachment..no strings whatever right? It's just one night” you blinked your eyes to affirm your point so he chuckled and stepped towards you.

“You're a strange kind of woman, you know that?” he said as caressed his own chin as if he was assessing an anomaly.

“Way to compliment a woman you're about to fuck” 

“I’m not going to fuck you sweetheart..just sit down and relax” he said as he grumbled.

Okay you took that as an offense.

“Why ? Why can't you fuck me..am I so unfuckable? Would you rather fuck a hot stripper from your club or something? Would you fuck me if I was hot? Or a stripper? Or a hot stripper? What is wrong with me? Do tell me” His brows furrowed as you blabbed nonsensically. Now that you were focusing on it, his brows didn't really have.. brow hair ..his head was a different story though. Way too much hair. Thick and bushy, and curls at the bottom -

He suddenly walked towards you so you took a step back and hit the foot of the bed which made you sit down involuntarily.

“I do not own a strip club FYI, but if I did I'd hire you and you're right given the chance I'd certainly fuck this very hot, very fuckable stripper” he leaned down and placed his palms on the bed around you on as he spoke. Hazel eyes, he has hazel eyes mixed with green, you had never really noticed before.

He had a way, strange way of .. complimenting you and insulting you at the same time. So different from Marco, honey dripped from his mouth whenever he spoke to you.

“Then why won't you do it?” you asked him, your voice soft and vulnerable so he looked down for a moment and then looked right into your eyes again.

“I want to.. don't get it twisted but I’m not going to fuck a grieving woman, when I have a woman like you in my bed i like to think that I'm all she's thinking about in the moment. I'm not going to be inside you and have you wishing it was that lothario instead” he said to you before he stepped away, your eyes welled up and you didn't even try to control it this time. That lothario was the love of your life, it was just your luck that you weren't his.

“Why did you bring me here then?’ you asked him as you stood up so he crossed his arms.

“Because you didn't want to be alone.. and you're not alone right now, are you?”  he mumbled in a no nonsense tone and you didn't know what it was, it wasn't as if he had said anything profound or magical but the kindness in his tone made you break down right then, you sat down on his bed and wept as hard as you could. It was sinking in finally, you'd never find a man to love you again and you'd definitely never find anyone like Marco. 

He watched you for a moment, well a few moments before he walked towards the bed and laid down next to you, though maintaining an ample amount of distance from you. This morning when he woke up he definitely didn't imagine in his wildest thoughts that the pretty girl from his building would be crying profusely in his bed by the end of the day. A small part of him that he had killed long ago wanted to scoot closer and comfort you but he restrained himself.

No expectations, no promises, he had to live by that. For his own sake.

After what felt like hours when your sniffling died down you propped yourself on your elbows and stared at him, 

“Well ..you were right about one thing..this is a mighty good bed” he couldn't help but smile as you said that, as if you weren't bawling your eyes out just a minute ago..

“I only do the best darling” 

“Okay ummm..i.. would like to just keep my head down here and close my eyes for a moment -” 

You said to him so he immediately got up and grabbed your arms to pull yourself up as well.

“Change up first, you can't sleep in wet clothes and especially not in my bed you dummy” he said to you as if he was your father so you crossed your arms, you were just starting to find him tolerable.

“I'll just go to my apartment” you said to him so he sighed and walked towards his closet to grab a comfy tee and shorts that he hardly ever wears.

“Change and you can go” he commanded. Who did he think he was? A kind and known stranger who worried about you getting sick in your drenched clothes? Well fuck his kindness.

“I'll change when I'm home” you argued, at this point you were just arguing for the sake of it.

“No you won't..you'd collapse on your door, won't even make it to the bedroom” he argued further.

“If I change I'm sleeping in your bed ..you can find another..bed somewhere in this huge penthouse of yours” 

“Fine with me” 

You huffed as you grabbed the clothes from him and went to the bathroom to change quickly, you were glad the shirt was loose enough so he wouldn't notice that you weren't wearing your bra.

As you came out he stared at you, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“You find this funny?” 

“No..You just look so silly is all” 

“Blame your stupid clothes” 

He brought his hands up as if surrendering and accepting defeat finally so you decided to not say anything further. 

As you sat down next to him you turned your head to look at him.

“Thank you ..for the clothes and the bed and your company and everything else” you said to him as politely as you could amd you really meant it this time. He tilted his head as he noticed the hint of tears in your eyes.

He could tell you were going to be a trouble for him.

“Okay” he mumbled before he got up and walked towards the couch to lie down. 

You didn't want to be alone so he wasn't going to leave you alone. 

As your head hit the pillow and eyes closed you only saw the image of Marco fucking that hot brunette with fervent passion. It was burned in your memory now and you knew you'd never be able to unsee it no matter how much you wanted it but you could worry about that tomorrow, tonight you weren't alone so you didn't have to wallow in self pity.

“Daemon?” You called out his name so he hummed in response.

“What is your full name? I never asked -” 

You heard the sound of faint chuckling coming from him before he answered. 

“Targaryen..Daemon Targaryen” 

Targaryen.. Targaryen... Targaryen..where had you heard that name before, you had heard it somewhere and then suddenly it dawned on you.

You knew him. No that wasn't right, you knew about him.

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Note : What does she know?

Taglist @unofficialavenger90 @kimberleyneko-blog @m-riaa @anukulee @erebus-et-eigengrau @littledark11 @silhouetteofher

[matthewrobertswife]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇 as 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

Daemon' black jerkin tunic and red undershirt. HOUSE OF THE DRAGON S02E05.

[matthewrobertswife]

"My Sweet Little Niece" - Daemon Targaryen

Summary: You foolishly thought that no one would find you pleasuring yourself in the midnight hours...

Warnings: SMUT; typical targcest (reader is Daemon's niece and it is mentioned a LOT); use of the terms 'uncle' and 'niece' during sex; degradation (slut, whore etc.); light spanking (like one/two spanks); doggy style; quite rough sex (but both like it); breeding kink (Daemon finishes inside reader); dirty talk (use of the words cunt and such)

Notes: Reader is Daemon's niece (Rhaenyra's sister) and has white hair, but nothing else is specified. No specific time frame or mention of marriages/other relationships.

Words: 4.2k

-- aera xx

As Daemon Targaryen paces the cold, stone floors of the council room in Dragonstone, his footsteps echo softly against the walls, a rhythmic cadence that punctuates the heavy silence of the chamber. The room is austere yet grand, its walls adorned with tapestries depicting the sigil of House Targaryen — a three-headed dragon — woven in threads of crimson and gold. Tall windows line one side of the chamber, their panes frosted with a thin layer of ice, allowing slivers of pale winter moonlight to filter into the room and cast ethereal patterns upon the floor.

As Daemon's thoughts whirl in the chill air, his attention is suddenly drawn to quiet sighs and moans from a nearby bedchamber.

The castle was asleep at this hour, and it possibly couldn’t be a maid. Curiousness got the better of Daemon, and he went to investigate against his better judgment.

Once he reached the source of the sound, he smirked to himself. Of course. Who else could it be besides his sweet niece? Acting all innocent and loving before the eyes of the court and making sounds like a whore from the Silk Streets during the night.

He wondered who the lucky man between her plush thighs could be. Was it Aemond, or perhaps Aegon? What if it was Helaena, and this was the only time the two girls could show their desire for one another?

Already starting to walk away, something stopped him. The hardness in his breeches made it uncomfortable to move. He sighed and wiped across his face to compose himself.

Daemon needed to see. He needed to see his niece being pleasured by whoever it was. Be it a knight or a maid. Agonisingly slowly, he pulled open your door. Making sure no sounds betrayed his presence.

At first, you didn’t even notice his intrusion, too lost in the pleasure of two fingers circling your clit and two in your tight hole knuckles deep. But once you heard the familiar creak of the venerable wooden door, its aged hinges announcing a timeless entrance, your head instinctively snapped up. The air around you shifted, thick with expectation.

"Uncle Daemon!" you exclaimed, hastily pulling the sheets up to cover your bare form beneath. "I…I didn't expect you!"

You could feel the heat of embarrassment rising to your cheeks, mixed with a twinge of annoyance at having your private moment interrupted. Your long silver-white hair was tousled against the pillow, strands clinging to your sweat-dampened skin.

"I was just…" you fumbled for an excuse, your voice trailing off lamely. There was no hiding the truth - you had been caught in the throes of self-indulgence, fingers buried knuckle-deep inside your dripping cunny as you imagined being taken roughly by one of the handsome young knights in service to the crown.

Your mind raced as you tried to find the right words to explain yourself, but your tongue felt heavy and clumsy in your mouth. You knew that your actions were scandalous, especially for a highborn lady of House Targaryen, but you couldn't help the thrill of excitement that ran down your spine at the thought of being caught in such a compromising position.

Your fingers were still buried deep inside your sopping wet cunny, the evidence of your shameful desires dripping down your thighs and staining the fine silk sheets beneath you. The air was thick with the musky scent of your arousal, mingling with the faint smell of lavender that clung to your skin from your earlier bath.

Daemon's eyes widened slightly at the sight before him, his gaze flickering over your dishevelled form and the obvious signs of your recent activities. For a moment, he was struck dumb, caught off guard by the raw, primal desire that radiated from his niece's body like a physical force. He could feel his cock stirring to life in his breeches, thickening and hardening as he drank at the sight of you.

But then his training kicked in, and Daemon schooled his features into a mask of stern disapproval. He crossed the room in a few long strides, the heavy tread of his boots muffled by the plush carpet. Leaning down, he grasped your wrist firmly and withdrew your fingers from between your thighs, ignoring the way you gasped at the sudden loss of stimulation.

"Darling," he said, his voice low and cold. "What in the seven hells are you doing, girl? Playing with yourself like some common whore? Is this how you spend your nights, indulging in base carnal desires?"

His grip on your wrist tightened, and he brought your hand up to his face, pressing your fingers against his lips. The taste of your arousal exploded on his tongue, sweet and musky and utterly intoxicating. Daemon's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savouring the flavour of his niece's essence.

"You're a Targaryen," he growled, releasing her wrist and straightening up. "You should know better than to give in to such shameful appetites. Especially not with your uncle standing right outside your door."

Despite his harsh words, there was an undercurrent of something else in Daemon's tone - a dark, simmering heat that belied his stern exterior. He could feel the pulse of his own need, throbbing in his loins and demanding to be satisfied. The sight of you sprawled out across her bed, flushed and wanton and ready to be taken, was almost more than he could bear.

Daemon took a step back, putting some distance between them. He raked a hand through his golden locks, trying to calm his growing hunger for you.

Your heart raced as you watched Daemon lick your essence from his fingers, his eyes closing in bliss as he savoured the taste. The sight sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins, and you couldn't help but spread your thighs wider, inviting him to take a closer look at your dripping cunny.

The guilt that churned in your stomach was nothing compared to the raw, primal desire that consumed you. You had done far worse things behind closed doors, indulged in darker, more forbidden pleasures. This was merely a taste of the debauchery that coursed through your veins.

“Daemon," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Please, don't be angry with me. I… I couldn't help myself. The need was too great, too overwhelming to ignore."

You batted your eyelashes at him, hoping to soften his stern demeanour with an innocent, pleading look. You knew the power of your beauty, the way men were drawn to you like moths to a flame. It was a gift, one you had learned to wield like a weapon.

"You're the only one who truly understands me," you continued, your words dripping with honey.

As you spoke, you reached out with trembling fingers, tracing the hard planes of Daemon's chest through his shirt. You could feel the heat of his skin beneath the fabric, the steady thrum of his heartbeat. It called to you, urging you to press herself against him.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you awaited Daemon's response, your dripping sex exposed to his piercing gaze. You could feel the weight of his stare like a physical touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. The vulnerability you felt at that moment was both terrifying and exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and desire that made your head spin.

Daemon's eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of your glistening folds, his nostrils flaring as he caught the intoxicating scent of your arousal. He could feel his cock straining against the confines of his breeches, throbbing with the need to bury itself inside your tight, wet heat.

He took a step closer, looming over your prone form on the bed. "You're playing a dangerous game, little one," he growled, his voice low and rough with barely contained lust. "Teasing me like this, exposing yourself to me. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Your breath caught in your throat as Daemon reached out, his fingers grazing along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You could feel the calluses on his hands, the strength in his grasp as he slowly inched higher and higher, until his touch was mere inches away from your aching core.

"I… I wanted you to see," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Although it wasn’t entirely true, you did still however want him to take you. And with these sweet words, he would cave in no time.

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain control over his raging desires. He knew that what he was about to do was wrong, a betrayal of every moral code. But the temptation was too great to resist, the allure of his niece's forbidden fruit too powerful to deny.

With a low, animalistic growl, Daemon surged forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. He plundered your mouth with his tongue, claiming you, possessing you, marking you as his own. One hand tangled in your long, silver hair, tugging it.

You moaned into the kiss. It was like a siren's call, luring Daemon further into the depths of depravity. With a growl, he allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed, his muscular body covering yours as he claimed your mouth with renewed hunger. His hands roamed over your curves, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh like a man possessed.

Your fingers scrabbled at Daemon's linen shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin. You tugged impatiently at the fabric, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank the garment over his head and toss it aside. Your eyes widened at the sight of his toned chest, marred only by a few silvery scars from battles long past.

"By the gods, Uncle," she gasped, your hands greedily exploring the planes of his back and shoulders. "You're so strong."

Daemon's lips curled into a smirk as he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his breeches. "And you, my little girl, are a temptress beyond compare," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "So soft, so ripe, so ready to be plucked."

Your back arched off the bed as Daemon trailed his lips down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the ache between your thighs growing more intense with each passing second.

"Please, Daemon," you whimpered, your hips rocking against his in a primal rhythm. "I need you, I need to feel you inside me, filling me, claiming me."

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, his control hanging by a thread. With a low growl, he captured your lips once more, swallowing your moans as he reached down and tore at the laces of his breeches. His cock sprang free, thick and hard and throbbing with need.

Your eyes widened as you took in the impressive sight of Daemon's manhood, your breath catching in your throat at the sheer size of him. You had always known that your uncle was a proud, confident man, but now you understood the true source of his cockiness. His cock was a work of art, thick and veiny and pulsing with an almost palpable hunger.

Unable to resist, you reached out with a shaking hand, wrapping your fingers around the hot, velvety length. You licked your palm, spitting into it to provide some lubrication as you began to stroke him slowly, marvelling at the weight of him in your grasp.

Daemon let out a low, guttural moan as your hand moved along his shaft, his hips rocking into your touch. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Stroke me, princess. Show me what that clever little hand can do."

You smiled up at him, your eyes shining with wicked delight. You shimmied closer to him on the bed, watching with rapt attention as Daemon stood before you, his cock extending out obscenely from between his legs.

The blood coursed hot and heavy through Daemon's veins as you worked his shaft, your delicate fingers gliding over his throbbing flesh in a slow, torturous rhythm. He could feel every nerve ending screaming for more, for the tight, wet heat of your cunt wrapped around him.

"You like that, don't you?" You purred, your hand pumping faster, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. "You like feeling my hand on your big, hard cock. I bet you've dreamed of this, of fucking your sweet little niece, filling her up with your seed."

Daemon let out a feral snarl, his hips snapping forward as he fucked your hand, chasing the pleasure that only you could give him. "You have no idea what I've dreamed of," he growled, his eyes burning into yours. "What I've planned, what I'm going to do to this tight little body of yours."

"Mmh, yeah? Why don’t you tell me then?” Your words and actions grew bolder as you saw his reaction to your touch, your arousal gushing out of you at the erotic sight.

Your daring words and bold actions ignited a fire in Daemon's loins that threatened to consume you both. His cock throbbed and pulsed in your grasp as you started to tease the tip with your tongue, your lips forming a tight seal around his engorged head. The sight of his niece's pretty mouth stretched obscenely around his shaft sent a fresh surge of heat straight to his groin.

"Fuck, you filthy little minx," Daemon growled, his fingers tangling in your long silver hair. He tugged at it roughly, forcing you to take more of him into your hot, wet mouth. "You want to know what I'm going to do to you? I'm going to ruin you for any other man. I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, that you'll never be able to forget the feel of my cock inside you."

You moaned around his length, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through Daemon's body. You could feel the sticky wetness of her arousal coating your thighs, the musky scent of her desire mingling with the taste of his pre-cum on her tongue.

"Mmmph, yes Uncle Daemon," you slurred, your words muffled by his thick cock filling your mouth. "Ruin me, use me, make me yours. I want to feel you in every inch of me."

"That's it," he growled, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into your warm mouth, throbbing. "Take it all, baby girl. Take every inch of your uncle's big, hard cock."

You moaned around him, the sound sending shivers down Daemon's spine. You relaxed your throat, allowing him to slide deeper until the head of his cock was bumping against the back of your throat. Your nose nestled in the thick, wiry curls at the base of his shaft, inhaling the musky, masculine scent of him.

"Gods, you're a natural," Daemon praised, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "Such a good little cocksucker, so eager to please your uncle."

Your eyes fluttered closed, lost in the haze of pleasure as you worked Daemon's cock with your mouth and hand. You could feel the heavy weight of it on your tongue, the pulsing heat of it against the roof of your mouth.

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he fought to maintain control. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, the urge to bury himself to the hilt in your tight, dripping cunt becoming more and more overwhelming with each passing second.

"Enough," he snarled, yanking you off his cock with a lewd pop. "I can't take it anymore. I need to be inside you, need to feel you wrapped around me like a vice."

With a swift, brutal movement, Daemon flipped you onto your hands and knees, kicking your legs apart to expose the glistening folds of your sex.

The sudden shift in position caused you to let out a surprised yelp. You felt Daemon's strong hands grip your hips, lifting your rear end high in the air. You instinctively arched your back, presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. The cool air of the bedchamber kissed your bare flesh, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.

The depraved display sent a bolt of pure lust through Daemon's veins, his cock twitching with the need to claim you, to make you his in the most primal way possible.

"Gods, you're a vision," Daemon growled appreciatively, his emerald eyes roaming hungrily over your upturned ass and dripping cunny. "So wet and ready for me already."

He gave you a sharp smack on the rump, relishing the way you jolted and let out a gasp. The reddening handprint on your skin looked deliciously obscene.

"That's it, present yourself to your uncle like a good little whore," he commanded, lining up his swollen cockhead with your entrance. "Show me how much you need my cock filling this greedy little cunt."

You moaned wantonly, reaching back with one hand to spread herself open for him. Your puffy folds glistened with arousal, practically begging to be stuffed full. The shame of what you were doing only served to heighten your arousal, the taboo nature of your relationship sending electric thrills down your spine.

"Please, Uncle Daemon," you begged, your voice high and needy. "I need you inside me, stretching me, filling me up. I'll do anything, be anything you want me to be."

Daemon let out a low, appreciative chuckle as he stepped up behind you, his large hands gripping your hips with bruising force. "Anything, hmm? We'll see about that."

Without warning, he slammed his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You screamed in ecstasy, your walls clenching around him like a vice as he filled you.

"Fuck, you're tight," Daemon grunted, his hips snapping against your ass as he set a punishing pace. "So fucking tight and wet for me, baby girl. Your little cunt was made for my cock."

You could only moan in response, your body rocking forward with each powerful thrust of Daemon's hips. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure and Daemon's grunts of exertion.

As Daemon pounded into you, one hand snaked around your waist, his fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubbed it roughly, the calloused pads of his fingers sending jolts of electricity through your body.

A broken sob escaped your lips as you felt his fingers rub tight circles around your swollen clit. Hips jerking from the stimulation.

"There she goes," Daemon growled, his fingers working your clit with merciless precision. "My sweet little niece, so responsive, so desperate for her uncle's touch."

You could only moan in response, your head hanging down, your long silver hair cascading over your shoulders. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling filled the room, a lewd symphony of flesh slapping against flesh and the squelch of your dripping arousal.

You shivered at his praise, your body still humming with pleasure. Despite the shame that threatened to overwhelm you, you couldn't deny how much you had enjoyed being used so thoroughly.

Daemon angled his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each powerful thrust. He could feel your velvety walls rippling around him, milking his cock for all it was worth.

As he looked down he could see a ring of white cream coating the base of his cock, your arousal so evident. He smirked to himself and sped up his pace, fucking you almost brutally.

Daemon's brutal pace showed no signs of slowing, his hips pistoning in and out of your tight heat with relentless force. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed off the stone walls, mingling with your wanton moans and whimpers.

"Look at you," Daemon growled, his voice rough with lust. "My sweet little niece reduced to a mewling, cock-hungry slut. You love this, don't you? Love being used like a cheap whore, love having your uncle's cock stuffing your needy cunt."

You couldn't deny it, not with the way your body was responding to his harsh words and even harsher thrusts. Your back arched, pushing your hips back to meet him thrust for thrust, your nails digging into the fine linens beneath you.

Daemon's hand left your clit, moving up to fist a handful of your long silver hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him over your shoulder. His eyes were wild, burning with a primal hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

"Who does this cunt belong to?" he snarled, his voice a dark promise. "Who owns your pretty little body, baby girl?"

"You do," you gasped out, the words spilling from your lips unbidden. "It's all yours, Uncle Daemon. I'm yours."

"Damn right, you are," Daemon growled, releasing his grip on your hair to wrap his arms around your waist. He pushed you down onto your stomach and lifted your hips, shifting the angle of his thrusts to strike even deeper, harder, faster.

The new position had you seeing stars, your cries of pleasure resonating off the stone walls. Each thrust sent ripples of ecstasy through your body, your muscles clenching around him like a vice.

"Say it again," Daemon demanded, his voice strained. "Tell me who this pussy belongs to."

"You," you sobbed, your voice high and breathy. "It's yours, Daemon. All yours."

"That's right, baby girl," Daemon growled, his hips slamming into you with renewed vigour.

Your body was trembling beneath him on the silky sheets of your bed. Your tight hole spasming around Daemon's big cock, creaming all over his length. Like a bitch in heat you screamed in pleasure below him, cunt gripping him in a vice.

Daemon's grip tightened on your hips as he drove into you with pure animalistic lust, your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts of exertion. Bed creaking beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each violent thrust. The feeling of your tight, dripping cunt spasming around him was almost too much to bear. Daemon could feel his release barreling towards him like a freight train, his balls drawing up tight against his body. The filthy sounds of your cries and the obscene squelch of your arousal filling the room only served to heighten his lust.

"That's it, princess," Daemon growled, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp smack. "Take it all, take every inch of your uncle's big, hard cock."

You moaned wantonly, your hips bucking as he hit that sweet spot deep inside you. Your juices coated his shaft, easing the way as he pounded into you relentlessly.

"Uncle Daemon," you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure. "It's so good, so deep. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Daemon grinned savagely, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigour. He could feel the tension building in his lower belly, the tell-tale tingle in his spine that signalled his impending release.

"Oh, Gods! I'm gonna cum!" You managed to squeal into the sheets, tears starting to stream down your face from the intensity of his thrusts.

"Aw, fuck yes, you are," Daemon growled, his voice a dark promise. "Cum for me, baby girl. Cum all over your uncle's big, hard cock."

His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deep into your convulsing channel. Your cries of ecstasy filled the room, your body shaking with the force of your release.

You could feel your juices squirting out around Daemon's shaft, your inner muscles clenching and fluttering as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. It seemed to go on forever, your vision blurring at the edges, your mind numb from the sheer intensity of it all.

Daemon held you close, his arms wrapping around your trembling form as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your pleasure. His release was fast approaching, his balls drawing up tight against his body.

"Fuck," he gasped, his voice strained. "Gonna fill you up, gonna pump you full of my seed. Gonna make you mine in every fucking way."

With a final, brutal thrust, Daemon buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilt his hot seed deep within your womb. You could feel it, the way his thick, potent cum coated your inner walls, marking you as his.

As you both came down from your high, Daemon pulled out of you with a lewd pop. He flopped down onto the bed beside you, gathering you into his arms and pulling you close.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat as you basked in the afterglow. Despite the taboo nature of your relationship, there was a rightness to being here with Daemon, a sense of belonging that you had never felt with anyone else.