#reader x daemon

[sugarprincessbitch]

Alternative AU for the Iron Lady

Imagine if… Jahaerys instead of arranging a marriage between Viserys and Aemma Arryn, he come to the conclusion that his family was fracturing rapidly (cof cof because of him) so strengthening family ties will be for the best, and what is best than a marriage between siblings! At that time our Iron Lady was seventeen and Visery’s recently turned thirteen years old. Baelon I was entirely against it, he wanted his children ( as far as possible) to marry for love and not by obligation, but his father was the king and no one couldn’t go against a king wishes.

In the year 93 d.c the marriage was celebrated, it was a large festivity with immeasurable riches and nobles from every part of the reign. A noble lady would be joyous that her wedding will be the talking of the court for years to pass, but the older daughter of Baleon I was not happy nor sad, her usual stoic face was more unreadable than ever, not letting a single emotion visible reflected in her features. On the other hand, the groom couldn’t stop looking at how the beauty of her sister was enhanced by the soft lights, with a look of idiotic foolishness in his eyes.

Rhaenyra came shortly after in the year 97 dc, the labor happened without a fuss, but her loud and strong cries were heard all along the castle making her presence known. During Rhaenyra’s pregnancy the queen secluded herself in Maegor’s tower until delivery, at the expense of Visery’s pleads, with only the company of her lady’s in waiting; two women of hair as red as blood and a rather strange attitude, nobody saw them ever spoke a word, the only information about them is that they came from Asshai and were some type of priestesses back there. They’re called the Red maidens, because that was the only color that they would use on the every day.

Some years later, the queen fell pregnant again, and prince Baelor second of his name was born, being the first son of the queen and king, celebration of his birth didn’t took long to arrive.

In the first years of reign the king was not seen without his sister-queen, even at the meetings with the council she was there, always observing. Visery’s couldn’t end a phrase without looking first at his sister for approval. Some complained about the young king being manipulated by his wife, specially Otto Hightower, but complaints were silenced rapidly by Visery’s himself. 

More children came later; Aegon II, their second daughter Healena, Aemon I, and lastly their last son, Daeron I Targaryen. The children were not quiet ones, making a fuss everywhere they went, specially Aegon and his jealous tantrums when her mother will pay attention to his other brothers more than him. But the severity of her mother teaching, reigning them with an iron fist, was enough to keep them in line. 

As the years passed in Viserys reign more power his sister started to have, but when Otto Hightower was chosen as hand of the king (much to the iron lady's chagrin, she noticed how her grip on his husband was starting to loosen due to Otto’s schemes) began to occupy more and more space. Introducing himself as Visery’s  utmost confident and pushing his younger daughter, Alice Hightower, to influence Rhaenyra through a hollow friendship (in the queen opinion).

Her Brother Daemon although being her strongest ally, his constant rash behaviour was leading him to always be away from the Red Keep, making him not much reliable.

Everything that the Iron Lady painstakingly built, was slowly crumbling in front of her eyes, And she would do ANYTHING not to see it collapse.

[lanadelreylover11]

I feel like a virgin when I search up “x Reader” with a new character I like

[winnysplayground]

“he’s so babygirl”

babe he just killed somebody.

[realangelahernandez]

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Welcome to the world of “Being in love with a person who doesn’t exist in real life but you pretend they do anyway because you’re obsessed” ✧˖*°࿐

[cherrygirlfriend]

when funkyfrogbait said “how many einsteins have spent their lives washing dishes, how many mozarts bent over stoves instead of pianos because they had the misfortune of being born a woman.”

i might mostly post smut on this account, but i write SO much more than just fanfic, and every word i write is for every woman that came before me that couldn’t write what they wanted. it’s for my mother, my grandmother and my great-grandmother as well as the women that came before.

[hauntedfictionland]

You're serving cunt? There's a war going on and you're serving cunt?

Gif: @hoosbandewan, @peachysunrize

[princessbellecerise]

Unlikely Places

Summary ✩ The unusual place your hotd lover likes to fuck you

Warnings ✩ Smut, straight up blasphemy (Aegon), semi-public sex

Jacaerys Velaryon

As the King, it’s not exactly wrong for the two of you to do it, but it does feel taboo every time you ride him on the Iron Throne

Every time you climbed on his lap, mindful of all the sharp points and swords, you couldn’t help but think that you’re breaking some kind of rule that doesn’t exist. After all, Jacaerys is the King and technically it is his seat. As the most powerful man in the realm, there’s no one for you to answer to after doing such an act but it certainly feels like you should

The first time that he asked you to do it, you thought that he was crazy. It was so unlike Jacaerys to do something so…risky, that you genuinely thought it was a prank at first

Only when realized you that your husband was completely serious did you really start to consider it

And you had to admit, the rush of power that you got as you bounced on your husband’s cock, riding the most powerful man in the most powerful seat in the realm was nothing like you’d ever experienced before

It quickly became your guilty pleasure to do so, never minding when Jacaerys summoned you to the throne room at such late hours

For you knew what awaited you when you climbed those steps, and each time you were filled with delicious anticipation to do it all over again

Aemond Targaryen

Ever since he was a child, Aemond had been absolutely fascinated by dragons

His obsession with those beasts was almost unnatural as his mother used to say, and you were quite inclined to agree as one day, Aemond tried to convince you to let him fuck you on top of Vhagar

Of course, the request had been so ridiculous that you genuinely thought your husband to be ill at first, maybe having contracted some disease during his many travels

Only when you saw Aemond’s confident smirk did you realize that it was indeed not a jest, and your husband really did want you to ride him on top of a fucking dragon

So there you were, thousands of feet in the air and praying that you didn’t fall as you straddled Aemond’s lap

You held onto him tight as your cunt sank down, your hips moving with his in the large saddle

Every kiss, every touch was concealed within the clouds, Vhagar flying steady while you rode your husband. The sound of her wings masked the pathetic way you cried for Aemond, filthy praises and words of encouragement being whispered in your ears as you soared across the skies

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon figures that if he’s going to hell anyways, he may as well have a little fun in his mortal life

What’s life without a little risk anyways, he figures. This is why he has no problem fucking you in the Sept of Seven, having you on your knees, naked in front of the statue of the Mother

Instead of praying to her though, you worship him. You praise his cock and the way it makes you feel so good—better than praying, really

The absolute trill of someone coming in and getting caught is like no other. Sometimes, Aegon even hopes that you’ll be discovered—preferably by his mother or that cunt of Septa that’s always preaching about sin and virtue

He imagines their faces as he fucks you from behind, taunting you and making you look directly at the statue when you cum around him

Aegon’s never really believed in the Gods much, but the way your cunt feels wrapped around him is heavenly

And to him, there’s truly no greater tasting sin

Daemon Targaryen

Otto Hightower had once called Daemon brazen, irresponsible, violent, arrogant, reckless and a second Maegor

He supposed that it was true, but still, Otto Hightower was a cunt in Daemon’s mind, and the Prince would do anything to get back at him

…Including fucking in his bed

In Daemon’s very weak defense, he hasn’t meant to, really

When he pulled you in a for a kiss, intending to take you quickly before he had to attend a meeting later in the day, he hadn’t been paying attention to where he pulled you

He just wanted to feel you, to touch you before he had to leave for the day

And what do you know—the place that he ends up brining you to fufill your hurried tryst was the fucking Tower of the Hand

Neither of you realize it at first, too caught up in each other to notice the amount of green, grey and white around you

It isn’t until you stumble onto the actual bed, Daemon fumbling to get your clothing off do you finally look up and you’re greeted by a portrait of Otto fucking Hightower on the walls

Alarmed, you immediately tell Daemon and it takes only a second to realize where you’ve accidentally stumbled

Of course, Daemon thinks it’s hilarious and even if you want to leave, a little creeped out at the thought of being fucked on the same sheets the Hand of the King sleeps on, Daemon is entirely too thrilled to leave

Once the idea is in his brain, it won’t be going any time soon

A mischievous grin grows on your lover’s face, and somehow, Dameon convinces you to let him take on Otto’s clean, perfectly folded sheets, loving the way you mess them up with your messy fucking

Of course, he’ll just blame the servants for all the mess, but now every time he faces Otto there’s always a knowing smirk on Daemon’s face, smug that the Hand will never know the dirty things said and done on the very mattress he sleeps on

Cregan Stark

Cregan was the Lord of Winterfell, and because of that he was allowed to eat where he pleased, train where he pleased…and fuck where he pleased

It was this that he reminded you of as he took you in one of the hot springs the castle had to offer, water splashing as your husband’s hips thrust into yours

He had you on his lap, your tits pressed against his warm wet chest as you bounced on his cock

The both of you were well aware that this was a public place and that anyone could stumble upon you, but that only spurred you on more

Honestly, seeing your honorable and kind husband act so reckless was a turn on in itself, loving the way Cregan grunted and didn’t care who heard him

He was lost in the feel of your cunt and the warm water which only added to the sensations

Add that to the trill of getting caught, and neither of you really lasted long when you fucked in the springs

Still panting and filled with your husband’s seed, you grinned as you ran a hand through his tangled hair

“Another day without being caught,” You said, slightly disappointed

Cregan shrugged. “Well, maybe we’ll succeed next time.”

Benjicot Blackwood

“Ben, not here! Someone could see us!”

“Then let them see. Let those Bracken cunts see how a real man pleases his Lady wife,” Benji whispered, and you couldn’t even deny that fucking right on the Blackwood-Bracken boundary line didn’t bring a kind of fire to your veins that you craved

Your lover had always been more shy and sweet than anything else, but you knew just how deep his hatred for the Brackens ran when he threw all of that away and fucked you so close to their territory

Deep, satisfactory moans left his lips as he rutted into you, the thrill of getting caught edging you both on like no other

You pressed against Benji, panting as his cock drove in out of you and hit your sweet spots over and over

All you could think about, all you craved was cumming around your husband’s cock while his enemies watched; and you did

Benji was beyond proud of himself as you moaned and let the entirety of House Bracken know what was happening. Let them know how good he was making you feel

He felt bad for the wives of those smug cunts as surely they’d never know such pleasure, but at least Benji knew that you couldn’t relate

The Brackens could say whatever they wanted about his family, but at least the Blackwoods knew how to fuck

And who knows, if they were watching, then maybe they’d even learn a thing or two from Benji

tags 🏷️

@alyssa-dayne

[ophelieverse]

when my girl talks,you listen to her!

[wyvernest]

tf you mean "cregan was supposed to appear in the season finale and his scene was cut" give me my husband now

[update]

[hellisagemini]

*being obsessed with fictional blonde psychopaths is a crime*

me:

[sugarprincessbitch]

Imagine if Daemon and Viserys had an older sister that has the same age as Rhaenys, in fact they are close friends and sometimes political allies. She is cunning and cold, a little mischievous too. Because of her mother passing at an early age she acted like a second mother to her younger brothers, specially to Daemon, that created a strong bond between them. This Sister was the role model of Daemon growing up, the one that showed him the ways of life and the only one that daemon listen to, not wanting to disappoint her.

She is the one which Viserys confides the most and the first one to ask for advice about the realm management (basically she is the one that takes control behind scene, like a second hand).

I see her as a mix between a female version of Tywin Lannister and Visenya Targaryen. She is also into dark magic (like Alys Waters), that's why she looks so young despite of her age.

Her dragon is the ferocious Cannibal, that she claimed at the age of Fifteen.

She is very harsh with both of her brothers, wanting them to be capable of great things and to be in their best behavior, that created conflict with Viserys later on. The reason being her disapproval of Otto as his hand (The two of them are hungry for power and have a big ego, so they often clash with each other. Secretly they have a lot of sexual tension tho), the horrible political decisions and listening less and less to her advices is what irks her the most.

The common folk gave her a variety of names, but the most famous is "The iron lady" mainly due to her strong and fierce personality, unlike what was expected from a woman in that time.

Rhaenyra is very fond of her aunt, they are very close to each other, that bond became stronger with the death of Aemma.

The iron lady married twice (the first one at an early age, Gerold Arryn, this one was the longest until he died from a fever), she had a son from her first marriage, this son was called Baelon for her father. The second marriage didn't last long, two or three days before the marriage ceremony he was killed by Daemon due to a fit of jealousy (In fact, Daemon is very jealous and possessive of her sister).

Her son, Baelon II, is in a arrange marriage with Rhaenyra and the one that was choose by Viserys (obviously by her sister advice, cof cof manipulation) as his heir.

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Perfect Size

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is described as short, name-calling, swearing, Daemon being a horny menace, soft!dom! Daemon, talk of impregnation, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, smut

Summary: It was Daemon’s life mission to remind you of your size difference, in every aspect of your shared lives.

A/N: This is part of the wonderful @targaryen-dynasty 3K celebration, congrats by the way!!!! I had so much fun with this prompt. Enjoy everyone and enjoy the other wonderful and talented writers' fics. 3K Celebration Masterlist

My masterlist

The gods make humans in their image. They make them grow until they see them as perfect. Or so your Septa used to say whenever you were frustrated about your small stature. And it was no help that the greatest rake of the realm, Lord Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince himself, made it his life’s mission to remind you of how small you were.

As children, you had been a bit taller than him. He had a problem with it. The need to be bigger than a stupid girl was great. His growth spurt came and he nearly towered over you, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. “How is the weather down there?” He would often tease. “Just fine.” You would retort back. “I hope your small brain will get enough air up there. A shame if you lost more of it.” Was your sarcastic comeback.

The older the two of you got, the taller he would get and you would only grow a few inches if you even grew at all. First, he was slightly lanky. His muscles had yet to grow. He would remind you of a newborn horse whenever he would stumble over his two long feet as he trained with his sword. Often giggling to his dismay.

“I will cut your head off, and then you will be smaller!” He would shout in anger when he saw you snickering. Daemon’s temper seemed to grow with every inch he gained. You enjoyed it immensely when it would rise because of you.

As young adults, it was fairly certain that you would grow no more. If you stood behind one of the large dinner chairs you could easily hide behind them. Everything seemed to dwarf you.

Daemon prided himself in the knowledge that he was taller than you. Towering over you like the Hightower in Oldtown. And he never passed down the opportunity to remind you. “Shouldn’t you be with your nurse, little one? I think you got the wrong room. The nursery is that way.” Or other things.

You would glare at him. Often kicked his shin when no one was watching. He would yowl in pain. Jump around and hold his leg. “You little pest.” “Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds.” You teased back.

But there were the times he would call you more affectionate words associated with your small stature.

“Why the sour face, my little love?” He mumbled into your ear as he stepped out of the shadows. He had been hiding from his grandmother and her attempts to put boring and plain noblewoman under his nose.

A huff of annoyance escaped your throat. “Mother forced me to wear this ridiculous gown.” You seethed. Your teeth bared like a wolf snarling.

Daemon found your discomfort rather amusing. You looked like a pretty doll all dressed up. Your hair braided into the style of the land you came from. The gown so unmistakably the colours of your house, shining in the light of the candles.

"Oh, no - you're a lady and you have to wear pretty dresses and jewels and oh no, how horrible!" He teased you lightly. He leaned his head on top of yours. A habit he adopted quite recently. Loving the way you fit under him.

You snorted, very un-ladylike. But he was used to your characteristics. You were not one of those up-tied, boring wenches who tried to turn his head. He would rather gauge his eyes out before he gave them a second of his attention.

His attention was only worthy of one woman. And she was right literally under his nose.

He leaned down, just next to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the sensitive shell. “Do you think it would fit?” You could feel the smirk in his voice. You turned to him with a confused look on your pretty face.  It stayed that way until you felt something. You felt it, him. Hard as a rock, pocking you through the fabric of your wedding gown.

Your face grew hotter than the flames of Caraxes. Your body stiffened as you felt him softly rub against your buttocks. He only laughed lowly. His chest vibrates, sending chills up and down your spine. “You scoundrel!” You lowly scoffed. Your heart beating faster.

Not from his antics. Oh no, you were used to them by now. About the whole banquet finding out about Daemon’s little innuendo. “Oh, little love. I am your scoundrel now. It was ordered by the Queen herself.” He chuckled darkly.

She hit his shoulder lightly. “Stop it!” You tried to reprimand him. But your words fell on deaf ears. “Oh, my little love. How funny you will look with my seed growing inside you.” He began to whisper his lewd words. “You probably won’t be able to walk, so large your belly will grow.”

Your body grew hotter and hotter. It didn’t help that he had you pressed to his chest. His erection pressed against the cheeks of your perfect ass. His hands wander lazily over the front of your dress. Stopping over your belly before wandering further down.

“Oh my little love, will it even fit in your little tight hole? Or will I have to mould your little cunny so only my cock can fit inside?” Your breathing hitched at his dark, lustful words. Daemon’s predatory smile grew at your body's reaction to his scandalous words whispered so softly into your ear.

He often wondered if he was unfair to his wife. She was small, her body had nearly strained from the weight of the beautiful two children she had already given him.

He was right at their wedding feast. Her swollen stomach looked too large for her body. It hadn’t been long before the first signs of pregnancy made themselves known.

From the small bump only three moons after they conceived. He still can remember how his hands could cover it until she was seven moons pregnant. She had been ordered to rest. To not exhaust herself too much.

Daemon, looking at the image of her laying in their bed, their little one nestled in her belly. The sight did things to him. Things where his darkest desires seemed light in comparison. Oh, how he had spent his days behind her, driving himself into her tight cunt instead of sitting in a boring small council meeting. His wife and unborn child needed him, and he needed them.

“Another one?” You looked at him from where you stood. Children’s toys in your arms as you helped your daughters clean the room for the day.

Daemon just shrugged. “Why not? Add another one to our hoard. What about you girls? Do you want another sibling?” He crouched down so he was level with Alyssa and Visenya. Both girls looked away from their task to clean up the solar, screeching with joy as their father spoke to them.

“They are tots, Daemon.” You protested. Picking up more of the girls’ toys. “They will agree to anything if you say it with enough enthusiasm.” Daemon chuckled. “Oh, I think they know what I am saying, elillus (honey).” He smirks softly. His eyes roamed her body without shame.

“It has been so long.” “It has only been a few hours. You had me in the morrow.” You snapped back. Cleaning your daughters’ toys from the floor. Putting it into the chest designated for their toys. “I did not mean our coupling, prūmȳs ñuhus (my heart). I meant another child. The girls are six and four.” He mumbled gently.

She looked up at him sitting in the armchair at the edge of the carpet where the girls were playing moments ago. His violet eyes were dark as he watched her like the hunter his prey. “I don’t know, valzȳrys (husband). You heard the maester's words after Visenya’s birth.”

Daemon saw the change in demeanour. He nearly had you, only a small push. “It is your choice, ābrāzȳrys (wife). I do not want to force you.” He stood up, kissing your forehead before helping you with cleaning the toys up.

You were tossing and turning in bed. Nothing seemed right. Thoughts swirled through your head. So many voices at once.

You wanted to scream. But you would only wake up your family.

“Tell me what is keeping you from sleep, ābrāzȳrys (wife)” Daemon's gravel voice rang through the room. He sounded tired. His back turned to you.

“It’s nothing.” You whispered. “Bullshit!” Daemon groaned. Turning to face you. “It feels like I am sleeping next to a bloody sack of kittens. What is it.” He tiredly glared at her. Knowing full well what was going on.

“You’ve gotten into my head, you menace!” You growled out. Pouting at him. His usual smirk grew on his lips, a soft chuckle escaping. “Apologies for that, ābrāzȳrys (wife).“ „You are not sorry, Daemon.” His grin widened more. “You know me so well.”

A huff escaped your lips. “Why must you torment me so?” Daemon sat up on his forearm, looking down at you. Your hair was splayed out in a messy halo. A bright smile adorned his face as he saw the light, tired glare and the pout on your lips.

“Oh, little love, I vowed to be the bane of your existence since we played with the small dragon figurines our daughters’ play with now. And ever since it was announced you would be my dear lady wife I swore to torture you even more.” He softly nipped at your collarbone, his large hands coming to rest on your rips, just under your breasts.

“Let me help you with your decision-making. Let me enter your little cunny and stay there when I cum. Let my seed fill your womb once more.” His imposing frame loomed over you. Covering you like a blanket.

“What if the maester is right?” “The maesters are cunts who want to see me unhappy and you in doubt. They told you after Alyssa you could not carry another child. Two years later they said the same after Visenya.” He kissed your shoulder gently before his expressive violet eyes stared at you. “What is your body telling you?”

You bit your lip gently, A small rumble going through Daemon’s chest at your gesture. But he restrained himself. “I want another one.” You whispered gently.

A smile broke greater than before out on his lips, his dimples showing. “I will not let anything happen to you. The moment your body is resisting, I will get you moon tea or whatever is necessary.” You nodded gently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Now before we can even discuss the pregnancy, we must make it happen.”

He lifted himself so his arms were on either side of your head. “Oh my sweet, I longed to fill up your little cunny. Seeing it overflow with my seed. Stuffing it back in.” He laughed gently as you shuddered.

With haste born of his pent-up desire, he ripped all of your clothes off your and his body. You gasped softly, scolding him for literally ripping your nightgown. “I never liked it anyway.” He mumbled against the skin between your breasts. Slowly moving down to your stomach.

He worshipped your body, caressing your thighs and hips. Squeezing the flesh around them, even gently nibbling on it.

He kissed each and every lightning-bold-like scar. Mumbling with every kiss a small thanks. These were the marks of his children. Evidence of your brave sacrifice.

He went further down. His lips ghosted over the soft locks, his eyes watching you heave out breaths of anticipation.

A loud scream ripped from your throat when you felt his tongue plunge deeply into your wet core. The eagerness of his lapping overwhelmed your senses. His nose ever so lightly brushed against your pearl. Teasing it to shoot lightning throughout your body.

You came undone. His tongue, nose and two of his digits working in tandem to torture you. And it worked. Your back arched off the bed. Loud cries of his name and pleas for him to stop accompanied your downward spiral into the abyss of your pleasure.

He stared down at you hungrily. His vibrant eyes were dark with lust. He looked every bit the dragon he ought to be. “Little rabbit.” He growled out. “Sweet, little rabbit. Trapped beneath the large dragon.”

He leaned down again. Like Caraxes would decent upon his pray, Daemon came down upon you. Devouring you once more.

He held your thighs wide open as he ploughed into you. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin rang through the room. His large hand wrapped around your delicate neck, softly pressing against it. Your breathing coming out in small pants.

“You should see yourself, little darling. My large hand is like a necklace on your throat. I can nearly wrap it around.” He chuckled darkly.

His words elicited shivers to run up and down your spine. This action causes your body to tense slightly. Daemon roared as he felt you squeeze his cock. “Seven fucking hells, woman! Do you want to kill me?!” He panted out. Driving his cock deeper inside you. The stretch is a familiar pain. But not too unpleasant. He had prepared you for him. And he would hate for you not to enjoy your coupling.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss. It was so different from the way his hips moved. So slow and loving. “I am not hurting you, am I, my little darling?” He whispered. You shook your head. “Nothing I am not used to from you.” He grinned, nipping at your lower lip, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered.

He picked up his pace. His hands on your thighs clawing into your skin. His knuckles are white. He groaned and grunted, looking down at you with an intense stare. Your own moans and cries mingle with his. Creating a symphony of pleasure.

He came with a roar of your name, his face buried into your neck. Panting heavily next to your ear. Your own climax is triggered by the feeling of being filled with his potent seed. Both your eyes closed in bliss.

He stayed inside you even as his member softened inside you. The grip on your thigh remains tight. Like he needed to be grounded by you.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, softly caressing his head. He hummed gently, letting you know he loved what you were doing. “Do not dare to stop.” He mumbled gently into your neck. You continued with your caress. Softly petting him like he was a dog.

He fell asleep like this. His spent cock inside you, keeping his precious seed inside you. His body acted like a blanket. Your hand in his hair.

[winnysplayground]

“i can fix her, i can fix him, i can fix them”

i think we need to work on you first.

[stillinracooncity]

that feminine urge to read something that makes you cry, get angry, scream, laugh like a hormonal teenager, turn up the heat, feel like the most unique and beautiful human being on earth. *sighs*

[the-djarin-clan]

When you look for a fic on Tag Reader and the main character already has a name and social security number...