#soft!daemon Targaryen

[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

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

Baby Blues

So Soon

Did You Like Them?

Duties

1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back

Why Me?

Eyes Never Lie

Little Girl

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

[aemondsbabygirl]

Was anyone else super turned on from that scene when Aemond shouts :

“Give me your eye, or I will take it bastard!” ?

I mean listen :

Everybody talks about the dagger twirl, which is indeed sexy, but his tone and voice when he shouts at Luke and lunges at him??

Just end me already.

[ninacarstairss]

currently trying to get these tattooed on my eyelids

[lyraoftheevergreens]

The Realms Enchantress

Daemon x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Daemon x Niece!OFC

nsfw: minors do not engage!

Summary: For years Daemon never had a care in the world just, sex, wine and a good battle. With the exception of his favorite niece. His little dragon he called her. He swore to be there for her and he got himself exiled when she needed him the most. Now, he returns from war at the step stones and is determined to get her back. No matter the cost.

Warnings: the usual, Targaryen incest

Authors note: I hope you all love chapter one of this fanfic idea I had in my head. I was having a hard time getting started but I hope you all enjoy it. Other than the characters being Targaryen and having Targaryen features I’m gonna try as hard as I can to get descriptive of her features.

Word count: 1,545

Tag List: open 🖤

Y/n Targaryen, on her second name day was declared the realms enchantress. To see her was to love her. Her gorgeous purple eyes could put you in a trance of awe at her beauty. She was the most treasured girl to her family, her mother and father loved her so deeply. Nobody would ever fathom Daemon capable of such affection but he loved his niece deeply. Then 3 years later came the birth of her sister Rhaenyra the realms delight. The realm had two Targaryen princess to marvel over. The king and queen had two princess to cherish. For Daemon, he was wrapped around their fingers. He greatly enjoyed teaching y/n valerian and taking her for rides on Caraxes. He would brush and braid her hair when he would walk past her chambers hear her cries and catch her fighting the handmaidens upon entering her room. “Ñuhon byka zaldrīzes, what seems to be the problem.” He says entering the door to your chambers from hearing your screams with the handmaidens. “Kepus.” You ran to your uncle tears streamed down your face and weld in your eyes as you leaped into his arms, he crouched down to catch you and held on to you tight. “I- don’t - want- my - hair- in - braids - in - the -tight - ball - on top- my head.” You choked out in between sobs that have now turned into hiccups in your uncles shoulder. That was all it took and you were sat between his legs as he brushed your hair back and he loosely braided it. Nobody had ever thought Daemon would be braiding hair, but yet here he was, braiding yours. He loved to give his two nieces gifts when he returned from his travels.

After riding your dragon Dirrax, you retreated to your chambers for a bath. In preparation for your 16th name day feast that would begin tonight. It was to be a 5 day celebration for the kings first born turning 16 years of age. When entering your chambers ready to instruct your maids to prepare the bath your met with a man laid in your bed. Not any man, your uncle who has been away for 2 years.

“Nyke’ve missed ao ñuhon byka zaldrīzes, Emagon ao missed aōha kepus?” (I’ve missed you my little dragon, have you missed your uncle?)

“Hen rhinka nyke emagon. Ao geptot syt 2 jēdri” (Of course I have, you left for 2 years)

“Nyke geptot naejot ensure allies hen aōha kepa.” (I left to ensure allies of your fathers)

“Syt skoro syt?” (For why?)

“Naejot ensure pōnta don’t forget skoriot pōja loyalties pirtir.” (To ensure they don’t forget where their loyalties lie.)

“I hear father has named you commander of the city watch.”

“He has.” Daemon answered with that smug smirk on his face.

“I give it a year till you are exiled once more.”

“Why must you lack faith in me, dōnus bykus talus.” (sweet little niece)

“It’s what happens is it not?”

“I brought you gift from my travels but I don’t think you’re deserving of it now. I think I shall gift it to Rhaenyra.”

“Kepus! It was only a jest. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your humor.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t, now turn around before your luck runs out.” With that you turn around and you feel him begin to lift your hair you take over and hold your hair up for him it is then that you feel the cold metal lay on your skin. His finger tips on your skin as he closes the clasp of the necklace send shivers through your body. You look down at the necklace, Valyrian steel with purple gems. “A lady in pentos was selling the stones, purple garnet I believe she called them. All I remember is that they reminded me of your eyes. So I had the necklace made from them.”

“Valyrian steel, like dark sister. Thank you kepus, I love it. Avy jorrāelan, kirimvose.” (I love you, thank you) With that you swung your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. It didn’t take a lot to reach him now that you are 16 years of age.

“Happy 16th name day my sweet girl.”

“I am a woman grown uncle.”

“You’re the little girl that sits between my legs and has me braid her hair, Avy jorrāelan.” With that he kisses your forehead and heads off.

“What’s wrong dear sister.” Rhaenyra enters as she sees you pouting at the door of your chambers.

“I can’t find my maids and I would like a bath.”

“So search for them.” She rolled her eyes and walked away. Leaving you stood there playing with your new necklace. A gift from your favorite uncle whom you were determined to show you are a woman grown. After having bathed and had your hair done you opted for your purple gown to match your new piece of jewelry. It accentuated your newly developed curves and breast. Daemon was surely to see you in a new light now.

You made your way to throne room turned dining hall to eat with your family and all who gathered from the realm to celebrate your 16th name day celebrations.

“Princess Y/n Targaryen!” Shouted the announcer, everyone stood as you made your way to the royal table. Sat between your mother and father. Your parents stood and greeted you, told you how beautiful you looked, your father hugged you and planted a kiss above your head. Your sister Rhaenyra of course was in her own world with Alicent. Your Uncle who was sat next to your father bowed his head to you,” you truly are a sight to behold dear niece.” With that you took your seat as many approached the table to wish you a happy name day. Everything was going well until Jason Lannister approached you, “your beauty is spoken of across the realm for great reason I see my princess. Words would never compare to the beauty sat before me.”

“What, you thought it a lie. An ill jest amongst the realm of my niece is beauty?” Began your uncle, clenching his goblet of wine. He clenching so hard you would think it would bend in his grasp. “No my prince, not at all.”

“Perhaps you shall return to your seat.” With that said and a bow of the Lannister lads head he retreated to where he sits. Next was one of the Baratheon lads, so many of them who is whom? You never took the time to learn them. “Your graces, princess,” he bowed,” it is an honor to be here to celebrate you. You are clearly a gorgeous woman grown and when the time comes for you to begin your tour for a husband, please keep in mind house Baratheon on your travels.”

“That is very kind of you lord Rogar.” Your father thanked him.

“You are older than her father do you truly think that appropriate words for a maiden of her stature.” There goes your uncle once more.

“Daemon I think that’s enough.” Your father chimes in.

After everyone is done eating the dancing has began, you were now on your 3rd cup of wine and were understanding why your uncle loved this stuff so much. Rhaenyra and Alicent were off dancing while you, your mother, father and uncle were sat watching the festivities before you.

“Kepus, I wish to dance.”

“Go dance than.” He said gesturing to the crowd before you.

“Please uncle. It is my name day.”

“Only because it is shall I join you.” He took your hand and you both made your way to floor to dance. Daemon had a hard time letting you go so you can switch partners like your supposed to.

“Perhaps I don’t want to share you, bykus talus.”

“The dance calls for it Kepus.”

“Im a prince, who is to go against what I say goes.”

“Perhaps me, the princess.”

“Aōha being quba issa dōna hāedar. “ (your being bad my sweet girl)

“Kostilus nyke don’t va moriot jaelagon naejot sagon dōna. “ (perhaps I don’t always want to be sweet, maybe I want to be bad every now and again)

“Kostilus ñuhon riñītsos iksos drējī grown.” (perhaps my little girl is truly grown)

“ Kostilus nyke“ (perhaps I am) with this he grabs ahold of your face. Hands gripped tightly on both sides of your face as if he is about to kiss you, you close your eyes instinctively to prepare for the kiss when you feel his hand let go of you and he walks off. Leaving you on the dance floor alone on a crowded floor.

[he-is-everything-11]

Rhaenyra might be the only person Daemon’s ever met who wants him because he’s him and not because he’s the Prince.

I think the reason Daemon stops his activities with Rhaenrya is because he Cares about her a lot. He wouldnt want to stain her credibility. He wants to Marry Her. And she is the Princess he couldnt just sleep around with her that would spoil her reputation.

[saintdeimos]

you’re a dragon, be a dragon!

get this ring ~ direct link to Saínt Deimos

[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

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Little Girl || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by me :) pls give cred if used DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: in which Leyla and Daemon are invited to Rhaenyra’s celebration for her fourth year in marriage to Laenor, it gets heated quite quickly.

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

“Are you sure you want to come? Leyla you could be in labour any minute now!” Daemon sternly says as he paces infront of her. The young Hightower rolls her eyes at her Husband. “I will be fine Daemon, stop worrying.” A dinner was going to be held in honour of Rhaenyra and Laenor’s fourth year in marriage.

Daemon had insisted that Leyla shouldn’t come because she was heavily pregnant with their fourth child Leyla watches as Daemon groans, running his hands down his face. It was as if he really did not want her to come to dinner with them.

She furrows her eyebrows, “Do you really not want me there?” Her voice quieted down as her gaze drops to her lap, her fingers instantly moving themselves and picking at her fingernails, an old habit picked up from Alicent. She was offended at how adamant Daemon was on his opinion that his Lady wife should not attend.

The Prince’s features immediately soften as he looks at his wife. “Of course I do, sweet girl” He kneels down infront of Leyla, “I just don’t want you to exhaust yourself too much” He kisses her hands. He knew of her bad habit, so he would delicately kiss her hands.

“Then it’s settled, I’m attending” Leyla tightly smiles. She attempts to get up but struggles due to the size of her stomach. Daemon automatically offers her his arm to which she gratefully takes and gets up with his help.

“Gods I wish this child will come out soon, I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” She huffs, one hand on her back as she groans at her back pain. She was a petite girl after all. Her frame small, making her stomach seem in proportion.

“Let’s hope the little one decides to not come out tonight shall we?” Daemon chuckles, his arm still held by Leyla as the two walk out of her solar. “Wouldn’t that be a turn of events” A chuckle leaves her lips along with a small shake of her head.

~

“Prince Daemon Targaryn, and his Lady Wife, Lady Leyla” The couple walk in, Leyla’s hand on Daemon’s arm for support as they carefully walk down the stairs. “Uncle, Leyla!” Rhaenyra stands up from her seat with a smile as she walks over to the two and embracing Leyla in a hug, quite awkward seeing as her swollen belly was in the way.

At the table, her father and sister were present. Both of them giving a nod to the younger. “Leyla dear, come sit. I have a spot saved just for you,” Rhaenyra pulls her away from Daemon and links her arms with hers.

She looked back at Daemon who chuckles before turning back around to face the front. Rhaenyra had her sit at the head of the table, 2 free seats on her left. The Targaryen Princess pulled out the chair and Leyla sat down with an awkward smile, everyone else was still standing as they watched.

“Daemon-“ She was interrupted by Rhaenyra’s voice, “Kepus, this is your spot,” The Princess gestures to the seat beside her. Leyla’s jaw slackened. She only looked to Rhaenyra, then her Husband then back to her front. Daemon was seated in between Rhaenyra and Alicent.

How odd of the Princess to not seat her husband beside her at a celebration for their marriage. And how odd Leyla found that her Husband was not seated by her side. Pushing the odd feelings aside. She smiles at her father who was directly across from her, a smile that was given back from Otto.

“Oh how good this feels, It’s been some time since we’ve all dined together.” Rhaenyra smiles as the servants pour all their cups with wine, apart from Leyla’s as she covers the cup with her hand, water only, she told them. “And as much as we are celebrating my fourth year in marriage with my dear Laenor, we are also celebrating the child that my Daemon and his wife will soo welcome!” She raises her cup and everyone follows suit.

Leyla cringed. His wife. His wife has a name. The young Hightower makes eye contact with her sister whose eyes slightly widen at the Princess’s words. She looks to her left where Daemon sat, he hadn’t batted an eye to her ever since he was sat down beside Rhaenyra.

The dinner celebration dragged on. Not much was said between Daemon and Leyla because well, they were seated away from each other. So instead, she made conversation with Laenor who was to her right. “Leyla, how ever did you manage to become a mother to three, well soon to be four, children at your age!” Rhaenyra brings everyone’s attention to her, everyone’s little conversations coming to a halt.

Leyla slowly takes a sip of water before answering. “I am just a dutiful wife I guess,” She shrugs, wetting her lips and smiling. “Forgive me, my memory is terrible, how old are you?” She wears a grin on her face, almost as if mocking her. “ten-and-eight.” Leyla answers, this time, with blank expression. Daemon side eyes the two women to his left.

Rhaenyra’s eyes enlargen the tiniest bit, her lips still curved upward. “My, let the poor girl rest, uncle.” She laughs, nudging Daemon who only chuckles. “She’s a wonderful mother to our children. She’s a natural.” He replies, finally looking at Leyla for the first time that evening.

The young Hightower briefly smiles before facing her front again. “You must be aching everyday. Such a small and fragile body like yours must surely be exhausting carrying all those children,” She chuckles, before taking another sip of her wine. The princess was, without a doubt getting tipsy.

“I’m quite used to it, Princess” Leyla shakes her head with a small scoff. “When I saw you heavily pregnant, Gods you still looked like you were…” Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Leyla said over and over in her head as Rhaenyra paused, thinking really hard to find the words.

Everyone else in the room felt the uncomfortable atmosphere. “Darling, maybe you should stop with the wine-“ Laenor interfered but it was no use, Rhaenyra had said it. “Like a little child-“ “Okay!” Laenor butts in, awkwardly laughing as everyone sits quiet. Leyla seemed composed on the outside, calm and unaffected by Rhaenyra’s comment.

But inside, she was fuming. How dare she say that to the only person to be able to give heirs for the Targaryens. Daemon stared at Leyla the entire time. He knew that comment was affecting his Lady Wife. Alicent coughs, Otto gives a displeased look at Rhaenyra.

“I just don’t know how you do it Leyla, I just cannot imagine what you go through during your pregnancies and birth-“ “I think there’s better topics to talk about than my pregnancies, don’t you?” She interrupts her with a fake smile. “We could talk about your children or your pregnancies but there is none to talk about,” Leyla comments before taking a sip of water.

She could see Rhaenyra was visibly affected by what she said. Leyla could see both her sister and father trying not to laugh. She knew of the whispers around the realm, the castle. That Laenor found pleasure with the opposite sex. And of course, both have denied it and yet it seems to be confirmed because during the four years of marriage, Rhaenyra has yet to be with child, producing no heirs.

“I-I’m sorry? I was simply asking-“ Rhaenyra furrowed her eyebrows making Leyla subtly roll her eyes. “Nyra.” Daemon sternly spoke, glaring at her niece. Silence filled the room once again. Daemon was right. Leyla shouldn’t have come to the dinner.

“I think it’s best I go,” Leyla breaks the silence, attempting to stand up but was quickly helped by Daemon. Rhaenyra stays sitting, her gaze hard on the table infront of her. Leyla’s words running through her mind. Alicent walks over, kissing her younger sister’s cheek. “Are you okay?” She whispers, to which Leyla nods with a small smile. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t. And Daemon knew that. The young girl would always rant to him about her insecurities. Insecurities that he himself find beautiful. He knew that Rhaenyra’s comments stung the young girl. “Leyla…” Daemon attempts to comfort his wife but was pushed away as she walks away from him as soon as they step into their bedchambers.

“She had no right to comment about my stature. And-and what she called me. A little girl Daemon!” She shouts as she turns back around to face him who stands there. “She’s just like them all,” She chuckles bitterly to herself as she struggles to undo the laces to her dress.

Daemon moves to her, unraveling the laces to her dress. “I mean, who does she think she is. She knows what she was doing,” Leyla huffs as she slips out of her dress and slips into her nightgown. “And why did she sit you beside her and not me? Your wife, for gods sake-“ “Stop worrying about it, my love” Daemon hushed her. Resting his head on her shoulder and peppering her bare shoulder with kisses.

“But I can’t,” She moans. Daemon carefully turns the girl to face him, “She doesn’t know what she is talking about. Rhaenyra has not had the experience of carrying a child. And you, are producing Targaryen heirs, not her.” He says calmly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she looks up at him.

“Do you think I took it too far when I said-“ “No,” He chuckles. “You were only speaking the truth” Leyla grins as Daemon kisses her forehead. “Come, what a night it has been” He ushers her to their bed.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi,if you’re taking requests would you consider another part of your daemon x stark reader story where she did get pregnant and they are witnessing their “pup” bond with Havoc & Carerax (idk if I spelt the name correctly 🙈) ?? Thank u either way xx

Pups & Dragon Eggs

[Blurb II for the Stark!Reader Universe]

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: "Daemon can choke on his magic," -his wife.

Word Count: >500

Warnings: super mega ultra soft!daemon, puppies, babies, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: Hey nonnie lol, don't worry about misspelling caraxes it's pretty hard to spell lol. and well i FUCKING GUESS ITS CANON THAT STARK!READER AND DAEMON HAVE MULTIPLES FML T_T i thought i could make myself write something else entirely cause this what not what i had in mind, but i cant THANKS A LOT NONNIE WHO REQUESTED THAT LAHSFHALSHFAS LOL Tagging: @deniixlovezelda @pinksirensong @nyctophilic0vitnir Blurb I Blurb III

"Surely if I can put dragon eggs in their crib, I can put a pup."

"Daemon, if you do that I will make Havoc bite your hand off."

Daemon gives me a pleading look, which I answer with a dark gaze. He is defeated, and decides to walk off.

Havoc was lying on the floor panting happily as her pups played and pranced around her.

I watch from the bed as Daemon tuts the pup who attempts to go to the blankets he was putting on the floor.

"Daemon," I call.

"I want to introduce them," he mutters as he walks over to me, claiming one of the babes who had just finished nursing. The other two were still at my breast, suckling.

"They're bound to bond either way. They are Starks," I turn down to my babes, "even though all three of them turned out blonde."

Daemon coos at his baby before turning to me, "we can always try again. I'm sure my magic cock will allow your dark hair to pass on at least one of our spawn."

"You are so lucky that I am nursing right now."

Daemon grins as he places our child on the blanket on the floor and beckons one of Havoc's pups closer. I pout, feeling my heart soar at the sight of Havoc urging her little ones near Daemon.

I cannot hold back my tears.

Daemon makes an excited face, dropping his jaw low as he speaks to the child in High Valyrian. After a moment, he giggles like an excited child himself, "look, my love, they're playing!" he calls, turning to me. His brows raise at the sight of my sobs.

He promptly stands, "alright, that's enough nursing for the lot of you," he walks over to me, "her breasts are mine more than yours."

"Daemon you left our child on the floor!"

Daemon gets both babies from me, and my heart pulses quickly fast when he walks away with them.

"DAEMON!"

"I'm not going to drop my children," he says, uniting the triplets on the blanket on the floor, "now, meet your pups, my pups."

I rub my face before I fix my dress, rolling my shoulders back as. One of the puppies howl, making the rest of them follow in suit.

Even Havoc begins to give hushed cries.

Daemon grins as he mimics, puckering his lips exaggeratedly as he howls and looks down at his children. He is alerted when I come up behind him slowly; my name leaves his lips with a concerned tone.

"You have just given birth-"

"Which does not equate to me being paralyzed."

He leans up against my thigh and rubs his cheek on my dress. Daemon watches the pups as their howls cease and begins to roughhouse with each other. I stroke his head and smile at the sight of my kids surround by Havoc's.

"We should have more."

I immediately shove Daemon by the head, "I literally just gave birth."

He is undeterred, "the maesters say the chances of conception are higher during this time"

"If you would like to keep your tongue and your cock, you will stay silent."

Daemon purses his lips, looking at his children. I love a good challenge.

[catherine-sketches]

Behold the crumbs of girldad Daemon teaching Baela Valyrian since HBO is so keen in deleting all his other girldad moments

LET HIM FUCKING HUG HIS BABIES YOU COWARDS

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hey, dear! could i get an extremely fluffy picture/oneshot Daemon x pregnant!poc reader where ever since they found out about reader's pregnancy he has been super protective, loving and an excellent husband with her and the unborn baby so one afternoon they're spending quality time together (maybe she's reading to him) while he caresses her belly and the baby kicks for the first time, please?

Here you go.

The soon-to-be father

Pairing: Daemon x Fem. Reader (From the Summer Isles)

Themes : Soft | Fluff

Warnings : None

Word Count : 1.3k words

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all   here

It was the height of autumn.

The leaves turned red, dusk crept in faster, and there was a growing nip in the air.

The dragons had taken to gorging on anything and everything the dragon keepers offered them, as if preparing for the lean winter years. It would not be long, they said, before the dragons retreated under the pits to sleep away the winter.

Even here, in the Red Keep, life grew slower, with the rooms and corridors growing darker. Torches were lit everywhere, and fires were blazing to provide the warmth and light that the sun couldn't. Despite everyone’s efforts, the cold still crept in through tiny cracks and crevices, as if the season was determined to have the last word.

Today, however, was tolerably pleasant, although you debated if "tolerably" was the right word. As a lady of the Summer Isles, you were accustomed to warmer weather and sunnier skies. Still, this was the place your husband called home, and you were determined to love it.

No, you tell yourself. This isn’t just your husband’s home. This is the place your unborn child will call home soon enough.

Your hand fluttered to your growing belly. Two more months, the Grand Maester said. Two more months, and everyone will know if it is a son or a daughter.

Your husband didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl. He was just eager to be a father. A father who was driving everyone to distraction with his plans for the nursery, the midwives, even going so far as to insist on being present for the birth. Not that you minded. You were just happy to indulge his whims, often shaking your head and grinning whenever he went overboard, something he did frequently and without shame.

A pelt being draped over your shoulders brought you out of your daydreaming.  "You’re shivering." Daemon had walked in, silent as always. "Come sit by the fire, you’ll be warmer."

You studied him, discreetly, as he went over to the hearth to add more logs to the fire. Daemon was much calmer now, a far cry from the bundle of brash energy he was when the two of you wed. He also looked a little surly this afternoon. "What happened at the council meeting?" you asked, as you made yourself comfortable on a large sofa. Daemon finished his task and took his usual place next to you, picking up a book as he did so. He threw an arm around you and sighed.

"The pissant everyone is determined to make king has been visiting fighting pits every night for weeks now." Daemon rubbed his eyes, wondering how his brother managed to sire one such as his oldest nephew. Perhaps it was a punishment from the Gods for what had been done to the late queen Aemma, he reasoned, though he'd never say it aloud.

"Fighting pits?" You inquired, your gaze drawn to the book in his hands. It was dubbed, The Songs of the Seven Kingdoms. "Like your boxing?"

Daemon sighed and shook his head, his mood darkening. "I wish it was the case. We all do. No, my sweet, this is nothing like that, where there are judges and rules and where the opponents are grown men.

"But I’d rather not talk of that." He continued after a moment’s pause. "I just want you to promise me that you’ll come to me if Aegon comes anywhere near you."

You'd heard the rumors about the prince; everyone had. But hearing something that was passed off as mere gossip confirmed as true was a frightening prospect. "It cannot be that bad…." You say in disbelief. "I mean…. Aegon is a prince… He’s Viserys’ son, surely he…"

"Aegon is nothing like his father, so promise me," insisted Daemon. "Promise me you’ll come to me. Aegon is nothing like the sweet princeling he pretends to be. He’s far more dangerous than you think."

You swallowed as the gravity of the situation started to sink in. Daemon had moved with and fought alongside some of the most dangerous men in the kingdom. And if he thought Aegon was that bad, then—

"I will come to you if Aegon approaches me," you promised.

"Good," Daemon was pleased. "And how have you been? How is our child?"

"A little uncomfortable now that the baby is getting bigger, but I’m good. And the baby is healthy," you said indulgently, rubbing your belly. "And growing strong. The Grand Maester is very happy with everything. He said two more months before the baby is due to make their grand appearance."

Daemon placed a hand over yours, his joy matching yours. "That’s good. I told Viserys I’m not going anywhere till after out child arrives. He agreed."

"And I’ve had word from my mother," you picked up a letter on the side table and hand it to him. "She’ll be here before the birth. She also said four of my father’s finest warriors will be coming with her, and that they’ll be staying here as my sworn protectors. It’s rather odd, since I never asked for such a thing."

You tilted your head to one side when Daemon went red in the cheeks. "Husband," you said in amusement. "What did you do?"

Daemon groaned and mumbled something under his breath.

"Husband," you snickered. "What. Did. You. Do."

In one quick breath, Daemon  finally mumbled: "Imayhavebadgeredyourfatherintosendindwarriorsforyou."

"I’m sorry, but what?"

Daemon groaned again, speaking more clearly this time. "I- may have - badgered your father into sending warriors for you."

You just chuckled and buried your face in your hands. "Oh Daemon. It’s not necessary, my love, really."

"Not necessary?" Daemon stammered in shock. "My dear wife, did you not just listen to a word I said about Aegon? And have you not heard of that brother of his?"

And there he goes, being the protective husband. You couldn't fault the man because your own lord father was exactly like him. It honestly made you love him even more. "I heard you. And yes, I have heard the stories about Prince Aemond. Alright. Father’s warriors can stay."

"Thank you," said a relieved Daemon. "Now, enough of dark topics. How about something light?"

"Like this book?" You hold up the Songs of the Seven Kingdoms. "Perhaps I could read it?"

Daemon picked out a story, about the North and the children of the forest. He was content to let you read, his hand still over your belly.

The afternoon drifted on, with nothing but you reading stories out loud and Daemon rubbing your stomach whenever you grew uncomfortable. He became aware of something beneath his palm. Muscles rippled as something moved. "What’s that?"

There it was again, and this time you too felt it. "That, my love, is our baby." You put the book down, placed your hand over his. Sure enough, there was another ripple. "Kicking at my insides again."

Daemon grinned. "A child of true Targaryen and Summer Isle stock then,"  he said it so gleefully, you forgot your discomfort in an instance. "I wonder if they would be the one to bond with Grey Ghost."

You gave him a double-take. A wild dragon? Your child wasn't going anywhere near a wild dragon. "Grey Ghost? No."

Daemon’s eyes glinted mischievously. "Sheepstealer then?"

"Not on your life!"

He tsked and thought about it again. "I know! The Cannibal!"

"No!" You grinned. Daemon was only teasing you, after all. "My love, can we please stick to the practice of placing a dragon’s egg in the babe’s cradle?"

"Spoil-sport," he said cheerfully. "Alright, my love. An egg in the cradle it is."

"Thank you." You allowed Daemon to take the book. He then spent the rest of the afternoon reading to you and the child in your womb.

[bohemian-nights]

HEADCANONS ABOUT DAEMON’S RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS DAUGHTER(S):

RHAENA:

Daemon nicknamed Rhaena “Rhae” when she was just learning how to speak because she couldn’t fully pronounce her name and because of it he wanted to give her something easier she could pronounce.

When Rhaena was three she got really sick and Daemon (and Laena) were terrified because of the fact that when she was a baby she frequently got sick and they were scared the same thing was going to start happening again. Daemon tried to put on a brave face for Laena but one night breaks down at Rhaena’s bedside and even starts praying that she lives. When she started feeling better Daemon wouldn’t let her out of his sight for the first few days. He still gets anxious every time she gets sick.

He took her on dragonback rides with him when she was little. As she got older (and their relationship began to fall apart) those rides became less and less common. Every time they go to Driftmark he still extends the offer for her to join him. Sometimes she accepts other times she doesn’t.

After Baela left for Driftmark Rhaena become noticeably more quiet and sad. Because of this one day he invited her to a private dinner. When they’re finished eating and she’s smiling he asks her if she wants to go to Driftmark with Baela. Rhaena breaks down crying and Daemon holds her like a baby while they have a heart to heart. After that they begin having weekly dinners. Just the two of them.

When it comes to jewelry Daemon spoils Rhaena with it. He’s even had some of his own rings melted and forged into rings and bracelets for her.

Daemon looks at Rhaena and sees himself (literally and metaphorically) because of this he feels as if sometimes they look at one another but don’t see the other. Other times they look at each other and they quite literally see their reflection in each others eyes.

Daemon knows his relationship with Rhaena isn’t as close as his relationship with Baela (which is saying something given Baela doesn’t even live with him) but he feels as if he’s already done too much damage and instead withdraws from her.

BAELA:

Daemon used to call Baela “little dragon” when she was little and still occasionally calls her it.

Baela pronounces words in High Valyrian with the same “accent” Laena did because of this Daemon never tried/tries to correct it.

Baela used to be afraid of Caraxes when she was little and because of it would only go near Vhagar. Daemon of course decided this wouldn’t do and when Laena was pregnant with Rhaena took Baela on a ride with him. She stopped fearing Caraxes after that but still preferred Vhagar.

Daemon keeps the letters Baela sends him separate from his other ones because those ones are special to him.

Oftentimes they race one another on dragonback from Driftmarm to Dragonstone and back.

When angry both Daemon and Baela (instead of getting to the root of the problem) shut down but have a tendency to lash out/be snappy towards others.

Daemon sees his faults in Rhaena (all the insecurities and negative emotion he struggles with he knows Rhaena struggles with too) and his “fight” within Baela. He also sees Laena every time he looks at Baela which brings back a lot of bittersweet memories.

These headcanons are awesome 👏🏽Can I just say I love how you mentioned Daemon sees himself in Rhaena. Yes, he and Baela are both “take charge” hotheads, but Rhaena is definitely his more vulnerable side. She’s the side of him he likes to pretend doesn’t exist(and Rhaena thinks he pushes her away because he doesn't see anything of himself in her😭).

Also love the part about him keeping Baela’s letters separate from everyone else’s(that’s his baby girl 🙌🏽). Also love the little nickname(and it would be super cute if that's how she signs her letters from time to time🥹).

Ryan Condal take notes 💅🏽

[lyraoftheevergreens]

House of the Dragon Master List

Minors! Do not engage with NSFW! Nothing labeled SMUT or specifically says MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE, thank you <3

Daemon Targaryen

The Realms Enchantress nsfw

Chapter 1