#daemon targareyn smut

[zephyrrr101]

Not like her

Pairing: Daemon x niece reader

Warning: Targcest/incest, DUBCON?, size kink and breeding kink light, mention of somnophilia, slight manipulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, first intercourse, sweet Daemon, Daemon being a soft uncle hubby.(Because I simp) All ASOIAF warnings. MINOR DNI (but do with hungry bitches care?) also not proof read. High Valyrian translation might or not be wrong.

You looked around the Throne Room which had now was filled with hoards of people, All the nobles have made there way to King’s Landing to attend your sider sister, Rhaenyra’s wedding to your cousin Ser Laenor Velaryon. It was a match made out of convenience, you had known that.

Father had not told you much, nor had your maids and lady companions, all having been sworn to silence by your father. But it didn’t take much for news to not get to your ears. Red Keep was never able to keep gossips.

Apparently, Rhaenyra had been seen beyond the walls of Rad Keep during hour of wolf with someone in unseemly situations. There were no proofs that anyone had, but it had been enough for your father to set this betrothal to push the rumours away.

They weren’t rumours.

It was your sister’s sworn shield who had been the man who Rheernyra had shared her bad with that night. She had spoke to you of this a week after, since you broth were always close, your mother’s death bringing you even closer. You did not mind. Several lords went around having bastards, women too laid with men before marriages, you knew of it, why must Rhaenyra be kept from something she wanted But your sombre mood was not for your sister’s situation. Rhaenyra was strong and she welcomed things in her life with courage, even this marriage. Your issue was that your father, after he had talked with Rhaenyra, had a conversation with you too. You will be wed by the next year to a man of your father’s choosing. He did not seem to want another one of his daughters going and finding trouble.

You had hoped your father would give you the same liberty of choosing your husband that was given to Rhaenyra. You would not had minded choosing, you weren’t picky. You were a second daughter, getting many in a good family was always supposed to be your job. But you would have rather preferred if you could have a little bit of choice in it.

Thank you, Rhaenyra, I love you. But you fucked it up for me, Fuck you.

“Something on your mind, sweet niece?” You turned to Daemon who sat on your right. You were given the seat beside the Queen Alicent, not your preferable place, things between you and Alicent were awkward. She was your sister’s friend turned step-mother. You didn’t talk much, it was weird.

You sighed, turning to your uncle, who had come back from his trip to Stepstones a few days back. He had proven is determination when it came to the barren land. He had won it and now with your father’s blessings looked after the protection of Westros from there, visiting the place some times. “Father is setting up my betrothal.”

Daemon frowned, you could tell he was not happy, Daemon had been a constant in your and Rhaenyra’s life even of he was banished half of the time, more to you. While Rhaenyra had your father, you had your uncle. “Who?”

“I cannot say,” You fiddled with your cup of wine, you had lost your focus, drifting off in solace of solitude. “Father has not told me. But he says I will be wed by this time next year.”

Daemon did not reply. And you turned your attention to middle of room, Rhaenyra and Laenor had started to dance. You tipped your cup up, finishing your wine in one go you did not notice anything after that.

You did not notice how Daemon’s hand clenched around his cup as he glared at anything he could see, how his lilac eyes would fall over you, locking at your distressed race, how he counted each line that marred your forehead, how your tongue had slipped out of your mouth to catch the stray drop of wine and how licked it, your red tinged tongue moving over your lips wetting them. And you certainly did not notice the way he gripped Dark Sister’s pommel when Ser Harwin had come to ask you for a dance and you had agreed, leaving with the large dark haired knight.

No you did not.

You danced with other lords but again found Your way to Ser Harwin, or he did to you.

He spoke something to you, learned down so only you could hear him, Daemon could only imagine how he would be taking in your scent of jasmines, such a calming fragrance.

You nod.

He could not hear you from the distance but he had been around you for a lot longer to imagine how sweet your laughter must be in Strong knight’s ears.

This was it.

Daemon slammed his cup on the table, gathering attention of a few people around him and walked away, his brother’s cautioned words, blurred in his ears.

Ser Harwin was telling you about his tales of City Watch, how he sometimes sees the most hilarious things. Your favourite being the one where a certain lord was hit and thrown out of a pleasure house by one the workers and Ser Harwin had found him crying drunk with a bruised cheek. You had not noticed Daemon’s presence until he asked Ser Harwin if he could have a dance with you.

Who was he to say no to a seasoned warrior and dragon rider who could burn him to ashes if declined what he wanted.

“Ziry issa?” Is it him? Daemon asked you, you had well spotted the frown on his face and anger that was flowing in his lilac eyes. Something you could not comprehend.

“Skoros?” What?

Daemon takes your hand his, you let him guide to where ever he wants to, which happens to the farthest part of the dancing area, lesser people are here and you understand that whatever it must be that he wants to speak of he doesn’t want other to hear.

“Harwin,” He looks away from you and you follow his eyes, finding them on your father. It takes a moment for you to realise what he is asking.

“gimin daor,” I don’t know. You sighed. “It doesn’t matter does it, kepus? I must trust Father in his choice.”

“Your father’s choice?” He whispered, you could feel his breath tickling on your neck. “Look at this choice of his. Laenor is a good man but he will bore your sister senseless. And let us not forget his tastes.”

“It’s not that I don’t wish to marry, kepus,” You mutter, you suddenly found his doublet more interesting than the music or the dance. “But...”

Daemon hummed, his hand softly drew circles on the small of you back, you felt a shiver going through you.

“I understand politics but... I’d rather not be used as a pawn for gain without my say. At least without me knowing who I will be tied to for my whole life. I love my father, I really do,” you sighed, your eyes fell on your father and Alicent sitting beside him in a green dress. This wedding looked more like a disaster. “Look how miserable Alicent is. I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.”

Daemon listened to every word that left your mouth keenly. He embedded all of them in his very soul. His niece, his sweet and young niece who had been nothing but kind to him despite everything he might have one that could have hurt her. Even when his brother had sent him away for giving a moniker to his dead nephew all those years before. She had come to say good bye to him. Told him how she did not care for a boy who she didn’t even knew and wished him a safe journey, His little doll who always came to him when she didn’t like the braids her maid would put in her hair and have him redo everything.

I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.

And he imagined you, sitting beside some very aged lord, with life span of no long than a few years, who didn’t seem to be caring about anything but the cup of wine in his hands, children standing beside you and one in your hands, all while you looked sullen.

No. He couldn’t let it happen, Not when he knew how marriages like that ended up being.

He smiled at you, one his hand grabbing yours and other one caressing the soft skin of your cheeks, He looked at you with such intensity, with such fondness that you couldn’t help but feet the heat crawling up your neck.

“You won’t end up like her.” He told you and you knew better than anyone that his words were not hollow. It was an unsaid promise.

The wedding did turn out to be a disaster. Rhaenyra’s sworn shield had murdered Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, an event which had led to a rushed marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor. As soon as the chaos erupted, your uncle had pulled you away towards the doors of the hall since you both were closer to it than the royal table.

The stress had caused your father to collapse and another thing had come to light some disease was eating him alive and now he had lost his arm.

In all, the day had been a like riding a wild dragon.

From what you could tell it was past midnight. And you could think of nothing better than trying to put yourself to sleep. It hadn’t taken much too. As your head hit the pillow and darkness engulfed you.

You had been sleeping deeply and peacefully. The tiring and stressed moments of the wedding had lulled you like an infant after having drunk a tummy full of milk.

You could not understand what it was that had woken you up. You felt hot. Surely it wasn’t winter and days in King’s Landing were hot sometimes but not so much to cause her such bother. Though it was not enough to cause you to get out of your sleepy reverie.

You let out a whine when you felt something moving over you leg and your shoulder, making you pull your leg away and shake your shoulder to put whatever was causing you discomfort away. The point between your legs felt wet, making you a bit worried about your moon blood but you were too far gone in sleep to care.

It was the wine you had drank like water before going to sleep. Curse the fucking thing.

It was a sound, something like a chimes that hit each other when wind flowed, that made you snap out of our daze a little bit. You forced you eyes your to open as much as they could which wasn’t a lot. You were drunk and sleepy. But you could recognise that voice and figure even in your blurred sight.

“Kepus?”

Daemon smiles at you. There were very few people who had seen him really smile genuinely. You were one of them. But this smile was different. There was something different about it. You couldn’t comprehend it.

Daemon hushed you, his hand softly laying you back again, It was then when you slowly started to come to sense. He was hovering over you and you felt his other hand between your legs, right on your...

“Kepus, what are you doing?” You almost shrieked, understanding what was going on, “Kepus, what—"

“Be quiet, sweet girl,” Daemon whispered, and leaned down, his lips falling on your cheeks, so, so close to your lips. His fingers circling your cunny, a place that was not supposed to be bare to anyone but your husband. “You didn’t want to be a pawn, right?”

“But-but Daemon—” whatever you were thinking of saying was long forgotten when you felt his his finger entering you, your breath hitched at the foreign sensation. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered, you weren’t sure if you had spoken it or if it was in your mind only.

“And why?” His voice low, you felt as if you were speaking of some centuries old secret with him. “I promised you that I wouldn’t let you be married just like this. I will keep my promise, sweet niece.”

“Daemon,” you whispered, your denial was dying on your lips with him adding another finger in you, his thumb rolling around your nub and his lips on your neck. He hummed and those were the sweetest vibration you had ever felt on your skin, a shiver passing from the junction of your neck and shoulder to your core. Some cold wind had not caused this. This you know. It was him, your kepus who did this.

Your hands went to his shoulders, bare shoulders, he did not have his tunic on. Your skin touching his warm one. He was always warm. Like a dragon. “Please,” you gasped feeling his fingers go deep in you and you squeezed his shoulders.

His fingers moved faster in you, his teeth biting at your ear, “Is this what you are asking, sweetling?”

If only you knew what you wanted. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to let go of this feeling. “Yes-fuck-kepus!” You moaned feeling his fingers curl in you. And then another on being added.

“Don’t worry,” Daemon kissed your forehead, and you realised how really small you were in front of his tall stature. Even laying he could easily reach you forehead when his fingers were far down. “Kepus will take care of. Always.”

You knew he would. Mayhap, it was that fact that you had not called out for someone.

You felt your lower abdomen clenched, you weren’t sure it was. It felt as if someone was pulling at it but from inside. And somehow it felt good too. “Kepus, Kepus, there...”

“I know, sweet girl,” his fingers moved in you even more faster, and that was all you could feel. “Let go. Just let go.”

His thumb softly pressed on your nub and you gasped.

Something washed over you, something ecstatic. You felt free. Just like when you were on dragon back.

You panted, feeling as if you were knocked out of breath. Maybe you were. You look at Daemon, as he softly pulls his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth, you couldn’t help the heat on your face when you remembered that it was your arousal that he was happily sucking off his fingers.

You looked at him in daze, everything seemed hazy for a few moments. Daemon leaned over you, his knuckles brushing your cheeks before his lips dropped on yours.

They were surprisingly soft, you had always imagined him having a hard touch but here he was, touching you as if you were made of glass, that you would break at the slight wrong caress. You felt his tongue on your lips, and you opened, letting his soft muscle of his mouth melt into yours.

You let him do what he wished to for some moments, unaware of what you were supposed to do but it didn’t take you long to catch up and you moved your tongue against his, you felt losing breath by every moment though nothing seemed to matter. It was heaven where Daemon was taking you. And you did not want to fall down from there.

“Fuck!” You heard Daemon curse as he parted from you, and his lips fell on your jaw and something hard rubbing your core. Your hips bucked up, unconsciously and you moaned. “Stop doing that, sweet girl,” Daemon spoke, his lips were moving down and down from your jaw to your neck, his hands pushing the sleeves of your slip down, his mouth leaving wet trails between your breast.

“kepus,” you were too lost. Your uncle looked like one of those Gods of Old Valyria. So beautiful, his burnt skin like stars on the dark sky. Your hands wrapped around his arms, feeling his full strong muscles, your finger traced the healed wounds, you felt your inside twist and turn. “kepus,”

Daemon pulled away, his eyes were dark, almost pitch black, he was sat between your legs. When did that happen you weren’t aware. You chest heaved as you took each breath greedily and watched his hands moving to his breeches’ laces, pulling them and he shed off them off. You eyes were on him, whole of him and your breath hitched.

So lost in the sight of him you didn’t know when he came back and kissed you, until his cock rubbed into you and you moaned. “Kepus,”

“Shh. It’s alright.” He whispered, his hips moved, you could feel him even when he wasn’t inside you. “Fucking hells, you are wet. You want this just much, don’t you?”

You didn’t get to answer him, feeling his head on your entrance, at this moment.

“This will hurt, sweetling.” Daemon kissed your forehead, his hands brushed your cheeks and hair just like when he wanted to comfort you at any peril of your. “but it will become better. I will make it all better.” And with that he pushed inside you, slowly, and you felt yourself stretching around him as he moved in slow, sucking in breath sharply and curses leaving his mouth, all faded to you.

He wasn’t lying when he said to would hurt. “kepus,” Your nails dug into his shoulders and he kissed your cheek with caressing your head all the while.

“Good girl, such a sweet girl, taking my cock so nicely.” You could hear his groans loud and clear even when he was speaking softly and slowly. “so tight, so firm. But you will take it, won’t you?”

You didn’t answer but hid your face in his neck, tightening your hold on him. You felt tore apart, yet you didn’t want to let go. “so big, kepus,” you whispered as he continued to bottom himself inside you and he kissed your neck saying words of praises.

It felt like hours when he stopped, Daemon by then had bit on your neck several times, you felt as if you’d had bled, but there was no worry about it. He won’t hurt you. You knew.

“Open your eyes, love,” He whispered and you did, he was just a hair width away from you and you could look at his eyes so clearly, his pools of lilac, light than that was your. You wished to have his eyes in your childhood.

He kissed you again and you kissed back. You couldn’t have enough of his mouth on yours, the taste of yourself and the wine mixed in both of your mouth was so sweet to you.

“Come to Dragonstone with me,” His forehead touched yours. Both of you were breathing each other in, “Take me to husband and I will take to you wife, in tradition of our house. You won’t be like her. Ever.”

You won’t be like her, he said. And you knew he was true to his words. He will be. He will not. Not like Alicent.

Not like her.

“Avy jorraelan, Kepus.” I love you, uncle.

Daemon smiled. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen in your life. “Avy jorraelan, donus rinus.” I love you, sweet girl.

Daemon moved in you, slow at first, so deep, you moaned at each stroke, every time his hips met yours, you couldn’t help but cry out first in discomfort and then in pleasure.

His lips descended upon your breast, taking your nubs in his mouth, he suckled at one like a babe hungry for their mother’s milk, his other hand playing with your other and his hips pushing into yours. You couldn’t hear anything but his grunt and groans and your moans and whimper.

Daemon held your legs, putting them around his waist. If you thought he was deep before, he was reaching way inside you.

“This cunt, your cunt was made for me, sweet girl. Look how good it take me. Even when you were asleep. Getting wet for me. It knows it’s mine. You know that too, don’t you?” you ought to feel humiliated and offended at such words. Being owned by some was not something you liked. But the way Daemon said it only made you clench harder around him making him groan, “fuck, yes. Yes, you do.”

“Yes. Yes, Kepus.” You whimpered at his fast pace inside you. Lost in the world of pleasure you were, you couldn’t hold your noises anymore. But of course you uncle would remedy it for you, putting his lips on yours, drinking every single sound in which left your mouth.

You clenched, your hands in his hair, pulling at them, feeling the tugging feeling as before in you. Daemon knew it all well.

“Going to give you my seed and you will swell with our child, sweet,” Daemon muttered in your ear. You felt yourself liking the prospect. Even imagining it in your head as your uncle rutted in you.

Our child.

“Yes”, you nodded, kissing his neck, “a babe, Kepus. With your eyes. I love your eyes.”

“Whatever, my sweet girl wants.” He grunted and you clenched on him again.

“Fuck, kepus.” You moaned, you were sure by now you had scratched his back bloody. “I... I feel it. It hurts.”

“I know, sweetling,” he muttered, “Let go. Just like before. Let it go.”

It wasn’t long you felt the same bliss wash over you and you felt warmth fill you in. Daemon’s seed, you knew it was as you both panted. Daemon stopped moving inside you after a few more strokes, but he did not pull out. He lowered himself to your bed and pulled you on him.

You rested your head on his chest, some silver hair, rubbing against your cheek, you took in the scent of his sweat, his skin glistening under the moonlight that fell in your room.

You felt him pull the sheet over the both of you, his hand running over your hair and exhaustion began to take over you. Your eyes drooped but you kept blinking the sleep away.

“Sleep,” Daemon kissed your head and you fell asleep just as quick as you had woken up, you hands wounded around his neck.

You prayed it not to be a dream.

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #targ reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targareyn smut #rhaenyra targaryen #king viserys #alicent hightower #viserys i targaryen #house of the dragon fic #hotd fic

[ultralightpoe]

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Updated House of the Dragon Masterlist, all the links should be working now. (Ps. it's mostly Aemond)

You can find my MAIN Masterlist here.

Last Updated: 3-28-24

"Exhausting, wasn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are."

-ALL WRITING IS AT A PAUSE BUT REQUESTS ARE OPEN!-

-Aemond Targaryen-

Blood of My Blood - - Part 2 - - Part 3 - - {Finished ;) }

Kin of Mine - - Part 2 - -

Salt The Earth Behind You - - And Let The Blood Bind You

Mistaken Hatred

Silent Heartbreaks

The Marriage

The Deal

Willing

Nightmares

The Court - - The Absinthe

Did You Hear The Rain?

You Might Be Sleeping

The Summoning

Love Story

Dancing With Your Ghost

Everyone I Love Is Dead

Tear You Apart

Me & The Devil

The Great War (Midnights Album Event)

All Hallows Eve (2023 Halloween Event)

Rubies Hidden With Blood

-Daemon Targaryen-

Simplicity of the Winds

-Rhaenyra Targaryen-

Faith in the Sword

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemom targaryen #daemon targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemnd targareyn smut #aemond targaryen angsr #aemond targaryen possessive

[humanpurposes]

Come So Close That I Might See, part i

Desperate to secure her position, Aegon's wife turns to Aemond for help // Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

Warnings: 18+, language, infidelity, smut (p in v, female receiving oral), breeding kink (kinda), and also a bit of fluff.

Words: 4800

A/n: this is my first oneshot! I've been sitting on this for literally months and finally got round to editing it. Also available to read on AO3.

Every breath Lucia took was like ice in her throat.

Her fingers came to toy with the Valyrian steel band around her ring finger. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Five years of whispers behind her back, agonising audiences with the Queen, the Hand and her Westerling and Lannister uncles. “The realm needs a son,” they all said, as if she hadn’t known that the moment she had said her vows to Aegon fucking Targareyn.

Her husband knew what he was doing. He had all but confessed countless times how he resented his position, how he did not wish to be crushed under the weight of duty despite the ambitions of his mother and grandsire. 

She knew her duty, to give King Viserys another grandchild to dote upon, give the Hightowers the heir they needed, and secure her own position as the wife of a future King.

For Aegon, a child would be a burden, another duty to squander. He demanded use of her hands and her mouth of the few occasions he bothered to visit her bedchamber, but otherwise he was content to pounce upon the nearest serving girls or fuck his way through Fleabottom.

Five years of humiliation.

She anticipated what talk might stir with the arrival of the King’s guests at court. A great feast had been planned, to celebrate the new additions to their family. Helaena and Martyn Hightower were due to arrive from Oldtowen to present their daughter, Rhaella, while Princess Rhaenyra had delivered her second son with Daemon, another silver haired Prince, named in honour of the King.

She delighted in seeing Helaena again and could hardly contain her excitement when she saw a flash of cobalt blue in the sky that marked the arrival of Daeron and Tessarion. The Prince and Princess had been both sent to Oldtown so soon after Lucia’s marriage to Aegon, but she missed them more than she did her own siblings in the Westerlands.

Then came the party from Dragonstone, Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their small army of children. Aemond had tested her memory before their arrival; Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Baela, Rhaena, Aegon and Viserys.

Aegon was nowhere to be found when they were welcomed into the throne room. Lucia half hoped the captain of the city watch would come to her with news that his corpse had been found on the floor of a tavern. Instead she stood between Queen Alicent and Prince Aemond.

When the three boys with Velaryon blue cloaks and unruly dark hair bowed before the King, Aemond leaned into her ear. “That’s the bastard I have to thank for my sapphire,” he whispered.

Aegon eventually made an appearance at the feast later that night, sauntering in as the main courses were brought out. He already had a glazed look in his eye and dark purple stains in the corners of his mouth. Lucia shared a pointed glance with Aemond as her husband took his place beside her.

She did not have to suffer Aegon for long. Once the music picked up and the dancing began, Daeron was the first to lead her to the floor. Then, from the other side of the table, Jacaerys took Baela’s hand and joined them, the four of them dancing, twirling and laughing together, regardless of the scowls that came from Prince Daemon and Otto Hightower. Then came Lucerys and Rhaena, and after them followed Helaena and her husband. 

After a few exhaustive rounds, Lucia thought she might need a glass of wine to recover her strength, until her eyes fell to Joffrey, looking a little abandoned. She took his hands and led him through a dance, which mostly involved them spinning in circles rather than following the steps. The boy looked up at her in awe as she twirled them around the floor.

“The Strong boys” were not so bad, she thought, they were gracious and lively, but in the back of her mind she couldn’t quite forget the terrible scar that slashed across Aemond’s face. She looked back to him as she danced. She expected to see that stoic, silent fury she had become so accustomed to, instead he looked rather… she settled on amused. His eye was softer than usual and his lips curled ever so slightly into– not quite a smile but it was hardly a frown either. 

And each time she turned her head he was already looking at her.

She felt the whole thing had been a success. Until Lord Tyland came to her the morning after Rhaenyra’s departure for Dragonstone.

He barged into her chamber, standing over her as she took her breakfast. “We cannot delay any longer.”

“Good morning to you too, uncle.”

“How often do you share a bed with your husband?” He hissed.

Lucia swallowed her mouthful of blackberries. “Not often.”

“Speak plainly,” he demanded. “You are the wife of the King’s oldest son, you are not entitled to privacy.”

Clearly. She took a breath. “He will not come to my bedchamber, if he can help it, only if he is too drunk to remember he despises me. And then he… is never able to fulfil his marital duties.”

“This cannot go on.”

“And yet it has been the case for four years, uncle. Aegon simply does not wish to make me a mother. You may seek to ask the Queen to lecture him, but I am not the one at fault.”

“That is simply not good enough.”

“So what would you have me do?”

“Whatever it is you must do. You have seen how disputes of succession cause instability, and without an heir, Aegon’s position, our position is not secure.”

She knew little of the arrangement between the Hightowers and the Lannisters. Perhaps her family thought her too young to understand when the pact of loyalty was made, and yet they were happy to let that alliance rest upon her shoulders. As long as her womb was empty, she would remain a Westerling orphan to the eyes of the court.

“She will never give Aegon a son,” she had heard one of the Tyrells say, “the King should cast her aside, make her a septa and marry the Prince to one of our girls.”

She spent the rest of the day in the gardens, walking for hours until she came to the rose garden. There was a bench, concealed amongst bushes of red, pink and gold flowers, looking out over Blackwater Bay.

Had the small council truly been so startled by the very presence of Princess Rhaenyra in the capital? Even with the rumours surrounding her three eldest sons, her extensive family was a show of strength and stability, something she and Aegon had so far failed to provide.

The sun seemed to go black for a moment and there came a colossal roar that shook the foundations of the city. She looked up to the sky to see Vhagar soaring out over the water. She couldn’t make out much of her rider, save for a small glimmer of silver hair.

An idea came into her head. 

She tucked her knees into her chest and began to gnaw at her lower lip until she tasted blood. She sat there, frozen in thought until the sun began to set and a chilling evening breeze swept in from the sea. Her gown was relatively thin, a day dress for Spring, but she did not shiver and she did not flinch.

As twilight approached, she heard footsteps crunching against the gravel path.

“You’re expected for dinner,” Aemond’s voice came from behind her.

She rose from the bench and came to stand before him, close enough to smell the leather on his jerkin and the faint scent of smoke in his hair.

He frowned and brought his thumb to her bruised and bloodied lip. She watched his eye as he inspected it, gently swiping and tugging. “What’s this?” He asked in a soft and scathing tone.

“It was my own fault,” she muttered, “I didn’t realise I was doing it.”

He pulled back with a dissatisfied “hmm,” but his gaze soon softened. “The Queen was getting rather worried.”

Lucia weaved her arm through his and began to lead him back towards the castle. “We should not keep her waiting then.”

*

Aemond followed Lucia into the dining room and settled in the seat across from her, beside Daeron. Helaena and Martyn Hightower were not present, apparently Rhaella had managed to come down with a cough and they would not leave her side. 

The King had decided to dine with them this night, a rarity. Mostly they sat in silence, the Queen occasionally attempting to make conversation. She asked Aemond how Vhagar had been that morning. He said “very well mother,” and drew his fingers along his knife. She turned to Daeron and asked how his studies were progressing. He said “very well mother,” and went back to eating. 

“Sunfyre is well too, dear mother,” Aegon added sarcastically.

Aemond caught Lucia’s eye as she tried to stifle a small smile.

“Rhaenyra is with child again,” the King said, “I do so desire a granddaughter.”

His mother pursed her lips. “You have a granddaughter, dear husband.”

“And perhaps I desire more.”

Aemond watched Lucia as she toyed with her duck breast, tearing apart the meat but never putting it near her mouth. He had watched her rather closely over the last five years, as her life had become a well rehearsed act, feigning smiles and indifference when she needed to, but he always saw right through her.

When Aegon glanced at her, she kept her gaze down and tightened the grip on her fork. 

“I might ask Helaena to stay a while longer in the capital,” the Queen said, “so we might spend some more time with our grandchild.”

“Do you presume the presence of my sister’s babe will offer us some encouragement?” Aegon sneered.

The table paused. No one dared to breathe, except Aegon, who took a long draw from his cup and finished it with a gasp of satisfaction. He glanced around at the bewildered faces of his family. “Is something the matter?”

Aemond kept his eye fixed on Lucia as she drew her lip between her teeth. Her cheeks glistened in the low candlelight as tears began streaming from her eyes. She stood quickly and calmly, and was out of the room before Alicent could even utter a single word.

The room fell to silence.

Until Aegon decided otherwise. “Do you think I upset her?”

Aemond made a point of hitting his fist against the table as he followed her.

She was in the corridor, standing with her back against the wall and her hands clasped behind her. At the sound of a single footstep her eyes darted to him.

He came to stand before her. Her cheeks and eyelashes were still damp, but she had stopped crying. 

The Queen’s furious shouts began to bleed into the corridor.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

Lucia nodded.

He offered his hand. “I’ll walk you to your chambers.”

She looked up at him with those wide and glistening eyes as she placed her hand in his. His heart ached to feel her skin, their fingers curling over each other, his thumb settling against her knuckles. She felt cold, but he would have been content to stay within her hold, as long as she would allow him to.

She stayed close as he led her through the stillness of the Red Keep, her skirt brushing against his leg with every stride.

Ser Arryk Cargyll waited outside her chambers, and she slipped from his grasp as easily as she had accepted it. She stopped as the guard opened the door though, and turned back to Aemond. “Would you stay with me?” 

Aemond held his breath, hoping neither she or Ser Arryk would somehow notice his heart drumming furiously in his chest.

“Not for long,” she added, “but I wish to speak with you.”

“Of course,” he said, and followed her inside.

The Princess’ chambers were not entirely unfamiliar to him. With Aegon’s elusive nature and Helaena and Daeron’s absences, it only felt natural that he and Lucia often found themselves in each other’s company. She enjoyed the library as much as he did and as she had developed interests in riding on horseback and marksmanship, he was all too happy to entertain her. Her chambers were not a place he visited often, not unless he wished to return a book, or take her on a walk through the gardens before dinner.

The room was immaculate, and it smelled like her, bittersweet and warm.

She stood before the fireplace. The glow of the flames flickered across her face and caught the faint strands of gold in her dark hair.

“Aegon will not give me children,” she said. 

He kept his expression soft. “What makes you think that?”

With every word she spoke, the gentle facade began to fade, the light and shadows of the fire only added to the look of fury on her face. “He knows a lack of an heir undermines his position. He will happily fuck whores and sire bastards but he will not fulfil his duty to me, his wife. He is a coward.”

Gods, she was beautiful when she was furious.

Her lip was still red and swollen. Before he knew it his thumb was against it again, hypnotised by the way her lip moved under his touch. His eye drifted up to hers. “On that much we can agree,” he muttered.

She took a slow step into him, bringing her hand around his wrist, gently pulling him away.

His heart stopped. Perhaps he had overstepped a line.

But she leaned in further, until their noses touched and all he could see was her. He felt her other hand settle against his jaw on his blind side. She leaned in further still, and pressed her lips into his.

He froze for a moment, but as her lips moved over his, he found himself unable to tame his impulse, the impulse that he’d been fighting for little less than five years. He allowed himself to melt into her softness, her warmth, the bittersweetness and the sharp taste of her tongue.

His hand snaked down to her waist, and only when he squeezed her flesh through her gown did he realise what he was doing. 

He knew what he should do. He should leave her, lock himself in his chambers and forget her. Forget her smile, her wit, the way his heart felt brighter when he watched her dance, the way he craved her sparse touches and her eyes finding him across the chaos of a crowded room.

Everything about her was perfect, his brother’s wife.

In his hesitation he retreated slightly. He could hardly think, hardly breathe…

And her voice cut through the fog of doubt in his mind. “You could help me.”

“How so?” 

Keeping her hand on his jaw, she brought the other to trace the highest silver buckle on his jerkin. Her thumb stroked against his cheek, featherlight over his scar.

And suddenly he understood.

He clamped his hand over hers. “It would be treason, Lucia.”

Her eyes were longing, pleading. “No one would need know,” she whispered, “there would be no question of parentage.”

His heart felt heavy. It would be a complete and utter betrayal of his family, not just Aegon, but his mother, his grandsire, and a risk to everything. They’d be no better than Rhaenyra, trying to pass a bastard off as an heir, and yet, there would not be much room for doubt, so long as the child had silver hair.

But suppose he gave in, bent to the will of those pretty eyes and perfect lips, only to stand aside for Aegon to claim what he would never deserve. 

He could feel himself on a knife’s edge, to stop, or to linger and let his desire consume him. He wasn’t sure what scared him more.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” he breathed, but with every moment he felt himself leaning deeper into her touch. 

“Aemond,” she said his name like a spell and brought their foreheads to rest against each other. “There is hardly an aspect of my life which is under my control. If I should have some choice in this matter, then I would choose you.”

“Over him?”

Her breath echoed over his skin as she whispered, “above all else.”

His grip of her waist tightened, noticing the way her breath hitched as he traced his thumb over the fabric of her gown. 

“Aemond,” she whispered, bringing her lips to the corner of his mouth, “I want this, please.”

He caught her lips between his, kissing her with all the want he had spent years trying to suppress. 

His sudden urgency seemed to take her off guard but she met his efforts with just as much fervour, now with both hands cupping his face and fingers teasing over the soft skin of his neck, pulling him in further and further.

Lucia began to groan, falling into him arms and grinding her body against his.

He pulled away and took her hands in his. “Patience, Princess,” he hummed, and led her to stand at the foot of her bed.

Her eyes trailed over his jerkin while she ran her teeth over her lip.

“Turn around,” he ordered and she followed.

Cautiously but effortlessly, he undid the braid keeping her hair from her face. He ran his fingers through it, until he gathered it over her shoulder, exposing her neck to him.

He breathed in the bittersweet warmth as his hands traced over her body, over her torso, along the curves of her waist, the soft pouch of her stomach.

“Tell me,” he whispered, grazing his lips over her cheek, “how does my brother fuck you?”

“He doesn’t,” she uttered, watching his hands as they roamed, “he takes his pleasure in other ways, but never in such a way that would lead to a child.”

It was a dangerous confession to hear. If he wanted her before he was almost ravenous now, starved and fulfilled by every breathless gasp, every little twitch of movement in her body, desperate to feel her, claim her.

He hummed hungrily, and began to drag a hand further down, skimming over the fabric that covered her centre. “And would you like to be fucked, Princess?” 

She nodded.

“I said–” he pressed his hand firmly between her legs– “would you like to be fucked?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, writhing and leaning against him at the friction, “please, I want you to fuck me.”

He smiled into her. How could he ever deny her when she asked so nicely?

His fingers traced over the laces of her bodice before he began to pull them apart, agonisingly slowly, but he relished the anticipation and the little hitches in her breath. Once it was off, he moved to the clasps and drawstrings of her skirt, letting it pool around her ankles.

He offered a hand so she could step out and went to lay her clothing over a chaise. When he turned back to her she had removed her shoes and stockings, left only in a corset and a linen shift. 

He allowed his eye to rake shamelessly over her. He had never seen her in such a simple state, without the ornate gowns or the jewellery, her hair loose and tousled about her shoulders, the bare skin of her arms as she held her hands behind her back, her teeth running over her lip– a nervous habit, he realised, one that had somehow managed to evade his notice after all this time. He was the same with his hands.

He came closer and drew his fingers through the laces of the corset, while her eyes looked up to him. He made no protest as she reached up to slide off his eyepatch. 

She looked between his violet eye and the sapphire, and smiled dreamily. “My beautiful Aemond.”

His heart was shattered and welded back together. Hers. 

He watched her as she began to undo his belt and the buckles on his jerkin. Once it was off he pulled his undershirt over his head, leaving his chest bare. She traced her fingertips from his collar, over the hair of his sternum, the lines of his abs, until she let her fingers snag at the waist of his breeches–

He grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her to lie down against the mattress. “All in good time,” he promised with a glimmer of a smile. He released his hold of her wrists. “Keep your hands where they are.”

He dragged his hands down over her scarcely covered body, to gather the hem of her shift and bring it past her waist. He almost growled at the dampness of her small clothes, and pulled them from her legs, uncaring of where they fell. He gripped her thighs, prising her legs apart to reveal her glistening cunt to him.

He brought his thumb through her folds in slow, upward strokes, swiping over her bud just enough to make her squirm before he withdrew again.

“We can’t be too loud,” he whispered, “can you keep quiet for me?”

She hummed impatiently. “Yes, Aemond but oh–”

Her voice faded into a sweet moan as he licked through her. He liked the teasing, dragging his tongue to her entrance and savouring her taste before he moved up, flicking over her clit until her hips were moving against him. He pressed a wide palm over her stomach to keep her in place while he brought all of his attention to where she needed him most.

When he slipped a finger into her she groaned, pressing and biting at her lips to keep herself quiet, but her breath betrayed her pleasure, haggard and heavy. 

He could already feel how tight she was, stroking slowly against her tender flesh while his tongue circled over her pearl. And through it she kept her hands in place, just as he had asked.

The hardness in his breeches was starting to strain now. He couldn’t wait to feel her around his cock, soft, wet and warm.

Her hips started to buck again and her cunt twitched around his finger.

“Are you going to come for me, Princess?” He muttered against her.

Her voice was breathless and hazy. “Yes… I want to, please… please…”

“Not too loud,” he muttered, pushing a second finger into her, “you don’t want your husband to find out, do you?” 

She clasped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head as he pushed her further and further towards her high, until her body tensed at her release. He stifled his own moan against her flesh as she clenched around him.

She was utterly breathless, sprawled before him, drenched and dripping onto the mattress. He thought he could have kept her like this for hours, drawing orgasm after orgasm from her, savouring the sound and the taste of her pleasure.

But he had already stayed long enough, and he had no intentions of giving the guard something to be suspicious of, especially not when his family had seen him chase after her from the dining room.

Another time, he promised himself. For now he knew what she needed.

He finally rid himself of his boots and his breeches, freeing his hard and weeping cock. With her wetness still on his fingers he began to stroke over himself.

She watched him with wide eyes and parted lips, coming to sit up with her palms behind her.

Suddenly he stopped. “We don’t have to,” he said quietly, “are you sure this is what you want–”

Lucia came to her knees before him, silencing him with a soft and gentle kiss to his lips. Her hand brushed down his front to replace his hand around his cock, sending white hot shocks of pleasure rippling through his body.

“I want you, Aemond.”

His restraint snapped. He tugged her shift up over her head and then his hands were everywhere, gripping at her breasts, her hips, her rear, while she continued to tug at his cock.

Somewhere in the mess of hunger and lust his mouth moved along her jaw, teeth, tongue and lips grazing over her skin. “Lie down.”

Lucia stared back at him, resting her hands against his chest.

“I said, lie down.”

The darkness of his voice had her shuffling back until her head fell against the pillows. 

He came to kneel on the mattress and hovered over her, his silver hair falling around her face and brushing against her breasts. Finally he lifted one of her legs and hooked it around her waist, lining his tip against her entrance. “I’ll be gentle,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

With that he began to press into her. He immediately felt how resistant she was to him, even with her slick, but inch by inch, he buried himself into her.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, “so tight for me, my sweet girl.”

Her back arched against the mattress as her eyes fluttered close and her face began to twist.

“Tell me how it feels,” he said, his voice rough as he fought the urge to fuck her quickly, thoroughly. She’d suffered enough these last years married to his cretin of a brother, he wanted to be the end of it, he wanted her to feel safe and adored, as she should have always been.

She brought her arms around his neck and her other leg around his waist. “Deep,” she whined, “so deep… so good…”

“Open your eyes," he pleaded, "let me look at you."

She pulled her face from his neck and opened her eyes, those perfect eyes, as deep, dark and endless as the night sky, glazed slightly with tears of bliss.

He could feel her easing into his size now, and he was getting restless, still gentle, but pushing in and out at a heightening pace.

He’d been wondering what she might be like longer than he cared to admit, dreaming of having her skin against his, his name on her lips, clawing at the memory of her when he entertained his carnal desires with his cock in his hand. And now, holding her, fucking her, having her beneath him and begging for her pleasure was beyond what he could have ever imagined. He felt euphoria with every thrust in her, so tight, so perfect, so willing. 

While one of her hands gripped the side of the pillow she lay against, he guided the other down between them. “Stroke that pretty clit for me,” he said, “I want to see you cum again.”

Her voice was a slur of moans and curses. “Please, Aemond, please.”

“I’ll give you what you need,” he hummed, “my perfect girl, I’ll always give you what you need.”

She came with a pleading cry, milking him of his own release. He kept thrusting until he had spilled himself completely inside her, biting down on her shoulder to muffle the sound of his pleasure.

He pulled away to watch his seed drip from her twitching cunt before he dove in with his tongue again, pushing it back into her.

He felt her fingers in his hair and glanced back to her dazed expression. They stayed there for a moment, gazing once again into the eyes they each craved. 

Until he crawled up the bed to lay beside her, pulling her into him, bodies intertwined under the bedsheets.

She traced a finger over his scar. She had never known him without it, never known the weak, naive child he was before Driftmark. “I used to be terrified of you,” she said.

He hummed a small laugh. “You hardly spoke to me for almost a year.”

“I always thought you were formidable, always absorbed in your studies or your training. That and the eyepatch.”

“It is better than what lies underneath.”

Her fingers came down to his cheek, turning him to face her. “No, I think I prefer you like this.”

He held her a little tighter. He knew he’d have to pull away, eventually, but for now he was content to have her in his arms, the girl who hadn’t cowered when he had finally shown her his scar. The girl with wide brown eyes, who looked upon him as he was, broken, marred, damaged, and had managed to find beauty.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond “pussy eater” targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #my fics

[shawty-writes-a-little]

Requests (Open)

Hey hello hi

So my requests are open for now and I wanted to make an organised chart thingy idk what to call it anyways

Fandoms I write for :

Shadow and bone

General Kirigan (I almost only write him but I’m open to ALL of the characters)

All of the crows -id even write platonically

Alina starkov

Mal oretzev

Hannibal

Will Graham

Hannibal lecter

Alana bloom

Bledelia

Beverly Katz

Freddie lounds

Marvel

Loki

President Loki

Peter Parker

Bucky Barnes

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

Yelena bellova

Vision

Tony stark (platonically)

Thor

Carol Danvers

Steve Rogers

Eternals

Ikaris

Thena

Druig

Makkari

Sersie

Dane whiteman

Kingo

Sherlock

Sherlock Holmes

John Watson

Jim moriarty

Xmen

Charles Xavier

Erik lensherr

Logan howlett

Jean grey

Hank Mccoy

Peitro maximoff

Raven

Game of thrones

Robb stark

Jon snow

Margery tyrell

Sansa stark

Jaime Lannister

Danerys targareyn

Tyrion Lannister

Theon Greyjoy

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer Reid

Aaron hotchner

Derek Morgan

Emily prentiss

Penelope Gracia

Jennifer Jareau

TVD/TO

Klaus Mikaelson

Elijah mikaelson

Rebekah mikaelson

Hayley Marshall

Caroline Forbes

Damon Salvatore

Steffan Salvatore

Enzo

Bonnie Bennett

Alaric

Kai parker

House of the dragon

Ser criston cole

Alicent Hightower

Rahaenyra Targeryn

Daemon targeryn

Sandman

Morpheus

Corinthian

Lucifer

Batman 2022

battinson

Moon knight

Steven

Marc

Harrow

Layla

Prompts

What I won’t write:

Rape/non con

Incest

Pedophilia

Homophobic and racist in any way

Dark smut

Sexual assault

Weird kinks

#robb stark x reader #jon snow x reader #jaime lannister x reader #loki x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #charles xavier x reader #erik lensherr x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky x female reader #damon salvatore x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #kai parker x reader #harry styles x reader #neil tenet x reader #andrew scott #general kirigan x reader

[zephyrrr101]

Let me help you

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x sister reader

Warning: Targcest/incest (that's the hype about Hotd loves), fingering, consensual everything basically, dirty talking, all the ASOIAF warnings, slight Dom Daemon, MINORS DNI.

Lots of thanks to @officialaemondtargaryen for being my beta for this one. Love you lots hon.

The day had been very tiring. You had lesson with your Septa continuously. And the woman had seemed to swore that she would not leave you alone until you have finished sewing your house sigil into the tapestry you were supposed to do for your grandsire, King Jaehaeyrs', soon approaching name day.

Your feet felt frozen with the long sitting, so did your back. Your hands ached before but now everything felt numb. Shaking them, as you tried to remove the numb feeling that seemed to have spread up to your elbows. You couldn't help but curse her as you got into your chamber after asking your sworn sheild for your maids to be called.

"Tried?"

A shriek left your mouth and you turned around to see your older brother, Daemon lazily lying on your bed with an amused smile.

"Fuck you, Daemon!" You sighed, leaning over the now closed door with your hand over your chest that reached there out of fright. You loved your brothers, you did, but Daemon was just as much of little shit as much he was charmer.

"Well, if you insist..." He drawled and you grabbed the closest thing to you and threw it at him, very obviously not hitting the target as the very expensive brass vase had landed on your pillow a good one hand away from your brother's head. Did you care? No.

"I'm already tired, Dae. And annoyed. So if you're here to rile me up, I suggest get the fuck out," You moved around the room, making your way over to other side of bed and laying down on your stomach very ungracefully, pushing the vase down on floor.

You think Daemon understood that you were quite serious. Well, he better have or else you were going to hit him perfectly on his perfect annoying face.

You felt his hand caressing your hair, the hair of same color that you shared with him. It brought you comfort as his fingers moved from the crown of your head to base, his fingers, just the right pressure, oh your brother could also be just as sweet as infuriating he was when you needed him to be.

"What happened?" He whispered and he turned you over and laid beside you. Now you were facing him, you could see a frown on his beautiful face. Along with your hair, you shared your nose with him, longer than that of Viserys'. And your cheekbones too. The same cheekbones that he was now caressing.

"My Septa had me doing needlework all day." You told. Daemon snorted at it and he received a poke in ribs for that whe you continued your complaining. "Do not laugh. My hands are numb from working on that tapestry. My legs and back feel just as useless."

"Is my haedar so much in pain?" He mused, sporting a smirk, but his words were genuine. You knew. Always.

Daemon was a mystery to most. You had seen girls gush at him, your maids-in-waiting were just mad about him. When you looked at him you saw nothing but your brother. A brother you loved and hated? No. No. You didn't hate him. He was more of like... A leech? Yes, a leech you did everything to squeeze the life out of you. But he did you just as much. Maybe more than anyone did. Just you did.

Daemon sat up leading you to frown at his action. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he smiled at you and shifted over to the end of the bed, taking your feet in his hands. "Let me help you." His slightly calloused hands pressed into your tender flesh, rubbing and squeezing and your eyes closed at the relief you felt as you let out pleased sighs. His hands moved up first to your ankles, rolling them as easily he could, then to calves, massaging your muscles tenderly, then around the knees and then above them with soft circular motions and then—

"Daemon," one of your eyes opened as your look at him sternly.

Daemon grinned, nothing just concern seemed to be there anymore. His fingers now made there way up to your inner thighs, his movements alternating between hard and soft and with each movement he seemed to move more closer to the apex of your legs.

"What are you doing, lekia?" You retorted, knowing where it was leading to.

"Being a good brother and helping my sister relax, of course," he leaned down, slowly coming up, and hovered over you, his face just above yours, you could easily smell Caraxes on him along with the leather vest that he wore most of the time and the sweet fragrance of Arbor Gold that was both of yours favourite.

"We can't, Daemon. Not now. I've called my maids." You tried to push him off you. As much as you loved Daemon doing all the other worldly things to you, getting caught was not something you could afford. Daemon did not budge. He simply dipped down, his lips meeting yours and you easily melted into him.

"Send them away. Who cares?" It wasn't that hard for you to be convinced when he was making such good effort.

One of your hands pulled at the hair, pulling him more into you as the other found it's way inside Daemon's tunic as you traced his skin. You loved the way his body felt on your skin. Each muscle strong, you could even trace some small scars that he received while training or in duels. Everything that made your brother beautiful.

His mouth left wet kisses down your jaw, his teeth nipping at soft skin of your neck and you gasp when he sucked on your skin. He was going to leave a mark. He was doing it deliberately. This bastard! You could feel your small cloth getting wet. Oh, he did it again. Biting that spot on your neck. You loved it when he did it.

Your hands moved down his chest, you caress every inch of his you could with the tunic that still was attached to him and moved down and down and down, reaching the lace of his breeches.

Daemon grabbed your hands, and pulled them up, keeping them prisoner above your head. "Daemon, what—"

"Hush, sweet sister," he spoke, and left a kiss on your lips. "Let me take care of you." He unlaced the top of your dress, the sleeves coming down swiftly and he suckled on the tits softly. His fingers found their way to your small cloth, unlacing the barrier that was between him and the sweet nether. "My, did I do that you, haedar?"

"Daemon," you gasp, his fingers moving through your lower lips, his thumb ghosting over you pearl, a shriek followed the gasp when you felt him flicking on it. "Fuck,"

His chuckle echoed in the otherwise silent room where just your breaths could be heard. He bent and you felt it, his tongue slowly moving along the rises and lows of your cunt. He nibbled at the skin around your clit, sucking it and you moan.

His fingers caresses you and he slowly entered one digit inside you making you gasp.

Daemon rose, his fingers still in you, you could see your arousal coating his lips, his pink lips that shined under the candle light around your room. "I haven't even started and you're clenching like that?"

You moan out his name as he moves his fingers inside you, going back to sucking your pearl, lapping on your arousal. "Hmm, haedar, you taste like nectar of gods." He spoke while licking your juices and he added another finger inside you. Grabbing the sheets around you bit your lip to not make too much of a louder noise. Your sworn shield stood outside. If he heard anything, you would be sent to silent sister's just like your aunt Saera and you were sure that you won't be able to run away like her.

You undid the laces in thr front of your dress, loosening it around your chest, your mounds slipping out and you caress the skin, circling your fingers on your pebbles, pulling them and a moan left your mouth at the pleasure flooding through you from them and Daemon's fingers in you.

Daemon looked up and scowled at the sight of your fingers on your nipples. He smacked your hand with his other one, his fingers in you pausing and tugged at your pink tit.

You squealed in pain and glared at Daemon as he pulled back his fingers before adding another one. "Don't touch yourself," He gave you a stern look. "Good princess don't do such things. They let their elder brother take care of them."

You moaned as he thrusted his fingers inside you deeper, you could feel his rings in you, he was so deep. The other hand now playing with your mounds pulling, pinching caressing. "That feels good? Hmm? You are clenching on my fingers, sweet girl."

"Please, Daemon," You moaned, your hands finding his shoulders and you grabbed it hard, Daemon felt your nails biting his skin, his breeches becoming tighter with each moment. "Need you, Daemon."

"Need me? How so?" He grinned and he curled his fingers inside you, before pulling them back and pushing in again this time deeper and then again more deeper as if trying to find how far he could go just with his hand.

"Your mouth." You suck in a deep breath, "on me,"

"On you? Where? There's a lot a of places on you."

You would have thrown something at him again if he hadn't pressed his thumb on your clit making you almost scream. "My cunt! My cunt, damn it Daemon! Just fucking—"

You covered your mouth as soon as you could. You hadn't even been able to see when Daemon hand went back to sucking your pearl and lips. Your abdomen clenched, you were near your peak. And Daemon apparently knew that too since he had increased his pace.

"Princess!" Your maid's voice sounded muffled through the closed door. Or maybe it was the haze you were in. "Princess, we've come with your bath water,"

You glanced at Daemon between your legs and found him looking up at you with a devilish look in his eyes while he sucked and lapped on you like a hound who hadn't been fed in days and you felt yourself clench. Oh that infuriating bastard was enjoying it.

"Princess?" You maid called out again, her voice now sounding concerned.

"A minute!" You yelled and gasped. You couldn't see what Daemon was doing, but it felt like a blessing from Gods.

Your head was thrown back in your pillow and you felt your eyes rolling back as you reached your peak, your hand on your mouth, muffling all the moans it could as you came down from your high.

Daemon rose, still sitting between your legs, both you panting heavily. His lips glistening with your juices, he was grinning. And so were you. Daemon moved, coming to hover over you, he dropped and your lips met his, you tasted yourself on him and after a moment he pulled away, a fond look in his lilac eyes.

"What about you?" You asked, pointing at his cock, straining inside his breeches. You were tempted to loosen the laces and take him, but you knew that time was not on your side.

"I'll handle it. Maybe I'll visit Silk Street," he shrugged.

You sat up on your bed as he got off the bed, you glanced between him and the door where your maids stood outside, "Where are you going to hide?"

Daemon gave you a confused look, "Why must I hide? I am going to my room." You were even more confused as he started to walk behind your bed.

"Daemon the maids outside—" Him pushing a part of wall behind you had you stop talking. Well, it actually moving had you shut up. "What in the seven hell? Daemon?"

Your brother smirked at you as he entered what you now understood were the secret tunnels Maegor had built in the Keep. He had known about them. That fucker!

"You little cunt! Fucking—"

"Good bye, sister. Enjoy your bath. Your maids' are waiting." And he quicked his way inside the tunnel, closing the part of wall leaving the room as he wasn't even here.

Damn, your brother. You loved him so much.

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #targ reader #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #sister reader #daemon targareyn smut