#DAEMON TARGARYEN

[wxlfkingxfthenxrth]

@chimayra this is for you!

"BENT KNEES" always gets me 😭😭😭

[happilyhertale]

Thank u! Glad u like it!

My dragoness – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: Weeks have passed since the announcement of your betrothal to your Uncle Daemon. Since then, hardly a night has gone by without Daemon visiting you - without disregarding your wish not to take the final step yet. But tonight, on your wedding night, you will finally be fully his.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fingering, sex (p in v), breeding kink, size kink, loss of virginity

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is another part of my Shared Future series.

x3 When @targaryen-dynasty asked me if I would like to participate in celebrating her 3K follower milestone, of course I agreed x3

Some have asked for another part for the Shared Future series, which is why I'm celebrating Laura's milestone with this story.

I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 2.5 k

Other stories of mine

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Your eyes are closed and your shaky breath echoes in the chambers. The rooms that you will share with your husband from now on.

The ceremony seems only distant in your memory and now so surreal as you lie here on this bed. How all eyes were on you when your eyes only looked into your uncle's. How you couldn't suppress a grin when you recognised the slightest smile around his lips. How he gently cupped your cheek with his rough hand before enveloping your lips with his…

"Hey... open your eyes," you hear Daemon say - almost softly.

You obey him and your eyes slowly open. The scenery shoots in on you as you lie on the bed in just your nightgown, your husband standing in front of the bed, looking at you, slowly opening his shirt.

"That's better," he says gently and smiles at you.

You don't know why you're so nervous. He's seen you naked countless times, driven you to ecstasy with his touch. But this time it's different, it's your wedding night.

He slowly approaches you as he slowly opens his trousers. Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your nightgown as you try to breathe more calmly. Without looking at him, you hear his trousers slide down.

Daemon's eyes linger on you. He takes in every nervous twitch and quickened breath and he moves closer.

"There's no need to be nervous. I've seen every inch of you, explored every curve, and tasted your sweet surrender. Tonight, we seal our union, and I will show you just how much you belong to me," he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "It will be special," his soft voice sounds and you hear the words you whispered to him countless nights ago.

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel a mix of anticipation and excitement bubbling within you. You know that Daemon is a man of passion and intensity, and tonight, he intends to leave his mark on you in more ways than one.

Daemon's eyes flicker with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness as he watches you fidget and nervously avoid his gaze.

He reaches out, his hand gently caressing your cheek before trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His touch is both tender and possessive, a contrast that only adds to the intensity of the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your nightgown, slowly lifting it up, revealing your body to him in all its vulnerability.

You feel the mattress give way as Daemon kneels on the bed. You look up and your purple Targaryen eyes meet. A gasp leaves your lips as his hand brushes across your thigh, gently grasping the underside of it and spreading your thighs slightly - his rough hand, a stark contrast to your soft skin. His other hand slides to your face, his index finger and thumb cupping your chin, lifting your head slightly.

"Look at me... focus on me..." he whispers and you nod slightly as you look into his eyes. Carefully, he pushes your legs apart as he kneels between them. His lips glide over your cheek, over your neck, while his hand slides further up your thigh.

Your eyes flutter shut as you concentrate fully on his touch. His warm breath glides over your skin as his lips caress you. The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers grip your inner thigh.

"That's my girl... concentrate on my touch..." he whispers against your skin. You nod slightly again and gasp as his fingers cup your folds - you'll never get tired of this feeling. Slowly, his fingers move, smearing the wetness along your folds. His fingers find your sensitive bud, light circular movements follow and as if of their own accord your hips move to follow their movement.

Daemon follows your movements, sliding his fingers to your soaked opening, applying light pressure. His fingertips are literally sucked in and a mewling sound comes from your lips. You exhale heavily, his fingers thrust deeper, your eyes still closed.

Daemon's lips curl into a smug smile as he watches your reactions, relishing in the way you respond to his touch. He takes pleasure in knowing that he can easily bring you to the edge with just his fingers alone.

His fingers continue their exploration, sliding in and out of your wetness, gradually increasing the depth and pace of his thrusts. He watches as your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you.

"You're so wet... I don't even really need to work to get inside you," Daemon murmurs and you blush slightly, but your moans don't let up.

"Open your eyes" he whispers, "I want you to watch as I prepare you for me. See how wet and ready you are for my cock."

As you obey again, your eyes meeting his, Daemon's fingers quicken their pace, delving deeper into your core. He revels in the way your breath hitches, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're ready for me, aren't you? You want my cock inside you, filling you completely."

You blush even more - you know that Daemon loves to fill your mind with filthy words. Even if they have the desired effect on you, you can't help but blush.

But suddenly you feel him pull his fingers out of you and a soft whimper leaves you. You feel your nerves again as you look down and see him pulling down his undergarments. You've seen his manhood many times before, on the nights he's visited you - but this is different.

His length is released and you gasp slightly - it's never seemed so big to you, so thick. His hand slides along his throbbing length and you hear him grunt slightly.

"Daemon... this... this won't fit..." you suddenly whisper nervously and your hand slides to his arm.

Daemon smiles, still pumping his hardness.

"Hey... look at me," he whispers again and you look up. But then he kisses you, wrapping his lips around yours, swallowing your doubts.

The kiss is filled with a hunger that ignites a fire deep within you. His hand roams your body, claiming every inch, as if marking you as his territory. The intensity of his touch, the way he dominates your senses, leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"It will fit... we will make it fit... It will hurt at first, but the reward will be all the better," he whispers against your lips. You can't help but nod as he slides the tip of his hardness through your folds.

Your eyes flutter shut and you inhale sharply. Your fingers dig into his skin as his length presses against your pearl. Again your hips move towards him, seeking more of that touch.

Daemon looks down, between your bodies, watching closely as your wetness and his precum mingle. His growl echoes through the chambers. You concentrate fully on the sensation as he guides its length to your entrance.

Slowly he pushes forward and you feel the pressure as his manhood tries to penetrate you. A slight whimper leaves you as your heat envelops his tip. He growls slightly, senses your tightness and starts to move slowly.

"You're doing great..." he whispers in your ear, gently kissing your cheek as he pushes further. You feel the pressure, biting your lip as he impales you on his hot length. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, is overwhelming. Your walls clench around him, trying to accommodate to his size. Daemon's pace is slow and deliberate, relishing in the tightness and warmth of your core.

But Daemon still feels a lot of resistance, he's nowhere near all the way in yet.

"Love... it's going to hurt for a moment now... but it has to be," he whispers and your eyes open again, looking at him. You whimper, but you nod slightly. He leans his forehead against yours, lets his nose slide gently along yours before kissing you softly again. His rhythmic movements don't let up as his tongue searches for yours and you moan slightly.

When suddenly he thrusts and you cry out as the sharp pain runs through your abdomen. He swallows your cry, his hand on your hip as his thick length works you open. "Uncle Daemon..." you whimper into his mouth as he slides in and out.

"I know..." he whispers, but he keeps moving. The pain slowly subsides. Your cunt, clenching around his cock in protest, slowly gives way. He feels the fluttering of your walls and closes his eyes briefly.

"Gods you feel so good," he growls. Slight mewling sounds leave your lips as your hips begin to move with him. He smiles at you, "That's my girl," he whispers a little breathlessly as his hips move faster. He can feel you soaking his cock, your pleasure increasing, and it spurs him on.

His thrusts get harder as he tries to bury himself completely inside you. He revels in the feeling of your tightness around him, the way you yield to his every thrust. Moans escape you now as your hands grip his upper arms. His hand still on your hip, holding you in place.

He watches your face, observing every flicker of pleasure that crosses your features. His grip tightens on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, marking you as his.

"You're so tight, so wet," his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. "You were made for me... Made to be filled by me," he grunts as he feels the tight grip of your cunt.

You are completely overwhelmed by the sensation as your cunt is fully stretched. You feel his balls slapping against you with every thrust and you whimper. His grunts echo through your chambers as he feels the continuous spasming of your wet walls. His eyes drift down again, seeing his glistening length disappear into your perfect womanhood again and again - the moment he's been waiting for so long, finally fulfilled.

He looks at your face again, sensing your impending climax - your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted as you try to follow his movements. Your noises a mixture of moans and whimpers. His hand slides to your abdomen, pressing lightly against it. He wants to feel his hot length sliding into you, bringing you to climax.

His thumb begins to tease your bud as he thrusts harder and faster into you. You cry out slightly, but you can feel the pressure in your abdomen. Your fingernails dig deeper into his skin as he pumps in and out, his thumb rubbing faster.

"Come for me... Soak my cock, suck up my seed..." he growls in your ear and you moan again. You open your eyes and look into his - blown wide with lust.

As your climax approaches, Daemon's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more powerful. He can feel the walls of your core tightening around him, signaling your imminent release.

With one final powerful thrust, he plunges deep within you, his cock pulsating as he finds his own release. The sensation of him emptying himself inside you pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You moan out, your walls milk his cock and he grunts loudly. He watches your face contort with pleasure as moan after moan leaves your lips while your warm walls spasm around him. He's never seen anything so perfect - you're finally his.

He leans down, kisses you, swallows your moans of pleasure.  His hips move more slowly as you come sliding back to reality from the veil of lust.

When his movements slow down completely, he releases the kiss. You can still feel him inside you, his nose slides gently along yours, you see him smile slightly.

"Are you all right?" he whispers a little breathlessly. You just nod and a breathless "Okay," leaves his lips. You whimper slightly in protest as he slowly pulls out of you. His length glistening with a mixture of your fluids. He watches you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction, before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

In this moment, there is no one else but the two of you, lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Your bodies are entwined, your souls connected in a way that words cannot describe.

Your heavy breathing echoes in your chambers as he slowly releases the kiss, his gaze travelling down your body as he leans back.

His gaze is fixed on your womanhood and you feel something unfamiliar dripping out of you. Your hand instinctively wants to slide between your legs, but you only notice a slight shake of his head before he stops your hand. His other hand slides to your folds and slowly he pushes his fingers inside you, but you are overstimulated, your hips jerk back slightly.

"Don't," he whispers, "My seed must stay inside you.... I want a perfect heir to grow inside you"

You blush slightly, but his fingers slowly slide inside you, pushing the seed deeper inside you. Your eyes flutter shut slightly as you surrender to this feeling.

Daemon's eyes darken with possessiveness as he watches your reactions, his fingers still buried deep inside you. He can feel the wetness and warmth around his digits, evidence of the pleasure he has brought you. The thought of his seed filling you, the possibility of creating an heir, sends a surge of pride through him.

His thumb brushes against your sensitive pearl, eliciting a shudder from your body. He can sense your sensitivity, the overstimulation that threatens to overwhelm you. But he doesn't stop, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your pleasure.

"You're mine… My dragoness" he murmurs, his voice low and almost commanding. "And I will fill you with my seed until you bear me a child. You will be the mother of my heir“

Daemon watches you, his fingers still buried deep inside you. His fingers move faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. He can feel the tension building within you, your body on the precipice of another climax. He wants to take you there, to see you come undone in his arms once more.

As the waves of pleasure begin to build once again, you can feel his fingers curling inside you, hitting that sweet spot that sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your body. It's almost too much to bear, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

And as your moans fill the air, your body convulsing around his fingers, he knows he has succeeded. He watches with satisfaction as your pleasure washes over you, your walls clenching around his fingers. In his mind, your precious womb sucks up his seed with every contraction.

Finally he slowly pulls his fingers out of you – a mixture of his seed and your arousal covers his fingers. He smiles and collapses next to you on the bed, his breathing still heavy and laboured.

He looks at you, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. You smile almost shyly before his arm wraps around your middle and pulls you closer. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. His fingers glide gently over your abdomen as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear - your heavy breathing and light giggles fill the air.

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[houseofyax]

The Casting BTS ✨

[daenysthedreamer101]

HOTD in colors - WHITE

masterlist

[averillaratargaryen]

‘The Bitter Bond.’

Chapter XXXIV

“It was a pleasure, to host both of you” Lord Jason Lannister spoke, with a nervous smile, “i suppose this will mean you put a good word in for me, to her Grace?”

“I can try” Aemond shrugs, “but i can not say she is fond of you.”

“Oh-?” Lord Jason Lannister’s smile had quietly faded when he had realised what the young Prince had implied on.

“Aemond?” Daerlyssa called out.

Turning his head around, he let out a smile, “my love.”

Turning back around to face Lord Lannister, Aemond had come across questionable eyes.

“I sense a slight.. glow, in the two of you” Lord Lannister points out, “the Princess seemed a little dim.”

“That is my wife, you speak of” Aemond responded.

“I’m sorry?” Lord Lannister’s eyes widened in confusion.

Aemond let out a simple smirk, as he shook his head in disapproval, “count yourself lucky that she is need of you, Lannister.”

“Aemond, we should get going now” Daerlyssa, having no clue of what the two men were discussing about, had chimed in.

Before Lord Jason could speak another word, Aemond had already turned away, striding forward to his wife as he took her hand, walking beside.

…

It was only a day, that Aemond and Daerlyssa had returned back to Dragonstone on Dragonback, their men already headed to Kingslanding.

Daerlyssa was sat within her chamber, pen in her hand as she began writing down, a raven in progress to the King consort, her father.

“Princess” she was called out by Ser Simon, having her look up from the raven she was supposedly preparing, “Prince Daeron calls for you.”

“Prince Daeron?” Daerlyssa responded in question, standing up slowly.

“He awaits your arrival upfront the castle, beside his men” Ser Simon responds, “Prince Aemond has already been informed.”

Daerlyssa nods, with slight worry, before she makes her way out, and down the spiral steps of the castle, where Aemond waited for her, stood at the bottom.

“Your brother?” Daerlyssa asks.

“So I have heard” Aemond responds, “you should stay inside. He is my brother, i will respond.”

“Who has he called for?” Daerlyssa asks.

Aemond turns to Ser Simon, who had cleared his throat before he spoke, “he had called upon you, Princess.”

“What could he possibly want from you?” Aemond asks.

“We are to find out” Daerlyssa responds, walking ahead.

“Daerlyssa” Aemond called out, holding her hand to stop her from walking ahead.

“It is me, who he has called upon” Daerlyssa responds, “if i stay back and let you take this, I will be seen as weak.”

“It is not being seen as weak, it is about your protection. The Hightowers have already hurt you once” Aemond responds.

“So stand beside me” Daerlyssa looked at him with certainty, giving him a small nod.

-

Meeting halfway, amongst the bridge, Daerlyssa had walked ahead, Aemond following behind before coming face to face with the long lost Prince.

“You must be Daeron” Daerlyssa had called out to him, looking forward at the blonde haired man, his hair covering his hooded eyes.

“And you must be my niece, who everyone speaks of” Daeron responds, “your beauty is as they say it is.”

“I am flattered” Daerlyssa, despite not being as flattered as she portrayed, turned her head to face Aemond who took a step forward beside her.

“Brother” Daeron called out.

“Daeron” Aemond responded.

“A traitor to his own house” Daeron responded.

“My house is the house of the Dragon, as I remember very well. Yet it seems you have forgotten” Aemond responds, taking another step forward, now placing Daerlyssa behind him.

Daeron chuckled, shaking his head.

“Your men killed our brother” Aemond responded.

“Whilst you were in celebration with the usurper and her bastard son” Daeron responds, “they killed our grandfather, and still you side with them?”

“He had committed act of treason, only he is to blame for his death” Aemond responds.

“So you’d have your grandfather killed for some.. girl?” Daeron asks, pointing to Daerlyssa.

“She is not just some girl, Daeron” Aemond responded, his steps getting closer and closer to his brother.

“Do you have any idea what her father has done to us? To our house? He kills our men, beheaded them, all for children to bear witness” Daeron scoffed, noticing his brother’s cold demeanour.

“And what of your men? What they did to my wife, what of that?” Aemond questions.

“Aemond” Daerlyssa spoke in a low voice, not wishing for any conflict to arise.

But it seems Daeron had gotten far too under his skin.

“Your wife?” Daeron chuckled, “it is no wonder you have become so weak.”

“Weak?” Aemond asks.

“You are next in line, for the throne Aemond. Yet you threw it all away, just for being in love with some girl-!”

“I told you she is not just some girl, Daeron” Aemond responded with calmness, despite his brother’s outburst, “she is my wife. The throne is our sister’s birthright, as our father had named her his heir.”

“Until a son was born. Three sons were born!” Daeron shouted back.

“And yet he did not waver or change his mind in that decision. He wanted Rhaenyra to sit that throne, there has been no usurpation” Aemond responded.

“Then this is it” Daeron nods, “instead of taking your place, having her bend the knee to you-!”

As Daeron pointed to Daerlyssa once again, Aemond held his jaw tightly, pushing him back.

“Aemond, let him go” Daerlyssa pleaded, noticing all the swords being held up in his direction.

“I shall have you, and your men, all burnt to crisp, if you do not turn around and go back” Aemond warns his brother.

Pushing Daeron’s head to one side, Aemond’s hand had slipped off his jaw.

He had turned around, finding the look of Daerlyssa’s worry, as he approached her once again.

Taking her hand, he let out a soft smile, to let her know that she was okay. That it was him, who would protect her.

-

“Aemond” Daerlyssa sighed as the two were left to their chamber, Ser Simon closing the door behind the two.

“He deserved more” Aemond responded, knowing her sigh was as of disappointment.

“I understand-?”

“He sides with them? Them!” Aemond scoffed, “they killed Aegon, and still-!” He let out a hysteric laugh.

“I know” Daerlyssa responds, “but he is your brother, Aemond.”

“My brother would not support those who have our blood on their hands” Aemond sat down, calming himself before her.

“He was bought up by your grandfather. By those men, it is why he holds such loyalty. It is why you hold loyalty towards Aegon” Daerlyssa sat beside him.

Aemond had turned to face her, as she gave him a soft smile, a gesture of understanding when she held his hand.

“Aegon was your older brother. He looked after both you, and Helena, which is why you are all closely bonded to one another. Daeron did not have that, so he would not understand that loyalty” Daerlyssa explains.

Aemond nodded, understanding her point of view. Yet he still could not understand her worry.

“What is it?” He asks.

Daerlyssa let out a soft hm in question, not understanding what he had meant.

“What is it that worries you?” Aemond asks.

“You” Daerlyssa responds.

“Me?” Aemond asks, his voice softening the minute he heard her confess.

“Your anger, Aemond. It worries me” Daerlyssa responds, “you are angry. And for the right reasons. But anger consumes you in the worst ways, and I’m afraid that you will change. That you will become a person that you should not be.”

“Daerlyssa..” Aemond spoke out.

“It is a war. I know. I know that you must fight, head first, but I do not wish to lose you. Not mentally. Not physically” Daerlyssa responds.

“And you will not” softly, he held his hand towards her cheek, cradling it with all his might, “my anger is never towards you. You are the reason I am a changed person, the last thing I’d wish upon you is anger.”

Daerlyssa nods in response.

“I will never hurt you, as much as I will never let anyone hurt you, Daerlyssa” he whispered, “I’d let the world burn, for you.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[pygmyharmoset]

When the pile of clothes on the chair in the corner starts looking suspiciously person-shaped in the dark:

[sekikotakagi]

I just still thinking how beautiful every reunion of them was. My Valyrian-Roman empire.

[princessfantaghiro]

😅

Can you imagine what Jace saw living in Dragonstone with these two? Haha, poor boy.

Draw for ackerbangbang

[ladylokianna]

Spoiler: he usually orders a diavola (devil pizza) with extra spicy chilli peppers and a hint of 'nduja spicy sausage.

[miss-carter]

MILLY ALCOCK feat. MATT SMITH The House that Dragons Built (2024)

[calmingmelody96]

The Dragon's Niece

Chapter 6 - The Dragon's Return

Warnings: medival sexism, forced marriage, uncle-niece incest

Masterlist

Daemon's journey back to King's Landing had been long and tiresome, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as the city finally came into view.

After all these years, he was finally returning home — a home that felt both familiar and foreign. He had changed, matured, and grown, not the same impulsive young man who had been banished from the city he loved so much.  The trials of war in the Stepstones had forged him into a seasoned warrior, a man who now carried the weight of victory on his shoulders. His triumph in the conflict against the Free Cities had earned him a begrudging respect, and ultimately, his brother's forgiveness.

With a determined look on his face, Daemon crossed the gates, entering the bustling streets of the capital. The people eyed him like a foreigner, whispering to each other about the return of the Rogue Prince. Some looked upon him as a hero, while others viewed him as a man with a tarnished past.

As he moved through the crowded streets, Daemon made his way towards the Red Keep. The familiar sight of its towering spires and crimson walls brought back countless memories of his past.

Despite the change in his appearance - he was more muscular, his hair cut short, and a determined look in his eyes - there was no mistaking who he was.

Soon, he reached the front gates of the castle. The guards on duty exchanged uncertain glances, recognizing his face and yet unsure of how to react.

The guards glanced at each other again, then back at Daemon. Finally, after a moment of silent discussion amongst themselves, one of them moved to open the gates, the metal creaking loudly as the large doors slowly swung open.

As the gates parted, Daemon let out a small exhale, a mixture of relief and anticipation. He was finally back home. 

Daemon entered the Red Keep, his footsteps echoing through the stone corridors. The familiar smell of the castle filled his nostrils, like a comforting embrace.

He made his way through the labyrinthine halls, his heart pounding in his chest with every step. He had been away for seven long years, and there were so many questions swirling around in his head. What had his brother done during his absence? How had the politics of the realm shifted? And most importantly, how had his beloved niece fared...?

Daemon's thoughts darkened as he recalled the news of Viserys' marriage to Alicent Hightower, daughter of that wretched man. The alliance reeked of political maneuvering, a union that made Daemon's blood boil. Otto Hightower, with his scheming and insatiable ambition, had woven himself deeper into the Targaryen court, and the thought of his brother marrying into such a treacherous family filled Daemon with disdain. How could Viserys allow himself to be shackled by the very man who had orchestrated so much turmoil in their lives?

Finally, he turned a corner, and there in front of him was the throne room doors.

Daemon paused for a moment, taking in the sight of the large wooden doors. Beyond them was the Iron Throne, the very symbol of his family's power and authority. It was a throne that had claimed many lives and broken many hearts—a throne that had once belonged to his ancestors.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do.

Taking a deep breath, Daemon pushed the doors open with a loud creak, revealing the vast throne room. The space was adorned with banners and tapestries, reflecting the strength and legacy of House Targaryen. And there, upon the cold throne, sat his brother—Viserys—who surprisingly looked rather happy to see him.

After greating his brother and some small talk he returned to his chambers to bathe and take a little rest before the feast. His brother informed him of a grand celebration planned for the evening, a feast dedicated to Daemon’s safe return after seven years of exile as well as his magnificent victory in StepStones. He hadn’t expected such an honor from his brother, especially after everything that had transpired.

Finally it was time for the feast and he was in great anticipation to see a special someone. His niece. The reason of his excile and suffering. The little girl he sullied and ruined exactly seven years ago. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss her. And finally tonight he'd see her beautiful face. He wondered what she looked like now. She was a girl of fifteen when he left and he was twenty-nine. Now she is twenty-two and he couldn't stop imagining and portraying her face in his mind. 

However the reunion wasn't at all what he expected. Seeing her after seven long years was painful. As he stepped into the throne room, Daemon suddenly froze in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat. A woman sat there, her frame small and slender - a woman of grace and beauty. But it was not just any woman. It was the girl he once knew. The one he had been forced to leave behind. Now a woman... and a married one, at that. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind as he took in her appearance. She looked radiant, beautiful in her own way. Her face was more mature, her figure fuller, more feminine. But he was too late...

Daemon almost felt sick at the sight of her next to her husband... Gwayne Hightower, son of the man he hated with burning rage. The first time he heard the news about her marriage to the Hightower, he thought it to be some kind of a rumour, he didn't believe it or rather didn't wanna believe it. But now the proof was right in front of his eyes. He couldn't deny the reality. 

Of course, he knew about the schemes and plans of Otto Hightower. But for Viserys to give her away like that. His first-born daughter to this old snake's stupid son...

Suddenly something else caught his attention, something more intruiging.  A small boy standing next to her. It was his bright silver hair that caught Daemon's attention, his hair brighter than hers, way brighter. Almost as bright as his...

A boy. Who bears no resemblance to her lord husband. A boy who looked so painfully like himself...

Seven years ago, that night... when he came to her. Drunk and needy. It was so easy to manipulate her and claim her maidenhead; she was too young and innocent then. And he always craved her, burned with the fire of desire, desire to make her his, completely his. But his brother wouldn't allow it. So he thought of another way, a dirty, nasty way to bind her to him.

A painful lump formed in his throat as he stood there and watched her son tug at the flowing sleeve of her dress.

Daemon ignored everyone in the feast. Nothing and no one seemed interesting anymore. He just wanted to be alone with her, to speak with her... But of course, her lord husband did not leave her side.

As her little boy whined and complained about something, she leaned down planting a kiss on top of his brow and whispering something to his ear. She looked so warm and motherly. Seeing her with his son like this made something stir inside Daemon.

The sight of his son in her arms, or more precisely, his own son, who should have been in his arms - made Daemon feel a strange pang in his chest.

She should be his, he thinks, both of them. But he was an irresponsible coward who ran away when she needed him the most.

He knew it was his fault that she married Gwayne Hightower and now she was stuck in a loveless, passionless marriage, bound to that stupid idiot.

Daemon's eyes darkened with anger.

Soon Gwayne joined his and her father and left as she stayed there with her son.

When she was finally left alone, Daemon allowed himself a long sigh. He stared at her and her son for a few more moments before he finally stepped toward them.

"Niece. Can I speak to you for a moment? In private?"

♥️❥♡❦♥️❦♡❥♥️♥️❥♡❦♥️❦♡❥♥️♥️❥♡❦♥️❦♡❥♥️♥️❥♡❦♥️❦

End Notes: Thank you so much for reading! 💖 Special big thanks to @paulyenvol6 for proof reading! :) Please let me know about your thoughts. What do you think will happen? How do you think she will react to him? And most importantly, do you think that the little boy he saw is really his son? Let me know in the comments please! <3

[happilyhertale]

😏😏

I am always happy to help!!!

Heir to the throne - Daemon Targaryen x niece!reader

Summary: You and your uncle Daemon have a somewhat sullen relationship. Daemon thinks you are weak. And you think he is insufferable and manipulative. But how long can you resist your growing affection for him?

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Hey you (:

A one-shot Daemon story requested by @dreamlandcreations 🖤 I hope you like it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 5.5 k

Other stories of mine

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As the day of your birth dawned, the enchanting chimes of Kings Landing echoed through the city, filling the air with a symphony of celebration. All the people of the realm witnessed your arrival on this earth. As the beloved first-born daughter of King Viserys and his beloved Queen Aemma, it was well known that your father longed for a son. But your father's deep love for you surpassed all pre-determined expectations.

When your mother's womb was filled with new life again, you were still a child yourself, and the anticipation of the arrival of a male heir to stride through the royal halls grew. But fate had other plans, and your sister Rhaenyra graced the world with her presence. From the moment she entered this realm, an unbreakable bond formed between the two of you. Despite Rhaenyra's temperamental nature, you found harmony in each other's company.

During your childhood together, mischievous pranks became part of your playful repertoire, often driving others to despair. While you found solace in the art of needlework and the treasures of old books in the library, Rhaenyra could always be found in the exercise yard, rolling in the earth and eagerly keeping pace with the boys of the court. But you, too, actually took part in such pursuits and proved that your wild spirit burns just as brightly. Countless times you stood by Rhaenyra's side, defending her against the taunts of those who mocked her only because she was a girl. Together, fearlessly and with combined strength, you unceremoniously threw those who dared to challenge you into the dirt.

Yet the longing for a male heir consumed your father Viserys' heart and overshadowed the vibrant love between your parents. Your mother, despite her best efforts, was tired and exhausted after mourning a dead child in the cradle, suffering two stillbirths and two heartbreaking miscarriages. But a glimmer of hope emerged when she became pregnant again, sparking the anticipation of a long-awaited male successor. Even you and Rhaenyra held on to that hope, for you were reluctant to take on the burden of ruling a kingdom. The duties and benefits of being a princess gave you both far more pleasure. But this pregnancy weighed heavily on your mother, sapping her vitality with each passing day. The signs were obvious to you, for she rarely ventured out of her bath anymore.

You and Rhaenyra started spending a few moments together in bed in the evenings at that time. You had numerous conversations ranging from trivia to the prevailing topic of your mother and her exhausting pregnancy. It was during these intimate exchanges that your fear of childbirth was really ignited.

This fear was only fuelled when your mother died in childbirth. Your mother's untimely passing at the birth of the long-awaited male heir shook you and Rhaenyra to the core. But in the midst of the pain, there was a surprising turn of events when your father called you to him. The seriousness that showed on his face set the tone as you and Rhaenyra stood before King Viserys, waiting for his words.

In a calm and serious tone, he unravelled the story of the Song of Ice and Fire and tied together the threads of the prophetic vision of Aegon the Conqueror. As his hopeful gaze fell upon you, a feeling of trepidation crept over you, for you did not know what he was up to. Your father was trying to divert the succession by preferring you to your uncle Daemon and longing for you to ascend the throne. There was silence in the air, broken only by Rhaenyra's radiant smile. But you shook your head resolutely and refused the iron throne that awaited you. And so the path took its course, granting Rhaenyra her rightful place as heir to the throne.

But what you and Rhaenyra also shared was the joyful anticipation that shot through your veins every time your uncle Daemon visited King's Landing. The moment Caraxes appeared in the sky, your heart beat faster and you quickly made your way to the dragon pit. Hastily you traversed the corridors, longing to catch even a glimpse of your beloved uncle. Gasping for breath, you reached the entrance of the dragon pit and waited patiently for his arrival. It wasn't long before Rhaenyra was at your side, waiting as well. And whenever Daemon finally appeared, a radiant smile lit up both your faces.

Without hesitation, you both sprinted towards him, and with effortless strength, he lifted you both up in his arms and carried you towards the keep. Enchanted, you listened to his every word and listened to tales of epic battles and distant lands he had travelled. But over time, things changed. You grew more mature, older and wiser.

Although you still hold your uncle in high esteem, a bittersweet ambivalence stirs within you. You still enjoyed listening to his stories, even if you feigned a certain disinterest. But his shadowy deeds, which always resonated in the depths of your consciousness, repelled you. The same was true of your uncle. He held you in high esteem, considered you his niece and vowed to protect you from the horrors of this world should he have the power to do so. However, he considered you weak, much like your father, King Viserys. It was Rhaenyra, spirited and rebellious, who attracted his affections more. But such things were of no consequence to you. Gaining his attention was not attractive, at least you kept whispering this to yourself.

One day, the whispers of the servants echoed ceaselessly through the air, like a delicate melody. The news was full of excitement - a vibrant festival was to fill the humble streets of Flea Bottom. Enchanting attractions and captivating performers would parade through the avenues, enthralling all who gathered with their enchanting talents. Naturally, your curiosity was piqued, for it had been far too long since you had joined Rhaenyra on a journey through the secret passages of the keep.

As evening fell and dinner drew to a close, you retired to your chambers. Secretly you dressed in the humble attire of the servants and carefully donned a cloak with a hood that concealed your shining silver locks. With great determination, you approached what appeared to be an ordinary wall in your chambers and exerted a gentle but purposeful push. The wall that obeyed your touch gives way, revealing a hidden passageway that lies beyond. A tingle of anticipation flows through you as you enter the hidden passageways and the familiar excitement within you flares up again.

As you arrive in front of the massive keep, you stare upwards, fascinated by the towering walls that seem almost frightening. Relief washes over you, for you knew that tonight you would escape the confines of this fortress and enjoy the freedom that awaited you. Your path leads you unwaveringly to Flea Bottom, a thriving tapestry of life and pleasure. The narrow streets were teeming with happy people, the air was filled with animated conversation and joyous laughter.

At every corner, artists adorned the bustling scene, showing off their talents and attracting the attention of passers-by. The fascination of it all takes hold of you as your gaze wanders upwards to witness a daredevil performer gracefully crossing a taut rope between two old walls. A melodious laugh escapes your lips, evidence of the sheer wonder and enchantment that has captivated you.

The lure of this uncomplicated existence is undeniably great. What is even more enticing is the anonymity it gives you. Here your hair remains unseen, the darkness hides you from prying eyes. Your purple eyes go unnoticed like a hidden gem. You are no princess, but just an ordinary soul among them.

A woman gracefully hands you a glass of wine and a smile graces your lips in response. As you sip the wine, she leads you into the crowd of dancing people. In the square, musicians serenade and enchant those who sway to their melodies. You find yourself in the midst of the cheering crowd, laughing and twirling in blissful abandon. You spill a little wine but pay no attention to the fleeting mishap. Your hood slips briefly, but you deftly straighten it again, preserving your disguise.

But as you turn around briskly, a sudden shock of surprise passes through you. Standing before you is your uncle, Daemon, wrapped in his own cloak.

"Uncle!" you say, startled. Your eyes are wide and you stop abruptly. You are breathing heavily from all your dancing.

But he only grins at you.

"Well, well... What is our little princess doing here?" he asks you.

You clear your throat slightly, "Well... I just wanted to enjoy the festivities," you say softly.

He smiles at you, "I could see that," he grins at you.

"So you're interested in the festivities? And you even sneak out of the keep to do it?" he asks you.

You look at him, "Does that surprise you?" you ask him in return.

He shrugs slightly, "Let's put it this way, I didn't expect it"

He looks at you with a look you can't quite place. Your cheeks flush slightly and you look to the side.

"Well... I have to go, take care princess," he says with a slight grin and continues walking.

You are left a little irritated.

The next day you learn that Rhaenyra was in a brothel with Daemon and you are shocked. You met Daemon on the streets of Flea Bottom, he must have gone straight to a brothel afterwards... When you hear this, you immediately go in search of Rhaenyra.

When you find her, she is standing talking to Ser Criston.

"Rhaenyra," you say, and she responds with a smile.

"Can we talk for a moment?" you ask her.

Ser Criston steps away from you.

When you are alone, you look at her.

"You were in a brothel with Uncle Daemon?" you ask her.

Her eyes grow wide.

"How do you know about that?" she asks you, horrified.

"Well... secrets don't stay secrets here for long... Especially when two silver-haired people visit a brothel," you say.

She swallows visibly.

"So it's true?" you ask her.

She grabs your arm, "He didn't take my maidenhead, I swear," she says to you.

"But how can you be so careless as to go to a brothel with him?" you ask her.

"Do you know what will happen if this gets out?" you ask her further, "Your reputation will be ruined!"

She bites her lip nervously.

"It won't come out... and if it does...I didn't lose my maidenhead to him," she says softly.

But after your father finds out about it, he is furious. He has Daemon brought to him.

"Give me Rhaenyra to take to wife and we will return the House of the Dragon to its proper glory"

There is a brief silence in the throne room as Daemon speaks the words and lies hungover on the floor.

Viserys kneels over him, "Of course... It's not my daughter you lust for, is it?"

He presses the blade a little more against Daemon's neck, "It's my throne"

Daemon grins just slightly.

"You can take her as your wife... But she will no longer be heir to the throne. I will make y/n heir to the throne. Rhaenyra is no longer pure, too wild to rule a kingdom... Hoping that you cannot corrupt y/n, " Viserys finally says.

Daemon gets angry, "You can't do that!"

Viserys stands up, "You'll see what I can do"

And in a moment that seemed to stand the test of time, your father, in a grand production, announced to the realm that you were the rightful heir to the throne. He justifies this monumental decision by acknowledging that he should have recognised your esteemed position as elder sister from the beginning. Deep down, however, both you and Rhaenyra understand the motivations behind this decision, but the revelation leaves you stunned and unprepared. The thought of assuming the role of queen does not suit your heart's desires, but your father, determined and weary of all stormy arguments, rejects all arguments.

The kingdom is in an uproar, and King Viserys hosts an extravagant ball to celebrate this turning point. With unwavering courage, you step into the limelight, knowing that all eyes will be on you all night and your every move will be closely watched. Countless lords vie for your attention, eager to capture your gaze. You, now the embodiment of attraction, become the most desired woman in the realm, igniting ardent desire from all corners. In the midst of this whirlwind, you find a moment of calm, enjoying a sip of wine in solitude, only to be startled by the sudden appearance of your uncle at your side.

"Niece," he says in greeting.

You look over at him slightly and then drink some more of your wine.

"Uncle," you say back.

After a while his voice resounds, "So you are now heir to the throne"

You nod slightly, "I guess that's right," you say.

He smiles slightly, "You don't seem very pleased about it"

You snort slightly, "Well... if you hadn't taken your other niece to a brothel and started rumours about her virtue... Then I wouldn't have to be here," you say.

"So you're not pleased?" he asks you.

You just look at him.

"Why... Why are you taking her to a brothel in the first place? It's irresponsible and immoral," you say.

"'Excuse me... My highly moral niece... but if we are honest, was I ever moral?" he asks you.

You snort again and he looks at you.

"You were out in Flea Bottom yourself...," he finally replies, but you interrupt him.

"... but I didn't go to a brothel!" you say.

He watches you for a moment.

"I had to take Rhaenyra there... I had to show her... To show her what it means to make political decisions… to fulfil duties and also to accept and live out personal preferences," he tells you.

You shake your head slightly, "You can't think of anything better than taking your niece to your brothel?"

You drink from your wine and look out into the crowd again.

He looks at you, a slight smile curling his lips.

"You wish I had gone to the brothel with you?" he asks suddenly.

You choke on your wine.

"Excuse me?" you ask him.

He grins now, "You wish I had chosen you. When I met you on the streets of Flea Bottom... You wish I had taken you by the hand and..."

But you interrupt him.

"What? No! Of course not!" you say to him, but your cheeks blush slightly.

He just grins even more, "Well... If I had known that your father would now install you as heir to the throne... Then I wouldn't have deprived you of this lesson," he says with the same grin on his face.

"Stop it!" you hiss.

"I have no interest in going to a filthy brothel with you," you say to him and you feel the anger rising inside you.

"Well... we don't have to go to a brothel either... I can teach you this lesson in a soft bed," his eyes sparkle as he says this to you.

You just look at him.

"Do you always have to be like this? So manipulative? Maybe you should stop trying to corrupt your brother's daughters... At some point there won't be any children left to succeed to the throne... Or is that what you want? So that you can be named heir to the throne again?" you say to him.

Daemon's gaze darkens, but you simply step away from him.

You leave the ball. You quickly try to put a great distance between you and Daemon. You don't know what it is, but the thought of being in a brothel with Daemon stirs something in you. But you quickly move on towards your chambers.

As the morning light wakes you and you step out of your chambers after your morning routine, a bittersweet realisation comes to you - Daemon has once again left King's Landing.

But in the midst of this recurring absence, a new responsibility now weighs on your shoulders and demands your attention. Your father, concerned for your future, keeps dropping hints about potential suitors who might be worthy of you. Some of these suggestions make you recoil in horror, as they are unfamiliar names of lords you have never heard of. Others, with some logic, sound like good partners. But one name keeps coming up - Laenor Velaryon. Laenor, a kind-hearted soul, would guarantee you a respectful marriage. But deep inside you long for a marriage that promises more than a husband who prefers to spend his free time in the company of other men.

While King Viserys wants to leave the final decision to you, he nevertheless tries in his own discreet way to win your heart for this union. Inwardly, you cannot help but envy Rhaenyra, who now enjoys the freedom of choice, unaffected by the burden of political affairs. Yet you are taken aback when she too suddenly expresses her desire for an engagement. Ser Harwin's proposal to marry her is announced by your father, and the glow on Rhaenyra's lips betrays her joy. After much deliberation, your father has given his consent to this betrothal, sealing the path Rhaenyra will take.

Preparations for Rhaenyra's wedding are in full swing, putting an enchanting aura in the air. Although Rhaenyra is no longer heir to the throne, no expense or effort is spared to ensure a magnificent wedding. While you are busy with your own new tasks, you are all the more surprised when your sister's wedding is suddenly only a few days away.

The capital city is welcoming an influx of distinguished guests, with unfamiliar faces packing the halls. Amidst this swirl, fate once again crosses your path with Laenor. Warm greetings are exchanged, and in the absence of your father's watchful presence, you are indeed able to engage in pleasant conversation. Unfortunately, your father never fails to highlight Laenor's presence whenever he can.

On the auspicious day of the wedding, there is a grand ball where wine flows copiously, instilling in you a sense of calm. This makes it a little easier to bear your father's insistent insistence that you dance with Laenor. Your gaze, however, inevitably wanders to Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin, who always wear beaming smiles on their lips. Genuine joy fills your heart for them.

Suddenly a murmur goes through the crowd, growing louder with each passing moment. As you look up from your seat at the head table, you catch sight of the entrance of your uncle, who has been absent throughout the ceremony. Surprised, but not completely taken aback, it seems only logical that he naturally needs to make a special appearance. He exudes an undeniable charm as he strides into the hall, his lips curved into a subtle smile. Your eyes meet briefly, and you detect a hint of mirth in his eyes. Hastily, you avert your gaze and seek refuge in the depths of your wine glass.

Daemon makes his way to Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin and offers them his congratulations before gracefully walking around the table. Finally, he settles across from you. As you avoid his gaze, your attention is abruptly taken by your father, who suddenly stands before you. A smile graces your face as you lift your gaze to meet him, only to lose it again when you see Laenor standing beside your father.

"Y/n. I thought you were going to show Laenor your new dancing skills?" your father asks you.

You smile, "Where do you keep getting these ideas from?," you mumble.

But gracefully you rise from your seat and put on a gentle smile, as if the weight of the world is light on your shoulders. Together with Laenor, you glide to the dance floor, a harmonious couple amidst the lively atmosphere. Laenor, a skilful dance partner, engages you in pleasant conversation. But his presence does not arouse any feelings beyond the warmth of a cousin.

After a few dances, a growing restlessness overcomes you and you long for solitude and a break from the boisterous mood. Seeking solace, you retreat to the edge of the dance floor, the rim of your wine cup finding comfort at your lips. A single, daring sip empties the vessel and quiets your inner turmoil for a moment. In the distance, your father approaches Laenor once more and engages him in conversation. The scene almost amuses you as you notice that Laenor is beginning to seem annoyed too.

You quickly take another cup of wine and leave the festivities before your father can address you again. Cup in hand, you stroll through the corridors and make your way to your chambers. Weary from the day's events, your only desire is to wrap yourself in solitude. As you enter your private chambers, you free yourself from the confines of your dress and let out a relieved sigh as the lacing at your back loosens.

The garment falls to the floor and surrenders to gravity. Wearing a flowing nightgown, you approach the mirror and carefully untangle the intricately braided pigtails that adorned your head. As you lift the brush and prepare to run it through your silken tresses, an unwelcome interruption sounds in the form of a sharp knock on the door. Irritation flickers across your face as you turn to face the unwelcome disturbance.

"Who is it?" you ask. But no one answers. You sigh and go to the door. You open it.

"What is it?" but you pause as you see your uncle.

"Uncle?" you ask.

He smiles slightly at you, "Niece," he says.

You look at each other for a while.

"Won't you invite me in?" he finally asks you.

"I'm not sure I want to," you reply.

He raises his eyebrows a little, but you take a step to the side.

His hands are behind his back and he smiles at you. Slowly he enters your chambers. You close the door and watch him. You see his broad back and notice that he seems to be looking around.

"Not much has changed in your chambers..." he says somewhat absently as he stands at your desk.

You look at him and smile a little, "Did you come here to inspect my chambers?" you ask him.

He turns to you and has to smile a little again, "No... of course not...", he says almost quietly.

He lets his fingers glide lightly over a book lying on your desk.

"You seemed annoyed," he says finally.

Now you are the one raising your eyebrows, "What?" you ask him.

"Well... At the ball... You seemed upset. Upset that Viserys kept trying to badger you with Laenor's presence," he says, smiling at you.

You roll your eyes a little as you think about it again. "Is it that noticeable?" you ask him.

You walk over to the table and drink from your wine again.

"I don't want to marry Laenor," you say finally.

"I like Laenor, he's nice. But I don't want a man who prefers the company of men," you say, turning to face Daemon.

Daemon grins slightly.

"That's understandable... You want a man who desires you," he says to you.

You have to chuckle a little, but shake your head slightly, "I don't think that's an argument that will meet with my father's understanding," you say.

"Well...", Daemon says, "You will be queen, you should decide who you marry... who will rule with you", he says to you.

You drink again of your wine and look at him. You see a sparkle in his purple eyes.

"I could take you to a brothel, if that would help you decide," he says suddenly.

This hits you unexpectedly and you suddenly have to laugh. Your laughter infects Daemon and you hear him chuckle slightly.

"Thank you very much for your offer, uncle. But I think I will decline," you say with a smile.

You look at each other and notice how close you are. You can literally feel his breath on your skin. Suddenly his lips are on yours. You gasp briefly, but then his hand is on your cheek and he holds you tight. The kiss is wild and passionate. You put your hands on his firm chest and pull him closer to you by his waistcoat. You whimper slightly as he gently bites your lower lip. Daemon breaks the kiss briefly. He is breathing heavily. His thumb wanders gently over your lower lip. His eyes seem to be watching your face closely, as if finding even the slightest sign that you don't want this.

"Do you really want me to corrupt another daughter of the king?" he asks you in his deep voice.

You are also breathing heavily and look at him.

"Shut up, uncle," you say simply.

He chuckles lightly and lets his hand slide down your neck. He pulls you close again and kisses you.

He pushes you backwards slightly and you notice the back of your thighs pressing against the desk. His hands are suddenly on your hips and with one quick movement you are sitting on the desk. Daemon is standing between your legs and he starts kissing your neck. Slowly he lets his lips and tongue glide over your soft skin. His fingers slowly slide along your thigh and you gasp.

"Is that okay?" Daemon whispers as he continues to caress your neck. You just nod and wrap your legs around him.

You feel a slight grin on his lips. You start to unbutton his shirt. More and more of his muscular chest is exposed. You notice slight scars on his skin as he lets go of your neck to pull his shirt over his head. You breathe heavily. You let your fingers wander gently over his chest and feel the scars. You bite your lip lightly.

"Shall we stop for a moment and admire each other's bodies?" he asks you with a teasing undertone.

You look up into his eyes. "Shut up, I said," you whisper. He chuckles softly and kisses you again. His hand continues to wander along your thigh. It slides under your nightgown and you let your hand slide down his neck. You gently grab his neck and pull him closer to you. You notice how your undergarments are getting more and more soaked. When his fingers suddenly slide over your folds, you moan into his mouth. He doesn't hesitate for long and pushes your undergarments aside. He feels your wetness immediately and his fingers are immediately soaked.

A deep groan forms in his chest. His fingers find your clit and start to leave firm but gentle movements on it. You moan again and gasp. You grip his neck tighter and he grins at you.

"You like that..." he whispers.

You just whimper as he moves his fingers faster. You kiss him again and try to undo his trousers at the same time. But you are distracted by his fingers. When he suddenly inserts two fingers into you, your efforts stop.

"Daemon...", you moan a little louder now.

"Yes...? I must prepare you for my cock...", he murmurs simply and lets his fingers slide into you.

You look into his eyes. Your cheeks are flushed and you are breathing heavily. He smiles at you. You moan as he lets his fingers disappear inside you again and again. You close your eyes and pull him towards you. Your lips find his lips and when he inserts a third finger, you just whimper. But you start to move your hips towards him.

Suddenly you hear him open his trousers and they slip to the floor. Your tongues continue to dance around each other as he suddenly stops inserting his fingers into you. Instead, he reaches for your undergarments and pulls them down your legs. You breathe heavily and watch his movements. You see him bite his lip as he just drops your undergarments on the floor. But then your gaze falls on his body. Daemon is standing in front of you without his shirt and trousers. And you see his entire size.

You now bite your lip as you look at his cock. It is big and thick and you can already see a few drops polling around at its tip.

His big hand pumps a few times his hot length and then he lets the tip of his cock slide through your wetness. You hear him grunt softly and can't hold back a moan of your own.

He kisses you again and lets his hand wander to your ass. Slowly he pulls you closer to him and you feel him slowly push his cock into you. You bite your lip. You gasp as his big member almost splits you. But it feels so good. He gives you time to adjust to his size. You start to move your hips towards him. And he takes that as a sign and his thrusts become stronger. With each thrust he is deeper inside you. His grunts get louder and you start moaning in unison with him. He fills you completely. Your arms are around his neck and you close your eyes. His hands are on your hips and he makes you slam down on his cock faster. You cry out in passion. The table beneath you starts to creak with each thrust, it is obviously not designed for such activities.

Suddenly one of his hands is on your shoulder and he pushes you down gently. You follow his instruction and lie down on the table. Immediately his hands are on your hips again, setting the pace. You wrap your legs around his waist to push him closer to you. The slapping of your naked skin and your lustful sounds fill your chambers. With each thrust, he grazes your sweet spot in your wet core. You moan out. Daemon notices how your walls clench around his cock.

Without hesitation, he begins to rub your pearl with his thumb. You reach for his biceps as a wave of excitement floods through you.

"Daemon..." you gasp.

"It's all right, I've got you. Show me how good it is for you... Come on my cock," you hear him say in his deep voice. His thumb moves faster and his thrusts become harder.

And then an incredible feeling floods you.

You moan, but his thrusts don't let up.

"Daemon," you moan and continue to grab his biceps.

"Yes... Yes!" he just grunts. You close your eyes and are a moaning mess. And then you hear him groan loudly. His moans become softer until they subside completely. You are both breathing heavily. You are still lying on your desk. Daemon is still standing between your legs. He lets his head hang down and you feel him slowly pull his cock out of you. You notice his cum leaking out of you and dripping onto the floor. But you can't move. Your eyes are closed and you try to catch your breath. You notice how he gently caresses your thigh.

"I wanted to take Rhaenyra's maidenhead that night... In the brothel...", you suddenly hear him say.

You open your eyes and look at him. He looks at you closely.

Neither of you says anything.

When suddenly he breaks the silence again, "But I couldn't"

You continue to look at him.

"Why?" you ask quietly.

He swallows briefly, "When I saw you that night. You, the perfect, good princess who did something forbidden... That somehow confused me..." he says quietly. His fingers continue to caress your thigh.

"I don't know, I just couldn't," he says a little louder.

You have to smile slightly and sit up.

"So my uncle does have a conscience," you say teasingly.

He has to smile slightly, "Then I guess I shouldn't have taken your maidenhead"

You smile, "Who said you did?"

He looks at you a little startled.

"I was joking," you say before he can say anything.

This time he has to laugh. He starts stroking your cheek.

"Maybe your father had better not find out about this," he says suddenly. But you have the feeling that there is a hint of sadness.

You look at him. Suddenly you have to smile slightly.

"Except... When I tell him I want to marry you," you say.

His eyes grow wide.

"What...?" he whispers.

"Well... He wants me to get married. And I get to have the last word," you say.

"But you are so often annoyed with me," he says with a smile.

"Well... at least that guarantees it won't be boring," you say quietly.

Daemon just shakes his head slightly and leans forward. He kisses you softly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @dreamlandcreations

[targcestprompts]

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Rāpa zaldrīzes bāne prūmia (Dragon!Hybrid!Daemon x Reader)

Warning: ⚠️ 17+ Content AT THE VERY LEAST. MDNI.⚠️ Soft Daemon.

Note: I wanted to do something to reflect both a drawing I saw of Daemon from @suis0u (which was amazing and sparked this idea) and the softness we see him have toward Rhaenyra in season 2. Also, this is for the un-emojified anon that asked about the Daemon's requests. I hope you find this, eventually and know that you shall now be dubbed as the ☄️anon.

Requests are open !

Words: 1,334

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His purple eyes burning through the reunited lords and ladies of the court as Daemon walked purposefully toward his brother. Long strides making it hard to follow behind him with even a modicum of dignity, so you didn’t try. The crown made of bones sitting on the prince’s head, once it was seen by the court, became the center of a buzzing conversation, whispers echoing inside the throne room, the stones walls acting like an amplification to the noise and you nearly flinched. 

Blood striking the prince’s cheeks clothes thorned and whipped by the cruel wind as he place the bone crown on top of his head. The sound of crashing waves against the shore similar to the waves of murmurs now crashing through the room. The sun had replaced the flickers of fire-lit boats and arrows, yet you felt no peace inside these wall. And the tang of sweat hadn’t the same sweetness as the sea air held. The warmth of being looked at, glared at, was something you learned to ignore, being at Daemon’s side for so long. 

It didn’t make it easier to bear. 

Daemon now stood tall, at the feet of Viserys’ throne, wings spread proudly on his back, and you came to stand to the prince’s right, just a step of three behind. Head lowered, you presented to Daemon the hatchet you’d been given. You felt Viserys gaze burn the top of your head as you lowered yourself, Daemon looked onward. Ignoring the king’s guard sword sitting on his chest, he threw the hatchet to the ground, eyes locked with his brother’s. You pulled back behind the prince, eyes gazing over the assistance, meeting the purple, curious, one’s of the Princess Rhaenyra as you did so. She was the only one who offered a greeting, which you returned discreetly. 

Daemon’s shoulders appeared free of all tension, but his scaly tale was unmoving also, signifying the slight nervousness he was probably feeling. His wings also, barely fluttered behind him. You took in a breath to try and calm the shaking in your limbs. 

When Daemon received the letter form his brother, urging him to wait for reinforcement. It was the first time you grew scared of him. The quiet anger that burned through his gaze and the silence with which he rescinded. It had the same effect to you than diving into the icy water of the sea. Bones drenched in the cold fear of maybe loosing all control over his fiery characters, loosing Daemon for good. 

He’d taken flight soon after he read the letter. Leaving with practically none of his army to fight the Crab king, leaving you to articulate the need you imagined he’d have once he landed. Scrambling to coordinate with this lord or some other before sending them behind him in small (too small) embarcations. 

You’d been too far to follow the battle ensuing. Only seeing throws of flames and hearing the echoes of screams from where you stood. You could only direct the messages send to Corlys once his ship could manage to receive your flags. 

When Daemon came back on the ship, all bloody and sooth covered. Smelling like fish, blood and smoke, a crown of small bones, or crab legs, which ever, sitting on his head, you lowered yours and ignored him. For you could not help with the fury his brother (The King) would unleash once he’d hear of his deed. 

“You seem quite somber, for someone whose status just moved up to consort of a King.” Daemon commented one night, as you rested against his chest, his wings hiding you both from whomever could walk into the cabin you share in the ship. It was bringing you back to King’s landing, and you dreaded the experience, every day a little more. 

You nodded. “Perhaps. I find myself wondering if accepting the title would do you any good.” You commented softly. Voice and words where two different things. One was the method, the other was the wound. And even if you wanted poison, the dead wasn’t always so smooth. Daemon had looked down to you, eyebrows raised. “You regret my winning?” He asked, tone colder than before, his smirk becoming sharper, meaner. 

“I do not. I fear your confidence.” 

Now, as you bowed respectfully to Viserys, in front of a single hatchet, Daemon finally talked. Words buzzing in your ears, nonsense of nervousness. He was handling your life in his hands. You trust was put in Daemon early on, but his brash character had offered many disgrace, and not much to hold your head high. Not that you complained all that much, but in situations as these, it mattered. 

“You were a crown. Do you also call yourself king.” Said Viserys, his tone smooth, calm, yet like a lash echoing in the air of the throne room. You lowered your head further. Murmurs grew loud in the room, as the assemble of lords and lady assisting convoluted the words of their king with horror, or mockery toward your prince. The though brought bile to the back of your throat, burning upward all the way from your stomach until it reached the back of your teeth. 

“Once we smashed the triarchy, they named me… King of the Narrow Sea.” Explain Daemon, voice soft, devoid of all mutiny and playfulness you were so used to. Another wave of murmur started before Daemon continued, making you raise your gaze in his direction for the first time since the eternity you’d stood behind him. 

“But I know that their is only one true king, your grace..” The prince kneeled in front of his brother, removing the bone-white crown from his as pale hair. “The crown, and Stepstones, are yours.” 

In the stunned, heavy silence, that followed, blood rushed to your head, making it impossible to understand the exchange of words the king and the prince shared, you finally let out the beath that stuck to your throat all the while you waited. Viserys climbed down his throne to face his brother eyes to eyes, Daemon still kneeling, he offered his crown to Viserys. 

The rest of it was, for you, a blur, as you only followed Daemon’s movements until he reached the quarters you would share. Your prince had no interest in parting from you anytime, anywhere. He was still drunk on the applause, on the praise that he’d receive from the king, that made him happy. 

And when Daemon was happy, he was soft. 

Which was something that would go against everyone that knew the prince would find contradictive. But they didn’t know him like you did. They didn’t know the need he had for closeness and appreciation like you didn’t. They couldn’t see the joy of being acknowledged as equally deserving like you did. And this was Daemon’s true face. 

His hands guiding your hips to move against his, eyes devoid of their usual calculated glimmer, Daemon panted softly into the vast distance that separated your two bodies. Clothes in piles next to the bed, as he’d taken his time to take them off of you. 

“Clever little Azantys, always the right words to bring me back to my sense.” He’d comment, eyes racking every parcel of your body as he revealed it it himself. 

You rocked against him, positioning yourself the way you knew he liked, one of your hands coming to trace the scales decorating his neck and clavicles. Daemon threw his head back to give you a better access to it.  

“Just like that, Azantys. Ao gaomagon ziry sīr sȳrī .” 

Praises, or so you think, leave his mouth with every breath he huffed, head thrown back to enjoy the feeling of you and him locked together, moving in sync. Heavy hands running from your hips to down your legs, and then up to your shoulders, bringing you down so he could kiss your lips. 

This is the daemon you liked most of all the versions you were privileged to see.

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