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khaleesi-posts-stuff · 1 year

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Betrayal? You know so much about it, don't you? (Daemon Targaryen)

"My lord, It has been a boy, they named him Aemond." The maester said, which led to her father rejoicing.

"Ahh yes, all enough to usurp the old cunt and then make one of them as King of the Seven Kingdoms!" Otto rejoiced, without seeing the lethal look he received from his second daughter

"Well father, I may leave to take care of the prince Aegon. He shall become a good King one day." replied the princess royal, the title which was gifted by Viserys on her 18th name day. "My daughter, he shall be!"

*****

"My appreciation for taking care and loving my step-niece, Laenor." Leanora Hightower showed empathy to the boy who was forced to push away his feelings and marry a woman. "Tis I should be apologizing, princess. I have thought bad of your name."

"You are right. My father is a cunt and my sister is desperate to make her drunk son king. What shall I do?"

"You are the daughter of the hand? Don't you want your bloodline on the Iron Throne?"

"No, I don't want to risk my children's life to make them princes or kings. They shall be lords and noblemen." Leanora replied, making Laenor gawk at her, he had never seen a kind Hightower

"Aemond shall be a great warrior one day, he has the talent to be." Alicent joined in on the conversation with Laenor. Leanora was truly happy that Alicent was finally noticing her second son and not Aegon.

"He really does"

"I agree"

"Well, my Queen and my Prince, I shall go back to Rhaenyra and comfort her for the loss of her best friend" Leanora felt bitter saying that, as she was the one true friend the Princess of Dragonstone had. She had never acknowledged her after her sister's marriage to her father.

'Princess, I am very sorry for your loss, I shall pray for Laena's soul, she was a good woman. She will always be remembered"

"I'm sorry, what shall I address you again? Princess or Princess Royal?" Rhaenyra asked, mockery lingering in her tone telling her that she did not deserve that title, she did not even look at Leanora, her gaze was just on Daemon Targaryen. Leanora scoffed internally, the princess held too much pride to even talk to her. Let alone being smitten with a man who had just lost his wife.

"Princess Royal," that was all said by Leanora before she knew what she had to do. Daemon Targaryen was Laena Velaryon's husband, she knew that the princess Rhaenyra was in love with him when she was of age

"My condolences on the loss of your wife, Prince Daemon," said Leanora, Daemon heard the 'sincerity' in her voice

"She died the death of a Dragon rider, and for that she wanted me to be grateful." Daemon replied, making Leanora honestly fell bad for him, he was rejected in the name of a hand and was replaced with a cunt of a man, she felt bad for that. "Did your sister send you?"

"No, why would she send me to speak with you. I know that she does not support your actions, but she is not the kind of person to use weakness against her opponent, Daemon."

"Tis you know about your sister that much, hmm?" Daemon chuckled, making Leanora confused.

"Hightowers love to have power, don't you? Are you trying to seduce me, Leanora Hightower?" Daemon had already pulled Dark Sister with one hand and was gripping her bodice with another. He was aiming Dark Sister right at her chest, if she moved closer, the sword would be cutting her skin.

"Is it working, Daemon Targaryen," the moment she said that, Daemon's grip on her waist tightened and blood was pouring from her chest, the sword hadn't reached her heart but was only piercing on her skin, making her moan in pain.

"Is this because of Rhaenyra, are you afraid that she'll marry me?"

"You wish, my dragon can burn anyone into a crisp." Daemon chuckled "Dragon? What dragon?"

"You did not know?"

"what are you referring to?" Daemon asked "I am not a Hightower, my prince. I am the bastard daughter of your brother, my hair is hidden by the maester's dye."

"You're- You're older than Rhaenyra?" Daemon stuttered, it was his destiny to end up with a niece.

"Yes, but I have no interest for a crown"

"Listen, you are a Hightower, a house lower than Targaryens. I shall marry you and take you as my slave, nothing else."

"I am a princess royal, the title was given to me by my father I am not a slave to be bought" the words were no true, if Daemon had asked to marry her, she would be delighted. The words were given large spaces as Daemon had already started to kiss her neck.

"I shall not marry you."

Taking your silence as confirmation, his smirk widened, "I could simply reach out and take what I wanted, but I like to think of myself as a somewhat honorable man. So I'll give you a choice."

Daemon held out his leather gloved hand to you, his fingertips nearly brushing the front of your gown he was so close now. "Make it easy and come with me now, or run and take your chances in the forest. If you can escape me, you have my word I'll let you go. But," Suddenly those fingertips were hooked in the neck of your gown, jerking you up against his chest and reminding you of his superior height now that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze, filled with wicked intent. His fingers slid lower, sliding between your breasts and resting against your skin as he inclined his head towards you, "If I catch you, I will not be gentle, dārilaros."

Dārilaros. Princess. His accented High Valyrian made your thighs clench. Or maybe it was his fingers rubbing soft circles against your skin. Your gown still clutched in his fist, refusing to let you stray so much as an inch away.

"I'm not a princess." You breathed, your only defense sounded as useless in your ears as you knew it was.

"Had your father given me what I asked for that night at my brother's wedding, you would be my princess already." The sudden darkness in his tone sent a shiver across your skin, but he didn't give you time to think any further, "Now make your choice before I make it for you."

"Then release me, Daemon. I have a new life to begin now that you have taken a torch to my old one." There was a part of you that could have happily taken his hand. With his scent in your lungs and feeling every inch of his body pressed against you it might have even been easy.

But you craved surrender no more than gentleness.

You expected to see a flash of anger in his eyes. Perhaps disappointment. Instead he radiated satisfaction. Like you'd woken a sleeping beast he was tired of keeping contained. He released you, pushing you back a step into the trees. "Run."

So you had.

It felt like hours had passed. You knew it wouldn't be long before you reached the creek. You could follow it to the break in the trees and then into the hills. You knew the land better than Daemon. Surely it gave you the upper hand.

Every sound had nearly made you jump out of your skin. Every shadow making you sure he was closing in. Your mind playing tricks on you in the darkness.

You told yourself that lie about having an advantage a dozen more times as your muscles grew sore, but you could make out the familiar path you'd traveled before in the distance. Just a little bit further and -

A pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you off your feet and spinning you around so quickly the world blurred until you found yourself pressed up against the rough bark of a tree trunk. Daemon's warm body pinning you there. Your gasp of surprise lost in his grunt of satisfaction. One hand snatching your wrist and pulling your arm behind your back. He leaned in close, his breath tickling tendrils of your hair by your ear as his fingers twisted through the strands, pulling hard enough to make you gasp again, "I did warn you that I would not be gentle."

Despite your lungs burning for oxygen you managed a breathless smile. You turned your head as much as his grip would allow, "Why do you think I ran?"

You saw only a flash of that same darkly satisfied smile before he spun you around again, releasing your wrist but keeping his grip in your hair. Your back now against the tree as his mouth depended on yours in a rough, demanding kiss. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip to elicit another gasp before his tongue was invading your mouth. Claiming every inch for himself as his other hand settled on your hip. You could feel the curve of his lips as you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him closer still.

Still feeling the spot on your lip that he'd bitten...wondering what his mark would look like in your skin. How it would feel.

"I'm going to make you mine," He promised against your lips, his hands slipping from your hip and hair to seize the front of your gown again. Only this time he tore the rich fabric straight down the middle, ripping at the fabric without ever breaking the kiss. Those gloved hands that had just claimed dozens of lives were ripping away the remains of the fabric, leaving a trail of heat across your skin.

You reluctantly unwound your arms from his neck and instead grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling impatiently at until he raised his arms and helped you, tossing it aside to the grass without a second thought.

When your dress lay in tatters at your feet he pushed you back when you tried to kiss him again. His hand wrapping around your throat and keeping you pinned to the tree trunk as he took a small step back. Chuckling at your huff of annoyance, "Patience, my little qēlos. I didn't go through all the trouble of ripping it off not to admire what lies beneath."

You felt a rush of heat across your skin at the way he studied you. His entire gaze focused on you and sweeping over every inch of your body. A sort of marvel in his eyes like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Naked hunger blazing in his emerald colored eyes.

"What does that mean?" You breathed out, one hand resting over his. Trying to distract yourself from the cool night air nipping at your bare skin and the growing ache between your thighs waiting for him. Your study of the dead language was not nearly as robust as his.

"Star," He answered, his other hand working to undo his pants as he tilted your head up with his grip around your throat, "My light in the night sky that led me exactly where I wanted."

It was your turn to study him without the barrier of his clothes. Just as his had, your gaze dropped to take in his muscular form. His peerless skin only disturbed by a collection of faded scars. His victories tangible in his flesh.

He slowly stroked his hard cock, clearly enjoying leaving you tongue tied so easily. When your eyes found his in the darkness again, he flashed you another dark half-smile, "I've been dreaming of your cunt since the night we met; don't keep me waiting any longer."

You weren't sure you could even if you wanted to.

You moved your hands to his hips, urging him closer. Spreading your legs wider when his foot urged yours further apart. Letting out a sharp breath as he ran the head of his cock along your wet slit. A stark reminder of the need that had been building since you saw him in the garden.

Since you saw him at the wedding.

Since every letter he'd sent you since promising to make you his no matter who stood in his way. No matter how many villages he had to burn to the ground to have you.

Since the last one when he'd told you when he gave you a choice, he wanted you to run.

Daemon's hand tightened around your throat as he pressed through your spongy walls, groaning with you at how tight he felt there. For just a moment he paused, looking to you. You nodded. No hesitation.

With one sharp thrust he was buried in your depths. Making you gasp at the mixture off pain and pleasure. Need exploding through your entire body. You sunk your nails into his skin, feeling the roughness of the tree behind your back as his his ground into yours.

His hand slid around from your throat to twist in your hair, cranking your head to the side as his thrusts grew faster. More brutal, claiming you all over again. Your hands moved up his back, letting your nails strike along his warm skin as you pulled him closer.

He dipped his head down and began kissing along your neck. His warm breath ghosting against your skin. His tongue ran over your pulse point. He groaned again, lips moving against your flesh like he couldn't bring himself to pull away, "You taste sinful."

He was sin.

"Mark me," You begged breathlessly, rolling your hips into his. Desperate for more. For him. Ever since he'd bitten your lip you craved that same spike of pleasure again. You wanted to be his. You wanted everyone to know you were his.

His hand slid between your bodies, palm flattening against your stomach, the rough pad of his thumb finding your clit as if he already knew your body like the back of his hand. You could feel his cock jerk with need in your depths, gasping as his cock rammed into your g-spot. You were so close to release.

"Beg me again my desperate little slut, and I'll give you whatever you want." His fingers tugged harder at your hair. His words suggesting he held all the power, but his demand was just as much a plea.

Ignoring the sting of pain, you turned your head, locking on to his gaze, "Please, Daemon." Your moaned out, barely capable of speech. God his name tasted so good on your lips. After weeks of seeing it written at the bottom of his letters you didn't think it could get better. But a piece of paper and ink couldn't show you the dark blaze of possessiveness burning in his eyes.

"Hold still." He jerked your head to the side again, his teeth sinking into that sensitive spot his tongue had touched. You cried out at the flash of pain, at the pressure of his thumb against your clit, tracing rough circles against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

"Not yet."

His demanding growl left you disoriented. You could feel your muscles tightened like a coiled spring. That flash of pain almost pulling you into oblivion.

In the blink of an eye he had withdrawn from your core, ignoring your confused whine. He pulled you to the soft earth beneath you, hovering over you. Caging you beneath him, pressing you into the dirt.

There weren't words to describe how he looked towering over you in the moonlight, that wild hunger etched into every line of his face.

In one harsh thrust he was inside you again, both your moans lost in the stillness of the night. He seized your wrists, slamming them down on either side of your head, holding them there more securely than chains ever could have.

You wrapped your legs around him, savoring every second, feeling your body build towards your peak once again. Shivering at the feeling of your sweat running over the mark he'd left on your neck.

You came together. The world shattering around you into a tidal wave of bliss. You screamed at the overwhelming pleasure. You committed the sound of his moans to memory, wanting to replay them again and again.

Daemon fucked you through every second of the high. Your bodies pressed together. Your thighs trembling around him. The sounds coming out of your own mouth were foreign to you. You watched him tip his head back, his eyes rolling backwards and you were sure you'd never seen anything as addictive as his pleasure.

In the aftermath he leaned into you, his forehead pressed against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. His hands still clutched tightly around your wrists, his cock still buried in your core.

Were you the devout lady your brother warned you to be, you'd be worried for your reputation. Instead you basked in the scent of sweat and sex and let your mind sink into the afterglow.

"Thoroughly fucked is a good look on you," Daemon murmured, eliciting a smile from you as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

Your eyes slipped closed as he shifted. You might have just drifted off then and there, but your body felt his absence like a physical ache. He moved again and you yelped in surprise as he suddenly flipped you on to your stomach, slapping his palm against your ass. Confusion taking over as he pulled your arms behind your back. You turned your head in time to see him bring the ruined fabric of your dress to his mouth, biting down and tearing off a piece. "What are you doing?"

Daemon was already busying himself with binding your wrists together, pausing only long enough to press his finger against his lips, shushing you.

When he was done he pulled you on to your knees. Behind you he pulled his pants back into place. He left the remains of your gown in the dirt, but grabbed his shirt to throw over your naked body. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. You didn't realize what it was until he bent and fastened the clasp around your neck.

A silver necklace with a dragon's claw pendant. Clutched between the claws was an opaline stone, the same color as the stars above you that he'd compared you to.

"Consider it a wedding gift." He kissed the top of your head before pulling you to your feet. Before you could ask again, he bent and tossed you over his shoulder, his arm looped tightly across your thighs to keep you in place.

"And what should I consider this?" You asked, giggling. You could feel his smirk as he began walking in the direction of the manor.

"Enjoying The Revenge to Rhaenyra"

𝕸𝖞 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞/𝖔𝖓𝖊-𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

(Plus, I can make this a series but only if I get 100 likes and reposts)

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #hightowers #targaryens #house targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen

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