#modern au - daemon

[thefangdomcryptid]

Daemon Targaryen Modern AU

[asparklethatisblue]

Arcane Daemon AU? Yeah. @inja-y-ddraig and I were talking, so here’s the headcanons for the main crew

I think Mel’s daemon could always wander away from her, they just didn’t try. Any mage’s daemon isn’t distance bound to their human. After their infinite embrace in the Arcane Jayce and Viktor touch each other’s daemons freely without feeling any weird recoil

Additional. Isha’s daemon is often a bunny, but also changes to a dragonfly to match Jinx. Vander’s was a Caucasian Ovcharka (disappeared after his first death, sort of fused with him). Silco’s a thorny devil. Sevika’s a ram.

Vastaya have no daemons, they are fused essentially

[eraenaa]

But Daddy, I Love Him

Aemond Targaryen x Niece Reader Tag List

Synopsis: When the favored daughter of Daemon Targaryen falls for the favored son of Alicent Hightower, the Rogue Prince does everything he can to ensure that a union between the two of you will never happen. 

Warnings: Not Proofread, ¿Softer Aemond and Daemon?, No Smut

Word Count: 5,019

It could no longer be denied nor be overlooked. It was growing painfully obvious to the court that the only daughter of Princess Rhaenyra has had her head turned by the second son of Queen Alicent. Everyone believed that the only thing the second-borns of the Princess and the Queen would share was animosity. Still, the return of Princess Rhaenyra and her kin to the capitol brought something different— something entirely unexpected. It started with stolen glances around the tilt yard and the halls of the red keep. Stolen glances lingered throughout dinner and the trial. Meeting in the library by chance turned into secret rendezvous. Banter and teases blended into meaningful conversations. Animosity turned to affection. Loathing bloomed into love. A love that cannot be.

“You look lovely, today, niece,” Aemond complimented as he caught you in the gardens. The prince relished the sweet blush that spread through your cheeks. “Shh, you might be heard,” You whispered in concern as your brothers were only seated a few leagues away. He hummed and dared to twirl your silky, curly hair into his fingers. “Shall you join me for a ride today, uncle?” You asked and took a flower into your delicate hands. You turned to the silver prince, who had a small, rare smile as he peered down at you. You boldly placed the plucked flower into the upper pocket of his tunic. “If you wish,” He answered, making you bite your lip as he stepped closer. “To the dragon pits then?” You asked, and Aemond offered his arm for you to take, and you gladly did. 

Prince Daemon stood above the gardens and watched the scene with a sneer. He had been stewing in rage, fear, and uncertainty for the past few weeks. You could no longer be reasoned with. In his eyes, you could never do no wrong. You had never done anything wrong— his favorite daughter was perfect. But apparently, your return to the capitol had caused you to make a lapse in judgment. Trusting a Hightower spawn was a great mistake on your part. You, his smart and sweet daughter, have been corrupted and manipulated by the one-eyed bastard of a son of the bitch that had the title queen. It pained the Rogue prince, but he had to take extreme measures to ensure that you would never be bound and be played by a Hightower spawn. 

You rode the skies next to your uncle. A wide smile on your lips and laughs, leaving your tongue as he playfully chased you through the clouds. His Vhagar may be the largest dragon there is, but she is also the oldest. Whilst your dragon had the quickness and agility of youth. “You’ll have to try harder than that, uncle!” You yelled in glee as you heard his frustrated groan when he lost you through a cloud. “I will catch you, little niece— and you shall give me my prize when I do,” He answered back, and you laughed in glee as your dragon rode through a cloud, making your stomach flip. “That is if you shall succeed!” You yelled before urging your dragon to fly faster and further from the prince. 

The afternoon sun started to fade, bathing the two of you in the orange hue of the setting sun, and it was then that Aemond finally caught up to you. When you landed by the pits, you were quickly grabbed by the waist. Entrapped in the arms of an uncle you used to loathe. “I demand my prize, little niece,” He murmured by your ear. You feel your heart stutter, and at the same time, you feel conscious as the two of you may be caught. “I demand my kiss, princess,” he said, and you feel your breathing shallowed by his words and the sound of footsteps approaching. You two were luckily hidden behind the body of your beloved dragon. “Tonight, meet me in the library and you shall have my kiss, my prince,” You said and reluctantly urged him to let go of his hold of you. 

When the two of you turned to the reason for the footsteps, your brows furrowed as you were both met with a gold cloak. “Can we help you, Ser?” you asked as Aemond cautiously assessed the trusted man of your father; stepping in front of you as if the knight would harm you. “Princess, I was sent by your father to escort you back into the keep.” He bowed and answered, but that did not aid your confusion. “It’s fine; I shall ride back to the keep with my uncle,” You answered, but the knight insisted that he had a direct order from the Rogue Prince that you shall return to the Red Keep under his supervision. “Just go; I shall ride behind you,” Aemond finally spoke after a moment, guiding you to the wheelhouse and glaring at the knight who interrupted the supposed private moment between the two of you. 

When inside the castle walls, you were greeted by your father and eldest brother as you disembarked the wheelhouse. “I see you have met Ser Adam,” Your father remarked at the knight who helped you step out of the carriage. “He shall be your sworn protector,” Prince Daemon added, his gaze turning to a prince who greatly reminded him of himself during his youth riding, following closely behind you. “Sworn protector? I— I do not believe there is a need fo—“ Your father cut you off, taking your arm and stirring you further from the one-eyed prince who dared to step closer to you after he had disembarked his horse. “You are the only daughter of the heir to the throne— of course, you need protecting. Ser Adam shall be constantly by your side, and he shall report back to me and your mother for any potential threat that arises.” You looked back, confused, locking eyes with Aemond, who had his jaw clenched as he conversed with your brother. 

“So I take it that my sister and brothers have their own sworn protectors as well?” You asked, feeling that you were singled out by your father’s sudden paranoia about your safety. “They too shall have one… in time,” He mumbled the last part, making your head snap up at him. “But in the meantime, Ser Adam shall oversee your ventures and activities. No more venturing out in the halls in the dead of the night alone. He shall be there by your side if any danger arises while you are in the dim walls of the library,” Your lips part as you realize that the knight was placed as a buffer, a wall between you and Aemond. You bit your tongue and made no further comment about the matter for now. 

When dinner came, you were excited because it meant that you would be in the presence of Aemond once more, enveloped in quiet conversation with the prince who sat by your left. But a frown adorned your pretty face once more as your seat beside Aemond was removed and instead placed cramped between Aegon and your elder brother. You hear Aemond’s familiar footsteps approaching; you turn to him as your brother guides you to your new place. Aemond knew exactly what they were doing. His jaw tightened as they had been keeping you from him. He knew he should have been cautious with his affection when out in public, knowing it would not be received well. But how could he restrain himself? How could he control himself when you are near? 

Throughout dinner, the two of you were silent, missing, and already longing to be by each other’s side once again. The prince’s face was filled with annoyance, his lips in a thin line. You held a look of solemnity, and a pout adorned your plush pink lips. Daemon turned to Jacaerys, the two of them satisfied with their tactics in keeping you and Aemond out of each other’s company. 

After dinner, you hear your newly assigned knight trail behind you as you walk the path toward the library. You sighed as you heard the clank of his armor. “You can stay by the door, Ser Adam,” You say as you approach the silent room, Aemond already waiting for you in your favorite spot. “I am afraid that I cannot abide by your orders, princess,” He said, and you bit your tongue; you could not let out your frustrations upon him as he was only ordered by your father. You took your seat across from Aemond; the prince eyed the knight who stood behind your chair. 

“What is he doing here?” Aemond asked in ancient tongue, annoyance seeping through his tone. “My father has instructed him to follow me wherever I go… instructed him to report back all of my ventures,” You answered and played with the embroidery of your fine dress as your pals for the night with Aemond were now ruined. “They are keeping you from me,” Aemond gritted, his hand clenching in anger. “And why should they do that?” You asked with a tilt of your head, moving to take hold of his hand, but the knight behind you cleared his throat as if a warning. You sighed and licked your lips and clamped your hands in front of you. “Because they are scared— threatened that…” Aemond caught himself before he uttered the deep truth he had realized just a week after you had returned. “That what?” You asked in common tongue. Aemond sighed and shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That I would burn for you, little light. That we are dragons that need to be bound by blood.” 

You, being the watchful eyes of your sworn protector, did not last long. Aemond had commissioned some of the guards to pick a fight with your knight, and it left him bloody, bruised, and bedridden. Buying the two of you a small amount of freedom in each other’s presence before your father could find a replacement. 

The two of you were in the godswood, hidden behind the white, ashy trunk of the Weirwood tree, away from anyone’s view. Aemond laid his head on your lap as you read a book written in the language of your house, him listening intently to your honey voice as it read fluent Valyrian. “You still have not given me my prize,” The prince suddenly said as you paused from reading. You turned to him, gazing down at the serenity on his handsome face as he lay on your lap.  One of your hands intertwined with his and resting atop his chest. “What?” You asked, feeling your stomach flip at the intensity in his eye. “You still have not given me my kiss,” Aemond said, voice growing deeper and more serious. 

You tried to laugh it off, moving your intertwined hands to your lips and kissing the back of his hand. “There,” you say, but Aemond sat up from his position. “That is not the kiss we discussed, princess,” He whispered, face inching forward to yours. You feel his cold hand on the apex of your neck and shoulder, pulling you in and sending gooseflesh to rise all over your skin. “Just one kiss,” You whispered as his lips were so close to yours, his scent of cedar wood, mint, and leather so intoxicating. “We’ll see,” he said and smashed your lips. Your heart stuttered for a moment, feeling his warm, soft, wine-tasting lips upon yours. It was supposed to be only a chaste kiss, you knew you should pull away, but as Aemond placed his hand on your waist and pulled you close, you knew you did not have the strength nor want to do so. 

Unbeknownst to you, your secret actions with your uncle were caught by your eldest brother, who did not hesitate to run to your mother’s husband to report the scene. On how yours and Aemond’s lips danced, on how you grinned at each other as you acted to catch your breath, gazing at each other love-struck. On how your kiss under the scarlet leaves of the ancient tree had only solidified your emotions and deepened your desires for each other.

You were soon called to your mother’s chambers later that afternoon. “No, please! Please, you cannot do this to me— why… why would you marry me to him?” You cried to your mother as they announced that you were to be sent to the North as a bride for its warden. It was the extreme measure your father had to take to keep you away from Aemond. Sequestering you into the frigid wasteland just so a one-eyed dragon would not lay more of its claim on you. “You had promised me I was free to choose whom I shall marry!” You cried in front of them, knowing your tears had always been your trusted weapon to bend them to your will. “I’m sorry, my love… but, the crown needs allies… a union with Lord Stark is vital.” You shook your head, “The North is already sworn to you! You need not promise me to their lord,” You countered. “It was a decision your father believed had to be made, and it is to—“

Your mother’s words faded out, and you could only focus on how it was your father’s orders to offer you to a lord you had not even met. His cruel way of keeping you from Aemond. “My father is dead,” You suddenly gritted out, silencing your mother in shock as you said the bitter words. Though you were a product of Ser Harwin Strong, and the kingdom was made to believe that your paternity came from the line of Ser Laenor— neither of those men were fathers to you. Not like Daemon was. It stung you to say such words, but you were overly hurt that he had made such a decision just to keep you from the prince you loved. 

“My father is dead; how could he have made such a decision?” You asked and dug your fingernails into your palms. Your mother sighed as you and Daemon stared each other down. “Daemon made the decision,” She clarified. “You are heir to the throne, but you would let a prince consort dictate the future of your only daughter?” You asked, menacingly. Watching the way your step-father’s jaw ticks at your impertinence. He did not know how to handle you in such a state; you were never one to rebel, but what was there to rebel against when everything you had ever wanted was quickly given to you? 

“That is beside the point, my love; you still need to marry.” Your mother said, and you shifted your gaze to her. “I know! And I am happy to do so just as long as—“ Daemon cut you off. “Just as long as what?” He asked, “Just as long as it will be Aemond.” You proclaimed. “I wish to marry him, and he wishes to marry me as well! You are the only one against this!” You all but screamed with a stomp of your foot. Making your father roll his eyes and disapprovingly shake his head as they had filed you up with their lies. “You see, Nyra… look at how they had manipulated our daughter… they filled up her head with falsities— this had been their plan all along.” Daemon reasoned to your other, who looked in between the two of you with concern and cluelessness on how to proceed. 

“Look at how they corrupted her… arguing, yelling, insulting us just to defend their disfigured son. They are playing her!” he spat bitterly. “Do not call him that,” you gritted to Daemon as he uttered offense toward Aemond. There was a silence that enveloped the room before you finally spoke once more. “Father, please… I love him,” you pleaded, ready to beg on your knees just for you not to be sent as a bride for a wolf. Daemon looked at your eyes, sincerity in your orbs, gut-wrenching sadness as pearl tears ran through your cheeks; that still did not sway his mind. “The decision is made. You shall be Cregan Stark’s bride.” He stated and walked off, leaving you to cry and wail in your mother’s arms. 

Aemond eyed you with concern as you sat dejectedly in your place next to your brother and his. Your head hung low, and not once had you cast your enchanting eyes upon him— or anyone else for that matter. His hold on his knife is tighter as he realizes you have not a bite of your supper. His gaze went murderous as he finally saw your bloodshot eyes and trembling lips. They had made you cry. He turned to your father, a harsh look on his face, whilst your mother looked at you wistfully. Aemond then turned to Jacaerys, a smug look on his plain face.

As supper ended, Aemond was the first to leave the table. He made fast steps and entered your chambers to hide there, needing to speak with you, and he was certain that would not be possible whilst you were in the presence of your kin. He hid behind the pillar as he heard the door creek and your somber voice bidding Lucerys ‘good night.’ When he heard the door shut and bared, he made his presence announced. 

It was then that he saw a clear view of your state: eyes swollen and red, lips trembling, nose sniffling, soft cheeks flush with sadness. “My light… what has happened?” he asked. You said no word, only ran to his arms and let you hold him as the tears came like rivers once more. “They’re… they’re marrying me to Cregan Stark,” You said in between sobs. Aemond felt the air knocked out of him, his form turn rigged and was immediately filled with dread. “What?” He asked, hoping what he heard was a misunderstanding. “They offered me as a bride to Cregan Stark. He shall arrive in a few days to be presented to grandfather, and we shall leave for the North in a fortnight.” 

Aemond sat you down on your plush bed, wiping away your hot tears with his cold fingers. “You will never be his,” he swore, looking deeply into your eyes as your tears did not cease. I shall speak with your parents,” he said and tried to soothe you by running his hand through your hair and caressing your cheek. “Aemond, they wouldn’t even listen to me… their minds are made,” You said sadly. Your prince only shook his head and kissed the top of your brow. “You are a dragon. Wolves do not deserve dragons,” was all he said before kissing your lips again, hoping the action would distract you from your sadness because he could no longer stomach seeing you cry. 

“They would never approve of us,” You whispered to Aemond as he held you to his chest. He tried to lull you to sleep, but your mind was distraught. “I do not care for their approval,” he uttered atop your head, inhaling deeply the scent of you. “But—“ You hear Aemond sigh and pull you closer to his leather-clad chest. “You will be mine, my light, just as it ought to be. Forget their qualms and objections— my uncle and his disapproval is a challenge I’ll happily welcome, just as long as you will forever be mine.” He stated as his fingers twirled your hair, “Let us just rest, ñuha ōños,” he murmured, and you did as told. Savoring the first and probably the last time in his hold. 

“What are you planning?” Ser Criston asked as Aemond spent more hours in the tiltyard. The arrival of his betrothed had only spurred him to fight harder, train more, and let out his rage at the knights. “Pick your weapon,” was all the prince said as he wiped away the sweat off his forehead. “Tell me the reason for your more frequent sessions first,” the knight stated. Lilac eye flickered above the tiltyard, Aemond's jaw clenching and nostrils flared as he saw you walking around with the warden of the north, chaperoned by your brother. Ser Criston’s eyes followed the prince’s gaze, realization shining through his brown orbs. “My prince, you—“ He was cut off. 

“I shall be challenging the warden to a duel for the hand of my niece,” he proclaimed and urged the knight to pick up his weapon. “But she is a bastard,” Ser Criston muttered lowly. Aemond's eye widened, and he had to greatly retrain himself from maiming the knight who stood as his father figure. “She will be my wife.” He proclaimed and returned to his training. 

When all were gathered in the throne room to announce their betrothal to Lord Stark, Aemond stepped away from his sibling and drew out his sword, bravely challenging the warden in front of the eyes of the court and his father, the king. You felt your stomach pit in fear, for you did not know that this was the plan Aemond had devised. You had half the mind that he would have the two of you escape to YiTi and live freely there. You hear your father and brother’s disapproval of the duel, but you hear your grandfather’s agreement to it. Lord Stark had little choice but to accept the challenge. You turn to your mother, her lips in a thin line and hands fiddling with her rings, her expression unreadable as he watched men argue before the throne, dictating her only daughter’s fate. She felt your eyes upon her, and she took your hand into hers as fear was evident in your gaze. “It will be fine, my love,” She muttered lowly, but you had trouble believing her words. 

When night came, the supposed family supper was discarded as both sides were furious and confused at what had transpired in the throne room. “She will not marry him— I would rather feed myself to Caraxes than watch our daughter marry a spawn of those cunts.” Daemon muttered to his wife and downed a whole chalice of wine, quickly moving to refill it once more. “She loves him,” was all your mother could mutter as she plainly saw the affection in your eyes. “And he loves her,” she added as he saw the tenderness and warmth in her half-brother’s usually cold, lone eye. Daemon scoffed and turned to his wife. 

“Not you too— Rhaenyra, you cannot buy into their deceit! You cannot let your daughter be bound to that—“ The princess cut her husband off. “Why? Why are you so against this? Put your pride and animosity towards Otto and Alicent aside… our daughter has made it clear that she wants Aemond— and he, too, made it clear that he wants our daughter. There is no underlying deceit from his intentions… what will they even gain? The crown passes to Jacaerys; Aemond wants our daughter, not for power or whatever reason you had sold yourself to greatly disagree to this match!” Daemon shook his head at his wife’s words. “We need allies. We need the North.” He said, but Rhaenyra shook her head. “You are preparing for a war that may not come— already sacrificing our daughter on the way! And she is right. The North is already sworn to me. A Stark never forgets their oath. And if they need further convincing, my daughter and her happiness is too great a price to pay for them to keep their word.” Your mother defended. She watched as her husband’s jaw clenched and his hold on the chalice grew tighter. 

“Daemon, you and I had both been subjected to marriages, not of our choosing, a marriage devised for peace and power but ultimately led to death and devastation… you cannot be so cruel to subject her to such a fate.” Rhaenyra said softly and walked towards her husband, urging him to change his mind. The prince breathed out heavily, “We shall see in the duel if he truly deserves her,” 

You nervously traced the embroidery of your dress as you watched your prince battle with the Warden of the North. Both men still yet to tire as they galloped towards each other with their jousting sticks. You feel your mother reach for your hand as your leg bounces up and down in anticipation and fear. You took in a sharp breath as the Warden was thrown off his horse, and Aemond was quick to disembark his and draw out his sword. You chewed on your lip as you shielded your gaze from the men, your bloodstream filled with fear as you heard the clang of swords and their exhausted grunts. You hear the cheers of the audience grow louder, and you feel bile rising to your throat. You shut your eyes tightly and prayed to the gods and fates for it to end soon— for it to end and for Aemond to emerge victorious. 

Your prayers were quick to be answered as you snapped your eyes open at the enraged screams of your brother and father— the prince having the warden on his knees and a sword upon his throat. “Surrender, my lord,” The prince breathed, his eye scanning upwards, in search of you. “Surrender, and you will keep your life!” The prince yelled, and you fisted your dress with each moment the warden did not concede. But when he finally raised his arms up and dropped his sword, lowly saying his surrender, you were finally able to breathe freely. “Our champion, Prince Aemond Targaryen!” Someone yelled, and cheers hollered around you, but they were quick to fade as your eyes locked with the man you can now call your soon-to-be husband. 

The wedding was quick to come, no matter the reluctance of your father and older brother. You were marrying Aemond. Other members of your kin were finally accepting the union, seeing how you both were truly enthralled and in love with one another. They no longer held disapproval as they realized how bright and intense you burned for each other. 

You were in your chambers, the final preparations made to you as you were about to be bound to the one-eyed prince in the eyes of men and the gods. “You look… you look exquisite, my sweet,” Your mother sighed and cupped your cheeks, her eyes and voice filled with heavy emotion. You tightly embraced your mother as she was the only one who was truly on your side when it came to your union with Aemond. Your heart throbbed melancholically as you were to be married without the support or blessing of the man who had become your father. You walked out of the chambers with your mother by your side, her being the only one to escort you towards the grand doors that would lead you to the great hall where Aemond waited by the end of it. She gave you one last kiss on your cheek before stepping aside and walking towards a side entrance and waiting along with the other guests; absent was the presence of Daemon. 

As the banquet went on and your hand was freely clasped around your husband, you tried not to let your sadness be shown as the man who stepped in, as your father was not anywhere in sight. Aemond could feel your sadness no matter how hard you tried to hide it; he brought the back of your hand to his cool lips and hoped it brought you comfort. You flashed him a small smile and leaned in closer, “A dance, my wife?” He asked, his heart stuttering as a genuine smile spread to your lips. 

He led you to the floor and placed his hand on your waist. No more secret touches, no more possibility of scandal, for in the eyes of the gods and men, you were Aemond’s, and Aemond was yours. As your husband spun you around and kept his steady hold upon you, your mind was finally distracted by the sadness it felt as Daemon was absent on your most joyous day. The thought of your father did not occur to you as you danced until you and your husband saw him approaching. Aemond was attentive to your reaction as he approached, ready to challenge his uncle for the distress and sadness he bestowed upon you. “I wish to dance with my daughter,” He announced, and you felt Aemond’s hold on your waist tighten; he was about to speak, but you nodded and reassured him it was fine. Aemond reluctantly stepped away, and you were left in the presence of your father. 

There was silence at first as you were once again spun for the dance, but you soon broke it. “You did not attend our ceremonies.” You said, voice a tad bitter and resenting. You hear your father’s aggravated sigh. “I know you think he is playing me… I know you believe this whole ordeal is a farce, but it’s not. He loves me, father. And I love him greatly,” You say and urge him to understand. “You— your marriage is something I do not approve of.” You hear him utter, making your stomach pit, “But it is clear that you truly love him…” he trailed, his eye turning to your husband, who had his watchful gaze upon you, ready to come to your aid, the moment he sensed distress. “… And I suppose his intentions are genuine,” he relents. You turn your now hopeful gaze upon him, “I do not believe he deserves you, but if he truly makes you happy, who am I to stand in your way? I will not hinder you anymore.” You processed her father’s words. “Do you truly mean it?” You asked, voice thick with emotion, “I do,” he sighed and kissed the top of your head. You smiled widely as heaviness in your heart faded with the blessing of your father was finally bestowed upon you and your husband.

Other fics in this universe: Mine (part 2) and King of My Heart (Part 3)

[ice-mint]

HOTD Beach AU

Alicent and her family have arrived at the beach. They realize after the two hour trip they have forgotten Daeron at home. They are not going back.

Rhaenyra has arrived with her family, the only food they have brought is a bag of cheetos.

Rhaenys has her granddaughters sorted already, only sunscreen left!

Daemon is moping in the ocean meanwhile.

Viserys and his least favourite daughter are having creative diferences about the sand Valyrian model. She wants to put pink seashells, he refuses. Alicent ends up scolding him.

The kids find out someone has finished all the ice-cream. Lucerys has been crying for half an hour. It was Daemon.

Helaena has found a crab she calls Herbert, no one wants to get near her. Aegon has passed out, being buried in sand as a punishment.

Rhaenyra has promised Aegon a beer if he distracts everyone while she flirts with Daemon. Viserys feels something is not right but can't figure out what. Jacaerys is just happy to be included.

The day at the beach was a success!!! No one was seriously harmed and everyone had fun.

Truly a first for the Targaryen family! ❤️

[poppyflower-22]

Nothing To Worry About?

Summary: Benjicot confronts you on your past relationship with Aegon.

Warnings: Incest (as usual) This is a modern au. Small talk of virginity. Mention of still birth.

Side note: Spelling and grammar mistakes. This could be a part 2 to lifetime if you like.

To love someone is to love all of them. No matter there flaws. No matter what they do.

You had seen you mother love your father's. She had loved your step father Harwin Strong. And she had loved your father Daemon.

While the rest of your family was complicated you had always known and seen what love was and how it should be received and given.

While Harwin wasn't your father, he treated you like his daughter. He showed loved to you like a father should do.

It was how you had known that what you felt for Benjicot Blackwood was love. You had known because your mother had spoken of how that's what she felt for your fathers.

It had made you feel like you had butterfly's in in your stomach. And you had never felt like this, you could feel like this forever.

“Is he good to you?” Jace asked his sister. You turned to your brother and smiled.

“Yeah.” You looked back over at Benjicot, who was playing with Aegon, your younger brother.

You felt a hand on your arm. “I’m happy for you, sister.” Jace whispered, kissing the side of your forehead.

Jace was happy that his friend was good to you. He was always going to look out for you but more so after the whole Aegon thing.

You sighed and walked over to Ben. Benji smiled up at you as you bent down on your knees.

“Hey buddy.” You greeted your younger brother. Your brother smiled at you before going back to playing with his toy dragons.

“Aegon!” Rhaenyra called, making young Aegon run over to his mother.

“Come on.” You said as you took Benji’s hand and walked up to your bedroom.

Benji squeezed your hand as you both walked past the living room where your uncles were. Aegon, your uncle smirked at Benji, knowing it would get on his nerves.

“I bloody hate him.” Benji mumbled. As he lay on her bed. He lay on his side. He had his hand on his chin as he watched you.

Your orange cat, Maple, jumped on the bed and snuggled up to Benji. He pat her making her purr.

You sat at your vanity and took off your earrings and jewellery, but your promise ring Benji had given you.

“Just ignore him.” You mumbled back, not wanting to talk about Aegon.

“Well it’s hard to when he’s here all the time.” He shot back.

You signed. “You know mother and Alicent are being friendly again, and Aegon just tags along.”

Ben groaned and dropped his head onto her soft fluffy pillows, Maple not moving as she was a deep sleeper. You smiled at your boyfriend before walking over to join him on the bed. Maple purred as you moved her softly so you could cuddle your boyfriend.

Benji smiled, letting you cuddle closer to him. He put his hand around your waist. You kissed his neck as you were put to sleep by your boyfriend.

Even him just there made you fall asleep.

Benji was cresting your back as he heard you breathing get steady, meaning you were asleep. He carefully got out of your arms and put the stuffed weighted dragon toy in your arms.

He stepped out to your balcony that was connected to your room and lit his cigarette.

As he looked out the mountains that were literally in your back, he thought of you.

The first time he ever saw you was in that book shop. He knew who you were. How could he not? You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. And you were a Targaryen.

You had giggled at him when he stumbled over his words. He was nervous to talk to you, but he got over that as you both started seeing each other.

His first had been you, his first kiss, the person that took it. He was even more drawn to you after that. He tried his best to love and cherish you with his whole heart.

He loved you too much to ever let you go. He thinks if you ever got away that he would simply die. Sounds dramatic, but his soul was yours.

And it was a plus your family approved of him.

Daemon had been harder to get the approval of. You were his little girl. And any boy wasn’t going to be good enough for you. But he liked Benji, he could protect you.

Jace was already sort of friends with him. They played football together. But they came closer after Benji started dating you. Jace was like Daemon, protective, but Jace knew you were safe with him.

Rhaenyra was the one person Benji had been he most nervous about meeting. You loved your mother with all your heart. You were her only girl. After your little sister Visneya died a still birth, your mother had been even more protective of you.

But the moment you told her about Benji, she knew that without even meeting the boy, he was the one for you. That he treated you like you were the only girl on the earth. And for that, Rhaenyra had treated Benji like another one of her sons.

Your door being open pulled him away from his thoughts of you. He turned his head to see who it was, he thought it would be your mother or brother but it was Aegon.

Benji sat up more on the rail at the sight of your uncle. He didn't like him. From just the way he used to treat girls in school and college. And also that you and Aegon use to have a close relationship.

You always hesitated in telling him anything about your time with Aegon when you were younger, but Benji had guessed what could have happened.

"What are you doing?" Benji snapped at the boy making Aegon snap his head over to him.

Aegon smirked and walked his way to the doorway of the balcony. "Just checking up on my niece."

"Well, she's fine." Benji grumbled and put his cigarette out on the rail before jumping off the rail to put it in the ashtray that sat on the small table.

Aegon shugged and crossed his arms, "She's my niece. We are close." He smirked at the black haired boy. Aegon watched as he clenched his jaw in anger. "We are so close. I would say closer than people think." He taunted the boy.

Benji clenched his fist before he took a step and got right in Aegons face, making him gulp at the glint in Beni's eyes. "You were close. Were. You're not close anymore. She has me. She doesn't need you. She comes to me with her problems, not you." Benji spat.

He walked over to you and sat down on the edge and moved some of your white hair out of your face.

Aegon’s smirk drooped. Yes, you and him were close. More close than anyone in the family. But after a while, when he had left for his first year in community college, you had distanced yourself from him. And before he knew it, you were bringing your new boyfriend home.

He glanced at the way Benjicot moved your hair softly away from your face. He used to do that with you. He taught you everything you knew.

Aegon walked angrily towards your bedroom door before he left he turned to Benji and said something that would hopefully make him angry, "Hey Benji, did she take you to her favourite place in Rome Did you take the nighttime walk where the violin players always play?" Aegon asked with a smirk before he left the room.

He left a confused and hurt Benji and a sleeping unaware girl.

The dinner was uncomfortable. You had tried to talk to Benji, but all he had done was tell you dinner was ready.

You don't know what had happened since you had fallen asleep. You had tried to hold his hand, but he shook that of as well.

He was sat between your brother and you. Helena sat next to you. Aegon sat across from him,

You had decided that if your boyfriend was going to be a dick to you for no reason, then you would talk to your sweet aunt.

Benji had tried to listen to Jace talk about his trip to Paris with his girlfriend Sarah Snow. But all he could think about was you.

When you had asked him if he wanted to go to Rome for a few days, he had jumped at the opportunity. You had been on many small trips together, but Rome was a place you loved.

And knowing that Aegon had been there and done exactly what you two did didn't sit right with him. Maybe it was jealously. But he just didn't like it.

"They had this amazing butterfly room there. You would love it Hel, we have to go, one day." You gushed to your aunt.

"Of course. Butterflies are just so beautiful. Anymore insects there?" Helena asked, interested in the other bugs you could have seen.

Aegon, laughing quietly and looking at you, made Benji snap.

"If you excuse us." Benji said to Jace, who nodded and watched as he stood up and took your hand. "We need to talk." He simply said.

You let him pull you away. Confused. "What's going on? Ever since I woke up, you have been acting weird." You huffed as he closed the sliding doors to the back yard.

Benji scoffed at you. "That fucking craven cunt." He spat making your eye widened in surprise.

"Wow, wow, wow." You rushed out in order for him to stop before he said anything else. "You need to actually tell me what's wrong. Not curse words. Words." You advised him.

Now, that's what he loved about you. You could stop him, calm him down before he went on and on, and worked himself up. But he was already worked up.

"Aegon!" He yelled at her, making her step back in surprise. "He basically told me that you both went to Rome together and that doesn't make me upset, no what makes me upset is that not only did we do what you and him did, you lied to me about it. All I want is honesty from you." He explained to you.

You sighed. You closed your eyes and pinched your nose. "Fucking Aegon." You cursed. He could always ruin something. "Look." You began taking his hand in yours. "What me and Aegon had was a long time ago. Yes we went to Rome together and did what we did. But did you ever stop and think why?" She asked him with a head tilt.

When he shook his head softly, you smiled sweetly at him. "It was because I wanted to replace that memory that I have with him with you. You are the one that I love. Not him."

You took a breath for the next words may be hard for him to hear. "I wish all my firsts had been with you."

Benji narrowed his eyes and, with a clenched jaw, looked away. He didn't pull away. Seeing this, you grabbed his face in your hands and brought his face back towards you.

"But I know I have many other first with you." You smiled up at him. You dragged your hands down his arms again. "Our first home, our first pet together, our first child..." You trailed off with a nervous smile. He smiled lightly at you, knowing you were right.

He had a bunch of first with you yet to come.

Benji sighned and leaned his forehead on yours. They stood there for a few monets. Just in the silence.

"I'm such an idiot." He whispered you with a small laugh.

You shook your head with a giggle. You put your hands on his cheeks, making him look at you in your unique purple blue eyes. "It's normal for you to feel thease things. I'm sorry for not telling you what really happened between us. And I will, but maybe when we go back to yours." You told him with a smile. You crest his cheek.

Benji leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You melted into the kiss. Benji wrapped his arms around your waist as yours went into his hair and pulled it, making his groan.

You parted and smiled at eachother.

"You were jealous. " You giggled at the blush of embarrassment on his face. He hated being jealous.

"I was not." He grumbled into your neck, making you giggle more. Benji smiled at your giggles. "I love you so much." He sighed in your neck.

You smiled, racking your hands over his hair. "I love you as well, Benji. So much." You whispered into his ear and placed a soft kiss there.

Even if Aegon was always going to be in your life, at least Benji had the resurgence of knowing he was yours and you were his.

You were from a complicated family. A family that was broken from the death of your grandmother. But you had each other to hold.

I am thinking of making this a little small series. I was bored and listening to music.

[happilyhertale]

Captured Moments – Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Daemon has to go on a business trip again. You hate it every time he leaves you alone for a long time. But to make his alone time special, you plan to make him a little film.

Pairing: Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fingering; Dirty Talk; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note:

This is my last story for this year's Smuffmas Challenge. It was great fun creating all these little stories and reading your comments on my stories. Thanks for reading!

I hope you'll also like my last Daemon story.

Word count: 2.2 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

Daemon is a man of many complexities. With the sleek, tailored suits he wore to business meetings, you almost forget that there is a certain fire beneath his cool exterior. He isn’t the kind of man to show his emotions easily, nor was he the type to stand still when there is a task to be done. But when he is with you, all of that seems to melt away.

But now, you are facing the reality of his business trip. The one he has to leave for so soon. You don‘t know how long he’d be gone, and that is the hardest part. He would normally give you exact dates and let you in on his plans. Usually to rant about his business partners. But this time, he didn't know how long he would be gone. And you hated it. You hate the uncertainty, you hate the distance that it created. And yet you know he has no choice. Duty, work, all of it… it doesn't make it any easer though.

You are in your bedroom now, your mind racing. The soft lighting in the room creats a sensual atmosphere, and as you gaze at the old camera on the dresser, the thought of giving Daemon a farewell gift consumes you. You aren’t the type to be overtly emotional, but this is different. You want to leave a piece of you with him, something tangible. Something to make him smile when he is far away.

You move to the bed, your fingers grazing the smooth silk sheets. Carefully, you strip out of your clothes, leaving only your lingerie—a white lace that clings to your skin, accentuating your curves. You aren’t trying to seduce him in the usual way; no, this is different. This is something deeper. You are offering him a part of yourself, a memory of you when the distance felt too much to bear.

You take a deep breath, adjusting the camera just so, making sure it has the right angle. This is the first time you are doing something like this, and a slight nervousness creeps in. But you push it down, telling yourself that Daemon would love it. After all, he appreciates the unconventional, the unexpected. You are certain this would be something that would make him smile when he was alone in some hotel room, far away.

The camera rolls as you lie back, eyes fluttering close for a moment as you imagine his reaction. You shift slightly, adjusting your position, arching your back slightly so the lace clung to you even more. You want him to feel your presence when he watches this. You want to be in his thoughts, every moment, every second.

What you didn’t realize was that Daemon was already closer than you thought.

Daemon is walking down the hallway when he hears a faint sound. He knows you are in the bedroom, but he hadn't expected this. Curiosity draws him closer, each step silent as he approaches the door. He peers through the crack, his heart beating slightly faster as he sees you lying there on the bed, dressed in nothing but lace and silk, the camera trained on you.

He grins. The look on your face—soft, sensual, and unaware—make something deep inside him stir. You have no idea he is watching.

His breathing slows as he leans against the doorframe, unable to avert his gaze. The way you move, the way the fabric of your underwear caresses your body, it's like a slow, seductive dance just for him. His eyes take in every detail, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the softness of your skin, without you noticing his presence. He feels his desire stirring, his length twitching.

Daemon is just standing in the doorway watching you. Your eyes are closed as your fingers glide over your body and you sigh softly. Do you imagine that they are his fingers? He feels his member twitch slightly again, but he just watches you. Your fingers glide over the fabric of your panties and you sigh again. You press against the fabric and he knows you are pressing against your bundle of nerves. Your hips move slightly as your fingers glide over the fabric in circles. The camera captures everything, every sigh and soft whimper as your fingers pick up speed.

He knows it is wrong to just stand there, to not make his presence known, but a thrill ran through him. He lets himself enjoy the moment—before stepping forward, slowly, deliberately.

With a deep breath, Daemon walks into the room, his footsteps silent as he approachs the bed. They haven't noticed him yet, but the air has changed as soon as he walks further into the room.

The cool confidence in his stride, the intensity of his presence—it is impossible to ignore. Slowly, he enters the room and watches you closely, but you don't notice. “Are you already preparing for my absence?“ His deep voice suddenly sounds. Your eyes flutter open and you gasp, "Daemon!" You sit up slightly and breathe a little heavily. “No, no... don't let me disturb you, go on,” he encourages you with a small smile around his lips.

“I wanted it to be a surprise for you!“ you pout a little. “Oh believe me, this is a surprise,“ he says and starts to unbutton his pants. “Daemon...” you start, but you can already feel the throbbing intensify between your thighs.

“And where did you dig that thing up?” he mumbles, while his pants slide down and he tilts his head in the direction of the camera. But you don't answer immediately, your attention is focused on his boxer shorts, which are already sliding towards the floor. His hardness springs free and the throbbing between your thighs becomes unbearable. You squeeze your thighs together. “I wanted you to have something to take with you on your business trip...“ you say, earning a chuckle from Daemon as you let yourself fall back onto the mattress. ”Well, I could watch a video of me keeping you company instead,“ he mumbles and crawls onto the bed. ”What...?” you start, but then you understand, “Oooh…“ you say.

But then he grabs you by the back of your knees and pulls you towards him. You let out a small squeak, but you can't stop smiling. Your legs wrap around his waist as if by themselves and you pull him closer. His scent envelops you as you press your face into his neck – his growl fills the room as he grinds his length against your core.

Your teeth dig lightly into his skin as his hip grinds against you in rhythm. His eyes flashing with primal desire,“Get them off, ” he mutters. Slowly, torturously, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and begins to drag them down your thighs, exposing your most intimate area to his hungry gaze.

He tosses your discarded underwear aside carelessly. His large hands skim up your sides, pushing your lingerie up to reveal the soft swell of your breasts.

Leaning down, he captures one pebbled nipple between his teeth, suckling and nibbling as his fingers find your slick folds, stroking teasingly. "So wet already, just for me... I bet this tight little cunt is aching to be filled, isn't it baby?".

You just whimper, ending in a desperate moan, your back arching slightly as Daemon teases your nipple with his teeth and tongue.

He smirks wickedly at your breathy moan, reveling in the power he holds over your pleasure. Slowly, deliberately, he sinks two long fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping wet heat, pumping them in and out at a maddeningly slow pace

"Fuck, you're dripping, babe," he groans, curling his fingers to stroke that sensitive spot inside you. "This greedy cunt is sucking me in, like it never wants to let go."

His thumb finds your clit, circling the swollen nub in tight, fast circles as he increases the speed of his thrusting fingers. Leaning down, he laves his tongue over your neglected nipple again before drawing it into his mouth to suck hard, which makes you moan.

"That's it, let me hear those pretty noises," he demands huskily against your breast.

Releasing your nipple with a wet pop, he starts trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, occasionally grazing his teeth over your racing pulse point.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he moans and you whimper in reply, your hips moving against his fingers as you want to feel him deeper inside you.

He just smirks wickedly at your wanton response, enjoying the sight of you writhing beneath him, flushed and panting with need. Sliding his two long fingers deeper inside your dripping channel, he curls them just right, rubbing against that sensitive spot within. Your pussy is dripping and you feel your walls flutter around his fingers. Daemon's teeth dig into the soft skin of your neck and you moan out again.

"Mmmm, such a responsive little thing you are," he groans approvingly, pumping his digits slowly. "Clenching so greedily around my fingers, like this greedy cunt is starving for my cock."

And in that moment, Daemon pulls his fingers out of your dripping heat. You whimper in protest and look up at him as he sits up slightly. He grins cheekily as he sees you lying there, breathing heavily and spread for him.

He fists his length in his hand, pumping it a few times, your slick on his fingers aiding the motion. You watch his long and thick manhood as he strokes it, and your pussy clenches around nothing. Even in the dim light of the room, you can see a pearly bead of liquid forming at the tip, and you bite your lip in anticipation. He grunts as he fucks his fist, biting his lip as well as his eyes roam over your naked form.

He leans down again, letting the tip slide through your pussy and you whimper again as he thrusts shallowly against your opening. You try to push your hips towards him because you finally want to feel him inside you.

A stifled groan escapes his lips as you grind your folds against his cock.

“So impatient,” he murmurs, but then he gives in and you feel the stretch. You gasp as he penetrates deeper inch by inch. He growls as he feels your pussy clench and pushes deeper. The way your walls wrap around his shaft, drawing him deeper and deeper inside until his swollen tip presses against your cervix. You're so tight and wet, you're leaking all over his cock.

He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he slides out almost completely and then pushes into you again. His thrusts get faster and harder, making you moan and gasp. His balls slap against your ass with every powerful thrust. The tip of his cock hits your cervix with more force and you cry out slightly. The bed creaks with every movement and your back arches slightly, wanting to feel him deeper. When Daemon suddenly grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders. You gasp and look at him, but before you can react, he slides back into your pussy. You moan and your eyes roll back into your head. Daemon growls, he feels your pussy fluttering around his cock. He thrusts deeper into your heat, leaning forward a little to make you scream. “Daemon!” you scream, and he grunts. He stretches you out, deepening the angle even more. “YES! Let me hear how deep you need it!” he grunts.

He pulls out for merely a second before slamming back in with full force, electrifying every nerve in your body and coaxing more sounds out of you. Your legs are still over his shoulder, he has a firm grip on you while he fucks hard into you. Tears form in your eyes as Daemon holds your thighs. His grunts get louder and louder as he feels your pussy start to milk his cock.

He can feel how close you are and his fingers glide to your clit. He rubs your clit wildly, playing with your clit, his fingers drenched from your slick, making you see stars while you clench hard around him. “Come on, come on my cock!” he growls and you whimper as he thrusts deeper and you can't hold back anymore. You come and feel your orgasm rush through your body as you moan. Your pussy clenching hard around his cock and he grunts. He slides in and out until he spills his hot seed within your clenching cunt. He cums hard, his cock throbbing inside you with abandon as he grunts and groans. Part of him delights in the thought of marking you, of filling you with a hot, sticky reminder of him.

His motion becomes sloppy and he growls until every drop is milked from his cock.

You are breathing heavily, your eyes are closed. Daemon lets your legs slide off his shoulders before he leans down and kisses you. Almost gently, in contrast to the previous moment. After he breaks the kiss, your eyes fall back on the camera that has captured all this. But before you can say anything, you hear Daemon's hoarse voice. “Now I have a great video for those lonely moments,” he murmurs against your skin and you giggle slightly.

[queers-gambit]

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

a collection of varying Muses labeling Reader as "clingy".

featuring muses: Carmy Berzatto, mafia!Bucky Barnes, modern!Aemond Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, and Joel Miller.

"The enemy uses those things you're insecure about. Free yourself and take your power back by being secure in who you are - flaws and all," — The Day My Soul Cried: A Memoir by American award-winning playwright, producer, screenwriter, podcaster, advocate, Yvonne Pierre

total fics: 7

status: active

-> will be updated accordingly

requests CLOSED requesting rules and masterlist

"Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime," — Mineko Iwasaki, Japanese businesswoman, icon, and the most famous Geisha. author of Geisha, a Life

🍒 pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

God's Plan

your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. -> or being called clingy [during a fight].

word count: 3.1k+

🎭 drama 🥺 hurt 🚫 no REAL comfort 🙊 general language and content warning 🍄 toxic relationship

read here

part two: Two to Tango

the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

word count: 5.4k+

🎭 drama ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💔 small angst 🧸 small fluff ☠️ discussion of deceased family member 🙊 general language and content warning 💣 relationship angst 🔏 barely edited

read here

🍒 pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader fandom masterlist: Marvel

Curiosity Killed The Cat

few weeks after rescuing you from a kidnapper, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become. -> or overhearing being called clingy.

word count: 5.1k+

🎭 drama ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🦋 modern AU 💸 mafia AU 🙊 general language and content warning 🥊 brief depiction of physical violence and / or aggression 🫠 description of self-destruction 🔏 barely edited

read here

🍒 pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

You Might Think It's Foolish

meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. -> or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.

word count: 3.1k+

🎭 drama 💔 angst 🥺 hurt 🚫 no comfort 💣 relationship angst 🐝 stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning 🐍 toxic family 🍄 toxic relationship...? 🔏 barely edited

read here

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice

similar to Penelope Featherington, you overhear your best mate's choice words about you after dancing at a ball.

word count: 18.3k+

🎭 drama 💔 angst 🥀 unrequited love 🥺 hurt 🚫 NO comfort 💣 relationship angst 👯‍♀️ BFF trope 🍒 author's favorite 🐝 stand alone / oneshot 🙊 general language and content warning 🍄 toxic relationship 🥂 alcohol mentions 💛 requires maturity and caution 🚺 misogyny 😵‍💫 wonky brain go wonky 🫠 depiction of self-destruction 🍑 character with given nickname ⏳ AU timeline 🦻 eavesdropping trope ❗️ single, non-graphic line that alludes suicide as an unserious threat to convey displeasure 🚹 men 2️⃣ written after season two 🔏 not edited

read here

🍒 pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

Not All That Glitters is Gold

during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he holds choice words about you. -> or (publicly) discovering you're being called clingy by your man from someone else.

word count: 3.1k+

🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💣 relationship angst ⏳ AU timeline 🙊 general language and content warning 🔏 barely edited

read here

🍒 pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

Save Me From Myself

in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

request: Can i request joel miller for the clingy baby series!! Maybe they were traveling together w ellie and she clings to him bc he always kept her safe until he calls her clingy one day.

word count: 1.9k+

⚠️ mild spoilers 🙊 general language warning 🥺 hurt 🚫 no comfort 💔 mild angst ❗️ short fic!

read here

🍒 pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

Pretty Boy Swag

your big ass family comes to town and hosts a town-wide family reunion. after they meet your boyfriend for the first time, your proximity is criticized, and when you try to fall back, Eddie's swift to your side again. -> or when someone else calls you clingy, you try to fall back but your man doesn't want that.

word count: 6.2k+

⏳ AU timeline 🐝 stand alone / oneshot 🙊 general language and content 🐍 toxic family 🎭 drama 🧠 depiction of mental health: insecurity, anxiety 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🧸 some fluff 🚬 drug use 🥂 depiction of alcohol use 💍 established relationship 🥰 romance 🛑 abrupt ending 🔏 not edited

read here

requesting rules and masterlist

[darlingofvalyria]

❝Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.❞

[ Never piss off your wife. She might acquire a living, breathing punishment for you. Aka, Daemon made a mistake and you're his punishment ft. Rhaenyra stay winning. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 1,985 ] | Daemyra x Sugar Baby!Reader

contains— sugar mommy x sugar baby, open relationship/understandings, toxic relationship??? allusions of cheating, established realtionship - nsfw: oral, p & v sex, v & v sex, pet names mainly: darling, sweet girl, good girl, praise, male masturbation shshhs - you piss the shit outta daemon (as you should), slight angst? - sort of daemon-focused since it's in his pov, but rhae's the only one allowed to touch you lol - no targcest bc its the modern world and that would be weird.

a/n— i dont want to talk about it, okay. comment/reblog/like at will ❤️️

Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.

With your soft noises encouraged to heighten in pleasure whenever Rhaenyra had you over- and after initial test drive of the first few times, stretched in months to weeks to days - she had you over all the time, at random times of the day. Any time the boys or his girls weren't by (being taken care of in the park, Harwin or Laena's visitation rights, Rhaenys wanting to take them off for Corlys weekend fishing trips)- your mewls turned unbridled shouts of pleasure now filled the high-rise.

You permeate the space like a cigarette stain; you didn't even need to be godsdamned present anymore. It starts with your perfume- it's lighter than Rhaenyra's but heavier in sweetness. Vanille. A touch of it that he's foul to recognise. Lipstick stains on his wife's neck, her blouse, where he can imagine your lips drag and bite and suckle because the kids are too young to understand and it's not like he's not one to leave his own marks, but there's a thunderous boil that drums in his veins when he realises you're leaving your own on his wife.

You fill the nooks and crannies like a plague, and you don't even care about him.

Worse, you taunt him.

And it's not like he could say anything to Nyra.

After all, the two of them had an understanding after he got caught with a minor dalliance of his own. It was a one time thing, and he only got blown, but it was enough for a talking to. A mutual agreement that was really just him pacifying his wife.

He really should have focused on the crooks of how upset she had been, on the gleam in her eyes when he thought she had simmered down. That her fire, though not as brightly lit, was still very much burning.

"You can have any sweet thing that you want, husband, as long as you keep them away from the kids. As long as you keep it quiet and away from me. I do not want the details." Nyra's mouth had curled. He remembered. She took up the space behind him, wine-kissed as she was, her fingers dancing on his shoulders and kneading at the tough centre of the nape of his neck. His eyelids fluttered and he barely heard her next words.

"In return, you will not make a fuss when I take mine, hm?"

Daemon had laughed. He remembered that. A soft, more air than sound laugh.

He took her hand to his lips and smirked up at her. Shark-like. Baiting. Daring. "As you wish, wife. In return, you can tell me all about it."

There was a strong part of Daemon that didn't think she'd actually do it.

Rhaenyra had smiled that smile that reminded him of godswoods and Valyrian necklaces, passed down from generation after generation. A silent vow louder drew from blood.

There was a strong part of Daemon who thought his wife was jesting, making a bluff, a toss of a coin.

Until you arrived with a sweet smile and a tinkling little laugh.

Until he had found his wife with her face buried between your legs, your hands— freshly done nails and glimmering rings, new, he later found out from the bank transcripts — and your back arched, your mouth gaping in a silent scream as you come undone.

It took a minute for you to see him, so stuck in that pleasure that broke and free-fell through you several times because 'Nyra didn't want to let up, calling you her sweet girl, her darling girl, that's it, you can take more, can you? aren't you my good girl?

When your thick lashed-eyes finally met his darkened lilac gaze, lipstick still perfect red, still perfectly plump and moist, your mouth curls into a charming little smile and said, "Oh, hello there."

Rhaenyra looked up, and at the smirk on her face, your spend all around her ruined lipstick and chin— Daemon knew she wanted him to see. Wanted him to know. It's a bullet shot down his spine, straight to his cock. It's a cold thrill and grasped fingers around his throat with rings nestled to make indents.

It's a violent blend of jealousy and lust, and the cocktail emotion rages in him, swirls and punctures.

There is a bite between Rhaenyra and Daemon, a fiery edge that often saunters the edges, crosses a new line. But each time, after each rough push, they come back to one another; a tether of becoming, of pulling taunt. Once again united. They are assured in each other's positions; you can play with anyone but you always come back to me.

Rhaenyra has won this one. She had snapped, pulled, and arose victorious.

But they always come together. And often, enjoyed sharing.

What Daemon forgets sometimes is that he is a younger brother, and really, Rhaenyra was the eldest and the sole eye of her father. When righteous selfishness burns with a petty need to make her husband suffer, it heels hard.

"She is mine, husband," she whispers at the edge of his lips, riding him through a slick, sex-haze after you had left. Her thighs slap against his own, his hands harsh on the indents of her waist as she rode him with no abandon, uncaring for his pleasure this time, selfishness the game this time, but the renewed roughness brought him to the early days of their marriage. That unbridled want, a clash of teeth and skin and raw, burning lust.

There is a growl and a hiss, a moan and a gasp; blood has beaded through bitten flesh and bruises are blooming. This is fucking from the high of a third party dancing on their marriage.

And Rhaenyra's refusal of you to him made him throb.

She had seen him high-strung, plotted him to be harder than a box of rocks, already harshly yanking his tie in anticipation of having his wife and you with your fox gazes and sire song, but Rhaenyra had turned away from him, ignored him, and slapped your thigh before kissing your cheek.

"Come back next time, darling, my husband is home." It was said in a tease, a lighthearted joke between two people he was not a part of, but he knew his wife; recognised the bite. The smugness.

And by god, you were in on it as you thrilled a laugh and slid your gaze to his, undressing and fucking him with your eyes as you bit your lip. Your words are to Rhae, a hand on her cheek and a thumb rubbing at the corner of her lip, but your gaze is devouring him. He wasn't a green boy, but you seemed amused and feral for the hard-line of his manhood. As if you can picture what he would feel like buried deep inside your guts, and enjoyed it.

"Am I just going to be yours then, hm?" you asked amusedly, finally turning to her.

Nyra turned her gaze then, to him, and smirked. "You, I will not share. A fitting punishment, don't you think? Some jewels are meant for one alone."

And you had laughed, the gall of you, taking your bag (new one too,a matching one with his wife) and walking right past him. Your scent- his wife's fucking scent, the smell of her cunt on you and his dick throbbed - devoured him as you left him with a wink and a quiet, "too bad."

You had not even gone inside the elevator of their penthouse before a growl tore through his chest and he had met Rhaenyra's thundering footsteps with his own, their tongues and teeth clashing for dominance, ripping apart clothes, wanting to bury each other in the other's skin.

Now, she reaches her peak with a yell and a full body shudder, her cunt clenching and squeezing, demanding his release, and he jolts with her with a swear of his own, his cum flooding her in thick, sharp bursts.

Even then, as Rhae smiled sweetly, post-peak glow simpering her fire, sweetening her kisses against the side of his face, his neck, running a tongue over the worst of the bruises and bites— Daemon thought, surely, now that his wife had reached post-coital bliss and forgiven him, punishment had been had? That he was free to have you, to play with you?

But no. You were off limits. Hers and hers alone. A punishment that keeps on giving as the echoes of you exist in his life in patterns he was starting to fucking loath.

The scent in the bath- the echo of the warmth of someone having used it recently, someone who wasn't his wife, in the pillows of his living room, the barest smudge of makeup as if your face had been pushed against them. In the snacks and drinks that he, nor his wife, nor their children, particularly like, fill up the corners of his kitchen. The lipstick stains on his wife, the running mill in the bank statements (the new necklaces, new dresses, new fucking lingerie he hasn't seen), and when he had finally had enough, shoving through his own house to talk to his wife that the least she could do while she was fucking you was be allowed to be there, he hears it then—

Your shouts of pleasure falling into sighs into giggles, and when he slows to his marital bedroom, you are there— breathing heavily, alive, real— naked and slicked, a goddess divine, with Rhaenyra inside you in more ways than one, baring her teeth in a victorious grin before falling into a laugh at his face.

"Am I allowed to have him now, is that it?" you ask, seemingly innocent. One of the new necklaces in his statements on your neck and nothing else. Chest moving in shuddering breath having just orgasmed and yelling it.

"Your choice, sweet girl," Rhae purrs, leaning back over your form to run a finger from the valley of your breasts to your stomach to your clit that turns your shudders to an outright jolt, then a sigh, when she starts fingering you in front of him. The squelch is obscene, and Daemon is hard, and he is not a fucking boy but he is starting to hate you as much as he wants to fuck the lazy smirk on your face, pleasure so obviously building once again. Soft sighs, mewls, escaping full, raw lips.

"I kind of... want him to watch a little. Just- ah! Nyra there, please - sit still and pretty." You smirk, giving him a pouty air kiss. The urge to strangle you sings in his blood. Hold you down and fuck you until you're better pliant, sweeter, fucking cooing for him. Fuck the spoil Rhaenyra has ingrained in you away.

You turn to the silver-haired woman on top of you, now on her haunches, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. She held his gaze as she pressed her tongue flat against before taking a glorious, heavy-gazed lick.

Daemon swallows.

"Is that- ahhh, okay? Nyra, hmm? Please?" You sigh ever so sweetly, kindly. Though you're ridiculously spoiled, you were a good girl, following so obediently. If his cock didn't feel like it was burning to be inside your mouth, he would have revelled in it.

You squirm, turning back to him to hold his gaze while his wife started to fuck you through her tongue and fingers.

Someone up there was taking a piss on him. He pulls out his cock, a grunt and a curse, because fuck it, fuck you in particular— as the two of you continued on while keeping eye contact with him.

He took one step closer and Rhaenyra hissed.

"Whatever you want, baby." Nyra smirks against your pussy as he tugged at himself, teeth bared. "You're his punishment after all."

[targaryen-dynasty]

SUSPICIOUS SILENCE.

Modern!Daemon Targaryen x pregnant!wife!Reader

WARNINGS: Family fluff, hinted lactation kink lol

WORDS: 986

NOTES: Here is the fluff everyone (me lmao) wanted!! Love me some nice happy family scenarios with our favorite men, tbh. And I'm stuck in limbo with Object of Desire right now! This is not beta read!

Daemon was working from home today to take care of your daughter while you were out for brunch with Floris, his nephew’s wife that’s also winding down the halfway mark of pregnancy just like you. 

And although it’s around your toddler’s daytime nap time, it’s too quiet when you open the front door to your penthouse. Suspiciously quiet. 

You should be hearing Daemon talk on the phone or type on his keyboard, very rarely even doing the cleaning. But the door to his office is ajar, the light is turned on, however, there’s complete silence. 

As you walk towards it, peeking into the room, you notice it’s vacant, the large office chair empty. 

You frown, and continue to walk along the hallway. There’s nervousness creeping up on you, mostly because Daemon would’ve messaged you if he decided to go outside with your daughter, and you start to rub your protruding bump in a reassuring manner. That is, until you stand in the door to the living space; the sight you’re greeted with immediately melting your heart. 

Daemon is lying on the sofa, bare chested and a towel still clutched in his right hand, and your little daughter is firmly tucked into his left side, her cheek pressed against his chest with his hand resting on her back. 

The sight of your little daughter sleeping soundly in his arms is enough to make you smile. Despite his rough exterior, your big, tough husband also is a loving father who doesn’t hesitate to do anything for his family. 

You walk over to him, and press a gentle kiss to his forehead which slowly makes his mesmerizing blue eyes creak open. Squinting them to adjust to the brightness of the room, he doesn’t move a muscle besides that to not wake the sleeping toddler up. 

Daemon gazes up at you with a soft stare, before finally speaking with a low voice. “Hello, darling. How was your day?”

Caressing his arm tenderly, you smile at him. “It was alright. You two are enjoying some quality time, I see,” you whisper. “Had a nice nap?”

“Aye, we had quite a fun time. Wanted to take a quick shower while she was asleep, but she woke up and needed me to comfort her.”

You gently fondle your daughter’s hair, smoothing it as you both just watch her for a moment. “I’ll watch her for a little while if you still want to take a shower,” you eventually propose. 

But your husband isn’t having any of it. “Nah, how about you join us now, and we both take that shower together once this little monkey’s in bed, mh?” His hand clasps around your wrist, and he gently tugs you towards the sofa, not giving you any chance to reject his offer. 

His proposition makes you chuckle softly, and you feel your cheeks turn red. If there is one thing your husband knows, it’s how to take care of you, too. After the birth of your daughter, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body, especially with the weight you’ve gained throughout the pregnancy. But there hasn’t passed one moment where Daemon hasn’t made you feel desired and wanted by him, and the look he currently gives you is enough to send your hormones raging again.

Throwing the towel aside, you sit down to his right and snuggle up against him. His right hand snakes around your waist, instinctively coming to rest atop your swollen belly, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his irresistible scent. 

The toddler stirs slightly in her sleep, but isn’t too fazed by the slight commotion of you joining them on the sofa. 

“You do make a convincing argument,” you whisper, licking your lips.   

Noticing the sudden flush of color that appears on your cheeks, a mischievous glint flickers in his eyes. He nudges his nose against yours, and it’s enough to coax you to kiss him. It’s soft, barely more than a peck, and you’re struggling to keep yourself composed hearing his next words. 

“I can convince you of far better things once we’re all by ourselves, darling.”

You chuckle at his remark, and place your hand atop his on your bump, squeezing it softly. “Make sure to keep that promise. Don’t want to hope you’re just all talk,” you tease, your eyes flickering between his and his lips. “There are two things I definitely need your help with, Daddy.” 

Briefly glancing down at your swollen breasts, already producing enough milk as if they mean to provide for twins, you can spot the exact moment Daemon’s brain processes the innuendo. 

You follow his line of sight, lingering a tad too long on your full breasts, and chuckle as you notice his breath hitch in his throat. 

Daemon gives you a teasing look, the blue hue of his eyes almost eclipsed by black at this point, and bites his bottom lip. “I’m sure I can assist you thoroughly with whatever you need, darling.”

Running a hand through his hair before you slowly rise from the sofa, you giggle as you see him pout. “Let’s see then how well you follow through on your promises, Daddy,” you say, bringing your index finger to your lips as if you’re in thought. “Maybe we should ask Rhaenyra to take our girl for the night? Jace is just a few months older, and he’s completely besotted with her. We haven’t had any alone time in ages, and I’m sure she and Harwin won’t mind.” 

You can’t see the look on Daemon’s face at your suggestion, for you make yourself on your way to prepare the afternoon snack for your soon-to-wake daughter, but you hear him sigh loud and clear, and it’s enough to make you grin and your heart flutter. Just the anticipation of finally having some well deserved alone time with him again makes your blood run hot. 

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @valeskafics @connorsui @arcielee @watercolorskyy @black-dread @darylandbethfanforever9 @croatianprincess @snowystark @moonlightfoxx @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fan-goddess @at-a-rax-ia @tsujifreya @nothingqueens @ashovertheriver @bbgmonsay @doublesparrows @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @thought--bubble

Daemon Taglist: @barbiedragon @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bound By Blood

Being on your period was already a pain as it is, but accidentally binding yourself to a demon with a menstrual pad was a real cherry on top.

demon!Daemon Targaryen x Reader x bf!Aemond Targaryen | 2k+| cw: fem!reader, modern au, menstruation and its symptoms (duh), bloody depictions, crack fic, dumbass shenanigans, internet translated high Valyrian, typos, etc.

A/N: after reading @happilyhertale's period fic and @lady-phasma's period fic, i remembered a tumblr post i saw a long time ago about how napkins have really pretty designs for no reason cuz ur gonna get blood all over it anyway. as tumblr posts do, it spiraled and someone likened the designs to like a pentagram then someone was like u could accidentally summon a demon, thus this. i really did try to find it but alas i could not

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @ceoofyearning

@targaryenmoony @risefallrise @thebullship @sa3losa @pendragora @sloanexx

If you've ever had a hard time with your period, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe, as the people in Palestine do not have access to any sort of feminine hygiene products; help her and her family evacuate.

"Lovie?"

"Yeah?"

I put my phone on loud speaker and place it on the side of the sink, "did I tell you to buy macadamia chocolates?"

"... no. I'll get you some."

"And something salty," I sit on the toilet and open my pad packet. I peel the red wrapper off.

"Mmm... crisps?"

"Yeah, the pink one."

"Alright. Anything else, love?"

I change the napkin on my underwear before replying, "mmm... oh! Please read the packaging. I want pads with wings, Aemond, with wings."

"Right. Copy, copy. With wings."

I pull my shorts up and flush the toilet, "thank you, love."

"Mmm. Love you. Bye."

"Bye, love. I love you."

The call ends and I wrap my used napkin in the wrapper of my new pad, rolling it up, and throwing it out. I grab my phone and walk back to my bed.

I huff and get under the sheets, petting the black cat asleep on top of it. Vhagar wags her tail once and I grab my laptop, continuing my binge session.

I wince when I feel a dull pain in my uterus. I pause my show and lean into my pillow, riding out the discomfort.

I moan and begin to heave. My eye twitches at the stabbing sensation. I slowly get out of bed, annoyed by the gush of blood I feel when I move. I make my way to my kitchen and grip on the counter as I prepare a kettle for some tea.

"Stop hating me cause I'm not pregnant," I hiss at my uterus as the pain continues.

I push my weight onto the counter top as I reach for a mug and a tea bag. I huff and screw my eyes. Once the pain subsides enough, I grab my kettle and turn, putting it on the stove. Once the fire is lit, I turn back to grab my mug and place the tea bag in my mug.

Suddenly, the room is thick, the atmosphere is heavy, and there is an inexplicable feeling of dread in my stomach. I feel my body warm and the hairs at the back of my neck raise, and it was not because of my period.

"Iksis ziry iā rūs jaelā?" Is it a baby you want?

I gasp and snap back, pulling my mug to my chest. My eyes widen and my heart leaps into my throat as I behold a towering figure covered in blood. Its body is barely contained in the room; its long neck coils downward to peer at me and its wings are cramped together behind itself. It's as though all the blood in my body drains.

The dragon-like creature chuckles deeply, his golden eyes sparkle, "gaoman jorrāelagon se yknagon hen zūgagon," I do love the smell of fear. It reaches out and delicately scratches its talons on my neck, "but I would not frighten you to death before completing our pact, devoted."

My body is frozen cold in fear as he pulls away. Slowly, its body morphs into a man. The reptilian features and glistening scales where replaced by long, silver hair and plump, smirking lips, all still drenched in blood. His expression mischievous and expectant.

"Ask of me, and see the beauty in thine blood offering to Daemon, The Rogue Prince."

Through barely a breath, in the most strained of voices, I mutter, "w h a t ?"

A rich chuckle bubbles out of his curved lips, "oh, I do loathe the coy and simple-minded. If you wish to amuse me, flatter me. Do not play dumb."

I slowly try to maneuver away from him, "I-" I whisper under sharp breaths, "I don't know what you mean-"

In a rush of either confidence or lunacy, I sprint away from him and run back into the bedroom. I scream and halt in my spot when I collide with the same being's chest.

I feel blood stick to me as I recoil and drop to the floor at the impact. The creature looks down on me and lifts his chin, "what's that then?"

Daemon points to the floor, causing me to look and see nothing but the panels.

Just then, Vhagar awakes and begins to go feral. She hisses loudly at the man, and I scramble to my feet, trying to get to her and calm her down, fearing he blood bathed being would kill her.

Remarkably, it seems I should actually do the opposite as the demon is deterred by Vhagar. He steps back and lowers his gaze. He chuckles dryly as I jump on the bed, going behind Vhagar.

"What is this trickery?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

He scoffs and I swear his eyes are set ablaze, "I am bound by my sigil, woman, and I smell the blood on it."

My face morphs into bewilderment, "I DID NOT MAKE A BLOOD SACRIFICE-"

"Where is your summoning circle then!" he demands.

Vhagar hisses at his tone, her fur prickling as Daemon steps forward. He stills and draws in a deep breath. I swear his eyes go red for a second.

He points again, this time at me, "your legs."

My eyes widen preternaturally.

"My blood altar is between your thighs."

Meanwhile, Aemond was on the bus when he received a call.

He picks it up, "hel-"

"THERE'S A-" he pulls his phone away from his ear, "-DEMON IN OUR HOME! AEMOND-"

Aemond knits his brows tightly in concern at the sound of sobbing. He pulls his groceries closer to his chest, "honey, what do me--"

"THERE'S A DEMON IN OUR- VHAGAR NO--"

Aemond's heart drops at the sound of the commotion from the other end of the call. He hears cat yowling and objects crashing. He stiffens and speaks as calmly as possible, "I'm coming home. I'm almost there. Can you hear me, I-" the call ends.

By the time he gets home, his defenses are up. The ruckus from the inside is audible from outside the apartment. He holds his groceries in one hand and opens the door, warily entering. He grabs the long purple umbrella by the rack and closes the door soundlessly. He stalks inside, clenching his jaw at the sudden silence.

He surveys the place and sees the mess, yet no soul was present. He places the groceries on the kitchen top and creeps into the bedroom.

The door was already open, but, still, there was no one.

He freezes when Vhagar hisses. He lifts his gaze upon the black, senior cat sat at the top of the closet, looking into space with her fur raised.

"Aemond?!"

Aemond lowers his gaze.

"NO, DON'T HURT HIM!" I scream from inside the closet.

Aemond grips the umbrella and looks around the room. Vhagar hisses again.

He looks at his cat then the closet door.

"AEMOND- NO-- I'M PULLING YOU IN-"

Without another word, I leap out of the closet and grab Aemond, yanking him inside. I immediately shut the doors and begin to hyperventilate.

"What's happening? What's going on?" he asks, clutching my cheeks.

I whine and grip his wrists in distress. I whisper, "Vhagar's keeping us safe."

Aemond's nostrils flare, "what's happening? What's wrong?"

I shake my head and shudder, "there's a demon--"

"You know I can hear you right?"

I squeal, making Aemond tense and tighten his grip on me. I hear Vhagar hiss from above the closet.

Without much thought, Aemond pushes the doors open and holds his umbrella like a weapon.

I scream and pull him back when I hear sinister laughtera, "AEMOND, NO!"

Aemond claims an offensive stance, ready to bat his umbrella at whomever was in front of him, and yet there was no one. My breath hitches as I anticipate Daemon to jump us both, but he doesn't.

With furrowed brows, the man looks over to me, "baby, there's no o-"

Aemond yelps as I rush out of the closet and drag him out of the bedroom with me. We make our way to the kitchen, and I immediately rummage through the groceries, grabbing the pack of pads.

"Honey, what was it exactly that you-" Aemond cuts himself off as he watches me run out of the room, heading to the bathroom.

Immediately, I pull my shorts down and replace my bloody pad. I stare at the menstrual blood on the white napkin, realizing only now that there was, in fact, a sigil of a three headed dragon on the surface.

"There is it."

I scream. I look up at the bloody Daemon staring back at me, smirking with crossed arms.

I hear Aemond run towards the bathroom door. He calls out my name in concern.

I rip my used napkin off my underwear and chuck it to the demon. I scream once more when he manifests beside me, avoiding my assault.

"Unsanitary," Daemon clicks his tongue.

Aemond bangs on the door, "what's going on? Do you need any help?"

I sidestep away from Daemon and hurriedly replace my pad.

Aemond calls out my name as he knocks.

Daemon turns to the door, lips curling in annoyance, "I will slay him if he enters."

My eyes widen. It was only then I realized there was a sword hanging upon his hip. I feel sick.

Aemonds sounds agitated, "I'm coming insi-"

"NO!" I rip my pants up and run to the door. I shove Aemond back the moment I can. I squeeze myself out of the small opening and I push him back until he finally repels me and grabs my arms. Aemond and I are in the kitchen by then.

He calls out my name and grabs my cheeks. His face is marked by worry.

I panic, "wait, where's Vhagar?"

"She's probably just-"

"DID HE KILL VHAGAR-"

"Look at me!"

I stare at him with wide, watery eyes. I whimper through a broken voice, "Vhagar was the only thing keeping me safe."

"From the demon?" Aemond asks carefully, swiping my tears with his thumbs.

"Please-" I choke out, "-believe me, I-"

"I believe you, darling," he strokes my hair. He pulls away and grabs the salt jar on the counter. He shows me the container before pouring some in his hand.

I raise my brows as he presents me the salt in his cupped palm.

Aemond speaks calmly, "if I see that fucker, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

Aemond shrieks and chucks the salt behind me. In the same terrified manner, I squeal and run behind Aemond.

The demon groans, "ao doru-borto qogralbar!" You stupid fuck!

Aemond pushes me behind him as he watches the blood covered man rub his eyes. He almost, out of instinct, chucked the whole jar at him, but he was glad he didn't. He pours a salt circle on the floor.

Aemond pulls me into his chest and begins to chant, "qrīdrughagon lēda ao!" Away with you!

Daemon looks up at us with a furious expression. His rage is quelled but when he sees the ground which we stood. His red eyes widen as he looks up at me, as if in disbelief of what he was seeing.

I tug on Aemond's shirt with agitation, "is this circle gonna keep us-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!" Aemond shouts.

Daemon's eye twitches, "who is this imbecile you seek refuge in?"

"Don't answer it! Don't give him my name," Aemond says as he fishes something in his pocket.

"You act as though I know not your name is Aemond, imbecile."

"Aemond, I really think we-"

"Ignore him," says Aemond as he pulls out his phone.

Daemon chuckles darkly, "oh... how sweet you think such a thing is possible.

I cling tightly onto Aemond as he pulls out his phone. I whimper, "is now really the time?!"

"I'm calling Aegon," Aemond replies, placing his phone to his ear.

"What?!"

"He knows how to do an exorcism."

"?!?!?"

"You dare," Daemon yells, "think that I-"

"He was recruited in a cult once."

"-would be easily cast out by m-"

"QRĪDRUGHAGON LĒDA AO!"

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider donating €5 to Nour's GoFundMe so that she and her family can evacuate and experience the luxury of reading fics in the safety of their homes.

[sapphire-writes]

The Au Pair (modern!HOTD) part 1

Part 1 ~ Part 2

pairing: Daemon x fem!Reader x Rhaenyra

summary: You take a new job nannying for a family on the Upper East Side. You find yourself intrigued by both parents.

warnings: 18+ (slight power imbalance as they're your bosses, sensual themes), language

word count: 3.1k

note: I've been in a Daemon x Rhae mood and this idea came to me and suddenly it is here, enjoy my loves!

When you looked up at the high-rise apartment building, you felt your stomach drop. You had always been that way with heights, whether looking down or looking up at something tall, the feeling of intense vertigo washing over you. You took in a deep breath to steady yourself, draining the rest of your coffee before walking in. 

Throwing the cup in a nearby bin, you popped a mint into your mouth to hopefully disguise your coffee breath. 

You’d nannied before but never au-paired. It seemed to be a little more intense, having you live with the family, and become a part of the family. But you had to get out of your current living situation, and the website was too tempting to pass up. 

You didn’t even think you’d get a response when you sent in your resume. You recognized the family name; old money, the backbone of Wall Street. It was too good to be true when you received an email inviting you in person for an interview.

Still, the thought of caring for three boys was nearly overwhelming. 

“You’ll only truly be a little help,” Rhaenyra had told you, after leading you through the foyer, giving you hot tea in a cup that felt so delicate it might break in your small hands. 

Rhaenyra had ushered you to the sofa, before sitting in the one directly across. She crossed her ankles, clad in a dark maroon suit, her silver hair striking against the wine-colored fabric. She was ethereally beautiful, the kind of pretty that takes your breath away. 

“Luke and Joff are the littles, they require the most attention,” Rhaenyra explained.

You take a sip of the tea, warmth flooding through you.

“How old are they?” you ask, blowing on the tea. 

“Jacaerys is the oldest, he’s nine, then there’s Luke who is seven, and little Joffrey is only four,” Rhaenyra tells you.

“No girls?” you ask and she shakes her head. 

“Daemon’s daughters Baela and Rhaena sometimes visit during the week, they’re nine as well. They live with their mother mostly, and often spend the weekends with us.”

“You have a full house,” you comment, smiling.

“Several,” Rhaenyra answers, mirroring your smile, “We have two apartments here, in the city, during the weekends we go to our house, outside of the city.”

“That’s wonderful, that you’re able to get away,” you tell her, “the city can be overwhelming.”

“I agree,” she says, “it’s nice to have an escape. So, tell me about yourself,” she cocks her head to the side, “what made you want this position?”

You sigh, deciding it's best to be truthful.

“Well, I’ve worked with kids before, on and off,” you begin, “some babysitting, nannying, I was a camp counselor for one summer.”

Rhaenyra nods, her violet eyes warm and inviting.

“I also, just recently lost my apartment,” you tell her, “it’s a long story, but I need to be out by the end of the month, so a job that comes with a place to live was very tempting.”

Rhaenyra smiles, and you nervously play with the rings on your fingers. 

“I can be really good with the kids, I think we’ll get along great.”

Rhaenyra looks you up and down as the door opens. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen walks in, throwing his briefcase on the counter. His silver hair falls in front of his eyes as he leans against the counter, tapping his ring-clad fingers against the black marble.

“Daemon,” she calls, not turning around, “meet our guest.”

Daemon simply glances at you, busy with something on his phone.

“He’ll warm up, don’t you worry,” Rhaenya says, standing.

“I won’t let you down if given this opportunity,” you tell her, placing your teacup down and standing to leave.

“I know you won’t,” she says, taking your arm to lead you to the door, “let me discuss with my husband, and we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, truly,” you tell her at the door, “It was nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Rhaenyra,” she insists.

“Rhaenyra,” you say, and she leads you out.

Rhaenyra sighs, returning to the couch and flipping through your resume once more. 

“I’m shocked you let her leave,” Daemon says, dropping a kiss on Rhaenyra’s head, and squeezing her shoulder with a ring-clad hand.

“She’ll be back,” Rhaenyra assures him, “I’m taking it slow.”

“Surprising,” Daemon says, “with her calling you ma’am so sweetly.”

Rhaenyra merely glances up at him, smiling coyly at her husband. 

“I’ll give her a call this evening then,” Rhaneyra says, kissing the back of his hand, “officially offer her the job?”

“Call her now, if you like,” Daemon tells her.

“She’s probably still in the building,” Rhaenyra says with a chuckle.

“Even better,” Daemon says.

Rhaenyra hums, pulling out her phone.

“Someone’s eager,” Rhaenyra teases, earning a low growl from her husband.

After celebratory drinks with your girlfriends and packing all your shit into boxes, a car picks you up bringing you to your new home. You’re shown to your room by one of the housekeepers. It’s perfect for you, with large windows and a private bathroom. The bed feels like heaven as you lay on top of it. You can’t believe your luck. 

You’re introduced to the boys when they come home from school. While Jace is apprehensive, Luke warms to you right away, insisting on showing you his collection of Lego model sets. Dragons are his favorite at the moment. You spend the afternoon with them, and the day flies by. 

Only when you’re in your room later, fresh out of the shower and dressed for bed do you realize you’ve lost something rather important in the move. You silently curse, and pad down the hallway toward the home office Rhaenyra uses. 

“Mrs. Targaryen?” you ask, knocking on the office door.

Rhaenyra beckons you in, smiling, removing her blue light glasses and looking away from the computer. 

“I’m so sorry to bother you-”

“Nonsense, darling, what is it?” Rhaenyra says, lacing her fingers together, “and what did I say about addressing me?”

You blush, forgetting yourself. You find it easy to get flustered in Rhaenyra’s presence. 

“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra,” you correct yourself.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” she tells you.

Her tone is so sweet, so kind, and loving that it almost makes you want to apologize again. You release a breathy laugh instead. 

“I seem to have lost my hairbrush in the move,” you tell her, “you wouldn’t happen to have an extra one lying around?”

Rhaenyra stands, walking out from behind her desk and toward you. 

“Of course, come here,” she tells you, reaching for your hand.

It's warm and soft as she interlaces her fingers with yours, pulling you out of the home office and down the hallway. You haven’t yet seen Daemon and Rhaenyra’s room, though you realize this is about to change. She opens the door and brings you into their room. 

You can’t help but gawk at windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling revealing the New York City skyline. The curtains are still open, revealing the sparkling city below. Daemon is already seated in bed on top of the covers reading, looking up as you enter with Rhaenyra. 

“Already?” he asks, and Rhaenyra shushes him.

“Our friend is without a hairbrush,” she says, releasing your hand and moving to enter the master bathroom. 

Daemon hums at her response, returning to his book. The bed is huge, big enough to comfortably fit the whole family if they wanted. The sheets are a deep gray, and look like they’re made of the softest silk. You almost want to reach out and touch them, feel the softness when Rhaenyra reenters the room.

“Sit,” she tells you, motioning to the bed.

“That’s okay,” you assure her, “I can-”

“It’s the least I can do,” she interrupts.

You want to argue with her. They’re letting you live in a gorgeous highrise on the Upper East Side and essentially want for nothing, and yet they’re the ones who are grateful? You suppose it just shows what good parents they are, wanting nothing but the best for the boys. It warms your heart knowing you can help support them in that way. 

Rhaenyra motions to the bed once more and you sit down on the edge. You know immediately that sleeping in that bed would cure any problems you’ve ever had. It’s so soft against you and you run your hand over the sheets. Rhaenyra sits next to you, crossing her legs. 

“Turn for me,” she says, and you move so your back faces her. 

She takes your hair, still wet from your shower, and runs her hands through it gently. You can feel her nails against your scalp causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. She moves the hair from your neck before gently beginning to brush through your hair. It’s so relaxing your eyes flutter shut. 

Daemon is watching now, closing his book and leaning his head back against the headboard. Rhaenyra meets his gaze and his eyes narrow. She flicks an eyebrow at him, continuing. Daemon sticks his tongue against his cheek before rising from the bed. You open your eyes as you feel him move, watching as you walk by you, stopping to press a kiss against Rhaenyra’s cheek.

He heads into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as you hear the shower turn on. Rhaenyra places the brush on your lap.

“There you are,” she tells you, placing her hands on your shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank you,” you tell her earnestly. 

Her kindness brings tears to your eyes and you find yourself wanting to hug her, bury your face in the crook of her neck, and have her lavish your face with kisses. The thought brings a blush to your cheeks. She’s your boss. Still, as you get up to leave and bid her goodnight, you find your gaze falling to her lips. You look away quickly.

“Thank you again, Rhaenyra,” you tell her, “For everything. I’m really grateful for this opportunity.”

Rhaenyra smiles, smoothing some hair from your face.

“We’re happy to have you,” she tells you, “Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight,” you tell her, leaving the room and heading to your own.

Daemon reappears with wet hair and a towel around his waist. Droplets of water cling to his chest and shoulders. Rhaenyra smirks at him.

“Enjoy your cold shower?” she teases and he chuckles in response. 

The following week is a test run, seeing how you handle the boys and their schedule. It’s easy enough-no scarily easy. The boys are a dream, so well behaved and respectful toward you, and enjoying the attention that is devoted to them while their mother and stepfather are busy working. 

Your schedule is simple. Wake up, make sure the boys get their breakfast, escort them to school, and then the rest of the morning and early afternoon is yours. Rhaenyra has assured you that sometimes she shall give you some errands to run, but for the most part, you’re free to ponder around different coffee shops and bookstores and attend your university classes. 

You pick up Joffrey first, as his daycare releases him in the early afternoon, and bring him on a walk. Then you wait for Jace and Luke to end their school days and escort them to their afterschool activities. You almost feel bad for Rhaenyra and Daemon, like you’re taking advantage of them somehow. It shouldn’t be this easy, right? It can’t be this perfect?

You’re still lost in your thoughts while you sit on a park bench watching Joffrey toddle about on a play structure as someone sits down beside you. You blink, pulled from your thoughts, giving her a kind smile. 

“You’re the new Targaryen AP, right?” the girl asks, smiling at you.

“Yeah!” you answer, telling her your name. 

“I’m Shae,” she tells you, “The Lannister’s Au Pair.”

You nod. You’ve heard that name before. Shae points at a little girl with golden curls on the swings. 

“Cerelle Lannister, one of the little lions I look after,” she says chuckling. 

She motions for your phone.

“Here, let me put in my number,” she tells you, and you smile while handing her your phone, “We have to stick together, you know?”

“Thanks,” you tell her, “I’d love to get coffee sometime and get some advice. This is my first time being an Au Pair.”

Shae raises an eyebrow as she adds her number. 

“Good luck with the Targaryens,” she tells you chuckling, “they can’t seem to hold onto an AP for more than a month.”

Your brow furrows and you glance at the boys. You can see Jace running across the soccer field and Luke on the other side with the younger boys. Joffrey plays on the playground, staying in your line of sight. You can’t help but smile.

“I don’t see why,” you tell her, “the boys are great. Very well behaved, impressive manners. Better than me.”

Shae laughs. 

“It’s Daemon and Rhaenyra I’d be wary of,” Shae tells you, voice lowering with the nature of the conversation, “the last girl they had was doing fine until suddenly she’s signing an NDA and being shipped out of New York. I never spoke to her again.”

A chill rolls through you. 

Jace calls your name, running over to you.

“Did you see what I did!” he says, a huge grin on his face, Luke trailing behind him.

“You were so awesome Jacey!” you tell him, ruffling his hair.

They’ve warmed up to you immediately. 

You keep thinking about what Shae said all night. When you join the kids for dinner, Rhaenyra and Daemon do not, as they ended up having to work late. When you tuck them in and return to your room you find a small box on your bed. 

You open it, revealing a small necklace. Dainty, and expensive, with a small pearl hanging off the chain. 

A gift. 

You pick up the card that goes with it.

For all your help, xx

There’s no signature. Though you suppose it must be from Rhaenyra. You blush at the kind gesture before retiring to bed for the night, curling up in the soft sheets with a book.

The next few weeks go smoothly, and without any fusses. The boys are lovely as ever and easy to drag around to different parks, activities, and school functions. They’re starting to feel like your little brothers, like your own children even. You journey with them to the weekend house, an hour outside the city, roasting marshmallows, swimming in the gorgeous pool, and taking them to get ice cream. It’s paradise, it’s a dream. 

You see Rhaenyra more than Daemon, though she was right. He does seem to be warming up to you, glancing at you more, checking in on you. Sitting with you when you’re at the counter for breakfast. Letting a hand drift across your back as he passes by.

You keep finding gifts. A silk robe, a new purse, a pair of earrings that match the necklace given to you. Fresh flowers by your bedside. It’s very sweet of them, to be so welcoming. Almost romantic. 

Later one night during the week, you can’t seem to find sleep.

You make your way to the kitchen, feet padding softly down the hallway. Rhaenyra had said to help yourself to anything, what’s theirs is yours. You’d been craving something sweet since dinner. Since moving into the highrise your palate has begun to adjust to the rich, expensive foods the chef makes and has begun to spoil you. You’re starting to wonder how you’ll ever go back to living normally when this job ends. It’s not something you want to think about. You’re determined to stay as long as possible. 

You open the fridge, the light bathing the floor in front of you. You look around, moving things trying to find a treat. Their fridge is crazy stocked, full of fresh fruits and vegetables, and green juices. Things that sound good any time but now. Now you need chocolate. 

“Looking for something?” a deep voice calls and you jump.

“Shit, you scared me, sir,” you say, holding your hand against your chest. 

Daemon moves toward you from the shadows, silk pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He’s shirtless and you make a point to look at his lavender eyes. They’re almost black in the low light, a smirk dancing on his lips. 

“I was just looking for something sweet,” you tell him, biting your lip.

“Something sweet, hmm?” he echoes, reaching around you to open the freezer. 

You back up, suddenly very aware of your choice of pajamas. Another gift you’d found waiting on your bed, a silky red set. The tank top hands low, the shorts hugging the curves of your ass and thighs. 

“Try this,” Daemon says, holding out some gelato.

You let out a breathy sigh. 

“What?” Daemon asks, tilting his head curiously.

“Everything here is so fancy,” you tell him, “even the ice cream.”

“Isn't it nice to have expensive things?” he asks, unscrewing the lid and throwing it on the black marble counter.

“I don’t know if I’ll like it,” you tell him, nose scrunching.

He chuckles, cocking an eyebrow. Daemon reaches for a drawer, pulling out a long silver spoon, perfect for ice cream. He dips it into the gelato before bringing his violet eyes to yours.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, holding the spoon out to your lips.

With his seductive tone, the roughness of his voice floating over you like silk caressing your skin, you instinctively part your lips, accepting the sweet treat. It’s cold and sweet as it moves across your tongue, sliding down your throat. A bit dribbles on your lips as Daemon removes the spoon from the confines of your mouth. A small remnant of the cream lingers on the spoon and Daemon places it between his lips. 

Your eyes are wide, watching him suck on it, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. He removes the spoon, licking his lips. You bring your hand to your lips wiping away the trace of cream that remains.

“Do you like it?” Daemon asks, voice gruff, eyes hungry for more than gelato. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

He smiles and then places the container in your hand.

“Enjoy,” he tells you, before walking out of the kitchen. 

You stay still, standing dumb for several minutes after he leaves, feeling the container of gelato begin to soften the longer you hold it. Snapping out of your trance, you hurry back to your room, closing the door behind you. 

note: hope you enjoyed my loves! 😘

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[thefangdomcryptid]

Daemon Targaryen Modern AU

[lokisprettygirl]

Twice the love (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern Au)

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2

Summary: Daemon gives you a choice.

Warning: 18+, Sexual assualt, blackmailing, abusive relationship Drowning, Resuscitation, suicide, cheating

His grip on your forearm was tight as he hauled you towards the hotel room and as soon as the room arrived he shoved you in and glared at you.

“I saw you kissing him you fucking whore” he said as he advanced towards you in the manner that always made you afraid.

“I wouldn't have if I knew you had a twin brother, you never told me about him why?” You asked him so he closed the distance between you both.

“It's my family, I'll decide when I want to share about them” he sneered as he glared at you.

“You lied to me that night.. didn't you? You never saved my life -” Before you could finish your words he had your chin between his fingers in a tight painful vise.

“And? What's your point? Why does it matter? It's been two years, love, you love me now don't you or it was all lies hmm?” He asked you and the confirmation made tears roll down your eyes, not that you needed it, the moment you had kissed his brother you knew he was the one.

The man who saved your life couldn't have been this callous with you. Your mind reminisced the moment you had kissed him, Daemon, his touch was so tender, so unlike what you had in Raymond at the moment.

“I can't do this anymore -” you raised your voice but that only earned you a harsh slap on the cheek in response, the last time he had hit you he had promised to never do it again, his promises didn't really mean much though.

“You are going to be mine sweetheart, for as long as I want” he sneered as he pushed you down on the bed, his tone dripping with malice “Do you not remember those pictures and videos I took of you hmm? Do you want them out for the whole world to see? Want to show them what a whore you are?”

You froze as he loomed over you, shock coursing through your body. Despite his past transgressions, you hadn't expected him to stoop to this level. Few months into the relationship he had persuaded and pressured you into making the video, the idea had made you uneasy, but your love for him had overridden your reservations. And now, those foolish choices were coming back to haunt you once again.

You laid motionless beneath him until he was satisfied, until he was exhausted and worn himself out before drifting into sleep, you watched him carefully to make sure he was deep in sleep and then you grabbed a shawl to wrap it around yourself as you stepped out of the room and took the elevator down to the lobby. As soon as the elevator door opened you flinched as you saw Daemon, they looked so similar it unnerved you now. For a moment you thought it was Raymond.

Without saying a word you walked past him so he sighed and hesitated for a moment before he followed you out of the hotel, he had noticed the red mark on your cheek, he knew his brother and he knew what he was capable of.

There was a beach nearby and as he watched you heading towards it he caught up with you, his presence made you halt your steps and stare at him.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you crossed your arms.

“It's late, I'm making sure you-” you interrupted him before he could even finish his words.

“What? Making sure I won't Drown again?”

You snapped at him, knowing far too well that your anger was misplaced, it hurt knowing that the man you loved wasn't really the man you wanted to love, knowing that the man who saved your life wasn't the one you had spent two years with. You felt foolish.

“Just want to make sure you are safe” your eyes teared up as he said that, he had the same voice as Raymond but there was a softness in his tone that was unmatched and foreign to you, you weren't used to a man speaking to you this way.

As you turned to walk towards the shoreline again he followed you and then sat down next to you, there was a slight chill in the winds so he took off his coat and placed it around you even though you had a shawl already.

For a few moments none of you said anything, but then he couldn't take the silence anymore.

“Why were you in the water that night darling?” He asked you, making your eyes well up again for two different reasons, the memories of that night still haunted you and you realized how Raymond had never cared to even ask why you had given up on your life.

“It was an accident” you answered, trying to keep your voice nonchalant but failing miserably.

“I watched you go in” he mumbled softly but there was a hint of sadness in his tone “I was on a phone call, not far away from you, I saw you go in, you didn't fall, nobody pushed you”

As tears rolled down your eyes he quietly leaned his shoulder into yours, he didn't want to get into your personal space but he wanted to comfort you, he had thought about you almost every day for the past three years.

You were quiet for a minute before you spoke again,

“Life at home wasn't..great. My father often got mad at the drop of a hat, one minute he was fine, the funniest man in the room, the other moment he'd be verbally abusing everyone around him. It was confusing, I didn't know whether I was supposed to be happy and enjoy the moment or not whenever I was around him” your voice choked on your tears but you continued ,

‘My mother on the other hand, she never thought of anyone else above herself, in her mind the world revolved around her, that trait was shared by her and my dad, they always had an opinion about everything I did, nothing I did seemed to be enough for them. So as I got older I moved out, i know they were toxic, but at least i could go home at times and be with them, talk to them, still have a family, that Christmas three years ago, everything changed, a disagreement happened between me and my mother and my dad wanted to hit me because of it, that was the last time I saw them or talked to them, i wasn't in good headspace, I lost the only family I had, I had no family anymore” you looked down as you said that, trying to keep your tears at bay, you really wanted to tell him about that night, you always wanted to share.

“So when I got drunk that night, the ocean didn't seem to scare me anymore, it felt like an escape -”

He didn't interrupt you as you spoke, not once, a part of him knew you needed to let it out of your system.

“That's not to say that I wanted to die..as soon as I felt that i was drowning I begged to the universe to pull me out somehow, make a miracle happen, i wanted my life back so I could live it on my own terms now-” your voice choked so he placed his hand on yours, his thumb brushed gently over your skin so you looked at him.

“And then you saved me, like an angel” you mumbled so he brought his fingers up to tuck your hair behind your ears before he responded.

“I was no angel my darling, I was just around” you shook your head as he said that.

“For me you were, i could never get you out of my head, so when I saw you a year later, i latched onto you like a koala bear, except it wasn't really you..it was your brother” his eyes teared up as you said that,

“He lied to you didn't he?” he asked and you couldn't help but chuckle.

“I'm the fool here”

“No you are not, I'd have done the same if it was me”

He wasn't telling you what you wanted to hear, he was telling you the truth, if he had found a twin of yours he would have latched onto you as well.

“I know my brother, he has always been troubled, to put it mildly-”

“He never told me about you”

“Why would he? He despises my existence” he said as he brought his fingers up to caress the mark on your cheek “You don't deserve this after everything you have been through darling”

You opened your mouth to say something but then Raymond's threat flashed through your mind.

“I should get back before he-”

You quickly got up so he sighed and stood up as well, you couldn't help but stare at him as you walked side by side, the way he talked to you, comforted you, his gentle aura, it reminded you of that man you had built up in your dreams but it was pointless to think about it now, you were stuck with Raymond and he won't let you go until he was bored.

“It was lovely meeting you again, I never got the chance to thank you for doing what you had done for me”

You said to him as the hotel arrived so he nodded, he wanted to say something too but he didn't know how you'd take it at this moment.

“Good night” you mumbled softly as you went into the hotel, when you reached the room Raymond was still asleep so you breathed a sigh of relief, as you went to the bathroom you realized you hadn't returned his coat and you'd be in so much trouble if Raymond would find it the next morning so you hid his coat in your luggage.

Next day as you were getting ready for the wedding Raymond approached you and hugged you from behind.

“I'm sorry about last night, I was in a bad mood” you stared at him in the mirror as he said that, this was a pattern you were familiar with by now.

“Okay” you responded casually so he grabbed your chin and turned you towards him

“Okay? That's all hmm? You're not going to throw tantrums?” he snickered so you shook your head in response.

“No”

“Good girl..I love you”

He pecked your lips before he stepped away from you. Every inch of your skin felt disgusted, it was easier to tolerate his behavior when you were burdened by the knowledge of him being your savior but after meeting Daemon, after realizing that the man who had saved your life was exactly how you had dreamt of him, Raymond only disgusted you now. You escaped a toxic situation only to end up in another one and the thought saddened you. How could you be so weak?

As you sat in the Church, you saw Daemon on the other side of the aisle, he gave you a nod before he approached you and sat down next to you so you looked around for Raymond.

“You look beautiful darling” he mumbled softly so you looked at him.

“Thank you but Please sit somewhere else” you said to him as politely as you could.

“Are you afraid?”

“No..i..i mean i wouldn't want him to assume things-”

“Don't worry he's .. occupied” he said as he looked at you, he saw the confusion in your beautiful eyes.

“With what?”

“With one of the bridesmaids.. I'm not sure if it's the same one as the last night or not” your eyes teared up as he said that. You had your doubts, he was an attractive man, you couldn't deny it but it still hurt to have someone else lay it out so casually that your boyfriend didn't give a shit about you.

“I'm staying in 222 ..you can come talk to me anytime you want, I'm leaving for London tomorrow” he said as he got up and left before Raymond would return, he wasn't scared of his brother ofcourse not, but he was scared of what he'd do to you if he had any idea that his twin brother was trying to steal away his girl.

When Raymond came back he looked happier, well satisfied, his hair was messed up which he desperately tried to fix with his fingers. Later that night you watched him eye fucking that one particular bridesmaid throughout the wedding reception and when you couldn't keep your mouth shut you finally spoke.

“Enjoyed it?” You asked him so he glared at you.

“What are you talking about?” He asked nonchalantly

“You KNOW what I'm talking about” he snickered as you said that before he turned to you and placed his palm around your nape and gave it a light squeeze.

“Well now that you know i’d ask you to mind your own fucking business sweetheart, you do not own me you know that right?”

Your eyes teared up so you looked around, the only person who had his eyes on you was Daemon. Sweet Daemon, your angel, perhaps it was your bad luck it wasn't really him that night at the bar. Luck has never really been your friend.

Raymond was absolutely shit faced by the end of the night, you had seen him drunk before but this was different, he couldn't even walk properly, two of his cousins had to carry him to the room. Once he had passed out you took the coat out of your luggage and made your way to 222. On the way you put it on yourself, enjoying the way it felt around you, his scent engulfed you,

You knocked on his door with bated breaths and were about to take off the coat when he opened the door and quickly grabbed your hand to pull you inside.

“I..I came to…return this” you mumbled softly so he stepped away from you after closing the door.

“Keep it, it looks better on you..have a seat” he smiled as he walked towards the fridge and gestured for you to sit on the couch so you obliged “Want a drink?”

“No i..can't stay for long, he gets up in the middle of the night” his heart clenched as you said that, you were living in such fear of the man who was supposed to protect you and take care of you.

“Don't worry, I took care of it, he won't be up until tomorrow morning, I promise you” you looked at him curiously as he said that, not that you weren't grateful for the escape even if it was for a few hours.

“What did you do?” he smiled as you questioned him, even the way he smiled seemed warmer somehow.

“That's for me to know and you to never find out..so a drink?”

“Just a soda”

He handed you a can of coke before he sat down next to you on the couch, you could smell his perfume and a part of you just wanted to crawl up to him and hug him but everytime you looked at him he reminded you of Raymond, they had the same face but the difference was the man next to you had saved your life once while the man who pretended to be him has been trying to ruin it.

“I thought..twins were supposed to be like..this” you said to him as you placed the can on your lap before you conjoined your palms together.

“Common misconception..me and my brother has never seen eye to eye”

You nodded as he said that, you didn't want to pry yet or ever, both of you would go your separate ways tomorrow.

“That night..ummm..after you saved me..you disappeared..why?” you asked and he was anticipating the question.

“I had to..I had a flight i couldn't really miss even if i wanted to miss it.. desperately” his voice was riddled with a touch of regret as he spoke.

“Okay..I just wish I knew your name”

“I have wished for it too darling” he mumbled as he sipped on his bear, one of his arms resting on the head of the couch, you noticed how effortlessly attractive and sexy he was unlike Raymond who had to try really hard at times. Your face flushed as you thought about the dreams you used to have about him but then his question snapped you out of your naughty thoughts.

“Why won't you leave him?” You gulped as he questioned you, your fingers fidgeting with the tab of the can.

“I love him” a part of you indeed loved him but after what he had done to you and how he had threatened you and how he was cheating on you, that love was fading away really quickly.

“Sure you do” he said as he placed his beer on the table and scooted closer to you. His thumb brushed over your cheek, you had tried to hide the mark as much as you could but he knew they were there, he knew how his brother treated you and it made him want to take you far away from him.

As you leaned into his touch he cupped your cheeks and leaned forward to kiss you, you reciprocated too, you had been thinking about it all night even though you felt guilty about it, you then pulled away slightly to look at him

“I can't..it's wrong..I'm not this person” you mumbled as your eyes teared up.

“I can tell..I don't know why you still want to be with him, knowing he lied , knowing he's cheating on you..but if you ever want to get out of this I'll help you i promise” he mumbled softly so you let out a bitter laugh.

“You don't even know me..I'm just some girl you rescued three years ago-” you got up as you said that, you had to leave now or you knew it would hurt much worse if you were to give into these desires you felt for him and he didn't stop you from leaving either.

Next morning you had to go back to Cardiff with Raymond and your heart felt heavy. He was throwing tantrums first thing in the morning so you grabbed your luggage and took the elevator to the lounge, you didn't know what Daemon had mixed in his drink and you didn't care if you were being honest.

As you sat down you retrieved Daemon's coat from the handbag, your fingers ran over the soft fabric and as you reached the coat pocket you realized there was something inside. You pulled out a paper and as you opened it you saw your own face staring back at you, it was a sketch of you, drawn with immaculate details, there was Daemon's signature at the bottom of the picture with a date written on it.

It was dated a week after that night at the beach.

Your eyes welled up as you couldn't really make sense of it, he made a sketch of you from memory? Why? Why would he make a sketch of you? Did he want to remember you too?

“Excuse me, Mam?” You heard a voice so you wiped your tears and looked up, it was the receptionist.

“This was left for you” she said to you as she handed you an envelope so you took it and thanked her politely.

It was from Daemon, it smelled like him.

You quickly opened the envelope before Raymond would get down there but by the time you were done reading it you knew you had a decision to make, a decision about whether you wanted to suffer the rest of your life and live in fear or take a chance on a man who had already saved you once.

“Darling,

Whatever I'm going to tell you might sound like fabrication but it's not, whether you want to believe me or not is entirely your decision. That night at the beach, I wasn't the only one to save your life, you saved mine too..

I was on a call with my taxi driver, he was waiting for me and I was about to leave when I saw you at the shoreline. For a moment I was stunned, you looked beautiful with winds tousling your hair, the way the moonlight kissed your silhouette, I was mesmerized and then I watched you go into the waters and the rest is history, our history. The following day I discovered that the taxi I most definitely would have taken if it wasn't for you had crashed and the passenger was killed on the spot. So you see, if I hadn't stopped to save you, I probably would have died that night.

Even though I left you behind, your beautiful face never really left me, I dreamt of you ever so often and I have looked for you for so long but I could never find you until two nights ago when you stood right behind me and hugged me. For a moment I thought I was dreaming again but then you kissed me and I knew you were all real.

I know you have been hurt by my brother and you stayed because you thought you owed him your life but you don't and you definitely don't owe me anything either, if you choose to leave him I'd not want you to put me on a pedestal or treat me like a god or an angel because I'm none of those things, I'm just a man who couldn't look away when he saw the prettiest girl on a beach that night. And that man would like to know you further and he'd certainly want to treat you better. .

I'm leaving my information on the back, my contact number, my address, anything you could need, I'd wait for your call darling.

Daemon”

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

[lady-phasma]

Caught - Daemon x fem reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, praise k!nk, kinda rough sex, graphic language, cockwarming, unprotected p in v sex, Daddy!Daemon

Summary: PWP literally just 3.1k of smut. Daddy!Daemon caught you up to no good and has to remind you of the rules. a/n: this is technically modern au Daemon. Short hair, modern setting, and modern language, the language gave me a bit more freedom than usual.

You froze as Daemon entered the room. His eyes flew from your surprised face to your hands between your thighs. You started to giggle with embarrassment until you saw his brow furrow. The smile fell from your lips. You weren’t sure if you should pull your fingers out of your dripping cunt or not so you lay still as he walked to the bed.

He watched you closely as he walked across the room. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. Already his cock had begun to ache seeing you naked on the bed, pleasuring yourself. However, there was an underlying emotion that amplified that ache. He needed to correct you. Your inability to keep your hands off yourself was sexy, but it made him almost seethe with envy. He had told you before and you had agreed, you would always wait for him.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he sat down on the side of the bed, one eyebrow cocked. You didn’t move your hands but squeezed your thighs closed. Daemon slowly reached one hand to press against your knee, opening your legs. You let him. When he slid his hand down the inside of your thigh you whimpered. Gently, he pulled first one of your hands, then the other away from your cunt. The sound your fingers made sliding out of you was almost embarrassing.

“Gods you are so wet, little one.” Daemon frowned. “Were you close?” His eyes flicked up to yours.

You nodded silently.

“Hmmm,” he mused. Then he gently clasped your wrist and raised your hand to his face. He breathed in deeply before sucking your fingers clean. You moaned and bit your bottom lip to quiet yourself.

“We talked about this,” he began. He laid your hand on the bed and stroked your thigh. “We talked about what would happen if you did this without Daddy?”

“Yes, but,” you started to explain.

“No,” he stated flatly. You tried not to grin. You loved it when he got this look in his eye. He looked possessive, jealous even, but not angry. His eyes narrowed.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. So how do I teach you this lesson so you will remember, hmm?” You knew it was a rhetorical question. Daemon stood up, slid his tie out of his collar, and walked to his desk. You watched, motionless, as he shuffled papers and books, silenced his phone, tossed his tie over the back of the chair, and finally sat down.

You subconsciously licked your lips as Daemon’s hands went to his zipper. He unfastened his pants and freed his cock. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but every part of your body tingled when you saw it. It was thick and gorgeous and you thought you could see the faintest pearl of precum leaking from the tip. He stroked slowly, watching himself, ignoring you. It felt as if minutes turned into hours before he looked up at you. He almost grinned at the lascivious expression on your face. He paused and you couldn’t help but stare at his twitching cock.

“Come here,” Daemon said. You rose form the bed, legs shaking, and you felt heat rush to your core. Walking toward him naked was exhilarating. Daemon patted his thighs as you approached. It was patronizing, but it made you smile nonetheless. You eyed his lap briefly and tried to guess the position he wanted you in. You began to move forward, but he saw the perplexed look on your face and caught your hips in his hands. He positioned you where he wanted you. His strong hands gently guided you through the awkward motion of sitting on his lap with your back to his chest. His hold on your hips made you feel a bit more stable during the wobbly affair. Then, very quietly, he whispered in your ear.

“You’re going to keep my cock warm, little one. You’re going to be as still as a statue and as quiet as a mouse. Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered and swallowed dryly.

“Now, lift that lovely ass,” he said with a smile in his voice. Pressing down on the arms of the chair, your feet pressed on top of his shoes for leverage, you raised up as far as you could. His hand slipped under your ass and through your wetness. You gasped and your thighs shook. His fingers were gone almost immediately. You heard him stroke his cock and then you felt him at your entrance. Slowly you began to lower yourself, with his hands guiding you again. Your body felt like it had been struck by lightening and your head spun with excitement. This was a punishment? You exhaled as you settled into Daemon’s lap, his cock fully buried inside you.

“Comfortable?” he asked. You nodded trying to move only your head. Your arms and legs felt stiff. Frankly, you were still concerned with falling off. You giggled before you realized you were going to. Your hand flew to your mouth and you did wobble. Daemon held you steady and laughed under his breath.

Finally, he pulled you toward him, your back pressed against his chest and you felt yourself begin to relax. Your hands fell from the arms of the chair to rest on your thighs. You let your feet slide off his shoes, allowing him to support you completely. This also made his cock go the slightest bit deeper. You whimpered and tried to adjust your hips. His fingers dug into them, stopping you. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, leaning back against Daemon’s chest. Every breath, every movement was bliss. As he settled, his cock moved inside you. As he breathed, you moved up and down with his chest. Each small movement echoed in your cunt. You thought if being this connected to him were punishment you could get into “trouble” more often.

“Hand those to me.” Daemon startled you when he spoke. You blinked and failed to understand for a moment. Then you leaned forward for the papers and gasped. Gingerly you handed them to Daemon. You shifted to the side slightly and tried to rest against him again. But the movement caused you to clench and Daemon hissed air through his teeth. You grimaced a little as you began to understand… a bit like trying to balance on one foot and not fall, you weren’t sure how long you could do this. To your amazement, however, Daemon began to read as if you weren’t there. You clenched around his cock involuntarily. He was distracting himself and you were what? Not supposed to think about how good it felt to be so deeply connected to him? Every time you thought of it you twitched or tensed up. You crossed your arms across your breasts and huffed. You couldn’t lay your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t wiggle, you could only sit.

“Yes?” Daemon asked.

“Well,” you thought for a moment. “What am I supposed to do?” You heard the whine in your voice and cringed. You tightened your arms across your chest.

“Think about your actions,” Daemon chuckled as he spoke and resumed reading. His laugh was infuriating. You could have screamed, but more than that you wanted to rock your hips. You needed to hear him moan and say your name. Instead you pouted. Trying not to think about your wetness dripping down around his cock, soaking his pants, you exhaled. When you turned your head to look at Daemon he was actually reading! You smirked as you wiggled your ass slightly and he didn’t even glance up. You turned your attention to the room, looking for anything to distract you. But the harder you tried to not think about his cock the larger it seemed to grow in your thoughts. You shifted a few times, tried to alleviate the constant, aching need but nothing worked. The next ten minutes were agonizing. It could have been 30 minutes for all you knew. This frustrating pleasure made it impossible for you to judge.

When Daemon finally lowered his papers, your head felt foggy with arousal. You blinked trying to clear the cobwebs from your mind. He slowly began to lean forward and you steadied yourself by gripping his thighs. He snaked one hand around your side to your belly to hold you still and tossed the the documents onto the desk. They slid and nearly scattered, but Daemon didn’t seem to care. He ran his hand along the top of your thigh. His fingertips came precariously close to your lips and you jumped. He chuckled that low, infuriating laugh again.

“How do you feel, baby girl? Do you think you can remember our rules now?” His hand continued traveling up your body until he was cupping your breast. He languidly passed his thumb over your nipple. The new sensation felt so good that it was almost painful. It jolted you out of your haze.

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled. “I will remember. But please, Daemon.” You didn’t expect to beg. “Please.” Your cunt tightened around him as you spoke.

“Soon,” he whispered. “Soon.” There was a slight tone of pride in his voice. You weren’t sure how you knew that from one word but you couldn't think about it for long. His hand on your belly began to slide down. Two of his fingers brushed the top of your cleft and you bucked your hips. You tried, at least. His hand held you quite still. But your movement had elicited a small hmm from him. That sound produced a fresh wave of wetness to flood your aching cunt.

“You did so well,” he spoke near your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “You kept my cock perfectly warm. Do you want your reward?”

“Yes, please,” you whined again. You fisted your hands into the fabric of his pants. Simultaneously impatient and anxious, you had rarely been this overstimulated.

“Are you going to be a good girl from now on?” Daemon smirked. He was dragging it out, still enjoying your blissful distress.

“Oh yes, god yes!” You tried to move your hips again and this time he let you. Only he followed the movement with his hand and slid two fingers over your clit. You let out a groan that sounded as if it came from someone else. You clamped your teeth down on the sound as Daemon circled your clit with his fingertips.

“Damn,” he mumbled under his breath. “That’s it, baby girl.” You were moving your hips slightly, clutching and unclutching his pants with the same rhythm. It was slow and almost imperceptible. Daemon kissed your shoulder, squeezed your breast, then rested his forehead in the curve of your neck, never stopping the motion of his fingers. You felt the familiar coiling in your core, the signal of the beginning of your orgasm, and reached your hand behind you to slide your fingers into Daemon’s hair. You riffled through his short hair and pressed him harder against you. He groaned and nuzzled deeper into your neck. His cock seemed to throb inside you. The sensations were overwhelming. You raked your nails across his scalp and breathed out his name. Without warning, he stopped and pulled his fingers away. You arched your back trying to chase them. He straightened and shook your hand from his head.

He moved both hands to your hips and dug his fingers into your flesh. He began to guide you to lift your hips but you shook your head “no.” He ignored this protest and start to move you himself. You felt dizzy, off balance, and you wanted nothing more than for his cock to stay exactly where it was. But you realized this would be easier and faster if you worked with him. Begrudgingly and gingerly, you placed your hands on the arms of the chair once more. The feeling of separation was immediate and intense. You squeezed your eyes shut. Daemon, thankfully, still held your hips as you tried to stand on legs that should not have been so shaky.

As Daemon began to lean forward you swayed and reached out to steady yourself on the desk. You felt him shift behind you and his legs pressed yours wider. He still held you by your hips but he leaned forward and kissed your lower back. He trailed kisses down to the top of your ass. You let out a small moan as he kissed the dimples at the base of your spine and then he sighed. His breath on your ass made you squirm. Every sensation was like a shock to your brain.

In one swift movement, Daemon stood behind you. He pressed you forward slightly but didn’t let go of you until your hands were firmly planted on the desk. You were almost bent over completely, arms laying on the desktop. Daemon smoothed a hand up your back, signaling you to lean further forward. You did so, forehead nearly resting on the surface. You heard him unbuckling his belt and sliding fabric against skin. Your cunt clenched on nothing purely from anticipation. He nudged your feet further apart with the toe of his shoe. You gasped as he slid his fingers through your slick, messy cunt. He drug them slowly back over your clit, all the way back to your ass and then pulled his hand away. You pressed your hips back toward him, begging without words.

“You want my cock back in that needy little hole?” He growled the question as he stroked his cock once, twice, then positioned himself between your thighs. “Well?”

“Yes,” you tried to answer but it came out in a croak. You mouth was a desert. You cleared your throat. “Yes, Daddy.”

He hummed a short approval as he rested his hands on your ass. His cock began to slide inside you so slowly that you could barely breathe. You resisted the urge to push back toward him with every ounce of your will power. Daemon moved forward slightly but also used his thumbs to hold your ass cheeks apart. The thought of him watching his cock slide into you, imagining the way his bottom lip would be caught between his teeth, forced you to finally collapse onto the desk.

“Please,” you started. “Fuck, Daemon, please, I can’t.” Your pleading sped him up, but only slightly. The only thing that stopped you from doing it yourself, pressing your hips back into his, was the delicious sound he was making. It was a throaty hum mixed with a sucking of air through his teeth. When he was finally balls deep inside you again, he moved his hands forward, onto your hips again.

“You feel so good,” he said under his breath. The words made you squirm against him and clench around him. He began long, slow strokes that drove you crazy, gradually picking up speed. Each thrust pushed you forward until your breasts were pressed against the papers on the desk. You barely held yourself upright, your legs felt as if they would give up at any moment. You were unsure if there were words in the incoherent moaning coming from your mouth as Daemon seemed to drag out each stroke.

“That’s my girl,” he said with a hard thrust. Then he started to move faster, his strokes growing shorter. You felt one of his hands slide forward and tensed around him in anticipation. He let out a breathy fuck as he pushed through the tightening of your muscles. When his fingers grazed your clit you bucked away from his hand. His fingers found you regardless.

“You can take it. You have to if you want to come,” he said icily. You whimpered as he stroked your clit in time with the thrusts of his cock. “I want you to cum on my cock like the good slut I know you are.”

His voice, his words, flipped a switch inside you. The coiled, aching tightness in your core released. Waves of pleasure emanated from your cunt. Your limbs felt cold and heavy but you barely noticed.

“Fuck.” You panted and moaned, pressing the side of your face onto the desk. “Yes, Daddy. Oh fuck yes.” You words trailed off into mumbled pleading and sounds of agreement. His fingers continued their movement and your hips jerked with each pass. You were too cock drunk to beg him to stop. Your orgasm didn’t crest and break but stayed in this tight, hot moment until you thought you might pass out.

“You can have your reward now, baby girl,” Daemon punctuated each word with a thrust as he began to pound into you. You no longer moaned, no longer made any sound. Your breathing was shallow and harsh. You reached your hands out to find purchase, to brace yourself and only succeeded in knocking things off the desk. Daemon increased the pressure on your clit and you came undone. You closed your eyes and cried out his name. Begging, pleading, but not for him to stop. You begged for his cum and he gave you what you needed. He moved his hand from between your legs. He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed into you one final time. His cum was a warm rush between you. He ground his hips against your ass. He groaned and relaxed his grip on your neck.

Daemon leaned forward, out of breath, and kissed your shoulder. He stroked your shoulder blade, your side, and slid his hand under your stomach. You were barely able to follow his lead. The pressure of his hand guided you to prop yourself up on the desk. You huffed out a small chuckle at your predicament. Before you were entirely prepared, he pulled back slowly. Your eyelids fluttered when his cock left you. The feeling of what he left behind was divine. You tried to catch your breath.

You felt his hand on you, resting on your side. You straightened up as he began to turn you toward him. He caught your mouth with his before you could face him. He petted and stroked, one hand on your side, pressing you into him, one hand on your stomach and hips. He pulled back and looked into your eyes. The corner of his mouth turned up and the pride you saw in his face made your chest feel as if it would burst. He barely took his hands off of you as he sat down, keeping you on your feet. Then he helped you onto his lap once more. Sitting across his lap, you curled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You inhaled the smell of his shirt and became dimly aware that he had somehow not taken it off. You smiled and closed your eyes as he kissed the top of your head.

Masterlist Daemon masterlist

[hisfavegirl]

A Forbidden Flame - Modern!Daemon Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary : The story of love, loss, and regret began in the shadows, but it would soon unfold in the most painful way. Daemon’s heart would be shattered as the consequences of his reckless love echoed through his world. What had started as a passion-driven affair would become the deepest regret of his life—a regret that would haunt him for as long as he lived. And so, as the storm brewed on the horizon, Daemon Targaryen was about to learn that the greatest cost of love was not the sacrifice of the heart, but the devastation of losing it all.

Daemon Masterlist.

You never imagined that working with Daemon Targaryen would lead you down this path. What began as a professional relationship quickly spiraled into something far more complex, far more dangerous. The world knows Daemon as the charismatic and ruthless executive, always a step ahead in the cutthroat world of business. But behind closed doors, he is something else entirely—yours.

Your relationship is a well-kept secret, hidden from the prying eyes of the public and, most importantly, from his wife, Rhaenyra. She often travels abroad, handling international ventures or attending exclusive events that demand her presence. Whenever she’s away, it’s as if the world belongs to you and Daemon alone. In those moments, he is yours, and you are his—completely, passionately, and undeniably.

Daemon made it clear from the beginning: you are his and only his. His possessiveness is both thrilling and terrifying, a constant reminder of the precariousness of your situation. He whispers it to you in the dark, his voice laced with a promise that no one else will ever have you. “You are mine,” he says, each word a declaration, a claim that leaves no room for doubt.

Despite the secrecy, the stolen glances, and the heated moments in his office when the world outside fades away, you can’t deny the intensity of your connection. It’s a dangerous dance, one that could unravel everything if ever exposed. Yet, you find yourself unable to resist him, the allure of his presence too strong to deny.

You know the risks, the consequences that would follow if anyone ever found out. But in the quiet of the night, when it’s just the two of you, none of that seems to matter. All that exists is the fire between you, burning brightly in the shadows of your hidden world.

The grand hall is alive with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the soft glow of chandeliers casting a golden light over the gathered elite. You stand by Daemon’s side, your elegant black gown hugging your figure in all the right places. It’s daring, yet refined, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Tonight, you are his companion, the one who stands beside him when Rhaenyra chooses not to.

Daemon’s hand rests possessively on your lower back as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I don’t like how they’re looking at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with a quiet warning. “They forget that you belong to me.”

You chuckle softly, a delicate sound that only he can hear over the murmur of the crowd. “Let them look,” you tease, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “It’s not as if they can have what’s yours.”

His grip tightens slightly, his gaze flickering with a mixture of pride and frustration. He enjoys the attention you garner, but only to a point. It feeds his ego to have the most captivating woman in the room by his side, yet it stokes his possessiveness to see others admire what he considers his alone.

Before he can respond, a movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention. Aegon and Aemond, Daemon’s nephews, approach with their usual confident stride. Both dressed impeccably, their sharp features mirror the unmistakable Targaryen lineage. Their eyes, however, are locked on their uncle as they draw closer.

“Uncle,” Aegon greets with a smirk, his gaze briefly flickering to you before returning to Daemon. “Mind if we steal you away for a moment?”

Aemond, more reserved but no less observant, nods in agreement, his single eye—hidden beneath a patch—studying you with quiet curiosity. “There’s something we’d like to discuss.”

Daemon’s hand lingers on your back for a moment longer, a silent reassurance before he turns to face his nephews. “Of course,” he says, though his voice holds a trace of reluctance. “But make it quick.”

As Daemon steps aside with Aegon and Aemond, you’re left momentarily alone, the weight of their curious glances lingering on you. You can feel the subtle tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the complex dynamics at play. Though the room continues to buzz with conversation, you can’t shake the feeling that eyes are still on you—not just from the crowd, but from the two young men now engaged in a hushed conversation with Daemon.

You take a steady breath, reminding yourself of your place beside Daemon. This world, with all its secrets and power plays, is as much yours now as it is his. And no matter how many eyes linger, you know that in the end, Daemon’s attention—his fierce, unyielding devotion—belongs solely to you.

The lively chatter of the room falters for a moment as Daemon’s voice, sharp and heated, cuts through the air. He’s nearly shouting, his usual calm exterior cracking as he glares at Aegon, his frustration bubbling over. You can feel the tension escalating, the attention of the nearby guests subtly shifting toward the unfolding scene.

Concerned, you step forward, placing a gentle hand on Daemon’s arm. “Daemon,” you murmur softly, your voice soothing, “please, not here.” Your eyes plead with him to calm down, aware that the spectacle is drawing too much notice.

But before Daemon can respond, Aemond reaches out, his hand brushing yours as he grips it firmly. “Everything is fine,” he says in a low, measured tone, his gaze steady and composed. There’s something about his calm demeanor that contrasts sharply with Daemon’s simmering anger, and for a brief moment, the tension seems to ease.

Daemon’s eyes darken as he watches Aemond’s hand on yours, a flicker of possessive fury flashing across his face. Without a word, he steps forward, swatting Aemond’s hand away from yours with a forceful gesture. His jaw clenches, and his hand finds its way to your lower back again, guiding you firmly away from his nephews.

The air between the four of you is thick with unspoken words and lingering tension, but Daemon doesn’t look back. He leads you through the crowd, his grip firm, as he maneuvers you both toward a quieter corner of the hall, away from prying eyes.

Once you’re alone, his gaze softens slightly, though the remnants of his anger still linger. “Are you alright?” he asks, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His concern is genuine, though tinged with the frustration that moments ago had threatened to boil over.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, your hand resting on his chest. “But you need to calm down. This isn’t the place for confrontations.”

Daemon takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours for a moment before nodding. “I just can’t stand them interfering,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “Especially when it comes to you.”

You smile softly, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. “I’m yours, Daemon. No one else’s. Let’s not give them the satisfaction of seeing us rattle.”

His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer as he sighs. “You’re right,” he concedes. “I won’t let them ruin our night.”

Together, you both turn back to the gathering, a united front once more. The storm that had threatened to erupt has passed—for now—but the undercurrents of tension remain, a reminder that in this world of power and pride, nothing is ever truly at rest.

The evening had begun to settle into a comfortable rhythm once more. Daemon, though still watchful, allowed you a moment to yourself as you requested permission to fetch a drink. His eyes lingered on you as you moved through the crowd, a quiet reminder of his ever-present vigilance.

As you stepped away, the cool air of the corridor offered a brief respite from the heat of the crowded hall. But before you could take more than a few steps, a sudden, forceful grip seized your arm, yanking you into the dimly lit hallway. The world around you blurred as you stumbled, your heart pounding in your chest.

You barely had time to react before a sharp blow landed on your shoulder, sending a jolt of pain through your body. The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was the cold, unfeeling floor rushing up to meet you.

Back in the grand hall, Daemon’s unease grew with each passing moment. He checked his watch, his gaze flickering toward the spot where he had last seen you. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as he waited, his foot tapping anxiously against the polished floor.

When you didn’t return, the knot of worry in his chest tightened. He scanned the room, his sharp eyes searching for any sign of you. His heart began to race as he realized you were nowhere to be seen.

Daemon moved quickly, his steps purposeful as he pushed through the crowd, calling your name under his breath. The anxiety clawed at his composure, each passing second feeding the growing dread in his gut.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed your number, hoping to hear your voice, to hear anything that would reassure him. But the shrill ring echoed from a distance, pulling his gaze toward the far end of the hallway. There, lying carelessly on the floor, was your phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. Beside it, your handbag lay discarded, a stark and chilling testament to your sudden disappearance.

Daemon’s blood ran cold, his mind racing through the possibilities, each one darker than the last. His heart pounded in his chest as he crouched down, picking up your phone with a trembling hand. The realization hit him like a blow: you were gone, and someone had taken you.

Without wasting another moment, he rose to his feet, his jaw set in a grim line. Whoever had dared to take you would pay dearly. Daemon’s fury burned just beneath the surface, a dangerous storm brewing as he vowed to find you—no matter what it took.

Daemon’s fury was barely contained as he stormed towards Aegon and Aemond, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the corridor. His eyes burned with a cold fire, his jaw clenched tight in frustration. Without a word, he reached out and roughly grabbed Aegon by the collar, yanking him closer.

“Where is she?” Daemon’s voice was low, dangerous, as he demanded an answer. “What have you done with her?”

Aegon recoiled, his eyes wide with confusion. “I don’t know, Daemon,” he replied, his voice shaky. “I swear, I don’t know anything about where she is. I haven’t seen her since you sent me away.”

Daemon’s gaze hardened as he released Aegon, his grip tightening into a fist at his side. Aemond stepped forward, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Daemon’s seething anger. Without hesitation, he placed a hand on Daemon’s arm, pulling him away from Aegon.

“Let’s take this outside,” Aemond said, his voice steady and measured, but with an underlying urgency. “We need to think this through, away from the prying eyes of the guests.”

Daemon didn’t hesitate, following Aemond’s lead as they both made their way out of the hall and into the cool night air. The tension between them was palpable, but Aemond knew this was the only way to prevent Daemon from exploding in front of the crowd.

Once they were safely out of sight, Aemond turned to Daemon, his face thoughtful but wary. “It could be the Lannisters,” he suggested, his voice low. “The rivalry between our families, the business competition… they have always been opportunistic.”

Daemon’s gaze flickered, considering the possibility. The Lannisters were indeed ruthless in their pursuit of power, but something about this felt wrong. “Why her?” Daemon muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth. “Why take her and not my children? Not my wife?” The confusion in his voice was evident, the question lingering in the cold air between them.

Aemond’s expression darkened, and he looked over at his uncle. “It could also be the Baratheons,” he suggested, his tone now tinged with suspicion. “The tensions between you and Borros… that conflict was months ago, but who knows how deep their grudges run? Maybe they see her as leverage against you.”

Daemon stopped in his tracks, his gaze hardening as he turned back to Aemond. “But why her?” he repeated, his fists clenching as frustration built inside him. “She’s not a pawn, Aemond. She’s not some piece in this damn game.”

Aemond’s silence was deafening as he considered Daemon’s words. He understood his uncle’s pain, but he couldn’t help but acknowledge the possibility that whoever was behind this might have had other reasons—reasons beyond simple political strategy.

Daemon’s mind raced with possibilities, but none of them made sense. Why take you? He couldn’t fathom the reasons, but one thing was clear: whoever was behind this had made a grave mistake. They had just provoked the wrong Targaryen. And Daemon would burn the world down to find you and bring you back, no matter the cost.

Daemon’s hands gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity, his knuckles pale from the force. His eyes were narrowed, burning with a fury that seemed to radiate off him in waves. The road ahead was a blur, his mind consumed by thoughts of you, his heart pounding in his chest with each passing second.

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sound of it echoing through the car’s interior as frustration and desperation collided inside him. “Find her,” he growled into the phone, his voice a low snarl. “I don’t care where you have to look, I want her found now.”

The voice on the other end of the line stammered, trying to reassure him. “Sir, we’re already—”

“I don’t want excuses,” Daemon cut in, his voice sharp and commanding. “I want results. Now. If I have to tear apart every Lannister and Baratheon stronghold, I’ll do it myself.”

The words hung in the air, a promise to burn every bridge and destroy anyone who stood in his way. He couldn’t afford to lose you, not now, not when everything in his life felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The thought of you in danger, out of his reach, made his blood boil with rage.

He disconnected the call abruptly and sped up, ignoring the speed limits as his mind raced. He wasn’t sure where to go, but he knew he couldn’t waste any time. Each second felt like a lifetime, each mile that passed without finding you adding another weight to his chest.

Daemon’s thoughts drifted to the last time he saw you—your smile, your warmth, everything about you that made him feel alive. He could still feel the lingering touch of your hand, the warmth of your embrace. And now, you were gone, taken by someone who dared to challenge him. The person who did this had no idea who they were dealing with.

“Come back to me,” he whispered under his breath, his voice hoarse with emotion. He had to find you. He would tear down the world if that’s what it took to bring you home.

His phone rang again, the voice on the other end speaking quickly, urgently. “Sir, we’ve checked the Lannister and Baratheon estates. There’s no sign of her.”

“Keep searching,” he snapped, his jaw tightening. “I don’t care what it takes. Someone has her, and I’m going to make them regret it. Keep me updated, or I swear I’ll handle this myself.”

He hung up and stared out into the night, his mind swirling with thoughts of the worst possible outcomes. The silence of the road stretched out before him, but Daemon couldn’t feel any peace. All he could feel was the burning need to find you, to ensure that nothing had happened to you, and to make those who took you pay for their sins.

Daemon parked his car haphazardly in the driveway, not caring about the angle or the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. His mind was a whirlwind of rage and desperation as he stormed into his home, his steps quick and purposeful. He was heading straight for his study, the place where he could think, plan, and command the search for you in secrecy.

But before he could reach the sanctuary of his workspace, a familiar voice called out, stopping him in his tracks. “Daemon?” Rhaenyra’s soft, inquisitive tone echoed through the hallway, laced with concern. She appeared from the shadows, her brow furrowed as she approached him. “Is everything all right? You look… tense.”

Daemon’s heart clenched at the sight of his wife, her eyes filled with worry. He couldn’t let her know the truth. The affair, the disappearance—it was a storm he had to weather alone. Quickly, he masked his turmoil with a feigned calmness, his lips curling into a tight, unconvincing smile.

“It’s nothing,” he said, his voice steady, though his hands still trembled slightly from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “There was a misunderstanding with the Tullys at the party. It got a bit heated, that’s all.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes searched his, trying to read the storm behind his words. “Are you sure that’s all?” she asked, her voice gentle but probing. “You seem more than just upset.”

Daemon stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her. “It’s under control,” he lied smoothly, though his mind was anything but. “I just need some time to cool down.”

She nodded slowly, though the concern never left her eyes. “If you need to talk, I’m here,” she offered, her voice softening. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Daemon replied, his tone warmer, though guilt gnawed at his insides. He kissed her forehead, a gesture meant to end the conversation. “I’ll be in my study. I just need to gather my thoughts.”

With that, he turned and continued towards his study, his expression hardening once more as soon as he was out of her sight. The weight of his secrets bore down on him like never before. The thought of you out there, missing, possibly in danger, consumed him entirely.

Once inside the study, he shut the door firmly behind him and leaned against it for a moment, exhaling deeply. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. He walked to his desk, picked up his phone, and began dialing furiously, issuing commands to his men with a voice that brooked no argument.

“Find her,” he repeated, his words a cold, unwavering directive. “I don’t care how you do it, just find her. And whoever is responsible, make sure they understand what it means to cross me.”

His fists clenched as he ended the call, his mind a battleground of fear, anger, and longing. He couldn’t let Rhaenyra find out, couldn’t let this scandal unravel the life he had carefully constructed. But above all, he couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.

Daemon sat at his desk, his laptop glowing dimly in the darkened room. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard as he contacted everyone he knew—old allies, informants, anyone who owed him a favor. His messages were short and urgent, each one a call to arms in the desperate search for you.

But then, a soft chime pulled his attention away. A notification had appeared at the corner of his screen. His brow furrowed as he clicked on it, the screen shifting to reveal a video file. Hesitation gripped him for a brief moment, but he couldn’t afford to wait. He clicked play.

The video opened to a dimly lit room, the shadows swallowing most of the details. But what stood out, stark and undeniable, was you—unconscious, bound to a chair, your head slumped forward, strands of your hair falling across your face. The peaceful expression on your face, despite the circumstances, tore through Daemon like a blade.

His breath caught in his throat, the image of you in such a vulnerable state igniting a firestorm of rage within him. His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white as he stared at the screen. The room around him seemed to blur, his focus narrowing solely on you.

The sound of his heartbeat thundered in his ears as he watched, helpless for the moment but brimming with a dangerous resolve. Whoever had done this had made their move, taunting him with your captivity. The video ended abruptly, leaving the screen black, but Daemon’s anger blazed brighter than ever.

His hand trembled as he shut the laptop, the echo of the closing lid reverberating in the silence. Standing abruptly, he paced the room, his mind racing with possibilities. Every second counted, every delay felt like an eternity, but now he had a clue—a glimpse into where you were and what you were enduring.

With a sharp inhale, he grabbed his phone again, his voice cold and cutting as he barked out new orders. “I have a lead. Find that room. Check every dark corner, every abandoned building, every place those bastards could be hiding. I want her found now.”

His gaze drifted back to the laptop, the image of you seared into his memory. His jaw clenched as he made a silent vow. He would find you. And when he did, there would be no mercy for those who dared to hurt you. They would learn the true extent of his wrath.

Daemon’s eyes were fixed on the video replaying on his laptop, scrutinizing every frame for any clue that could lead him to you. His mind raced through possibilities, trying to piece together the puzzle of your whereabouts. The dim lighting, the faint sounds in the background—every detail could be crucial.

But his concentration was broken when the door to his study creaked open. He looked up sharply, his expression softening just enough to mask the storm within as Rhaenyra stepped in, cradling their child in her arms. The sight of them, serene and innocent, was a stark contrast to the chaos brewing inside him.

“I wanted to let you know,” Rhaenyra began, her voice gentle but tired, “that I have to leave for Dragonstone tomorrow. There are matters I need to attend to.”

Daemon rose from his chair, crossing the room swiftly. He cupped her face gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Of course,” he murmured, his tone warm, betraying none of the turmoil he felt. “You should rest then. We both should, if you have to leave early.”

Rhaenyra nodded, leaning into his touch, unaware of the turmoil that lay just beneath the surface. “Come to bed,” she whispered, her voice laced with concern. “You’ve been tense all night.”

“I will,” Daemon promised, guiding her out of the study, their child nestled between them. He walked alongside her towards their chambers, his steps steady, his demeanor calm. But beneath the surface, his mind remained a battlefield.

As they settled into bed, Daemon lay beside Rhaenyra, holding her close as she drifted off to sleep. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts consumed by you. The frustration and fury he had buried for her sake simmered just beneath his skin, threatening to boil over.

He couldn’t let Rhaenyra suspect anything, not now. Not until he had you back, safe and sound. For now, he had to wear the mask of normalcy, playing the role of the devoted husband and father. But once the lights were out and the house was silent, his mind would return to the search, driven by the burning need to find you and end the nightmare that had gripped his life.

Cold water splashed over your face, jolting you awake from the darkness that had claimed you. Gasping, you blinked rapidly, your vision blurry as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. The air was damp and stale, the faint hum of distant machinery the only sound in the dimly lit room. Your wrists and ankles were bound tightly to a chair, the rough ropes biting into your skin.

As your vision cleared, you focused on the figure standing in front of you-a woman, unfamiliar and stern, her eyes cold and calculating. She watched you with a mixture of contempt and curiosity, as if deciding what to do next. Before you could speak, her hand lashed out, striking your cheek with a sharp, stinging slap. The force of the blow left your face burning, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Please," you choked out, your voice trembling.

"What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?"

The woman didn't answer. Her expression remained stoic, devoid of any empathy. She stared at you for a moment longer, then turned on her heel, her footsteps echoing as she walked away. The heavy door creaked open, casting a sliver of light into the room before it closed behind her with a resounding thud, plunging you back into near darkness.

Left alone, fear surged through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest. You struggled against the bindings, but they held fast. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of the situation settled over you. You had no idea who this woman was or why she had taken you. The uncertainty was suffocating.

In the silence, your thoughts drifted to Daemon. You knew he would be searching for you, relentless and unyielding. He wouldn't rest until he found you. Clinging to that hope, you steadied your breathing, determined to stay strong. You had to believe that he would come for you, that this nightmare would end.

Your voice, hoarse from hours of shouting, echoed weakly in the oppressive darkness. You had called for help, screamed until your throat was raw, but there was no response, only the deafening silence of the cold, damp room. The chill from your soaked gown seeped into your bones, causing your body to shiver uncontrollably. The thin fabric clung to your skin, offering no protection from the relentless cold.

You had lost all sense of time, the absence of windows or any sign of the outside world leaving you disoriented. The darkness seemed to stretch on endlessly, an eternal night that left you feeling isolated and vulnerable. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your breathing, anything to anchor you in the present.

In the depths of your fear, your thoughts returned to Daemon. You could almost hear his voice, calm and reassuring, promising to protect you no matter what. You clung to that image, whispering silent prayers into the void, hoping that he could somehow sense your distress.

“Please,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “Find me.”

Your heart ached with the longing to see him again, to feel his arms around you, safe and secure. The bond you shared with him was your lifeline, the only thing keeping you from succumbing to despair. You knew he would be relentless in his search, that he would stop at nothing to bring you back.

As the minutes dragged into hours, your body grew weaker, the cold sapping your strength. But you refused to give in. You had to hold on, had to believe that rescue was on its way. With each breath, you summoned the strength to endure, hoping that the next sound you heard would be Daemon’s voice calling your name, pulling you out of the darkness and into the light.

Daemon stood on the tarmac, his eyes following the private jet as it ascended into the sky, carrying Rhaenyra away to Dragonstone. As the plane disappeared from view, he reached for his phone, immediately dialing one of his most trusted men.

“Any updates?” His voice was clipped, laced with barely contained fury.

“Not yet, sir,” came the hesitant reply. “We’re combing through all possible leads, but nothing solid has come up.”

“Then dig deeper,” Daemon snapped. “I want every contact, every informant pressed for information. No stone unturned. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. We’ll find her.”

Daemon ended the call abruptly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck taut with tension. The frustration of your disappearance gnawed at him, the helplessness an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation.

He turned and strode towards his car, his steps quick and purposeful. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he started the engine and sped away from the airstrip, the roar of the car echoing in the crisp morning air. The road blurred as he drove, his mind racing with thoughts of you—where you could be, who could have taken you, and why.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening as he navigated through the city streets. Every moment you were missing felt like an eternity. The image of your phone and handbag abandoned in that corridor haunted him, a grim reminder of how swiftly you had been taken from him.

As he neared the house, Daemon’s mind shifted gears. He needed to remain composed, at least on the surface. Rhaenyra might be away, but the rest of the household staff would be watching. He had to maintain the façade, to keep suspicion at bay while he orchestrated the search behind the scenes.

Pulling into the driveway, Daemon parked the car and took a moment to gather himself. His gaze hardened, determination flickering in his eyes. He would find you. And when he did, there would be hell to pay for those who had dared to take you from him.

Daemon entered his study, his sharp gaze immediately falling on Aegon and Aemond, who were seated casually, their expressions a mix of curiosity and impatience. He had summoned them here, knowing he needed all the resources and connections he could muster to find you. But the tension in the room was palpable, each man bringing their own agenda to the table.

Daemon moved to his desk, leaning against it, arms crossed as he assessed the two men before him. “We need to strategize,” he began, his voice low but commanding. “Every minute we waste is a minute she remains in danger. We need to track down every lead, every possible motive for this abduction.”

Aegon nodded, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare seriousness. “I’ve already contacted a few people who might have information. We’ll get some answers soon.”

Aemond, ever the tactician, added, “I’ve dispatched a few of our men to shadow known enemies. If this is a power play, we’ll have something to leverage.”

For a moment, there was a semblance of unity, a shared goal. But then Aemond’s gaze hardened, his curiosity turning to skepticism. “But I have to ask, Daemon,” he said, his tone cold and calculating, “what makes her so important? She’s just your mistress, isn’t she? Is she worth all this effort?”

The question hung in the air like a blade, sharp and poised to cut. Daemon’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. A flash of anger crossed his features, his control slipping for a brief moment.

“She’s more than that,” Daemon growled, his voice laced with venom. “She is mine. And no one takes what is mine without consequence.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, but he held his ground, a subtle challenge in his gaze. Aegon shifted uncomfortably, sensing the rising tension. “We’re all on the same side here,” Aegon interjected, trying to diffuse the situation. “Let’s focus on finding her first.”

Daemon inhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn’t afford to lose focus. His priority was finding you, and petty rivalries would only slow them down.

“You’re right,” Daemon conceded, though his eyes never left Aemond’s. “We find her first. Then we deal with everything else.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their mission pressing down on all of them. Despite the underlying tension, they knew they had to work together. Time was running out, and you were still out there, waiting to be found.

Daemon was pacing the room when Aegon’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “Daemon, wait!” Aegon called, his eyes fixed on the paused frame of the video on the laptop screen. “Look here, in the corner,” he pointed, enlarging the image to reveal a faint but unmistakable symbol etched into the shadowed wall. It was the sigil of House Baratheon.

Daemon’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing as the implications of the discovery sank in. Without hesitation, he grabbed the keys to his car and a pistol from the desk drawer. He was already halfway to the door when Aegon spoke again, his voice filled with urgency.

“Daemon, we need to plan this out!” Aegon shouted, moving to block his path, but Daemon brushed past him with a determined stride.

“Don’t be reckless!” Aemond added, stepping forward, his hand reaching out to stop his uncle. “We’ll go with you. You can’t just—”

But Daemon was already out the door, his mind singularly focused on one thing: getting to you. The roar of the engine echoed through the courtyard as he peeled out of the driveway, leaving Aegon and Aemond behind, their shouts fading into the distance.

The drive to the Baratheon estate was a blur, the city lights streaking past as Daemon pushed the car to its limits. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white with tension. His mind played through every possible scenario, each one ending with him bringing you back safely. The pistol on the passenger seat was a silent promise of what would happen to anyone who stood in his way.

As the grand gates of the Baratheon estate loomed ahead, Daemon slowed, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of a trap. His heart pounded in his chest, but his resolve was unwavering. He was here to reclaim what was his, and nothing would stop him.

Pulling the car to a stop just outside the gates, Daemon stepped out, the pistol now firmly in his grip. His gaze hardened as he approached the estate, his mind a flurry of tactics and determination.

The hunt had begun, and Daemon Targaryen was a man on a mission.

The stillness of the night was shattered by Daemon’s furious shout. “Borros Baratheon! Get out here!” His voice echoed through the vast grounds of the Baratheon estate, filled with rage and desperation.

Behind him, the rumble of several cars pulling up signaled the arrival of his reinforcements—his own men, as well as some from Aegon and Aemond. Their presence added to the tension in the air, a silent promise of the lengths Daemon was willing to go.

The grand doors of the estate creaked open, and Borros Baratheon emerged, flanked by his guards. His expression was a mix of confusion and indignation. Before he could utter a word, Daemon raised his pistol, aiming directly at Borros.

“Where is she?” Daemon demanded, his voice like a whip. “Where are you hiding her?”

Borros raised his hands slightly, signaling his men to hold their fire, though they kept their weapons trained on Daemon. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Borros replied, his tone measured but firm. “You’re making a mistake, Targaryen.”

Daemon’s grip on the pistol tightened. “Don’t lie to me,” he growled. “I saw your symbol in the video. She’s here, and I’m not leaving without her.”

“I don’t have your mistress,” Borros said coldly. “If someone used my symbol, it wasn’t with my knowledge.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe him. Without lowering his weapon, he pulled out his phone and called his men. “Search the entire estate,” he ordered. “Every room, every corner. I want her found.”

Borros stiffened but remained silent as Daemon’s men and their allies stormed the estate, searching every inch of the property. The tension between the two men was palpable, each second stretching into an eternity as they waited for news.

Minutes turned into hours, and one by one, the search parties returned, their expressions grim. The leader of Daemon’s men approached, shaking his head. “We’ve searched everywhere, sir. She’s not here.”

Daemon’s jaw clenched, his fury barely contained. He lowered the pistol but kept his gaze locked on Borros. “If I find out you had anything to do with this,” Daemon warned, his voice low and dangerous, “there will be no place you can hide.”

Borros met his gaze without flinching. “I suggest you find out who really took her,” he said. “Before it’s too late.”

Daemon turned on his heel, marching back to his car with his men following closely behind. As he got behind the wheel, his mind was already racing, considering his next move. He knew time was running out, and failure was not an option.

Your head snapped to the side as the door creaked open once more, the dim light casting a shadow over the figure stepping inside. The woman approached you with a cold, calculating expression, her eyes filled with disdain. Without warning, her hand shot out, gripping your face roughly, her nails digging into your skin.

"Why?" she hissed, her voice laced with venom. "Why would Daemon betray Rhaenyra for someone like you?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, your heart pounding with fear and guilt. You remained silent, unable to find the words to respond. If this was the reason for your capture, you cursed your own feelings, the forbidden nature of your relationship with Daemon now a bitter weight on your soul.

The woman's patience was thin. Frustrated by your lack of response, she struck you across the face again, the sting of her slap burning your skin. "Answer me!" she demanded, her voice rising with anger.

Your body trembled, the cold seeping into your bones, exacerbated by the dampness of your dress. You could barely manage to whisper, "I don't know."

The woman's grip tightened, her face inches from yours. "You don't know?" she spat. "You ruined everything, and you don't even know why?"

You sobbed softly, the pain of her words cutting deeper than the physical blows. "| never meant for any of this," you choked out. "I didn't want to hurt anyone."

The woman released you with a shove, making you stumble back against the chair. She paced the room, her anger simmering. "You're nothing but a distraction," she muttered, more to herself than to you. "Daemon will pay for this."

You watched her, fear knotting in your stomach. The reality of your situation pressed down on you, the hopelessness of escape looming large. Yet, through the haze of fear, a glimmer of hope flickered-Daemon would find you. He had to.

Daemon stormed into his home, his emotions a whirlwind of rage and despair. His footsteps echoed loudly in the silent hallways, his heart pounding with frustration. In the dimly lit living room, Aemond and Aegon rose from their seats, their faces lined with concern as they awaited any news.

“Did you find her?” Aemond asked cautiously, his single eye narrowing with unease.

Daemon stopped in his tracks, his expression dark. He shook his head slowly, the weight of failure pressing heavily on his shoulders. Without a word, he lashed out, flipping a nearby table with a ferocious roar. The crash of wood against marble reverberated through the room, a violent symphony of his anguish.

He didn’t stop there. His fists found a vase, shattering it against the wall. Chairs were hurled across the room, curtains torn down in his fury. The servants, startled by the noise, peeked nervously from the corners, unsure of whether to intervene or flee. The house quaked under the force of his anger, the once serene atmosphere now a chaotic tempest.

Upstairs, the muffled sounds of Daemon’s rage reached the ears of his children. They huddled close, fear and confusion etched on their young faces. Their father, the formidable and controlled figure they knew, was unraveling before their eyes, a man consumed by his desperation.

Aegon stepped forward, trying to reason with his uncle. “Daemon, stop. Destroying your home won’t bring her back.”

But Daemon wasn’t listening. His chest heaved as he stared at the mess he’d created, his mind a storm of worry for you. The thought of you alone, frightened, and at the mercy of unknown captors drove him to the brink. “I should have protected her,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Aemond, always the more composed of the two, approached cautiously. “We’ll find her,” he said firmly. “But we need a plan, not chaos.”

Daemon’s eyes finally met Aemond’s, his gaze filled with a mixture of hope and helplessness. He ran a trembling hand through his hair, trying to regain control. “I can’t lose her,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Not like this.”

Aegon and Aemond exchanged a glance, understanding the depth of Daemon’s feelings. They knew this wasn’t just about possession or pride—it was about love, however complicated and forbidden it might be. Together, they resolved to stand by Daemon, to do whatever it took to bring you back safely.

The sound of the door creaking open made your heart race with a mix of hope and dread. You turned your head, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that Daemon had found you—had come to rescue you. But instead, the figure that walked into the room was none other than Rhaenyra.

For a fleeting second, relief washed over you. She was here. But that feeling of comfort vanished in an instant when Rhaenyra’s hand collided with your cheek with a sharp, unforgiving slap. The impact stung, both physically and emotionally, and you recoiled in shock, your body trembling.

Rhaenyra’s eyes blazed with fury as she stepped closer, her grip tightening around your face. Her voice, usually calm and composed, was now a mixture of anger and disbelief. “How could you?” she hissed, her words cutting deep. “How could you betray me like this?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you couldn’t speak. You couldn’t find the words to explain, to justify the feelings that had developed between you and Daemon. Rhaenyra shook you, her voice rising as she continued. “I brought you into our lives, to help you, to make something of yourself—not to betray me! Not to sleep with him!”

Her accusations struck you like a thousand daggers. Every word felt like it was tearing apart the bond you once had with her, the trust that had always existed between you both, now shattered beyond repair.

You wanted to explain, to tell her that your feelings for Daemon were never meant to hurt her, but the guilt and shame suffocated you. “I never wanted to hurt you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Rhaenyra scoffed, releasing her grip on your face with a forceful shove. “You’ve already done that,” she spat. “You’ve betrayed not just me, but everything we’ve built. You can’t be trusted.”

Her words, cold and final, left you feeling empty. You had no defense, no way to undo the damage. All you could do was look at her, the woman you once admired, and feel the weight of your choices crushing you from within.

And yet, beneath the anger, there was something else in Rhaenyra’s eyes—a flicker of pain, a wound she was trying to hide. It was clear she didn’t just feel betrayed by you. She felt the devastation of losing her trust in you, and in some twisted way, it mirrored your own heartache.

But it was too late for apologies. Too late for explanations. The damage had been done, and no amount of regret could undo the betrayal that had transpired between you.

Daemon’s frustration reached a boiling point as he paced relentlessly in his office, shouting into the phone to his men. His voice was harsh, desperate for answers, for any clue that might lead him to you. The tension in the air was palpable, his every move filled with the weight of his failure to find you.

Then, Aegon, who had been quietly sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, caught his attention. He gestured toward his phone, his face a mix of concern and urgency. “Daemon, you need to see this,” he said, his voice laced with an unspoken dread.

Daemon turned sharply, his mind already clouded with worry, but the moment his eyes locked onto the screen in Aegon’s hands, his heart sank.

The video was dark, cold, and haunting. You were sitting in a dimly lit, damp room, your body trembling with the cold. Your hair clung to your face, your clothes soaked through. You were calling out for him, your voice breaking with desperation as you screamed his name, pleading for help.

“Daemon!” you cried, your voice filled with anguish. “Please… help me!”

Daemon’s breath caught in his throat, his grip tightening around the edge of the desk. The raw emotion in your voice sent a shockwave through him. Every instinct within him screamed that he had to act now, but the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks.

He knew that room.

He recognized the cold, desolate walls, the isolation. It was a place he had used in the past, a place where he kept those who had betrayed him, where he sought to punish those who had crossed him. It was hidden deep within Dragonstone, a place known only to a few, a place no one dared to venture unless they were prepared to lose everything.

And now, as the truth settled over him, Daemon’s mind raced. His own wife, Rhaenyra, had taken you. She had done this. She had taken you, and she had orchestrated your capture.

Daemon’s heart burned with fury and disbelief. Rhaenyra had known. She had known everything. The betrayal, the secret he had kept hidden from her, it was all out in the open now. The woman he had once trusted, the woman he had built a life with, had taken the one person who meant the world to him.

He turned away from Aegon, his chest tight with anger and guilt. His hand gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white. His mind was a storm of emotions—rage, confusion, sorrow.

“Dragonstone,” he muttered under his breath. “Of course… it’s always been Dragonstone.”

The weight of the realization crashed down on him. Rhaenyra had known what was happening between him and you. She had seen through their lies, through their deception. And now, she had made a decision. A decision that would change everything.

Daemon’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he turned to Aegon, his voice low and cold. “Get the men ready. We leave for Dragonstone now.”

There was no hesitation in his tone, no room for doubt. He would not let Rhaenyra have you. Not now, not ever. Whatever it took, he would bring you back.

As the plane soared through the sky toward Dragonstone, Daemon’s mind was consumed with the chaos that had unfolded. His thoughts spiraled back to the moment when Rhaenyra had asked for permission to go there, to handle affairs with the family. How had he not seen this coming? How had he been so blind to what she was capable of?

The weight of his own failure settled heavily on his chest. He had always thought he could control everything—his desires, his actions, his relationships. But this, this was different. The connection he had forged with you was a mistake he couldn’t undo. And now, that mistake was costing you dearly.

His eyes closed, a pang of guilt stabbing through him. The image of you, cold, wet, and trapped in that dark room, calling for him, was all he could see. He could only imagine how terrified you must have been. The fear in your voice echoed in his ears, and the thought of you suffering because of his choices made him sick to his stomach.

Aegon and Aemond, sitting silently across from him, exchanged glances, their faces serious. They had witnessed Daemon’s descent into turmoil but said nothing. They knew better than to disturb him in this state. His guilt, his frustration—it was palpable, suffocating even.

Daemon gripped his hair, pulling at it in frustration. “This is my fault,” he muttered under his breath. “I should never have let this happen. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to fall for you.”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, and his breath hitched. The last thing he wanted was for you to be caught in the crossfire of his own mistakes, yet here you were—taken, frightened, and alone—because of him.

His fingers trembled as he reached for the bottle of water beside him, but it did little to calm the storm inside. His thoughts raced with a thousand scenarios, a thousand ways he could’ve stopped this, ways he could’ve prevented Rhaenyra from ever discovering his betrayal. But what was done was done. All that mattered now was finding you, bringing you back safely.

Aegon, who had remained silent for the duration of the flight, finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady. “Daemon… this isn’t just on you. Rhaenyra made her choices too. She knew what she was doing, and she knew exactly what kind of effect this would have on you. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

Aemond, usually the more stoic one, nodded in agreement. “But you still have to fix it. You owe her that much… and you owe yourself the chance to right this.”

Daemon clenched his jaw, his fists tightening as he looked out the window, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the sea below. A storm was brewing inside him, one that would only be quieted once he had you back, once he had righted his wrongs.

“I have to make this right,” Daemon finally spoke, his voice a whisper full of determination. “I’ll bring her back, even if I have to tear down everything I’ve built to do it.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between them. Aemond and Aegon said nothing in return, both of them fully aware of what Daemon was capable of when pushed to the edge.

And now, in this moment, nothing else mattered. The world could crumble, alliances could shatter, but as long as you were safe, Daemon would do whatever it took to fix the destruction he had caused.

Daemon stormed into the grand house at Dragonstone, his steps heavy with urgency. His voice echoed through the halls as he called out for Rhaenyra. The tension in his chest was unbearable—he needed to know where you were, needed to find you, to make sure you were safe.

Minutes passed before Rhaenyra appeared at the top of the stairs, her face a mask of calm, as though nothing had happened. Her poise was unsettling to Daemon, who was consumed by the fear of losing you. He stared at her, his eyes wild with desperation.

“Where is she?” Daemon demanded, his voice sharp with anger and panic. “Where is she, Rhaenyra?”

But Rhaenyra did not immediately answer. Instead, she looked at him with a cold gaze, her lips barely parting as she spoke. “Why, Daemon?” she asked quietly. “Why would you betray me for her? Do you really think I would not find out?”

Daemon’s frustration reached its peak, but he didn’t have time for her questions, for her accusations. He was done with this. The only thing that mattered was finding you. Without another word, he pushed past her, his steps quick and determined as he moved toward the basement.

The door ahead of him was close—he could almost feel it. But as he reached for the handle, a voice stopped him. Rhaenyra’s voice.

“Daemon,” she called softly, the weight of the gun in her hand becoming clear. “Stop.”

Daemon froze. The cold, unmistakable sound of a pistol being raised sent a chill down his spine. His heart pounded, but he didn’t turn around. He knew what she was capable of, and yet, his focus remained solely on the door in front of him, on you, who he had to save.

His voice was low, a growl of frustration. “Move aside, Rhaenyra. This isn’t you. Don’t do this.”

But Rhaenyra remained silent, her presence behind him a looming threat. He could feel the tension in the air, but he didn’t let it stop him. Not when your safety was on the line. He was ready to face whatever came next, even if it meant confronting Rhaenyra, even if it meant sacrificing everything to get to you.

In that moment, Daemon understood the true cost of his actions. But no matter the price, he would not let you suffer. Not again.

Rhaenyra slowly approached Daemon, her steps measured, her expression unreadable. She snapped her fingers, signaling her men. Immediately, they moved toward you, their grip firm as they dragged your trembling body from the shadows. Weak and drenched, you were thrown to the floor at Daemon’s feet, your body shaking violently from fear and the cold.

Daemon’s heart shattered at the sight of you—helpless, vulnerable—and yet, he was powerless to act. His body tensed, his hands itching to rush to your side, to hold you, to protect you from the torment Rhaenyra had subjected you to. But he couldn’t. Not with Rhaenyra standing in his way.

You let out a soft whimper as you were unceremoniously thrown onto the cold stone floor, your body unable to bear the harsh treatment. Daemon’s breath caught in his throat, but his focus remained solely on you. He wanted to rush to you, to pull you into his arms and promise you that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t move.

Then, Rhaenyra moved toward you, her expression twisted in anger. She grabbed your hair roughly, yanking your head back so that you were forced to look up at Daemon. Her eyes gleamed with fury, a twisted satisfaction in her movements as she forced you to face the man who had betrayed her.

But what happened next was not what Daemon had expected. His gaze met yours, and what he saw made his chest tighten—your eyes, filled with pain and desperation. You looked at him, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke through your trembling lips, “Please, Daemon… save our child…”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. Rhaenyra froze, her gaze flickering between you and Daemon, as if processing what you had just revealed. Daemon, too, stood frozen, his heart racing, his mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of what you had said. His world tilted in that moment.

You were pregnant. With his child. And he hadn’t even known.

Rhaenyra’s face twisted in shock, the shock that mirrored Daemon’s own. The tension in the room was palpable, thick with betrayal, confusion, and the weight of unspoken words. Daemon’s emotions surged—anger, guilt, and a deep, aching need to protect you, to keep you safe, to fix everything he had broken.

Rhaenyra’s hold on you loosened slightly as she processed your plea, her eyes wide with disbelief, but the damage had already been done. The truth had come to light in the worst possible way.

Rhaenyra’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with fury as she screamed. Without a second thought, her foot connected with your belly, sending a wave of pain coursing through your body. You gasped, curling up as the cold stone floor pressed against your aching limbs.

Daemon’s body stiffened in reaction. He took a step forward, instinctively wanting to rush to your side, to stop Rhaenyra from hurting you any further. But before he could move, one of Rhaenyra’s men stepped forward, the cold, metallic gleam of a pistol aimed directly at Daemon’s head.

Daemon froze. The cold barrel of the weapon left him helpless, his body taut with frustration. He stood there, powerless, unable to do anything but watch, his heart breaking with every agonizing second that passed. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with sorrow and helplessness.

He wanted to comfort you, to ease your pain, but there was nothing he could do. He was trapped.

Rhaenyra, her chest heaving from the intensity of her emotions, turned toward Daemon. Her face was contorted in anger, but there was something else there—something raw, something deeply wounded. She marched up to him, face flushed with fury, tears streaming down her face as she shouted at him.

“How could you do this to me, Daemon?!” she cried, her voice cracking. “How could you betray me like this?!”

Her words were laced with heartbreak and rage, the agony of a woman who had been deceived by the man she had trusted most. She was breaking before his very eyes, unable to hold back the emotions that had been building within her for so long.

Daemon stood there, helpless. He had never seen Rhaenyra like this—never imagined that his actions would lead to this kind of pain. His throat tightened, and though he wanted to speak, to explain, to beg for her forgiveness, the words stuck in his throat. All he could do was look at her, his eyes filled with regret and sorrow.

Rhaenyra’s anger didn’t subside. She screamed, her pain evident in every movement, her hands trembling with emotion. Her voice cracked as she shouted again, “You have shattered everything, Daemon! Everything I ever believed in!”

Daemon wanted to reach out, to hold her, to tell her he was sorry, but he knew it wouldn’t fix anything. He knew he had caused this, and now, there was nothing left to do but watch as everything he cared about crumbled before him.

And through it all, you—his love, his future—lay there in the shadows, suffering, while he remained a prisoner of his own guilt and her wrath.

Rhaenyra’s eyes burned with rage as she glared down at you, her breath shallow and erratic. The tension in the room thickened, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone in the dark, silent space. Her hands trembled slightly, but her resolve was absolute as she aimed the gun straight at you.

Daemon’s heart skipped a beat. “Rhaenyra, no!” he shouted, his voice raw with desperation. He took a step forward, reaching out, but it was too late. The sound of the gunshot rang out, echoing in the small, dimly lit room.

The world seemed to slow down in that instant. You gasped, feeling the searing pain as the bullet found its mark. Time stood still as your body went limp, the excruciating pain taking over. You couldn’t process it fast enough. You tried to call out, to beg for mercy, but all that left your lips was a strained, choked gasp.

And then, chaos erupted.

Aegon and Aemond stormed into the room, their men following behind, moving quickly to subdue Rhaenyra’s guards. The air was thick with gunfire, the sound of combat mingling with the sharp cries of men in battle. Aegon was the first to reach Daemon, grabbing his arm to steady him as the sight of you bleeding on the floor shattered his composure.

Daemon didn’t look at them. He didn’t hear the chaos around him. All that mattered was you. His eyes locked onto your limp body, and without hesitation, he rushed toward you, his legs moving faster than his mind could comprehend.

“Please,” he whispered as he knelt beside you, pulling you into his arms. His hands shook as he cradled your body, the warmth of your blood staining his shirt. “Please, stay with me,” he begged, his voice cracking, the despair evident in every word. “For me, for our child… please.”

His hand pressed against your wound, trying to stem the bleeding, but the effort felt futile. He could feel your pulse—weak, faint, like a flickering flame in a storm. His mind raced, but there were no words that could fix what had just happened. All he could do was hold you, praying that somehow, you would pull through.

His breath hitched as he looked down at you, his world crashing around him. “I’m so sorry,” Daemon whispered, his voice broken. “This is all my fault. But you can’t leave me… not like this. Not now.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and for the first time, Daemon felt truly vulnerable—his entire life and everything he loved hanging by the thinnest thread. He was terrified. The sight of you slipping away, of losing you, broke him in ways he couldn’t explain.

He didn’t care about his wife, the betrayal, or anything else. All that mattered was you—your life, your future, the life growing inside you.

Aegon and Aemond stood back, unable to offer more than their silent support. They knew the stakes were higher than ever now. But in that moment, all the Targaryens could do was wait and pray that it wasn’t too late for you.

Daemon, his heart shattered, held you close, desperate to keep you alive.

Without hesitation, Daemon scooped you up into his arms, cradling you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His heart pounded in his chest, the fear gripping him tighter with each passing second. Blood seeped through your clothes, staining his hands, but he couldn’t let himself think about that now. He had to get you to safety.

“Out of the way!” he roared at the men surrounding the house, his voice laced with panic and fury. He didn’t have time to waste on formalities. His only focus was you.

He carried you to the car, his movements hurried yet careful. Placing you gently in the back seat, he climbed in beside you, pulling your fragile form close to him. The driver, sensing the urgency, started the engine and sped off, the tires screeching as they left the estate behind.

Daemon leaned over you, his face inches from yours. His fingers brushed against your cheek, trembling as he traced the outline of your face. You were growing pale, your breaths shallow, and it terrified him.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please, stay with me. We’re almost there.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued to stroke your face, his lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re strong. You can fight this.”

He clutched your hand in his, bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly. “I need you,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I need you. Don’t give up now.”

The car sped through the streets, racing against time. Daemon’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and fears. He couldn’t lose you—not like this. The weight of his guilt pressed heavily on him, but he couldn’t let it consume him. All he could do was hold on to hope that you would make it, that the universe would grant him one more chance to make things right.

As the hospital came into view, Daemon shouted to the driver, “Faster! We’re almost there!” The car skidded to a halt at the entrance, and Daemon didn’t wait for help. He lifted you into his arms again, rushing inside, yelling for assistance.

“Help her!” he begged the medical staff, his voice filled with desperation. “Please, save her!”

As they took you from his arms, Daemon felt a part of himself break, his soul aching with the thought of losing you. He watched as they wheeled you away, his heart in his throat, praying to every god he knew that he wouldn’t lose you tonight.

Daemon sat in the dimly lit hospital corridor, his heart pounding in his chest, each beat echoing the turmoil within. His leg bounced uncontrollably, a physical manifestation of the storm raging inside him. His hands covered his face, fingers digging into his skin as if trying to claw away the guilt and fear threatening to consume him.

He couldn’t sit still. The wait was agonizing, every minute stretching into an eternity. Somewhere behind those closed doors, you were fighting for your life, and the life of the child you carried. The thought of losing both of you was unbearable.

Aegon and Aemond had taken charge of the situation, dealing with Rhaenyra and her man. Daemon barely registered their presence. His mind was trapped in a relentless loop of regret and fear, replaying the events that had led to this moment. His betrayal, his recklessness—it had put you in danger. He had failed to protect you, and now you were paying the price.

Tears streamed down his face, silent and unchecked. He didn’t bother to wipe them away. His chest heaved with silent sobs, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. He was no stranger to violence, to conflict, but this—this was different. This was personal. This was his fault.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to himself, the words barely audible. “I’m sorry for everything.”

He thought about the last moments before you were taken into surgery, the fear in your eyes, the trust you still had in him despite everything. He had promised to keep you safe, and he had failed. Now, all he could do was wait and hope that fate would be merciful, that he would have the chance to make amends, to be the man you deserved.

As the hours dragged on, Daemon remained in that chair, his body tense, his soul tormented. Every sound, every movement in the hallway made him jump, hoping for news, dreading what it might be. His heart clung to a fragile thread of hope, praying that you and the baby would survive, that he wouldn’t lose the two most important pieces of his life.

Daemon’s head snapped up as the doors to the operating room swung open. He rose to his feet, heart pounding in his chest, as a doctor approached him, a somber expression etched on his face.

“The operation was successful,” the doctor began, his voice gentle yet heavy. “She’s stable, and we managed to save her. However…” He paused, his eyes filled with sympathy. “The baby didn’t survive. The pregnancy was still too early, and with the trauma she endured over the past few days, it was just too much.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Daemon’s knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, the weight of the news crashing down on him. His hands covered his face as the reality of the loss hit him like a tidal wave. His child—your child—was gone. His reckless actions had brought you both to this point, and now he had to live with the consequences.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled himself together, forcing his body to move, to be with you. Once you were transferred to a recovery room, he entered quietly, his steps hesitant. The sight of you lying there, pale and still, tore at his heart. He approached the bed, sitting down beside you carefully.

Daemon reached out, his hand trembling as he gently brushed his fingers along your cheek. Your eyes remained closed, your breathing steady but shallow. He took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss against your knuckles.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. “I’ve failed you. I’ve failed our child.”

His thumb caressed the back of your hand as he continued, his voice soft, almost a plea. “I’ll make it right. I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again. I swear it.”

He sat there, holding your hand, hoping that when you woke, you could find it in your heart to forgive him. But for now, he remained by your side, consumed by guilt, yet determined to never let you suffer alone again.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @zaldritzosrose @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @callsignwidow

[two-white-butterflies]

parallel lines | d. targaryen | part six

Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.

Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader

Trope: Reincarnation

series masterlist |

<<previous chapter

"To hold on, to the days when you were mine." - Peter, Taylor Swift.

These past few days, something has deeply changed in Daemon's psyche. He was always a neat freak, preferring to remain polished and clean on the outside while his mind was an overgrowth of plants that clouded his thoughts. He couldn't think straight then - but he kept a facade, pretending that he was sane. He wasn't.

Since seeing you in St. Joseph, he's lost all remnants of himself - the facade broke down and he was thrown into disarray. "Why is your shirt always untucked?" you chuckled, taking a step forward, as if it was second nature to fix his polo and tuck it into his pants.

"I was rushing," he found himself mumbling, confused at your sudden proximity to him. How long has it been since he's felt you? Had his fingers dance against your skin and body? You were always warm, and that was all he remembered about you.

Everything seemed to zone out in the background. He almost forgot that he was in a parking lot, and the sound of cars zoomed past him. All he could see was you, all that he could hear was you. He takes a deep breath, quickly composing himself.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, Rhaenyra herself even admitted that it was wrong. We shouldn't have fought in front of a guest." he apologized, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "If I'm lucky, I won't be a guest for long." you teased, fixing the strap of the handbag on your shoulder. "Mhm." was all he could muster.

The thought of you being married to his nephew made him want to puke. It made him want to kill himself.

He senses the awkwardness, he decides to clear his throat and look at his watch. "I guess this is goodbye. I'm running late for a meeting." he lied, staring at the side. "Of course, nice talking to you." you answered, equally as awkward as his intonation.

"See you tomorrow?" he smiled, walking past you.

"See you tomorrow." you replied, but he was too far to hear.

(ISLAND NEAR THE GHISCARIS)

Your mother descended from a long line of voyagers. Her family remained in Lyss, and life led her to Westeros. The skill of voyaging was long lost. You couldn't command a ship, even if your life depended on it - luckily, you were able to meet a group of female pirates on their way to the liberated islands near the Ghiscari Empire.

It was untouched due the large wall-like fortress that surrounded the shores. "I am surprised by your aptitude, not a lot of people appreciate the oceans well." Serenei, the woman that promised to keep you safe, handed you a cup of tea, the liquid inside of the cup was moving back and forth due to the waves.

"It's much like riding a dragon, though you shouldn't compliment me that much - I emptied my stomach a few hours ago." you giggled, remembering the reddish hue that your face turned into. Oh, your ancestors were turning in their graves. "Don't worry, it'll only be a few more hours until we reach the shores of Pharmaka." she placed a hand on your shoulder.

There was silence between the both of you, in fear of the unknown. You stared at the small round window beside you.

Would Daemon love the ocean too? You remember the War of the Stepstones. A sigh escapes your mouth, the wars have marred him and he wouldn't have loved the smell of salt air as much as you. "It's an island filled with women, not a single man is allowed." Serenei continued with a smile, and for a moment you pondered if she went though the same things that you did.

You shake your head. You wish that she didn't.

"It must be heaven, then?" Alyssandra leaned on the doorframe, trying to keep herself steady due to the treacherous waves that pumped against the ship's bodice.

"It is - utopia is what they call themselves." Serenei continued telling the story, a smile ghosts your face. Your life had turned into a story indeed, finding true love with a Dragon Prince - losing him and being forced to live through the tragedy in Harrenhal, and now you were halfway across the world, riding a ship that is going to a place that calls themself utopia.

(ST. JOSEPH SCHOOL OF DRAGONSTONE)

The steam of your coffee littered your face with kisses, and a groan escapes your mouth. You couldn't believe that you feel asleep through your entire free period. Those dreams weren't stopping, but the scenarios were drastically changing.

At first, they were filled with love - of scenes with you and the 'Dragon Prince' then they changed into nightmares - of ones that you couldn't remember, only waking up in tears - but now, you were in a ship to some unknown island that made you feel hopeful.

Once the story ends, would you be free of those dreams? Would you be free to live your life without those headaches that forced your head open, telling you that there was something that you forgot?

AEMOND NEW SIM How are you? You haven't messaged me in a while :(

YOU sorry i fell asleep hehehahaha 😭

AEMOND NEW SIM Sleeping on duty? tskk

Daemon interrupts you from replying by sitting next to you. There was a pang in your heart, something deep inside your mind telling you to run towards him and offer him a warm embrace. Flashes from your dreams come to you. The small round window, the small of salt breeze and his lavender eyes that felt like a thousand sleepless nights cuddled by the fire.

"Congratulations." Daemon opened his mouth to speak. He stared deep into your eyes, almost peering inside your soul. There wasn't an expression in your face that he hasn't seen a million times. "For what?" you inquired with a slight smile.

"The students proficiency in math has improved since you started teaching them." he informed, and you quickly remember that he attended a meeting earlier today.

A nervous chuckle escapes your mouth.

"They're struggling with the basic stuff, things that they're supposed to know in the first and second grade. I try to go back to those topics before getting back into the complex stuff." you explained, and the smile returns to your face, happy to speak about your passion.

"Whatever you're doing, it seems to be working." he continued to compliment, liking that look in your eyes - the fire. Your body shifts unconsciously, your elbows much closer to his. Your coffee has long gotten rid of its heat, but there was still a million things you had to talk about with him.

"By the way, I thought that you were familiar even before I got to know you - then Harwin and the family talked about that trip to Italy that we both had at the same day. I know it sound a little weird, but I'm pretty sure that the picture you posted on your instagram was taken by me." you opened up the conversation, and he freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

August 23. He remembered vividly, right after you took that picture of him, he promptly collapsed on the curb and was brought to a hospital. That was also the day that he finished remembering his past life. His memories were revived by you?

"A funny coincidence," he managed to choke out.

The Gods were playing a cruel joke.

He stares at your face, seeing your squinting eyes - waiting for his reply. He decides that this might be the right time to talk about Tirano. "When you left, I actually collapsed." he chuckled, playing with the ring on his finger.

"What? Why?" your eyebrows merged into each other.

"I don't know if I'm the only one but - when I was younger I used to dream about weird things, dragons, kings, wars. At first, my parents thought that it was just the result of an overactive mind but the dreams persisted until I turned into an adult - actually I think I was in my late thirties or early fourties when they stopped. It stopped after that trip to Tirano." he monologued, now evading your gaze.

If you weren't able to make the connection, then he would've revealed himself for nothing. "I dream about those things too. Strange." you whispered, your voice suddenly decreasing in volume. "I'm not the only one then," he looked to the side.

"But you said that they stopped? How did they stop?" you asked, wanting to rid yourself of those nightmares. He smiled, remembering seeing your face before everything faded to black.

"I dreamed about myself dying, and after waking up in a hospital bed feeling like I slept a million years, I never dreamt about it again." he confirmed and your heart sinks to your chest. "Holy shit, this sounds so fanatically cultish." you cursed. "- you're telling me that I need to die in the dream to stop dreaming about it again?" you repeated.

He replies with a shrug.

"Well that's going to take a long time. I'm in like, Act Three of the whole novel." you decided to keep the conversation light, although the topic was serious and you weren't sure if you were there to believe him. "How many acts are there?" he raised an eyebrow. "How many acts are in Madame Butterfly?" you quizzed.

"Three...so you're near the end." he smiled. "I'm not sure, for all we know it might just be the end of the beginning." you answered.

He stands up, hearing the bells ring.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure that you'll find a cure of your own." he bid his goodbyes and disappeared from the teacher's lounge.

AEMOND NEW SIM Can you pls catch a ride with someone u work with? I'm a little busy here in mom's house She's moving a few things Yknow her trip to Turkey

YOU Okay, what time will u be home?

AEMOND NEW SIM Probably before dinner If I'm out past six have dinner before me

YOU Alright, take care

next part >>