#daemon x poc fem!reader

[lady-phasma]

A willing pawn

Daemon Targaryen x fem! Dornish!reader

A huge thank you to @zaldritzosrose for this amazing board. You read my mind and I don't know how you did it! An equal thank you to @black-dread for providing the missing puzzle piece to make this fic work.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, hurt/comfort if you squint, little bit of size kink, use of an infantilizing pet name (because Uncle Daddy Daemon), flimsy plot, creampie (and I truly did not plan what was going to happen there, Daemon just does whatever he wants in my brain, cheeky bastard)

Summary: You had a mission in the Stepstones, but he wasn’t as fearsome, this prince, as you had been led to believe. I’m not sure about my soft!Daemon but here he is. 4k words

The encampment was dark, lit only by dying fires. This night had been chosen because it would be moonless. Your soft-soled shoes were silent on the rocky earth as you crept between tents. You had planned your path at sunset, marking in your memory where the prince’s tent stood. As the orange light had faded from the sky, your stomach had begun to knot and twist with anxiety.

Could you really follow through with this? You knew you were able but were you capable of such a thing. The circumstances didn’t offer you any choice in the matter. Prince Qoren Martell wanted to avoid the costs of war, in gold and lives. His war counsel thought of every possible measure they could take to win this war, including involving House Yronwood. You were a cog in a larger plan and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You ducked around another tent and tiptoed to the edge of the large royal tent. This is as far as you had gotten in your strategy. From this point forward you could only hope for luck, as stealth wouldn’t matter when faced with the prince’s guards. You were sent here with the barest of plans and what little plan there was, was foolish. You listened for movement inside the tent and heard none. As you neared the front you expected a half-dozen guards but saw only two. You held your breath.

You couldn’t walk right up to the tent and demand to be let in. Sneaking in seemed to be impossible, but if you could, what next. Your heart pounded in your ears. Godsdamn it, you thought. You let out a shaky breath and slunk back into the shadows. When you turned around you almost walked face-first into a giant wall of armor.

The guard almost threw you into the tent but did not relinquish his grip on your elbow. You grunted and jerked your arm away from him as you stumbled into the large room. You caught your balance and stood up straight. The ground was covered in rugs. A table laden with maps and documents stood in the center. Next to it sat the Prince.

“We found this creeping about outside, your highness,” the guard grumbled.

Prince Daemon lounged in his chair, legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. He was peeling a pear, paused mid-knife-stroke, and looked up from under his brows. They raised slightly, seemingly amused, but he didn’t bother to lift his head. He resumed his peeling.

“Leave us,” he commanded without looking up. You heard the guard’s armor as he left but didn’t take your eyes from the prince.

“What terrible deed have you been sent to do child?” He didn’t look at you, only sliced a bit of pear and popped it in his mouth. When you didn’t respond he brushed aside papers to make space on the table and laid down the knife and pear. He wiped his hands on a napkin, dropped it next to them, and stood up. Finally, he looked at you. He finished chewing, swallowed, and wiped one corner of his mouth with his thumb.

He strode toward you, sucking the pear juice off his thumb and assessing you. Much of your face was covered by your hood, stay strands of dark hair were visible but your features were cast in shadow. He dipped his head slightly and looked closely, standing only a few paces in front of you. His silver hair swung loose from his shoulder. The violet of his eyes was unnerving. You squared your shoulders.

“I am no child,” you replied, leaving off the honorific. He was no prince of yours.

“Is that so?” Daemon reached for your hood and flicked it back from your head. The only hint of surprise he allowed to show was a brief widening of his eyes. You were well aware the effect your father’s blue eyes had when set against the sienna skin you got from your mother. You narrowed your icy eyes at him.

“I’m gown enough to make it this far into your camp, am I not?” Daemon chuckled and flipped his hair back over his shoulder. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at you.

“I suppose so… but you did get caught, little one.”

Your cheeks flamed and you wanted to strike him but the smile on his face caught you off guard. Had he just winked at you? You were too frustrated to think and that wink made your blood boil. This was not going at all how you had expected when the guard snatched you up. Daemon didn’t so much as blink when you moved your hands from inside your cloak to push your hood back further. He was amused with you. The handle of your dagger glinted in the candlelight and caught his eye.

“So you were sent here to assassinate me?” He smiled that infernal smile. “Would you say it is going well?”

“Time will tell,” you answered through gritted teeth. Then he laughed at you, actually laughed. You clenched your hands into fists at your sides.

He took a step toward you and you tensed. You hadn’t the faintest idea what this man would do. You had only heard the rumors and propaganda in Dorne. When he reached out, you tried to take a step back from him.

“Uh-uh,” he commanded quietly. Then his hand dipped into your cloak and before you could move to stop him, he snatched your dagger out of your belt. He spun it lazily around, watching it dance in the light.

“This might have done the trick,” he spoke to the blade, not to you. “But I imagine someone with more experience should have been entrusted with it.” His eyes flicked back to your face. “Though, perhaps there were none as fierce as you.”

With absolutely no thought in your mind, you lunged forward and tried to grab the weapon from him. He deftly moved it out of your reach and grabbed your wrist with his other hand.

“As I said: fierce,” he quipped. You tugged your arm against his grasp to no avail.

“But I must!” You almost snarled at him. His expression wasn’t surprise but interest. He let you go and turned to lay your weapon on the table. When he faced you again a small smile was set on his mouth.

“Must you?” He raised an eyebrow. “If a child assassin has been sent to slay me, Dorne must be desperate indeed.”

“I am not a child! I am a woman grown, of 20 years!” You had no idea why this infuriated you but the prince knew that it did. He grinned again.

“Pardon me, my Lady. I should have said a ‘small’ assassin,” he mocked you. It was somehow kind. You were taken aback by his jest, by his demeanor. You hadn’t taken the time to pause and evaluate Prince Daemon. You had only been concerned with the ramifications of your failure.

Now that you looked, you saw a man not much older than yourself. A man who moved with experience in battle, with an ease not unlike your own. Graceful, even. Then he did the most unexpected thing. He extended his hand, offering you to sit in the chair opposite his. You had come here to threaten his life and now he was treating you like a guest! You gawped.

Before you could decide what to make of the situation, Daemon slid down into his chair and stretched his legs out again, completely unwary of you. He glanced at you one more time as he reached for his unfinished pear. You were too shocked to do anything other than sit. You closed your mouth and sat down across from him. You slipped your cloak off of your shoulders as you sat. Your common clothes weren’t uncomfortable but you weren’t used to them. You tried to adjust them as you sat but instantly became more frustrated. Daemon’s eyes on you didn’t help to easy your new-found insecurity. You were meant to have been unseen.

“Who sent you?” The blunt nature of his question startled you.

“And why should I tell you?” you retorted. You were behaving as if you were at home entertaining men you had grown up with. This was madness.

“I believe I am owed an explanation as it was my life you were planning to take. Also, what else is there to do?” He popped a slice of pear in his mouth. His eyes didn’t leave yours. “Let’s start with your name, shall we?”

You hesitated, but he was right: what else was there to do. You could sit in silence until he decided to have you executed. You could try to run from the tent only to be caught and executed sooner. So you told him your name and your house name.

“Very good,” he tossed the knife and pear back on the table. “What did Martell threaten? What predicament did he put you in?”

Your eyes widened. Was Prince Martell’s reputation so tainted, so sullied, outside Dorne?

“Not him,” you spoke quietly. “Though I suppose, ultimately, he knows. We are not a political house but we have wealth that is necessary for Dorne to succeed.” Your eyes flicked down from his at the last word. You weren’t sure why but you felt ashamed for being in this position, had all along if you thought about it.

“So if not the prince himself…” Daemon paused, waiting for your answer.

“His war counsel,” you replied. “They have many strategies in play, I’m sure, but one is to ‘motivate’ certain houses to bring the war to an early end. I have no knowledge of the other plans. I only know that my father was threatened. Whatever that threat was, it was powerful enough for him to send his youngest daughter to the Stepstones.”

There it was. You had spilled it out to the enemy in a gush and felt like vomiting or crying or fleeing. You looked up from your lap. Daemon was studying you. Once again he surprised you. Perhaps you expected him to mock you but the kindness on his face somehow made your situation more real. You bit your lip to stop the tears. You would not cry. You were angry and frightened and when the prince had called you a child it made those feelings more real.

“What choice did you have?” He sounded almost compassionate. This couldn’t be the petty tyrant you were warned against, who would rape, or torture, or kill you if you were caught. “You came all this way on an errand not of your choosing and meant to go through with it. That’s more than a little honorable, don’t you agree?”

You had no idea. You were confused and overwhelmed and angry. You had never been a zealot, but you had been more sure of your mission when the target was evil or cruel. Perhaps he was at times, but not now.

“I suppose so,” you muttered, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Well what do I do with you now?” He leaned forward in his chair. “I can’t set you free. Yet I don’t want another prisoner. And you don’t want to return home as a failure. I can see that. I could keep you as a hostage and demand gold for your safe return. Would that keep your honor intact?”

You blushed, not just from his nearness but from the fact that he could see your thoughts so clearly on your face. You and your family would be dishonored if you returned unsuccessful. It would also be unfavorable to the prince to appear compassionate to would-be assassins.

“It would,” you answered. “But I do not think the ransom would be paid.”

“No? Not for a young woman as fierce and cunning as yourself? Not for someone so precious?”

Your eyes flicked up to his at this curious word. You watched him, suspicious, as he slid out of his chair and knelt in front of you.

“I think you’re quite frightened of either choice: being sent home or being held here. I don’t want you to be frightened. Maybe the Crone had a purpose for bringing you here.”

You felt your breath catch. He looked so sincere. He was intoxicating but you believed him. You didn’t want to feel relief at the prospect of no longer sneaking, hiding, being a stowaway, but you did. Almost instantly, you imagined a hot bath, a dress and not these rags, and food that wasn’t brown. Then something else flashed in your mind and the heat returned to your face.

Daemon slowly reached out to you and stroked the side of your face. He skimmed a lock of your hair with his fingers, watching it catch the light. Its deep brown shown with hints of gold. You studied him closely. When he turned his gaze back to you, your heart pounded in your chest. His eyes searched yours as he cupped your cheek in his palm.

“Gevie,” he whispered. You thought it was High Valyrian but you weren’t sure. Your lips parted almost involuntarily as you looked up at him. He leaned toward you, silver hair cascading off his shoulders. You felt his lips on yours and closed your eyes.

His hand holding your face felt safe. His lips were warm and tasted of pear. You dared not move. You were overwhelmed and confused. However, there twisted in your belly some need, some desire for him. Your chest ached with the delicious feeling of being safe. You didn’t question how this was possible so far away from home and with your “enemy” no less. So you kissed him back.

Daemon slid his other hand to frame your face. His kiss wasn’t rough, but it was deep. You had kissed men before, you were experienced in the most basic of ways. You realized now that all the men before had not kissed you, they didn’t see you. They saw a Yronwood daughter or practice for their marriage beds. You had made those choices willingly. You weren’t concerned with being married for political reasons and had enjoyed your freedom. Until now. In this moment, you felt… precious.

Tentatively, you raised a hand to him, your fingertips grazed his jaw and neck, and came to rest on his chest. He slid his hands from your cheeks as he broke the kiss. As if waiting for your permission, Daemon rested his hands on your upper arms. You kissed him in answer. His arms swept around you and scooped you up as he stood. Your head spun but you steadied yourself by putting your hands on the back of his neck.

Daemon sat you on his bed and smoothed your hair back from your face. He stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head. He dropped it on the floor as he leaned down to kiss you. You made room for him on the bed, drawing him toward you with your kisses. He knelt between your legs, kissed your neck, and slid a hand under your shirt. You arched your back, pressing into his palm.

He brushed the underside of your breasts with the tips of his fingers and his other hand glided up your ribs. He pushed your shirt up above your breasts, fixated on your hardened nipples. His hair slid over your chest as he took one nipple in his mouth. He propped himself up on one hand and cupped your breast with the other. You moaned and writhed under him. You instinctively ran your fingers through his hair and held him against you. Daemon groaned and the sound vibrated from your chest to your core. When he pulled away you realized you had been grinding against his leg and flushed. He smiled down at you.

Wordlessly, he guided you to raise your arms so he could remove your shirt. Then he began to unlace your breeches. You watched his muscles move as he slid your pants off. You lifted your hips and giggled a little when you plopped back down on the bed as he tugged them off your legs. You weren’t shy but the action was awkward and you were quite exposed now. He tossed the breeches on the floor and smoothed a hand up your thigh. He stared, rapt, at the dark hair between your legs, so different from the silver of his own.

You bit your lip as you looked from his face, down his chest, and to the evidence of his arousal. His breeches looked uncomfortably tight now. His hands absently stroked your legs and your lower belly but paused as you sat up. You held him between your legs. When you kissed his stomach he hissed in air through his teeth. Your hands grazed over his hips and to the laces in the front of his pants. You let your fingertips glide over the shape of his erection before undoing the knot. You kissed seemingly every inch of his stomach then looked up at him as your hand dipped inside. His face was curtained by his hair as he looked down at you. You smiled as you stroked him.

Daemon moved his hands from your legs, smoothed over your hair, and then gently pressed your shoulders back. You laid down, already missing the feeling of him in your hands, but the sight of him between your legs was almost as pleasant. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead gently, then your lips, and pressed his forehead against yours.

You gasped as his fingers slid between the lips of your cunt. He licked his lips and continued to explore your wetness. Stroking, searching, learning. He circled your opening, your clit, and back again. One finger slid in easily and he grinned. You lifted your mouth to his as you lifted your hips to his hand. He slid in a second finger.

“You are so tight, little one,” he grinned down at you. You rocked your hips against his hand and moaned in reply. You placed one hand on his arm, pulling him deeper into you. With the other you smoothed his hair behind his ear and trailed your fingers down his jaw. You drug your fingertips over his lips. His eyes were dark as he watched you pleasure yourself on his hand.

“More, Daemon, please,” you moaned, saying his name for the first time. Hearing his name come from your lips pleased him immensely.

“Say it again,” he breathed as he curled his fingers inside you.

“Daemon, please.”

Slowly and with a tinge of disappointment on his face, he pulled his fingers from you. He was enjoying the sight of you but couldn’t wait any longer. He freed his cock from his breeches. Then he slid his hands up your thighs to your lower back. As he sat back he guided you onto his lap. The transition was clumsy at first, legs bumping and twisting. You both smiled as you held onto his shoulders. When you knelt over him you rubbed your clit against his cock. You rested your lips against his forehead as you rocked your lips. You moved your mouth nearer to his ear and murmured his name.

Daemon lifted your ass and placed you above his cock. With one hand between you, he guided himself into you. You sank down onto him slowly, watching his face. He clenched his jaw tight. You felt his hand move back to your ass. He let you set the pace, let you move against him. You pulled up and then sank down again, taking all of him. The moan that came from your lips was lewd and deep. You clutched at his neck, the back of his head, fingers entwined in his hair. He groaned but did not move to meet your hips. You rocked back, then forward, finding your rhythm.

He kissed your chest and breasts. His hands stroked your ass and lower back, constantly moving. You leaned forward slightly and pressed yourself against him. At this angle he wasn’t as deep in you, but you found friction against his stomach. You ground your hips into him, almost, but not quite able to get what you needed.

“Seven hells,” he panted against you. His hips had begun to move in time with yours. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair and you tried to find that much-needed angle again. When he realized what you needed he slid a hand between you. You threw your head back as his fingers circled your clit. You sped up, fucking him hard. He kept pace with you, circling and pressing his fingers against you. You couldn’t keep a steady rhythm. You felt him brace your lower back with his hand and pull you closer to him, steadying you, supporting you. You felt your climax tug at your core and sank further onto his cock with each stroke.

“Come for me,” Daemon whispered into your neck. You did. You cried his name, clinched your fists in his hair, and buried your face against his head. You sank all the way down onto him, thighs resting on his as you shook. Your cunt spasmed around his cock but he didn’t stop moving his fingers. He pressed into you with his hips, rocking under you, and bringing forth tiny gasps from you. You lips found his and you panted into his mouth. Tiny sounds mingled with his name flew out of your mouth with every movement of his fingers.

When you thought the overstimulation might be too much he moved his hand from between you. He slid his hand under your arm and pulled you down onto him by your shoulder. A new wave of pleasure crashed into you as he spilled into you. His hips stilled, holding his cock deep inside you. He came panting and moaning your name.

You wanted to sink all of your weight onto him. It took too much effort to support yourself on your aching knees. Neither of you wanted to move yet, though both of you needed to. You released your hands from his hair. You kissed him and smoothed his hair back from his face.

You smiled at him as you rose shakily from his lap. He helped you as much as he could, but your legs were numb and your head was empty. You all but fell back onto the pillows. He watched you grind your hips against the air as the last of your climax left you. His eyes were locked on his seed sliding out of you. He leaned forward, his legs shaking as well. You watched him through half-closed eyes and settled yourself on the bed. His fingers slid through his cum and you twitched as he grazed your throbbing clit. He looked into your blue eyes as he gathered more of it on his fingers. You smiled seductively as he leaned over you and raised his fingers to your lips.

You opened your mouth, your eyes never leaving his, and he painted your tongue with his seed. You closed your lips around his fingers and let him feel you swallow. He slid his fingers out and surprised you by kissing you deeply, tasting himself in your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist. You playfully pulled his weight on top of you. He let you but also guided you both to lay on your sides. Your legs intertwined and you were a tangle of limbs for a moment. Then you buried your face into his chest and breathed in deeply. You sighed as he smoothed your hair and rested his chin on the top of your head. You were quite small in his arms. Daemon breathed deeply as he stroked down your back, your buttocks, and up again. You curled against him, one hand between you, the other resting on his hip.

“I have you now, little one,” he murmured against the top of your head.

Masterlist

[themotherofblood]

Hey dear! I saw that you are accepting requests and would like to know if I can get an imagine nsfw with Daemon x poc fem! reader (may be Dornish) who was a dancer before marrying him, but she still has the activity as a hobby and one night when she misses dinner, worried Daem goes after her and finds her dancing, please?( feel free to ignore and sorry for my english)

I absolutely love this ask, however there will only be a small implementation of culture.

ghugroo~ an anklet made of gold bells and a red cloth, worn to dance classical south Asian styles.

masterlist | Part 2

smut, softie daemon (oral f) voyuerism-ish, tw: mentions of prostitution, purity culture and Otto Hightower

Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Reader

The floor of the Mirrored Place was cold under your bare feet, the entire palace was dim; other than a few candles that reflected light from one mirror to the other. Leaving the barren hall with a warm glow. There used to be much light in this hall before; when your mother and you danced. The entire Dornish court would gather to enjoy in the art your had inherited from her.

She was a Lysenese courtesan, thought to please men with her dancing from a young age. Her will to dance was different, not because it earned her a coin but she found solace in the sound of the music playing for her body to move on her own terms.

You were raised within the group of these courtesans, a sister hood that protected you at all costs. The reason you learned to dance was for the sheer entertainment of the other sisters, and an unshaken will to mirror everything your mother did. However everyone of them knew your fate since the day you learned to walk, you too would inherit the title of court dancer at the ripe age of five and ten. They protected you still, keeping you hidden in the back of the numbers performed.

Then came along Qoren Martell, on his many ventured to Essos and a budding relationship with the Triarchy, he had found your mother dancing for the Lys court; he had eyes for her and only her after that. The deal may have not been affluential and yet he returned home with your mother and a sister for his daughter Aliandra.

The court at Sunspear was different, mother only danced for familial festivals and taught various girls at court to dance for her joy. No one quite picked it up like you did. Qoren had an entire place made for her, the interior made completely of mirrors for her to dance in.

She passed ten summers before.

You danced for her memory, not on familial events or as a courtesan, Qoren would have anyone’s head if they even mentioned the possibility to you, as far as he cared you were his daughter. Blood or not. You danced in the secrecy of this abandoned palace, alone where only the walls could hear the jangles of your mother’s given ghungroos

That brought you today, and what ails your troubles.

Your marriage to prince Daemon Targaryen wasn’t one of secret, Daemon was sent as envoy from King’s Landing, hoping to settle the issue in the Stepstones. Again, the deal wasn’t particularly affluential, yet the Targaryen prince gained a wife. You.

It was a quaint Valyrian traditional wedding, one with your approval.

You’d fallen for the prince, and what was Qoren to do? Tell his beloved flower no? No she couldn’t have the dragon prince that wanted her just as much.

A royal wedding without the approval of king or his court was a dangerous affair, hence both you and Daemon remained at Old Palce, awaiting news. Whether you’d be presented or court or if Daemon was to whisk you away on his dragon to Pentos.

Daemon only grunted and groaned when you asked who would oppose what the dragon prince wanted

“Otto Hightower.”

Daemon’s words came true like a dying wish, a raven did indeed arrive from king’s landing that Qoren showed you first.

Vile words were used against you, as the king’s hand gathered information of your parentage and the two years you had worked as a court dancer with your mother.

Not that they were lies; you were a bastard, not even a Sand. Yet Qoren had fought tooth and nail to title you and your mother as princesses. Moreover they questioned your purity and how it would muddle the pure Targaryen blood Daemon seems to possess, concerns of what influence I might impose on his daughter by his late lady wife Laena. You grimaced at the thought of even teaching those young girls what the court at king’s landing insinuated. They weren’t wrong in their concerns, and here you hadn’t even told him you danced let alone that you were a courtesan.

Qoren believed that if he could have wed your mother while begin the head of the Martell family, what is a mere second son who cannot accept the apple of Qoren’s eyes. You had left the matter at that, hoping to just let it drown behind your thoughts.

Daemon wouldn’t shun you for this…would he?

The family had gathered for supper, rather large sum of Sand sisters and Aliandra along with your husband and your step daughters. Qoren frowned at your empty seat though he knew exactly where you would have gone after reading that letter.

You’d bent down to ties the ribbons securely against your ankles, the gold ghungroos held weight to them, yet for you moving them was as fluid as a swan. You tapped your feet twice, feeling the tightness of them before exhaling a ragged breath. You tucked the loose end of your shawl on the waist line of your skirts.

Your imagination did the work for you, hearing the beat of the percussion and flute in your head as you hummed the melody under your breath, rhythmic jangles of the bells on your ankles began to echo through the hall. You closed you eyes, picturing your mother dancing next to you. The smile on her face, finally dancing for her love of the art and not the perversions of men.

Your skirt flared out as your twirled, glimmering in the light of the candles, you kept dancing. Following every count in your head as you hands remembered the signs to make. The hard your feet tapped against the marble floors the louder the jangles echoed.

Your life wouldn’t be different if Daemon left you for knowing the truth, but you wondered if anyone would want you because of what you were forced to be. You moved around the room efffortlessly, you hips swaying at the imaginary sound of the strings.

You hadn’t realized your eyes watered until you flinched in fear, watching your husband leaning against the grand posts of the mirrored hall. You stopped, the twirl of your skirts coming to stop and pool around your legs.

His palms crashed together in an applause, a smile of admiration of his face. You noticed the parchment in his hands and he noticed you eyeing the message.

“Do you truly think I care if you were a courtesan?” He shook his head, moving towards you “You were a child.” He scoffed.

You blinked the tears of concern away, you couldn't help from a few others falling free too

“My mother found her prince in Qoren, I believed so had I in you and then this.” You felt vulnerable, “I would never expose your daughters to such vulgarity, that's why I never danced for them and I was pure on our wedding night; I swear it. I wou-” You rambled on, Daemon’s eyes softened as he held you face, he held moved his thumb atop your lip to shush you

“My love isn't so fickle that bloodless sheets would diminish its fire. You are mine, and I yours. I sweared it by fire and blood sweet girl.” He reassured you “That ought to mean something?”

“You would forsake your family for me?” You shook your head, unwanting of such loyalty.

“That cunt of hand is not my family, these are his words; not my brother’s” He sounded irked at the parchment. “I will present you to the court as a good and honourable princess of Dorne, if anyone has objections they may rely on it to Dark Sister.”

You were left speechless, perhaps you had found the right prince after all. You tried to make words form at the tip of your tongue and yet nothing came through

“And as for you dancing,” His voice lowered “You ought dance for your lord husband more often.”

You swatted his shoulder before throwing yourself at him, you nuzzled your face at the crook of his neck. He moved her head, letting his lips capture yours, moulding them and taking charge; exploring your mouth with his tongue. He had been so heated about it you had to pull away to breathe

“Caught me a little dancer.” He whispered, bending down to lift your over his shoulder

“Daemon!” You shrieked “What are you doing!”

“Admiring the art.”

He plopped you down onto the viewing nest, a collection of heavy comforters a pillows that were laid at the edges of the halls for people to lounge.

“We can’t- what if somebody catches us?” You argued as he adamantly began to to strip you like a child pawing at his present.

“Then they will find a prince worshipping his princess.” He said in annoyance, huffing at all the ties on your blouse. He then reached for his inner pockets and threw a key your way.

You sighed in relief, the doors to the palace were locked.

“So fucking beautiful,” He groaned as you breasts spilt free of it entrapment, he immediately latched on the pebbled flesh, suckling on one as her tweaked the other. You chest heaved, feeling his warm mouth assault your breasts. He unlatched himself before paying attention the the other.

“My pretty little wife.” He breathed out, pushing your skirts up and yanking the cotton leggings underneath off your legs. He leaned back onto his legs admiring your cunt, he let a glob of spit dribble onto your folds as his fingers smeared them all over.

One hand working on the eager bundle of nerves and the others scissored at you insides, that familiar warmth of pleasure began to spread through your body as whimpered from your husband. You ghungroo’s jangling as you spread your legs further. Daemon latched himself onto your bud, frantically licking at the little things. You shrieked out his name, feeling him smirk as he took you apart on his mouth.

Just as you reached the precipice of your pleasure he pulled away. A shameless whine tore through you making Daemon chuckle, “All in sweet time princess, just getting you ready for me.” He idly rubbed circles on your rose bud

“Daemon just fuck me.” You groaned in frustration making your husband’s eyes.

“Such filthy words, sweet girl.” He taunted, nearly pushing your legs to your shoulders, even the little strums of the bells on your ankles were taunting you.

“Please, please Daemon,” you whined pleadingly as he ran the leaky tip of his cock through your folds. “I want you!”

“Good girl, begging for her husband’s cock.” He grunted as he bottomed out within you.

Barely allowing you a moment to adjusted before setting a determined pace in pounding you cunt.

You looked up at him as his long silver locks shielded your face, he leaned down to kiss your lips, biting at the bottom of your lip. The ghungroos on your ankle rhythmically jangled to the thrusting of your husband’s hips. He leaned back, throwing your legs on his shoulder as his pounding turned animalistic.

“My pretty little dancer, all mine.” He groaned

Drowning in your own pleasures your agreed in series of all yours- all yours pouring from your lips, nearly far too lost in the sensations radiating of your body. You reached your hands upwards, wanting him closer as your back arched off the ground. He wrapped his hands around you back, letting your legs hug around his lower back as he pounded you to your peak.

“Y/N- gods.” He breathed out in your ear as his cock spurted ropes of his seed in your cunt.

There was Moment of serene peace as Daemon pulled out of you and fell next to you, untill you felt his spend spilling down onto your skirts and you groaned.

“You ruined my skirt,” you pouted, grimacing at the stains

“I’ll buy you hundreds more.” He huffed out, yanking you on top of him.

Just as you helped each other straighten out, he spend a while tying the ties of your blouse, peppering kisses on your back as you undid the ghungroos, quite sure they would have bruises your ankles by now.

There was yet another topic lingering on Daemon’s tongue that he wasn’t sure how you would take

“Rhaena found out at supper that you dance, she could use a teacher…” He said hesitantly, you frowned.

“Just as you learned from your mother, our little dragons could use a lesson or two from their mother.”

You pondered and then looked to him using the word mother.

“Rhaena will make a gorgeous little dancer.”

[happilyhertale]

Daemon Targaryen

Shared future – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Sworn protector - Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

Sweet niece - Dark Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

Heir to the throne - Daemon Targaryen x niece!reader

Heated homecoming - Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

The lure of the inappropriate - Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

The Rogue Prince – Daemon Targaryen x poc!wife!reader

Revealing council meeting - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

A royal encounter - Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Oberyn Martell

Sinful desires – Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Aemond Targaryen

12 Days of Smuff

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey dear! firstly i would like to wish you a happy new year(it's a bit late i think but it's the intention that counts) second i would like to know if i could get a imagine Daemon x poc!fem reader where all her family died and she is head of her home, but has a young niece (the only survivor, after her) and Daemon wants to marry her, but Reader tells him no, as she has responsibilities to her niece. So Daemon approaches his niece and ends up conquering the girl and they kind of become "accomplices" to convince reader to marry him. Just fluff, kinda funny and Daemon being good with kids and reader agreeing to marry him in the end and them being a happy family, please? (feel free to ignore)

Sticky Fingers

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The alliance made perfect sense, Daemon, a prince, brutal, lethal, and absolutely unstoppable, teaming up with your niece, barely seven, tiny, clumsy, and absolutely unstoppable, to get you and him together.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, daemon girl dad vibes, fluff, girlboss!niece, typos, etc.

A/N: lol happy new year nonnie HAHAH i say as i type this on 22 jan 23 HAHAAAHH lololol. anyway, i have not written anything fluffy for daemon in a while soOOOOOO i hope to change that just a bit. I didn't get to write everything in the req,anon but its pretty cutie i think hihi. ALSO TO THAT OTHER NONNIE WHO SENT ME THAT ASK ABOUT WRITING FLUFF YOU CAN COME OUT NOW I GOT TIRED AND DIDNT MAKE THIS ANGSTY AT ALL HAHHAH Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

Daemon felt it the moment he made it out that dull gathering. He had a tail, a shadow, someone lurking behind him. He looks over his shoulder slowly, bringing his hands behind his back as he strides down the hall, toward the garden. He hums as he softens the sound of his walking, now absolutely certain there was a quick patter of feet behind him.

He was, in fact, being followed.

The prince then rapidly turns around, a spit second confused when he was faced with no one, but then turns down when he hears the loud and airy gasp.

A child. He knits his brows, allowing his hands to fall to his side. A child has been following him. He pulls his head back. Did he look... amicable to this little creature?

He bends a bit, raising his chin inquisitively, "who are you?"

She catches her breath from the startling she got, hands on her chest. She takes a moment before responding, lips pouting, "Sonya."

Daemon raises a brow. A vague answer, yet fitting, he thinks, for a child as tiny as she. "Why are you following me, little Sonya?"

She drops her hands, releasing a sigh, "I am not little, my lord."

He straightens up at the sound of that, face barely contorting into amusement, "tis not 'my lord', it is 'my prince'."

She purses her lips, then curtsies, "my prince."

Daemon's nostrils flare as he chuckles. He tents his hands in front of him. He shifts on his leg, "answer my question, not little Sonya."

Sonya's face scrunches. Her brows furrow, "are you not the man who likes my lady-auntie?"

His ears perk at that. He purses his lips, "you're her niece?"

"Well obviously! I said she's my lady-auntie."

Daemon raises a brow, chuckling dryly, "that doesn't answer why you are following me, girl."

"Well," she brings her hands together, "out of all the lords that like her, you're the only one that gave her sweeties," she says innocently, "so I want you to marry her."

Daemon laughs, turning away from the little girl, shaking his head in fully amusement. He leans back down, hands going to his knees, "that is because I not a lord, but a prince, child," he raises a finger and taps her nose, "and you are quite easily swayed."

Sonya pulls her head back at the prince's sentiment. She rubs her nose, face scrunched all angrily. It was truly adorable. She asserts, "do not do that again."

He straightens himself up as he chuckles under his breath, thumbs hanging on his belt, "of course. Apologies. I would not dare do such indecency to a lady again."

Sonya nods, bringing her hands to her sides, "well, now that I told you this... can you walk me back? I don't know where I am."

The prince's lips pull into a smile. He extends his hand out, "of course, my lady."

She takes his hand easily and they begin to walk off.

"If you're the prince," Sonya starts, "then that means..." she gasps, turning up to him, "you have a dragon egg!"

Daemon laughs, clutching his belly as he did so. "Even better," he turns to her, "I have a full sized dragon."

The girl's jaw drops and widens impossibly.

"SONYA!" I gasp the moment I see the tiny silhouette from afar, running towards the girl, who quickly then runs up to me

I fall to my knees when I embrace her, "oh you foolish child! I nearly died trying to look for you!"

"Worry not-"

I look up, finding a smirking man with long silver-blonde hair.

"-she was following after a man of high regard."

I am aghast by the idea. I turn from him to Sonya, eyes widening, "you were following the prince?!"

I clutch my niece's soft, round cheeks as she mutters, "I told him I wanted him to marry you."

"What?!"

Daemon snorts then releases high pitched chuckles. I shoot him an annoyed look. How dare he corrupt my sweet niece with such ideas? I should have rejected his proposal more harshly.

"He's the only one that bought you sweeties, auntie!" Sonya calls.

"Sonya-"

"They were your favorite too!" she grabs my wrists, "the other lords bought you things you don't even care for. And! They were mean to me! He held my hand while we walked here, auntie."

I pull my head back at the words of the child. My eyes dart to the man, looking all smug behind Sonya, pretending that he wasn't listening in on the conversation, even though he was holding back a shit-eating grin, "did he?"

The girl readily agreed, nodding quickly. She proceeds to whisper, "and we talked about dragons!"

I grunt. He undoubtedly took the girl's fascination of the beasts to his advantage.

I release a breath as I get to my feet. I take Sonya's hand as I step towards the prince. Daemon faux looks at the sky.

"Your highness."

Daemon turns, lips curving into a smile, "oh, my ladies."

It takes great effort for me not to roll my eyes at him, "I believe a show of gratitude is in order," I purse my lips, "thank you for bringing my Sonya back."

He exaggeratedly sighs, trying to hold back his grin, "all in a day's work, my dear. After all," he peers down at Sonya, "the children are the future."

I cannot withhold the incredulous scoff that leaves my mouth.

The man does not mind, and even ignores it, opting to get on one knee before my niece, "now, little shadow, remember what I told you on the way here."

I turn to my niece, who readily nods her head at his words.

"Sonya?" I call in concern, "what did you two talk about?"

Sonya turns to me just before the prince presses a finger to his lips. She follows suit, "it's a secret I share with the prince."

I narrow my eyes, jaw slacking in disbelief. I dirtily eye the said prince as I lean towards the girl, "and I am your auntie. I do not want there to be secrets between us, darling."

"Shhh," she shakes her head and closes her eyes, shushing me like all the times I, and her mother used to, a habit we got from our mother, Sonya's maternal grandmother, "it'll be alright, auntie."

My face falls in concern. Daemon is unable to hold back his giggles. He turns away, pressing a hand on his lips to contain his amusement.

I shoot him a glare as he clears his throat. He turns to Sonya, "very well, my lady." He rises to his feet, placing his hands in front of him, "I will see you soon then."

The child turn to him in excitement as I look at him, appalled, "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, I promised the child to introduce her to my dragon if she came back to me with high marks from her studies."

I scoff, teeth grinding, "you know well she does not study."

"Hmm," Daemon tilts his head at me, "would she not when she is under you care?"

I am taken aback by his sentiment.

He presses his lips as he slowly turns to Sonya. Daemon dramatically sighs, "ah, what are we to do? Unfortunately, it seems your auntie is not keen on allowing you meet Caraxes."

Uproar. Sonya bursts into loud emotions as she grabs into my skirt and whines, "Auntie! No! I must meet Caraxes! I must!"

"Sonya-"

"I promise to do all my studies, and all that you ask me to do like prince Daemon told me!"

I raise a brow. I take a moment to think, "anything, you say?"

Sonya readily shakes her head, "I promise to be a good girl. Just pleeeeaaaassse let me see his dragon!"

I turn to Daemon, who was already looking at me, absolutely pleased with himself, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side.

I blink slowly, releasing a sigh, "I will think about it."

Sonya squeals in excitement, releasing me in order to smother the prince's legs next. I am offended by how taken she was with him. I quip, "I said I'll think about it, child."

Daemon bends down, carrying the girl in his arms, releasing a happy sigh as he did so, "worry not, little shadow," he turns to me, "auntie will come around."

"My prince, why do you call me shadow. I'm not a shadow," Sonya pouts, grabbing his face, forcing him to turn to her, "I'm a girl."

Daemon's nostrils flare, "my apologies," he places his free hand onto his chest, "little girl."

"I'm not little!"

"Of course, of course, my mistake."

[marthawrites]

Sand and Sky

Daemon Targaryen x POC fem reader

Word Count: 1.8k+

About: Upon arriving to King's Landing with your cousin, Criston Cole, you meet Daemon Targaryen. Little time passes before desire of the flesh overtake both of you.

Includes: SMUT. This is just porn. Featuring overstimulation, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, pussy slapping, mild humiliation, unprotected vaginal sex, (somewhat) public sex, clothed sex, mild choking, spanking

Note: Hello lovely reader! Story is based on THIS request and HERE is the prompt list used. If the anon who sent the request is here, I apologize for making you wait so long! I hope this story makes up for it. I'm putting the whole fic beneath a read more. Reader is dornish from an unspecified House. As always, please enjoy!

“I could eat you out for days,” Daemon groaned into your soaken, swollen folds; the Targaryen Prince completely nonchalant in regard to the lewd slurps he licked and sucked all along you.

A wet spot stained the chair's cushion you sat upon. Something between a hiss, moan, and whine jumped from your throat as Daemon gave your overstimulated cunt little break from back-to-back orgasms. Your spine arched, thighs flexed, and the toes of one foot pressed onto the ground while your other leg slung over one of his wide shoulders. Today, it was he who knelt before you. Your fingers slid through his long silver hair. You didn’t know if you wanted to pull him deeper into you or push him away. “Please, my prince…!” You panted. Sweat sheened atop your olive skin like tiny jewels. The fine hairs along your neck clung to it in small curls. How many times had he pushed you to peak? You’d lost count at three – once with fingers and twice with mouth – and that was some time ago, now.

“I’m on my knees eating your cunt and you dare push me away?” He asked, violet eyes ablaze with lust and mocking anger as he stared up past your heaving breasts to your face. “Mannerless girl,” he said as he smacked your sensitive folds. “Many a whore dream of this and you have the thought to push me away?” A laugh echoed his question before he dove back in, unrelenting. This time, his fingers joined, too. Handsome lips wrapped around your hard little pearl while two fingers pushed up into your empty cunny. 

You squealed, and in the same moment your legs trembled to tautness. “Gods!” His name tumbled from your mouth in broken stutters. You squeezed into his hair, hard, thighs pressing firmly around his head as your hips, as if beyond your control, ground against his face and fingers through an intense, almost aggressive, orgasm. “Too much! Too much, Daemon. Please, my prince, let me rest,” you begged. The wet spot beneath your ass had doubled in size.

He looked up at you again with that same desire and violence alike. “So pretty begging,” he cooed, mouth and chin smeared with your slick. “Ask nicely and I might let you suck my cock.” All the while he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. He turned his wrist, flexing it, as he mercilessly bullied your hidden patch of nerves that had your eyes rolling closed. 

By now your legs were open and fully relaxed. And, too, your cunt. The sloppy wet sounds of his finger fucking sent humiliation burning your cheeks. Part of you hoped he wouldn’t notice while the other part hoped he would. 

Since your arrival to King’s Landing with your cousin, Criston Cole, hardly a day passed without Daemon taking use of you. The attraction between you and him was instant and fierce. You, a childless newly widowed dornish lady, and him, Daemon fucking Targaryen. Tales of the Rogue Prince traveled from The Wall to Sunspear and everywhere between. He didn’t need any introductions. When you sauntered and circled around him like a desert panther he followed you with calculated eyes. When you spoke to him in low, sultry tones, he leaned all the closer to hear each clip and dip of your accented words. Your dark eyes bewitched the dragon in him. Before night fell on the second day of your arrival, he was buried to his stones between your legs. Dorne was the only people to slay a dragon: your nails dug into his wide, muscled back, and you rent him in passion.

You’d been in King’s Landing for a fortnight, and now, with a face hot from humiliation, was another thing he could taunt you with during your next tryst. For there would be another. And another. And another. 

You cried out in bliss. White, and hot, and beautiful, your whole body tightened before relaxing with a swarm of gooseflesh. 

“I told you to stay quiet, didn’t I?” He asked, hissing voice dripping with amusement at your state of wanton debauchery. The room you were in was only a side room off one of the main corridors – oft used for overflow, recreation, or a quiet place to study. The idea of anyone coming in at any time brought forth another layer of excitement. But, in turn, you did have to stay at least a little quiet. A woman moaning and whimpering in passion would surely bring curious ears (and mayhaps eyes, too). The prince wasn’t in a mood to share. Before you could answer he chuckled coldly. His free arm lifted and he pushed two fingers past your painted lips. It muffled you to his satisfaction. He smirked. “You look so pretty with my fingers stuffed inside of you,” he said as he admired the sight of both sets of your lips wrapped around his digits.

Finally, just as tiny beads of sweat began dripping down your neck, Daemon gave you a break. He still had his fingers stuffed in you, but he didn’t move them. He simply kept them inside of you. Feeling you. Enjoying you. Letting you gather yourself while he watched with great amusement. Eventually you did and you returned his gaze with darkly glittering eyes.

Two could play his cruel game. 

“Is this where your favorite whores would be tired out, my prince?” You asked sweetly. “Perhaps you need a reminder of how we are made differently in Dorne,” you proclaimed. Your features brightened with a second wind as you moved a foot to the center of the prince’s partially clothed chest and kicked him back. With a feline grace you maneuvered to straddle his waist. Smiling atop him, it was your turn to take the reins. In all honesty you weren’t sure if he’d let you be so forceful with him, and the fact he did sent the desire in your blood roaring. You were both still partially clothed, but it mattered little. 

Daemon growled beneath you. Would he breathe fire next? You wondered.

“Don’t be gentle, riñītsos.” little girl In a hasty fumble of hands he opened the front of his breeches to free his cock. Its weight slapped against the inside of your thigh, hot and smooth and no doubt dripping with pre. You gasped. Satisfied. He was glorious.

“I wasn’t planning on it, sweet prince.” The saccharine melody of your voice was so unlike your normal cadence that it sent his cock twitching just as you began to sink down on it. He was big, and thick, and hot, and so, so, wonderful. You couldn’t help the moan which poured from your mouth. You savored the stretch of him. Your slick, fleshy walls yielded inch by inch until your cunt was full to its end. You both groaned at the sensation. Slowly, you started to grind back and forth on him, your body acclimating to his size. “You’ve the best cock in all the Kingdoms, my prince,” you said breathily. One of your hands pushed up the center of his abdomen, chest, collar, until you dared to wrap your hand around the strong pillar of his neck. You pressed your fingers just so.

Below you, Daemon’s eyes blackened like a sharks. Leaning up on an elbow, the hand of the other flew up to your neck where he held the slim thing inside his much bigger, much firmer, hand. “Have I been too soft on you that you think you can hold me by the throat?” He asked, driving his hips up into you – setting the pace for the fucking he intended to give you. “Answer me when I talk to you, riña.” girl

Not letting go of his neck, you bounced with his rhythm. Your breasts did, too, the dark nipples of each tightened to pebbles as you tried to keep pace with him. His stamina surpassed yours, and you were already running low from his ravished mouth and fingers. Still, you tried. “You look so good under me,” you praised. 

Whether he accepted or denied your praise, you couldn’t tell. The next thing you knew he laughed, low and sinister, and curled his body up so you were breast to breast. He pushed you over with ease. With you on all fours, the side of your face squished against the rugged stone floor, he rucked your silken hems up around your waist and instantly shoved his cock back into you. “You can come when I tell you to come, understood?” He asked with a firm slap to your upturned asscheek, sparing it no mercy as he fucked into you for his own pleasure. If he thought you were being too loud before – and if his brain was in his head rather than his cock – he’d have shoved something in your mouth to quiet you. Between your sounds of pleasure, and the obscenity of skin slapping on wet skin, anyone with warm blood in their veins would know what’s transpiring in this room.

You were back to babbling his name, yes’s, and please’s, over and over again, your body absolutely wrecked at the intensity of his fucking. You loved every single second of it. Numbness and weightlessness traveled out from your spine to the rest of your body. Before you knew it you were soaking him down to his balls. 

He slapped your asscheek again. Twice, this time. “I don’t remember saying you could come,” he growled by your ear, his breath hot against your neck. His pace never softened. “Let’s try that again. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it.”

You had no idea how you could give him another one. Your second wind gave out, and yet, still, he wanted more. Pushed you to more. “‘M sorry, Dae-mon,” you stuttered through the slapping of his pelvis against you. “Felt too-o good,” you whined.

“Gonna fill this pretty cunt up. Fuck you full with a royal bastard.” He gripped both sides of your hips and didn’t stop until his own breath came in labored pants.

By then you were so far gone; the pleasure immense and all consuming. You were somewhere deep in your head, somewhere light and floating, as the Rogue Prince fucked you dumb. Senseless. Happy. 

“Come with me, riñītsos. Come with me, now, Come with me,” he grunted through strained breath. Climax found you both at the same moment. He spent his seed as deep into your body as he could go, letting the final twitches of his peak release every bit of him into you. 

Exhaustion settled over your body like wet sand. You rolled onto your back, and Daemon did the same; sated minutes passed silently while you both regained yourselves.

“What of the plans I had for the rest of the day now? I can’t go out looking like this,” you said, laughing, as you gestured to your once neatly curled and braided hair – not to mention your smudged make up.

Daemon looked at you, smirking. “Do you have any commoner’s clothes?”

“Hm… I believe so. Why is that?”

“Put them on. I’ll lend you an old cloak. Let me show you my favorite gambling tavern in Flea Bottom.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess

Daemon taglist: @sahvlren @abbyandizzysmum @boofy1998

[the-desilittle-bird]

Hey dear! I saw that your requests are open and I was wondering if I could get a imagine/oneshot Daemon x wife!poc fem Reader (dornish maybe?) inspired by "jhute ilzaam" by Umrao jaan, please? (with happy ending) feel free to ignore.

AN- I loved it! Thanks for the ask sweetie. Hope you find it as per your liking.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading

False Accusations

Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Reader

Summary- And sometimes false accusations end with a beautiful evening...

Tag List- @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba, @bi2simps, @issybee0611, @yariany02, @agathe, @5moremin, @candypurplebutterfly, @saraelizabeth26, @moon-light1415, @targaryenmoony, @stargaryenx, @instabul, @shine101, @hyacinthus007, @mcam623, @eudximoniakr, @carissa_griffin7777, @marvelescvpe, @severewobblerlightdragon, @deltamoon666, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @ultrav0lence, @savagemickey03, @sunmoon-01, @literishdegree99, @watercolorskyy, @Lady-Juliettes, @cherryaemond, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @nats-whore

Warnings- Tooth-rooting fluff and it gets steamy at a point. Implied smut.

GIF Credits to @thelekhikawrites

Kaun kisko yaha bhala samajha

Humne kya samajha tumne kya samajha

"Do what I hear is right?" The Dornish princess asked, her fingers combing through her dark tresses. Her dark eyes gazed accusingly at her husband who seemed not fazed by her statement, casual as always.

Instead, the Rogue Prince drew closer to her, like a moth to burning fire. His long fingers caressed the dusky skin of her shoulder; the thread of her heavy necklace sat sternly on the bare skin, barely grazing the rough padding of his digits.

"And what do you hear, my little sun?" He called dearly, fingers running down to the thread which held her translucent nightwear together. "Now, that you are here, make some work on the threads of the necklace."

With a roll of his eyes, Daemon started to carefully undo the knots holding one of the symbolic representation of the riches of House Martell of Dorne. But whilst his pursues, he observed the little frown shadowing over her face.

"What has stolen the smile of your face, beloved?" He asked, once all the knots were undone and the jewelry was placed carefully on her vanity. His fingers massaging the muscles of her tensed shoulder.

"Queen Alicent had decided to enlighten me upon a particular... interest of yours," she said, her teeth sinking into her lower lip while her hands slapped his hands off.

"Which one?" Daemon asked with a frown tugging over his eyebrows. His hands crossed over his chest; eyes skimming over his lady wife; his little sun; his Dornish princess.

"Were you in an intimate relation with Rhaenyra?"

The prince was left in a deep silence; his eyes boring deep into her brown irises which resembled the drenched soil after the arrival of first rain; the earthen warmth they held were lost as tears welled up in them.

"Were you, Daemon?"

Of course he was. How could the prince forget it. But that was before (Y/N) came in his life; dancing and singing like one of the angels from the heaven, with hair so dark that they could challenge the Maiden herself.

Her smile which brightened up his entire life; making him forget about the misery of his life and drown in the rain of love she showered over him.

"I was."

"And does the relationship still exist?"

The hope in her eyes resembled the flame of a burning candle; little but bright. Her pink lips resembled the petals of the softest rose. Her skin like gold; or the beautiful colour of tea she makes when he couldn't sleep.

"No."

"And how shall I accept that it isn't a lie?"

Daemon chuckled, his hands guiding her to stand up. Forcing her to face him, to look into his violet eyes with her dark ones. In her eyes, he saw in them the childlike stubbornness and with them was love.

"What can I do to make you believe it?"

Meri aankho me jo achhe nahi lagte aansu

Toh jalaya na karo mujhko sataya na karo

"I hate it when you cry," he whispers, cupping her cheek as his fingertip massaged the muscles beneath her eyes, softly with great care. "Then don't make me cry then," she replied in an equally low voice, the stubbornness leaking through her voice.

"Apologies, my love," he says, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. The sharp intake of breath pleased the prince as he retracted his face only a few inches.

"Apologize better," (Y/N) argued, turning around with her arms folded in front of her. Her eyes focused over the reflection of herself and her now smirking husband, who only stepped closer to her, towering over her petite stature.

"I. Hate. Tears. In. Your. Beautiful. And. Erotic. Eyes."

Each word was accentuated by a kiss, starting from her shoulder to her neck. The shiver which ran down her spine excited him.

"Stop the seduction," she hissed, eyes widening as she took a few steps away from her prideful husband, unconsciously moving towards the bed she shared with her lord husband.

Daemon only huffed a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he stepped closer to her; like a predator hunting it's prey in the quiet of a dense forest.

"Those are just another false accusations, ñuha byka vēzos," (My little sun) Daemon said, his fingers slowly crawling over the expanse of his broad chest, undoing the ties which hold the black tunic together, slow as a turtle.

"It hurts me, Daemon," she whispers with a bite on her lower lip, blinking her lashes to prevent the fall of her tears.

Jhute iljaam meri jaan lagaya na karo

Dil hai najuk ise tum aise dukhaya na karo

"These false accusations hurts my weak heart as well, my lady love," Daemon admits, exposing his lean chest to the hungry eyes of his wife. His tunic was left abandoned on the floor, while his finger grazed the covered skin of her side, just below her bossom.

"My lord, I was just... scared to lose you."

"You would never lose me, my sunshine."

His lips touched the smooth skin of her collarbone, a small hum of pleasure leaving the throat of the exotic beauty he was fortunate enough to marry. The little moan had him growling; his teeth biting the skin below her ear softly.

"Daemon, please."

The smirk on his face grew, his fingers finding home on her waist. Her dark brown locks touching his rough fingers, a soft touch like a mother's to her little child.

"Lets remove the false accusations from your mind."

[axelsagewrites]

Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[sunnyhvnny]

Hey Sunny! Could I get a threesome with Daemon x poc fem!reader x Aemond with double penetration and nipple play (reader is sensitive) and they stimulate her until she comes, please? (sorry for my English)

Honestly, I need to hone my skills at writing threesomes because it feels so stiff to write them.

“She tastes divine, doesn’t she?” the rogue prince chuckled as he watched the pretty little thing he found at Harrenhal grind her soaking cunt onto his nephew's face.

Daemon fisted his hard cock as the hands his nephew had on her hips moved to grab her ass. She whined at the feeling and Aemond bucked up into the air at the sound. He didn’t agree with his uncle on much, but he had to agree that the woman riding his face did taste divine. He would have stayed buried with his face between her legs for eternity if his uncle hadn’t grabbed her waist and pulled her off of him.

“We can’t have you enjoying yourself too much too quickly, now can we?” Daemon questioned her as he kissed her plump lips. When she parted her lips for him to delve his tongue into her mouth, he groaned. He remembered when he first took Harrenhal and brought her to his new bed. She had stood out from the rest of the women within the walls and when he took her to his new bed, she was so shy.

He pulled away and felt a primal spark within him when he saw the spit between their mouths. He went to lie down and pulled her on top of him. He only had to give her a look and she knew what to do. Since he had claimed Harrenhal, he had made sure to sink himself into her at least once a day.

She grabbed a hold of his cock and placed it at her entrance. Before she sunk down, she ran a hand up her soft stomach and cupped her breast. When she sunk down and took him fully, she pinched her dusky nipple and mewled. From behind her, he heard a groan and remembered his nephew.

Just today Aemond had come to claim Harrenhal for himself and Daemon had agreed to leave without a fight, on one condition. The condition was that he got to fuck his sweet girl one last time. Before he could agree, Aemond had caught sight of her, and eventually, their agreement turned into sharing her before Aemond would take her as part of Harrenhal.

She seemed hesitant at first but when Aemond had stripped her bare and took one of her soft breasts into his mouth and bit onto her sensitive dark nipple, she had given in quickly.

“Come, nephew, I may have taken her maidenhood but there is still one hole of hers that has yet to be used.” Daemon ran his calloused hands up her sides and pulled her down against his chest. When he moved his hands to palm her cheeks, he spread them apart for Aemond to look upon her virgin hole.

She whimpered as she moved on the rogue prince’s cock, the veins making all of her nerves tingle. She felt the kinslayer climb on the bed and kneel behind her. Her breathing became unsteady, she couldn’t deny that she was nervous. Daemon had not taken her there before, the most that he had done was slip his thumb into her as he fucked her from behind.

Daemon palmed her breasts as she felt Aemond spit on her dry hole and gently push his finger inside of her. She couldn’t help but squirm under his touch but his other hand came down to hold her hips steady as he readied her to take him. She had been so focused on Aemond’s fingers that she forgot almost completely forgot about the other prince underneath her, that was until he started to thrust up into her, ever so slightly. As she felt two fingers stretching her ass, Daemon leaned down and sucked one of her hardened nipples into her mouth. She sighed at the feeling. Daemon knew her nipples were sensitive. One time he had brought her to her release just by sucking and nipping at nipples and the soft flesh around them.

From behind her, Aemond had the perfect view of her round cheeks and her wet cunt that squelched every time Daemon slowly thrust into her. It couldn’t have been enough to give her pleasure, but he saw how his uncle's fist tightened on her soft dark thigh when she clenched around him. After a few moments of scissoring his fingers inside of her to open her up to him, he removed his long fingers and let them drift down to the slickness coating the inside of her thighs. When he had enough covering his fingers he spread it around her hold and pressed the head of his cock to her. He felt her stiffen underneath him and felt his lower abdomen tighten. He slowly pushed into her. She let out a low, guttural moan as he slowly bottomed out. He waited a moment, not so much for her, but for himself. Her unused hole was so tight that Aemond had to clench his eye tight and squeeze her hips hard enough to bruise to stop himself from spilling inside of her at that moment.

After a few moments, she pushed back against him and he took it as a signal to start slowly moving. It didn’t take him long to gain control of himself but just as he did, Daemon started to thrust into her faster, making the pressure on his cock tighter. He grabbed her shoulders and held onto her tightly as he fucked into her hard, but slow. Daemon had a different idea, though, and clasped his hands together on her lower back, forcing her hips still as he moved faster but in shallower thrusts.

The different forces and speeds from the princes had her crying out. She couldn’t tell where she ended and they began. Colored spots clouded her vision when Aemond slipped a hand from her shoulder and to her bouncing breast that wasn’t in Daemon’s mouth. She wanted to warn them, let them know that she was about to climax but just as the words were about to leave her, Daemon hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her soaking cunt, making her scream and shake in pleasure. Neither of the men slowed their paces as she clenched and fluttered her holes around them and when she collapsed on the older prince’s chest she heard a strained silky voice from behind her say, “don’t quit on us now. We’ve only just started.”

[sephirothsplaything]

So dear author, can I get an extremely intimate, passionate and romantic nsfw imagine/oneshot Daemon x poc/black fem! reader, in which they are married, but reader has been acting strangely for weeks and Daemon is kind of worried/intrigued by her behavior (since she is distant and doesn't talk to him about what's going on) and he goes to Nyra (they're friends) to try to find out what's going on and she just reassures him. But what he doesn't know is that Reader is pregnant and is trying to find a way to tell him. So with the help of Rhaenyra (who is the only one besides her who knows) reader prepares a surprise for him (more like a love nest, complete with candles, flowers, sweets, bath and massage)… While they are there taking a shower together and talking about the amenities of the day, she is giving him a back massage and kissing his scars, then she apologizes for acting strange and tells him the real reason and then he worships her while they make love, please? (sorry for my English, and if it's too long and full of details, feel free to ignore)

I'm ngl Daemon and I struggled a little with this. I really had to lock in for him to be character-accurate, but I sincerely hope you like it! And thank you for requesting I had plenty of fun.

Daemon Targaryen x black fem! reader NSFW

CW: smut obvi, slight pregnancy kink, and breeding kink if you squint and body worship.

Word count: 1320(honestly i have a thing for writing long stuff)

Daemon’s eyes followed as you briskly walked past him.

You hadn’t spoken to him all day. In fact, these days you hardly speak at all. You’d often eat your supper alone or walk with only the company of your handmaidens.

Daemon isn’t one to worry,he had larger matters to attend to than whether or not you're upset with him.

That was his personal opinion at least. Rhaenyra seemed to adamantly disagree.

“There is something bothering her, it is plain to see.” Rhaenyra said. Daemon had come to her for advice, or rather he’d hope Rhaenyra would confirm his thoughts.

“She’s being ridiculous.” Daemon scoffs. Deep down he had to admit, your dismissal of him irritated him immensely. He really did love you, no one could deny this. So why the avoidance?

Rhaenyra scoffs at Daemon. Clearly, what was obvious to her might as well be invisible to him.

Rising up from her seat, Rhaenyra shoots Daemon a pointed look. 

“Take care to be more gentle with her.” She says. And with that Rhaenyra exits the room, leaving Daemon swirling in his thoughts.

You paced around your room. You knew you’d have to tell him eventually. Your belly would soon grow for all the world to see.

“Y/N?” You heard Rhaenyra’s voice call out to you. Ordering your handmaids to leave the room,you invited Rhaenyra to sit by you. She takes your hand in hers,thumb brushing the top of your hand.

“He needs to know.” Rhaenyra sighed out. Of course she was right,as always.

You folded your hands together,deep in thought. Daemon was always caught up in one matter or another. You were unsure on how to speak to him.

“Perhaps you should arrange for something special?” Rhaenyra suggested. You stared at her in confusion. You and Daemon’s relationship was interesting at best. It was never boring, he’d frequently bring you back things such as fine jewelry or books from other kingdoms. 

“I am unsure as to what he’d like.” You admitted,slightly embarrassed. Rhaenyra smiles at you. 

She found it amusing how you, too, seemed oblivious. 

“He’ll enjoy anything you give him,I think.” Rhaenyra assures you.

So here you were,leaning up against the outside of your tub. Your curly white hair rested against your brown skin. You chose to wear a simple linen dress. As nervous as you were,you were in no mood to be decked out in overindulgence.

You had sent for Daemon awhile ago. The longer you sat in waiting, anxiety began to set in. Taking a breath,you took in your surroundings. The bath had since been  drawn and the petals of your favorite wildflowers had been scattered onto your bed and the floor.

But what if he didn’t like it? What if he thought you were a fool for making such an effort? What will happen when–. 

“Y/N?” Daemon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. He walks around your room,taking note of all the decorations you’ve set up. You lift your head up slightly. It was like you were going to puke any minute.

Daemon finds you on the floor of the bathroom. You offer a half smile at him. Daemon crosses his arms,leaning onto one of the walls.

“And what’s all this?” He asks. 

“I just thought perhaps we could take a bath together.” You mumble.

Daemon doesn’t respond. He stares at you for a moment. Then slowly, he passes you by to the bath. He removes his shirt, followed by his pants and undergarments. Getting into the water, he leans back into the tub.

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow at you. Following suit,you remove your dress. Sliding behind him,you lean onto his back. A comfortable silence wafted in the room.

“Caraxes and Syrax have brought forth a new clutch of eggs.” Daemon said. You hum softly as you begin to massage his shoulders. He sighed,leaning back further into you.

“Perhaps I should take an egg for myself then.” You giggled. You hadn’t yet found a dragon for yourself,much to Daemon’s dismay.

You went quiet after that. You still haven't told him. Daemon runs his hand down your arm,silently coaxing you to speak to him.

“I’m pregnant.” You say,voice quivering a little. Daemon stills at the news and you think that you really might throw up, for the second time.

“Is that what you’ve been dancing around?” He finally speaks. You take a breath but the nervousness doesn’t leave your gut.

“I know you’ve been so busy I wasn’t sure if you’d be pleased.” You say quietly.

“You are going to bear my child,why wouldn’t I be pleased?” He scoffs.

You couldn’t find a response for him,so back to silence it was.”

“Do you know that I care for you?” He asks,voice stern.

“Yes.” Your response was immediate.

Daemon stands up,he turns to face you.

“Then,allow me to take you to bed and show you?” He suggests.

With that he slips an arm under your plush thighs,carrying you to the bedroom.

Daemon lays you out on your bed. Your body is flush against him as he kisses you deeply. His hands trail down to your stomach and linger there for a moment. You shivered at the contact.

Daemon kisses down to your stomach and down to your thighs. You whine impatiently and he shushes you.

Daemon devoured you like a man starved. His hands grip harshly onto your plush thighs, sure to leave bruises in the morning. You moan softly, your hand finding its way to his hair as your fingers softly brushed them.

Daemon hummed softly. Then, he removes his mouth from you,beginning to place kisses fervently all over your body. He sits back on his knees,taking you in. The coils of her hair were splayed out on the pillow like a halo. Your brown skin was nearly hot to the touch.

Mother to his child. Daemon couldn't begin to verbalize how perfect you were.

“Perhaps after this child, I should give you another.” Daemon purrs. You gasp in surprise as he drags you by the legs,bringing you closer. Lining himself up with you,he thrusts in one fluid motion.

Curses and moans filled the room,the sounds gracing your ears. It was all so overwhelming,waves of emotions welling up in you all at once. As he continues his harsh thrusts,you think you can hear him mutter about how tight you were for him.

 Your legs wrap around him tightly,urging him on. You felt the soft stabbing of his cockhead up to your most sensitive spots. You whisper out his name,hands making their way towards him, hands interlocking.

Daemon knew you were close,he could feel your walls squeezing him like a vice,ever the tease you were. 

Climaxing, you felt the mixture of his cum as well as yours flow down your thighs. Daemon stays in you for a while,ensuring that not a single drop was wasted. After some time passed,he slowly pulled out of you. Shuddering at the feeling of his warmth leaving you,Daemon pulls your body to him,wrapping his arms protectively around your waist.

The two of you were silent for a while. Daemon gently stroked your back, His head turned to you slightly.

“I assume you’ve come up with names for the child,all that time you were ignoring me.” He says,a slight humor in his voice.

Giggling, you agree you had.

“Aemon if it’s a boy and Rhaena if it's to be a  girl.” You decide. Daemon smiles down at you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Sunflowers + Daemon x poc fem reader + lemon (graphic) + fluff, please?

“Field of Gold”

Pairing: Daemon the Rogue Night x POC fem. reader (Second Person POV) | Prompt : Sunflowers

Themes: Smut (Lemon) | Soft/Fluff

Warnings: Explicit language | Kissing | Dirty Talk | Penetrative sex | Rough Sex | Quickie | Cream pie

Wordcount : 800+ words

Summary: A run through a field of sunflowers results in amusements other than the thrill of the chase.

Rating: 🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

Rules and tag form here | Prompts for requests here.

Caraxes slumbered peacefully amidst vivid yellow blooms, oblivious to the giggles and squeals erupting further away from him.

Daemon chased you through rows of golden-yellow sunflowers already ripe for harvesting. The flowers swayed and sighed in the rising wind, their faces turned towards the setting sun. The sky had turned into a canvas of red and orange and yellow and pink, and the field was bathed in golden light.

"You can run all you want!" Daemon shouted from behind you, "You cannot escape me!"

You pick up your skirts and run even faster, zigzagging through rows of sunflowers. "Watch me!"

Daemon laughed and chased after you, barely feeling the exertion that was already starting to wear you down. He chased you still, grinning when you stopped to catch your breath. Daemon caught you and tackled you to the ground, his chest heaving with each breath he took.

"Giving me a merry chase all over this field?" Daemon tsks in amusement. "I must make you pay for it."

You squirmed and challenged him; your eyes narrowed to thin slats. "Make me pay? I would like to see you try."

Daemon growled before dipping his head. The warmth of his mouth silenced you when it opened over yours. His lips were soft as they always were, and tasted of summer wine. You shudder when desire sparks and heat pools in your belly. The prince wasted little time. The sun had dipped lower on the horizon, and he needed to take you back to the city before nightfall. He kissed deeply and hard, his tongue licking past your lips whenever you whimpered and moaned into his mouth.

"Such a naughty girl," he coos. Daemon snuck his hand beneath your skirts, grinning wickedly when your legs slid open for him. "And so fucking good."

You sigh wistfully when his fingers ghost up your thigh. Daemon did not waste time on tenderness. He shoved his hand down the front of your small clothes and yanked. There was a clear rip when it came apart.

"Eager," you tease. "But can you make me come?"

Daemon growled beneath his breath. He enjoyed how you challenged him and teased and taunted him. It made him hard. "You fucking tease," he hissed, and sat up, his skilful hands undoing the clasps and lacings of his breeches without a fumble. "You will pay for that as well."

"Make me pay, then," you declared, bracing yourself when he tugged his garments low enough to free his already erect cock.

Daemon chuckled gently before kissing you again. This time, his kiss was mostly teeth and tongue. It left you lightheaded and dizzy and made you all warm and feverish and lustful. When Daemon moved over you, rubbing his tip against your slick entrance, you arched your back into him.

"Yes," you urged, even as white-hot jolts licked up your spine. "Like that. Slide it deep inside me."

Daemon let out a strangled sob when he pushed in with one quick thrust and was drowned in your warmth. He set a brutal pace, kissing you and groaning when your nails dug into his tunic.

"After I take you back to the Red Keep," he vows, "I am going to fuck you in the small council room until you cannot walk."

The prospect thrilled you. "Oh, poor Otto. Whatever will he do when he finds out?"

"Throw a tantrum, no doubt." Daemon could not help but laugh at the image you conjured, of pious, preening Otto learning of his latest tryst. It made him want to act on his promise and find a way to spread the word. "And not look in me in the eye for a while."

"A prospect that thrills you, I see. Him not speaking to you, or even looking at you."

"Of course it fucking thrills me. Otto Hightower not speaking to me? It would be a gift from the Gods themselves."

You giggled into his kiss, your amusement disappearing beneath the haze of wanton need that threatened to swallow you whole. The insides of your thighs burned when Daemon rolled his hips against them. The heels of your feet dug into his back when he fucked you with a reckless frenzy that shocked you and left you gasping for air. Your walls clench and tighten around his shaft while sweet, sweet tension causes your muscles to tense.

"I am close," you cry, panting and sobbing when Daemon goes harder and faster.

A few more precious moments. That was all it took before your orgasm ripped through you. You sputter Daemon’s name while he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, burying himself with one last powerful thrust and flooding you with his spend. Exhausted, Daemon slumps over you.

Nothing was said for a while. You opened your eyes when the air cooled and the sky darkened. Daemon stirred when you brushed your hands over his hair. A perverse and delicious feeling overcame you when you realized the night was still young. "I believe someone vowed to fuck me on the small council table?"

Daemon lifts his head and grins.

[lady-phasma]

In the fading light

Daemon Targaryen x fem Dornish!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, but I was going for soft!Daemon so I don't think there are that many warnings this time.

Summary: Daemon comes to visit you at Godsgrace, the seat of House Allyrion, in Dorne. Kind of an AU in the sense that Rhaenyra isn't the object of his love, nor his motivation for "ending his marriage" to Rhea. 2.6k words

From the request here - romantic Daemon inspired by the song "kalam eineh" (Words of his eyes) by Sherine. I was able to work in a few lyrics as well ("the one whose eyes the moon envied" and "get lost in his beauty").

a/n: Dorne is a very big place and all of the houses are as different as the Northern houses. So as I write more Dornish!reader fics I start to see them uniquely in my headcanon. Godgrace is on a river from what my research tells me, so I think it worked out perfectly that Sherine is Egyptian. I've dropped some Egyptian elements into Godsgrace and that's how it is in my head now. (If there was a face claim for a location think Thebes/Luxor landscape.)

A warm breeze wafted onto the balcony where you and Daemon sat. The sun sank low against the horizon. The river in the distance shone with golds and pinks. A falcon screeched nearby. You turned from the gorgeous view of the Godsgrace river oasis to look at your Prince. He sat, reclined, opposite you. You slid your toes up the inside of his leg, teasing him. He stroked the top of your foot, your ankle, up your shin. Your smooth skin reflected the light of the setting sun much as the river did. Daemon slipped his fingertips under the hem of your thin skirt. The contrast of his pale hand under the bronze fabric was delightful to you. This Northern prince, so accustomed to clouds and darkness. Such a dreary land he came from.

You watched him as he looked out over the Greenblood river. It would be so easy to get lost in his beauty. His hair, his eyes, his mouth, everything about him was entrancing to you. You glanced back out at the river, the people going about their evening paying no attention to the lords and ladies so high above them. Birds circled above fishing boats as the nets were pulled in. Lights began to flicker in windows across the city. You smelled roasted meat and fresh baked bread on the warm air. You would have to dress for the evening meal, if you didn’t request it in your quarters.

“Did you come only because the fool Prince Martell forbade it?” You were genuinely curious. “Or because of your brother?”

“You know that is not the reason,” he spoke softly and continued to stroke your leg. “Their approval means less to me than you think.”

“You risk much coming to Godsgrace.” You wiggled your toes against his thigh.

“It is a fair price,” Daemon replied.

“Surely you are quite rested now, my love,” you goaded. “It is a long journey up the Greenblood, but not so tiring that you would ignore me.” You flashed your eyes at him. They were nearly the color of burnt umber in the fading light. Soon your maids would light torches and candles in your chambers. You would hear them through the diaphanous curtains that hung in the entry of the balcony. Though they would never dare to disturb you, even if you had your Targaryen on the floor in front of them.

Daemon turned his violet eyes toward you, finally pulled from his thoughts. Gods, you thought, even the moon could envy those eyes! The last pink of the sunset caught on his silver hair as it swung freely about his face, tendrils caught in the breeze.

“Quite rested,” he smirked as he spoke. He slipped his hand behind your knee and, reaching forward, grabbed your other leg and pulled you, bodily, to him. Your chair legs screeched against the stone floor as you threw your head back and laughed. When he had you where he wanted you, he smoothed his palms up the inside of your thighs. You rested your bare feet on the seat of his chair on either side of his legs. He pushed your skirt all the way up to your waist as he stared into your eyes. His thumbs grazed the creases of your thighs and you sighed.

“The journey was too long, but certain hindrances are now resolved,” his voice was low and quiet. “I am no longer married.”

You raised an eyebrow at these words. You trailed your fingertips down one of his forearms.

“I hope that it was painless, my prince,” you both knew the mocking of his title was not malicious. He was not your prince and you enjoyed reminding him of that. “You know, you could have stayed in Godsgrace and I could have sent one of my women to dispatch the issue quickly.” Your grin was knowing, yet seductive. Daemon’s response to Northern morality was curious to you. He didn’t want his wife, but could not bring himself to have another while she lived.

“I did not say I did the deed,” he tried not to smile. “Only that it was resolved.” Oh, he was deliciously vile when it suited him. You chuckled at this.

“Well, I had no trouble with the situation,” you grazed his thigh with one foot. “I needed only your devotion, not your marriage.”

“That you will always have, my lady,” he replied as he sank to his knees in front of you. You moved your foot to his shoulder, the other still in his chair, as you languidly spread your legs to make room for him. He looked up at you again, catching your eyes with his as he kissed your thigh, then your belly. You stroked one hand over his silky head as he lowered it and kissed the dark hair between your legs. You heard him inhale, smelling you, and you became even wetter.

Daemon licked the full length of your slit and paused at your pearl. He circled it with the tip of his tongue and you gripped the arms of your chair. He slid an arm around one thigh to steady you. Then he grazed a finger through your folds, finding your entrance quickly, as if he knew your geography by heart. He teased and didn’t slide inside you yet. He used two fingers to circle your opening, almost matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. Your hips rocked. You tried, and failed, to get his fingers inside. He stilled you as much as he could and continued for a moment that felt like an eternity.

When he finally slipped his fingers into your wet heat he sucked on your clit and your hands flew to the back of his head. You moaned and pushed against his mouth. You thought you felt him chuckle. You didn’t care. You ground your hips on his mouth and fingers.

“Daemon,” you whispered, as that was as loud as you could manage. “That’s it, just there. Please.”

He rubbed his fingertips against the spot that drove you wild, fighting against your clenching muscles. His tongue resumed its circling movements, but with a slightly quicker pace. Your breathing was becoming shallow and the sounds you made came deep from your chest. He pumped his fingers harder into you, knowing the pressure you needed to reach your climax. Your toes curled on his shoulder. You let go of his head, gripped the arms of your chair again, and your body curled forward as your climax overwhelmed you. You yelled his name, moaned incoherently, and then laughed. He hadn’t stopped, tongue still lapping causing your thighs to twitch. You playfully pushed at his forehead to give you peace.

You leaned forward and cupped his face in your hands. His expression wasn’t playful, as yours was. The look was full of something akin to admiration. You kissed him, roughly. You licked yourself from his lips, his tongue, and moaned into his mouth. He reached up and tangled his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, letting some of it loose from the pins that held it in place. Without much grace, he blindly began to release your hair from its confines.

Daemon broke your kiss and began to stand up. You let your fingers trail down his body as he did. You grazed your fingers over his pants, deliberately avoiding the hardness straining the fabric. He pulled pins and a comb from your hair, tossing them on the floor with abandon. You looked up at him, a playfully displeased look on your face for the carelessness he showed for your jewelry, and shook out your hair. It fell in near-black waves down your shoulders and back.

“I need you,” Daemon breathed. His eyes were dark with lust. Still looking up at him from your chair, you pressed your palm over his erection. His eyes nearly closed. His chest rose and fell, trying to maintain his composure. You pressed just a little harder. He grabbed your wrists. It didn’t hurt but made it evident that he couldn’t be teased this evening. You stood, your wrists still in his hands. You raised to tiptoes and pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth. Your eyes narrowed in defiance against being so restrained.

“That’s enough!” He threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and laughed, kicking your feet and pounding your fists lightly against his back. Your laughter bounced off the stone walls as he carried you through the curtains into your chambers. You pushed against him, raising your head to look at the two startled maids, and laughed harder.

“Let me go!” You giggled and kicked your feet but he only held your ankles as he walked you to the bed. You heard the two girls scamper from the room, giggling and twittering.

Daemon dropped you lightly on the bed. You were breathless from laughing. He smiled down at you, but that look was back. What had changed since he had gone North? Your laughter faded into giggles, which in turn faded into quick breaths as he knelt on the bed and kissed his way up your feet, calves, and thighs. He began to unfasten the ties of your skirt at your waist and you helped him with the small buttons of your delicate top.

He licked and kissed the curves of your exposed belly. He nuzzled his nose between your breasts, then kissed each of your nipples. You played with his silky hair, enjoying watching him worship you. When he reached your neck and jaw you began tugging on his shirt, pulling it toward his shoulders. He straightened long enough pull it over his head, then bent down to your mouth again. You kissed him back, hands gripping his neck, stroking his shoulders, down his biceps.

Daemon moved with you, still kissing, as you began to sit up. You gently pressed his shoulders back and guided him to lay down. You straddled his thighs and began pulling at the laces of his pants. He groaned at the pressure of your fingers. You stroked his freed cock, watching your hands move slowly. You enjoyed making him wait but you couldn’t wait any longer. You released him and begin to remove his breeches. Once you had both struggled with that for a moment, you trying not to giggle during the endeavor, you climbed up him and placed yourself on his belly. You could feel his cock pressing against your buttocks. You leaned forward and kissed him and he cupped both of your breasts in his hands.

You lifted your hips enough to reach between you and guide him into your wetness. He growled and squeezed your breasts a bit harder. Slowly, you took him inside you. You raised up, allowing him to keep his hands on you, and pressed your hands against his stomach as you rocked your hips. You took his cock as deep as you could. Gradually, at first, then setting a gentle pace that brought sweet sounds from Daemon’s lips. You leaned forward slightly, finding the angle you needed. He moved his hands, one to your neck, one to your hip. As you settled on a rhythm, he began to match you, thrusting upward slightly each time you rocked back on his cock.

You let your head fall forward, you hair sweeping forward, framing your face and his. Your fingers curled against his chest. You kept this pace as long as you could before your cunt began to ache with the beginnings of your climax. You slowed and Daemon took over. Gripping both of your hips, he fucked up into you, harder than you had been able to manage. His grunts made you squeeze around his cock. They were wonderful sounds that only increased your need for him.

You rested your face against his, pressing your cheeks together. Neither of you could stay quiet. Your name fell from his lips as fluidly as the curses he uttered. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you down onto each of his upward thrusts. The sound of flesh against flesh, lewd and satisfying. Your bodies glistened with sweat in the torch light. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him but the pleasure was too great.

“Yes, please, Daemon,” you whined in his ear. Your lips drug across his cheek as you searched for his mouth. You tried to kiss him. Instead you panted and moaned against his mouth. As your climax began the wave that would drown you, you heard his voice, much calmer than yours could have been in that moment.

“Look at me.” You did. He didn’t stop fucking you, but he held your gaze with those perfect eyes. “I love you. I would kill for you. I would kill anyone who kept us apart.”

Something in his eyes, not just his words, was your undoing. Your climax spread over you at the same time as it curled up inside you. You squeezed your thighs against his hips, almost stopping his movements entirely. You bent to him and kissed him, moaning and sighing, as you came.

Suddenly Daemon’s large arms encircled you and in your delirium you could hardly notice that he was moving you. You clung to his shoulders as he somehow, and gracefully, managed to lay you on your back. He had not pulled out. You wrapped your legs around his hips and ran your hands into his hair.

Daemon fucked you without restraint. You were coming down from your climax but your cunt gripped him tight and he grunted with each deep thrust. He shifted his weight to one hand and deftly scooped one of your legs into the crook of his arm. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him. He was watching you.

“Touch yourself,” he panted. “Come on my cock again.” His smile was enough to convince you, if his words hadn’t been.

So you did. You rubbed your fingers quickly, and in time with his strokes. When you were close again, you arched under him, head thrown back, Daemon’s mouth on your exposed neck. Then he pressed his hips against you as hard as he could. His cock buried completely inside you as he came. Your cunt spasmed around him and you both felt his seed fill you as your climax peaked. He cursed and tried to gently lower your leg. Your body shook and you were unable to help him. He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

As he slowly pulled out and away from you, you mewled and groaned, closing your thighs and squeezing them together. Daemon lowered himself down next to you, on his side. He rested his head on your chest. You smoothed his hair away from his forehead in a long stroke down to his back and sighed. You let your hand rest on his shoulder. He held you close to him.

The cool night breeze wicked the sweat off your skin. The torches guttered slightly. You wrapped one leg over Daemon’s. You wanted every part of your body touching his. You breathed in his smell mixed with your own and the dusty sweetness of Godsgrace coming in through the curtains.

“No one will come between us,” Daemon whispered against you.

“I know, my love, my dragon” you replied, lips brushing against the top of his head.

The sun had set and, perhaps, the dark was what he needed. In the light of day The Rogue Prince was rakish and disreputable. But at night, with you, he could shed that facade.

Masterlist

Tags: @black-dread

[themotherofblood]

Ruie my dear, can I get an imagine or oneshot fluff Daemon x poc Martell (or Essosi) fem! reader where they're married with kids and reader is pregnant again and for some reason Daem decides to give her a tiger as a gift, at first she's kind of confused and really surprised (like how/when/where and why of all possible gifts he chose a fucking tiger ) but the children are fascinated by the animal and in the end she ends up getting attached too. Just some good old fluff with some humor if possible please? (if that doesn't make sense, sorry is that I saw a picture of a tiger and a half of this idea and coincidentally saw that you reopened your requests, so… but feel free to ignore it and sorry for my English)

ahhh, I really wanted make a longer one but felt I should keep the fluff to the point so here’s a blurby fic

WC: 1.2k?

You had laid lounged out in the beach, your pink chiffon gown clinging to your skin in the warm summer breeze. A small white haired child sat a few feet away from you, six summers of age and the prettiest lady in all of the Known World. Her hair, the same as her father and her skin, the very olive tanned aura of your own. There was much serenity in the small family of comfort you had procured, a fiery husband who filled you to birth your firey daughter Alyssa. She sat making castles out of sand, far enough that the moat would fill with water but wouldn’t topple her creation.

“Madame, the prince had returned from Bravos,” an attendant tore you attention from your daughter, Daemon had been gone for near a week, away striking bargain or mostly threatening people with his dragon to get what he wanted. You acknowledged the servant before he took his leave, from your periphery out pours the vision of silver hair blowing against the winds as the thuds of his boots against the sand filled your ears

“Papa!” Alyssa shrieked, pulling herself up with wobbly legs and running over to Daemon. Ready to throw herself at him as he reached down to swing her body up to towards him. She giggled and shrieked some more, pressing kisses to his cheeks as she giggled at him tickling her. He smiled at where you were sat, curls in a neat braid and the curve of your swollen belly against your dress, he did that, the glow of motherhood adorning your skin so pretty, he did that.

He walked over with Alyssa in his arms to situate himself next to you, the girl once again ran of to finish her architectural masterpiece as Daemon leaned his head down to lay a peck at your belly before letting your lips, “have they been good?”

You nodded, “they simmered down a while ago, might have grown bored fighting within mama, huh?” you questioned at your belly.

“Papa look! M’ made a castle!” Alyssa said, waving her hands frantically to grab her father’s attention.

He complimented his girl, his lips curling wider. “I brought you something,” he whispered, his small finger tracing against your jaw as he kissed your lips once more before standing up. He reached down to pull you up before pulling Alyssa onto his lap as he led you inside the palace. Alyssa all through babbled about the shells she found and the baby crabs she saw. Daemon humming along, finding her stories to be valiant stories of knights, his perfect poppet with her legs hanging couldn’t help but spew every detail of her day to her father.

“What have you done?” you stopped at your tracks, the white feline that seemed of popped it’s head out a wicker basket.

“I’ve bought you a big cat,” Daemon said all nonchalant as Alyssa wiggled in his arms to be let down, “go on, help mama name it,” he told her.

“Daemon,” you hissed at him. “That is a bloody tiger,” you covered your daughter’s ear as you glared at him.

“Mind you, they are tigers,” he corrected as the other orange feline joined his brother and popped the basket over as they escaped.

“Daemon…” you sighed, feeling a nerve in your head pop as you looked the aquarium of snakes and the pit for the small alligator he had procured months before.

“Until my darling’s egg hatches, she gets whatever animal she wants,”

You hadn’t realized how serious Daemon had been about turning this palace into a humid jungle. “What does it even eat?”

“Boots apparently,” Daemon chuckled as one waddled over to him and began nibbling on the fine leather of his boot.

“We keep it?” Both Daemon and Alyssa began to give the eyes, this was a plot, being teamed up against with purple eyes pleading at you. “please mama,” she whispered, her little tongue poking out to pronounce her “l’s” as “w” this was extortion.

“Fine,” you sighed once more.

After supper that night you sat by the glowing hearth, in it laid the metal pot with Alyssa egg. You were willing to hatch with all your maternal rage, hatch you damn fire bird, “glare at it harder my love, it will bond to you instead Alyssa,” Daemon pulled you from your anger fuelled staring.

“I swear on my milk cakes Daemon, if those cats, lizards and snakes eat your precious daughter. I am not birthing you another,” you pouted as he slotted himself behind you, lifting your shift to lay his warm palm upon the babes moving within you.

“Hush, just shhh,” he hummed against your temple. “What animal do you want, I’ll get you one to be rid of this fuss,” he mused.

“I have you, isn’t that more than enough,” you chuckled, already picturing the scowl that settled behind you.

“Huh, I am a dragon, just as these beauties within,” he poked at your middle.

“I was thinking more of a cute white sheep,” you giggled once more.

“Oh? Sheep is it,” his brows shot up as he turned your body to lay under him as he held his weight up by his elbow next to you head. “Would a sheep make you swell so full, hmm.”

The piercing gaze of his eyes made you wriggle underneath him as you shook your head.

“Make your breasts-“ Daemon’s salacious deeds would have continued had you not heard a very faint crack, you both stared at the egg for moment before Daemon shook his head and resumed pressing kissed down your neck.

Another faint crack,

“Gods Daemon!” you whispered in shook as you furiously tapped his shoulder, the top of the egg cracked open. Both of you froze in your compromising position before Daemon shuffled of you and rushed for the door.

You wanted to peak inside, yet you knew to give the little things it’s time to realize what was happening. Daemon returned with a groggy Alyssa with her head buried in his shoulder. “Darling look,” he shook her, patting her back to wake her up just enough to see what she was to become.

The egg rattled as a wing popped out, one of red membranes and purple scales, then popped out it’s tiny head. Alyssa, though usually a loud child, silently watched as her new friend crawled away from the egg pot.

Alyssa lifted her baby finger, apprehensively hiding her face in Daemon’s chest as the baby dragon grazed her skin. She flinched away only to turn to you with the widest smile you had ever seen. “Name it,” you whispered.

“Dragon!” She excitedly whispered making Daemon and you chuckle. “Yes zaldrititos, but you cannot name a dragon, Dragon,” Alyssa’s smile downturned as she looked to her father. You could tell she was thinking hard, reaching within her small vocabulary to find a name.

“Crocus,” she looked to her father for approval, you shook your head. After all, something of yours influenced her as she named the dragon a flower from your hand grown gardens.

“Crocus,” he agreed.

Alyssa sat upon the rug with the baby dragon climbing in her shoulder as Daemon returned to sit next you, the scene unfolding in front of you, so intimate and sweet you hadn’t realized your eyes were wet until Daemon wiped at them.

“Daemon,” you sniffled, he hummed as a reply.

“You bring another animal into the house, you sleep on the floor,”

[blue-ephemeris]

Hey! Can I get a nsfw Daemon x wife poc fem reader. In which they are spending a few days with Rhaenyra and the children in Dragonstone and one night, during a night walk on the beach things heat up. Just loving, intimate and comforting sex on the beach under the moonlight, please?

Sure! I would start working on it soon.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey dear! could i get a imagine/ oneshot Daemon x poc fem!reader. Where they are married and have a very good relationship, but one day the reader ends up doing something (she has a good reason for it) that hurts him deeply (no cheating, please) So she recognizes that she made a mistake and tries to fix their relationship (which she can) and if you could use that phrase "I want to hate you but I can't" somewhere I would be extremely grateful. With angst, but happy ending please?+

Alliance Of Thorns

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You were both drawn to each other because of how similarly thorny you were in nature. However, it was truly not your intention to hurt you husband when you did what you did recently.

Word Count: >500

Warnings: wife!reader, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i added the second part of your ask below the gif cos again i wanna see daemons face when i get notes i hope you like it nonnie Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

"Husband," I called, alerting Caraxes from his side.

The sound of my walking over is drowned out by the huffs of the dragon in the pit. Daemon turns to me as his ride pushes past him, stalking towards me in excitement.

My gaze is fixed on Daemon, uninterested by Caraxes advances. He scolds his dragon and commands him to stop before he can get close to me. Caraxes obeys, although he shakes his head and whines in protest.

Daemon walks over, eyes not leaving me as he raises his hand to Caraxes, making him lower his head. The prince reaches out to me. I take his hand. I walk over to his mount and Daemon places my palms on his snout.

Daemon says something in High Valyrian, which Caraxes responds with a soft growl and huff.

Both our hands are pressed on Caraxes face, but my usual affections for the dragon are overshadowed by my worry toward his rider. I turn to Daemon, finding that he is idly looking out to his ride. "My love," I place my hand on his, "please... forgive me."

The prince clenches his jaw, slowly turning to me. He pushes Caraxes firmly away, commanding him to go back to his cave. Caraxes huffs and whines, lifting his head up as he follows his riders command.

I watch Daemon as he watches Caraxes walk off, "there is nothing to forgive."

I knit my brows, stepping forward, "Daemon, please."

"There is nothing to forgive!" he says louder, turning to me, grabbing my arms.

I still, looking at him with a guilty expression. He roughly pulls me close to him, one hand darting to my cheek. He pushes my head back, making me lift my face to him. He repeats one more, this time softer, under his breath, "there is nothing to forgive," he traces my lips with his thumb, "I was never cross with you in the first place."

My lips part at his admission. My hands reach out to his top, pulling at his tunic, "but I ruined your treaty wit-"

"An excuse spewed by a coward. Nothing was ruined," Daemon cuts, brows tightening. He brings both of his hands on my jaw and rubs the skin up and down to my neck. His gaze falls to nowhere, "they dared scorn me in the name of my wife."

I furrow my brows at the sight of him. I pull him closer to me as he begins to heave, anger rising up to his features.

"Daemon."

He does not turn to me.

"I beg of you," I mutter, "tell me how I can make this right."

His eyes dart to me, his hands rest on my neck, "you've done enough."

My chest constricts. His hands withdraw from me to pry my grip off him.

I feel like an abandoned pup when he begins to walk away.

I make haste and grab his arm, "you told me you were not cross."

"I am not!" he quips, turning to me, making me freeze like a deer caught by a hunter, pulse racing in dread and fear.

Daemon's face hardens. He takes my wrist and pulls my hand off him, dropping it as he faces his body to me, "you could lay waste to all the realms, destroy all that I am, and I would not hold it against you, my cunning wife."

He steps forward, gripping my shoulders, "but understand that if you stand in my way again, you are allowing my enemies to destroy me."

A chill runs down my spine when he pulls away and heads out of the dragon pit.

[marthawrites]

I just finished reading "The Gift That Keeps Giving" and omg the way you wrote Daemon is just 🥵😘🤌🏽!!! That said, if your requests are open, I can get you an imagine/oneshot rough nsfw Mean Dom!Daemon x wife poc! fem reader, where they have a great relationship, but reader is the bold and sassy type. And one day she ends up doing something (on purpose) that makes him really , like really really angry (the kind of latent anger that almost makes him take Caraxes and burn everything) but instead he takes it out on the person in charge (reader in this case). With a lot of degradation, spanking, choking, hair pulling and all the kinks you want (be as nasty and bold as possible please🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 I have a very big thirst for this man and I can't help myself, sorry🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️) With aftercare and a fluffy at the end please? (feel free to ignore and sorry for my english)

Hello sweet anon! I love that you enjoyed "The Gift That Keeps Giving". I appreciate your patience and I hope this lil smutty story tickles your fancy!

Punishment

Daemon Targaryen x POC wife reader

Word count: 1.9k+

About: Just because you're in the honeymoon phase with the Rogue Prince doesn't mean you can escape a proper punishment for disrespect.

Includes: Explicit sexual content featuring everything listed in the request, as well as breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is porn with very little plot. I urge you to re-read the request to make sure rough themes are something you'll get a tickle from reading. As always, please enjoy! ♥

-

"You're both dismissed. Leave us. Lest you wish to hear me punish my wife," Daemon said curtly to the guards outside your marriage chamber. He held you firmly by the back of your neck, and the tension of his jaw had both guardsmen bowing before scurrying off.

If you could go back in time – even a mere fifteen minutes – you would. You'd seen your husband angry before, but never quite like this.

Before the guards made it to the corridor's bending curve, the heavy door to your shared quarter opened and slammed closed. Silence followed.

Once inside the room, Daemon's grip around you tightened. "I suppose you think you're terribly funny," he sneered at you, purple eyes burning like the center of a flame. Free hand loosened his belt as he maintained a steady gaze with your umber eyes. 

You hissed beneath your breath at the tightness of his grip. The pads of his fingers dug into the smooth flesh of your neck, the slim muscles and tendons straining against his unwavering hold. "You're hurting me. Let go," you said lowly, eyes blazing in a mirror of his own. Both hands lifted to his forearm in an attempt to push it away. It was in vain, however, for he was much stronger than you and he barely budged against your touch. "I said–,"

" –I heard what you said." He released the back of your neck in order to grip the back of your head; your hair a single thick rope of carefully braided tresses. Yanking, he forced your attention up to him. "I've been too easy on you, wife, to think you can run your cunty little mouth like that."

A furious blush rushed to your cheeks. "You Targaryens and your fragile egos," you snapped, daring and bold, glaring at him straight on. A dull ache prickled your scalp and you did your best to ignore it. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing his aggression pained you. 

"Fragile egos," he scoffed and finally released your screaming hair. "Maybe today will be when I fuck a dragon inside you. Grace you with the gift of carrying a silver haired babe. Perhaps then you'll understand the fury of a Targaryen."

Your marriage to the Rogue Prince, thus far, has been fruitless. On any other normal day you two were still under the honeymoon spell; wed for no more than six months. As if fated by the Gods, after the death of his first wife a series of events began and within the span of a few short months, Daemon’s courting led to a proper wedding. You were of a lesser House than his own, and your dowry perhaps modest in comparison to what else his name and title could bring. Yet it seemed to matter little to him. The Targaryen prince was more than charmed by you. He gifted you with silks, jewels, and perfumes, carefully choosing colors and gems to accentuate the lovely hue of your skin. Dark, and rich, and shimmering with its softness, he reveled in the stark contrast of your bodies. Often, when you were alone, he requested you wear only the finest of sheer wispy silks so he could see, and appreciate, all of you. 

King’s Landing was your home now. Daemon was your home.

“You underestimate the fury of my blood, husband,” you retorted, secondhand anger swelling in your chest. What you said in conversation with King Viserys during the midday meal wasn’t even that bad. Daemon was just moody. Cranky. Crotchety about God's knew what. You had seen the way the two brothers glanced at each other with lingering tension, and you didn’t understand why it was taken so personally. In spite of that you never imagined it would lead to what was happening now.

So distracted by your own fury you hadn’t realized Daemon had you over his lap upon your marriage bed. The thick bulk of his thighs were spread to better distribute your weight across his lap. He pulled the hems of your gown up over the swell of your backside, fingers of one hand curling beneath the waist of your smallclothes. Without even bothering to untie the ribbons around your hips he wrenched them down your legs. In a single skillful motion he fisted the material. He shoved the balled up fabric in your mouth. “You don’t get to talk.”

The makeshift gag muffled your sound of protest. Something even more dangerous than fury simmered beneath your surface. Arousal. You hated, absolutely hated, how soaked the prince’s roughness made you.

He laid a smack against the swell of your ass. 

It rendered you speechless, motionless: pulse hammered beneath your chest, behind your ears, and in the tips of your fingers. With the sting and echo of a second smack, your thighs clenched together. And with a third, your fists balled atop the bedclothes as your eyes squeezed shut.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew to never pull these shenanigans again. Yet… a tiny part, a drop of rain amidst the ocean, wondered if it would take the same shenanigans, or something more, for him to reach this level of anger with you again.

A fourth, and fifth, landed on you. It stung. Your flesh throbbed and the sight of redness blossoming beneath your skin had your husband grinning all to himself. A sixth. 

You whimpered incoherently behind the gag. It hurt – not only your body but your ego, too – and the slick space between your thighs quivered with desperation.

Calloused fingers dipped to test your reaction to his punishment. They were met with warmth, wetness, and a muffled whimper he was very familiar with. A mocking laugh sounded from above you. “Oh, you like this?” Daemon cooed sarcastically. “My bold, feisty little wife… a soaking, whimpering, gagged mess. You lecherous harlot.” Two fingers pushed into you with little restraint, your reddened ass propping up to coax him deeper.

Pleasure immediately blazed through your senses. The delicious stretch of his fingers had your back arching and fists easing in the sheets. If your mouth wasn’t stuffed full it would have hung open from the sensation. Pain's edge seemed to increase the intensity of your pleasure and he only just started. Between the spanking and degradation a blush burned your cheeks, and now it burned even brighter as the wet sounds of your cunt began to fill the room. You were soaked. He knew just how to work you – where to push, or stroke, or curl – and he did just that. Relentlessly. 

Just as the coil of bliss threatened to snap, he withdrew his digits. “Don’t think you get to finish yet. I’m debating if I should even let you find release today.” 

A dagger rested sheathed on his belt, and he wasted no time in grabbing its hilt and slicing up through the fabric of your dress; its whispered rip nearly lost between your muffled pants. Once it dawned on you, yet another wave of fury rose to your chest. This was one of your favorites! A gift from your husband. Oranges, reds, and blacks, with intricate stitchery and patterns of gold thread. Finally, that's what made you spit out the ball of your slobbery smallclothes. "What the hells!" You glared up at him from over your shoulder, aghast.

Daemon laughed. "It was mine to give and mine to take." He moved you off him and stood. Even though he'd just sliced your dress in half, he removed it from you gently. Somewhere in the back of your mind you thought perhaps there might still be a chance to save it.

You were too stunned to speak, and merely finished disrobing as you watched your husband do the same. God's he was so lovely. Handsome and strong, his body wholly a warrior's with its scars and subtly padded muscles. Once he was nude the state of his own arousal had your mouth watering. His cock, fully hardened and glistening at the tip, was reddened with need. With the angle, you barely had time to admire the sight of his stones, too, before he was on top of you. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist.

"My sweet wife…," he said, eyes dark as he tilted his head and regarded your submissive position. "If only you knew when to shut the fuck up."

You had truly, undoubtedly, pissed him off. His eyes were black and palms rough as he pressed up your belly to your breasts. You squeaked as he pinched your dark nipples, the weight of your titflesh filling his palms. "I'm sorry," you said, eyes sincere. "I didn't mean it like that, husband, you know that."

Glaring down at you, he sniggered. "Disrespect and lying in the same hour?" He slapped your tits, cock twitching at the gasp you made at the impact. One hand pressed into the bed by your head for support while the other wrapped around your slim neck. He knew how to do it without causing any real harm. He squeezed. Choking. "The only thing you're good for is warming my cock." 

In a single harsh drive if his hips, his girthy length split you open. Your legs wrapped around him tighter due the deadly combination of: looming above you, choking you, fucking you. A restrained whine and moan tore from your throat; your eyes half lidded and locked on him.

"Maybe I'll tie you up. Keep you locked in here so I can use you as, and whenever, I wish," he said, purple eyes glinting with darkness and delight. He snapped into you firmer, slower, making sure every inch of him dragged along every inch of your saturated walls. 

Even with his hand around your throat you rolled and moved your hips with him, meeting him halfway on each thrust. This carnal side of Daemon, in all of his shameless glory, always had you needy for more. The edges of your vision began to blur with the restriction of your oxygen. Yet, still, you fucked him as he drove into you, eager and whining and dripping, more akin to a lady of the street of silk than a lady of a respectable House.

"You'd probably like that a little too much though, huh? Yeah… fuck. Look at your greedy cunt sucking me in. You filthy bitch." He finally let go of your throat to instead grip your hips. His fingers sunk into the soft flesh as he railed along your sweet spot, basking in the wanton cries of your pleasure. 

"Just like that…!" you panted, breathless. "Please, Daemon.. 'm so close." And you were.

He didn't stop.

Your legs squeezed around him tighter, as tight as you could, and the obscene noises of your wet slapping skin sent you over the edge. Waves of orgasm washed over you and for a moment you thought you might have left your body. Scratches from your clean fingernails raked down the corded muscles of his forearms.

An inward hiss flared his nostrils and with one final push he spilled against the deepest part of your body. Your panting and his quiet moans melded into one as he relished the deep satisfaction of seeding his wife. He ran a hand over your belly. "Don't move, ābrazȳrys, keep all that right there where it belongs," wife he said as he slowly pulled free from you.

Sweat sheened over both of you and the midday sun sparkled atop your bodies. In the summer heat you laid and relaxed next to each other, content to catch your breath, your emotions, and let the sweat cool upon your skin.

"During dinner you will apologize to my brother," Daemon said after a few long moments.

With a quirk of your brow, you asked, "or what?"

"Or I will make this look like gentle lovemaking."

You knew he meant it.

-

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow and/or reblog and/or letting me know! It would make me vvvery happy ♥

masterlist

Taglist: if you wish to be added or removed, please let me know!

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @targaryenbrainrot @ruby-dragon @silverwinged @chompchompluke

Daemon taglist: @sahvlren @abbyandizzysmum

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Hey, dear! Could I get an extreme fluffy kinda steamy/suggestive Daemon x wife poc fem reader. In which they take a shower together, just all the intimacy of a couple after a long day of royal chores, just the two of them talking, teasing each other and enjoying the feeling of the hot, fragrant water and enjoying each other's presence. Entitled to words of affection, caresses, kisses, reader washing his hair, the two of them soaping each other, hugs and whatever else you want, please? (Sorry for my English)

❄️ DAY THREE OF COUNTDOWN ‘TILL CHRISTMAS ☃️

A/N: You’re English is perfect! Don’t apologize for that! I loved this request, just not having to have some over arching storyline was way less stressful and made this so easy to write. Simple fluff is very much appreciated. I hope I did it justice❤️ Taking Requests - link to the characters I write for. Masterlist

Word count: 902

Summary: The request perfectly sums it up lol

You stir in your sleep, feeling someone standing over you. Your eyes open when you feel your husband pick you up, one arm behind your shoulders and the other under your knees. “I’m so tired, what are you doing.” You pout. You throw your head back and close your eyes, not having the energy to argue with him.

“I know you had a long day, this will make sleeping feel even better.” He sets you down on a satin stool, removing the ties from your nightgown, letting it fall off of your shoulders. “Stand up, my sweet girl.” He says. When he calls you that, he knows he has you hooked.

You stand and let the dress hit the ground. Daemon takes your hand and leads you to the golden basin in the corner. You hadn’t noticed before, but it was surrounded by candlelight. Purple flower petals floated on the surface of the water. You don’t know how long you were asleep, but he did all of this so quickly. When you dip your foot in, it’s boiling hot, exactly how you like it. After fully submerging yourself you get hints of rose and lavender oil in the water.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, reveling in the warmth. When your peace is disturbed by your husband lowering himself opposite of you. “I thought this was my bath.” You say, selfishly wanting it all to yourself.

Daemon smirks at you, knowing you’d much rather prefer him to be in here with you. “You’re not the only one who had a long day.” He reaches over, grabbing a glass vile of sunflower seed oil, marked with the large yellow flower. He shakes a few drops onto his hand before reaching for your left leg. He evenly distributed the oil, and then massages it into your skin.

He does it so meticulously, paying extra attention to your knees and feet. He knew how important your bathing was to you. From the very beginning of your courtship he would wait around for hours while you readied yourself for a walk through the garden.

Your dark skin contrasted his, not only by color but softness. He knew how important it was to you to take care of your skin, and he appreciated the time you took on yourself everyday. “What happened with you and the king today? Any progress?” You say, loving the attention he was giving to your sore calves.

He shakes his head, switching to your other leg. “He won’t accept that a war is coming. He’s too old, and sick to care. That’s my fear.”. You suck on your teeth, your know Viserys, he would see the the truth soon enough.

“I promise you he is very aware that’s having a son shortly after naming his daughter heir, is bound to cause conflict. But you must trust your brother, I couldn’t imagine being king, what kind of stress that would cause.” You say, playing devils advocate for the king.

Daemon drops your leg into the water without warning. “Well why didn’t you marry him? Instead of letting a little girl take your place.” He was serious, he never mentioned your past, the reason you met each other in the first place.

You realize you may have overstepped in defending his brother. “Because, he’s not you.” You stand on your knees and waddle over to him. Placing your hands on his face, “I know you don’t want any casualties to happen, especially because it’s your own blood on the line. But you can’t let it weigh so heavily on your heart, some things are out of your hands, accept that honey.” You say, looking into his sad eyes.

He looks up at you and smiles, “You have a way with words, don’t you.” He says, not being able to focus on his brother, with you standing wet in front of him. You skin glows and glistens against the candles. He rakes his hands down your curves. “And you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve every seen.” He leans forward placing a kiss to your navel.

Your hands find their way to his long hair. “Lean back.” You know he needs this bath more than you do. You reach over for the small pitcher, holding it underwater to fill it up. “Close.” You say. Daemon closes his eyes and feels you slowly pour the warm water on the top of his head. You reach for a bar of lye, sudsing up your hands.

Daemon hums as you run you fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp along the way. You rinse and repeat, not questioning the blood staining the tips of his white hair. It was more than likely his own anyways. You cleaned up too many self inflicted bloody noses to know.

When you finish you move back in the water, finding your side of the tub again. “How did I get so lucky?” He says, pushing his wet hair behind his ears. “Well it wasn’t anything you did.” You say, not being able to contain your teasing laughter. “It was just you, you were it for me, the moment I saw you.”. Daemon lovingly looks across to you. He finishes your sentence. “, and I knew I had to have you.”.

You splash him with the water, blushing. “Seriously?” You say, knowing you reiterating what you said to him often before.