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lady-phasma · 27 days

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In the fading light

Daemon Targaryen x fem Dornish!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, but I was going for soft!Daemon so I don't think there are that many warnings this time.

Summary: Daemon comes to visit you at Godsgrace, the seat of House Allyrion, in Dorne. Kind of an AU in the sense that Rhaenyra isn't the object of his love, nor his motivation for "ending his marriage" to Rhea. 2.6k words

From the request here - romantic Daemon inspired by the song "kalam eineh" (Words of his eyes) by Sherine. I was able to work in a few lyrics as well ("the one whose eyes the moon envied" and "get lost in his beauty").

a/n: Dorne is a very big place and all of the houses are as different as the Northern houses. So as I write more Dornish!reader fics I start to see them uniquely in my headcanon. Godgrace is on a river from what my research tells me, so I think it worked out perfectly that Sherine is Egyptian. I've dropped some Egyptian elements into Godsgrace and that's how it is in my head now. (If there was a face claim for a location think Thebes/Luxor landscape.)

A warm breeze wafted onto the balcony where you and Daemon sat. The sun sank low against the horizon. The river in the distance shone with golds and pinks. A falcon screeched nearby. You turned from the gorgeous view of the Godsgrace river oasis to look at your Prince. He sat, reclined, opposite you. You slid your toes up the inside of his leg, teasing him. He stroked the top of your foot, your ankle, up your shin. Your smooth skin reflected the light of the setting sun much as the river did. Daemon slipped his fingertips under the hem of your thin skirt. The contrast of his pale hand under the bronze fabric was delightful to you. This Northern prince, so accustomed to clouds and darkness. Such a dreary land he came from.

You watched him as he looked out over the Greenblood river. It would be so easy to get lost in his beauty. His hair, his eyes, his mouth, everything about him was entrancing to you. You glanced back out at the river, the people going about their evening paying no attention to the lords and ladies so high above them. Birds circled above fishing boats as the nets were pulled in. Lights began to flicker in windows across the city. You smelled roasted meat and fresh baked bread on the warm air. You would have to dress for the evening meal, if you didn’t request it in your quarters.

“Did you come only because the fool Prince Martell forbade it?” You were genuinely curious. “Or because of your brother?”

“You know that is not the reason,” he spoke softly and continued to stroke your leg. “Their approval means less to me than you think.”

“You risk much coming to Godsgrace.” You wiggled your toes against his thigh.

“It is a fair price,” Daemon replied.

“Surely you are quite rested now, my love,” you goaded. “It is a long journey up the Greenblood, but not so tiring that you would ignore me.” You flashed your eyes at him. They were nearly the color of burnt umber in the fading light. Soon your maids would light torches and candles in your chambers. You would hear them through the diaphanous curtains that hung in the entry of the balcony. Though they would never dare to disturb you, even if you had your Targaryen on the floor in front of them.

Daemon turned his violet eyes toward you, finally pulled from his thoughts. Gods, you thought, even the moon could envy those eyes! The last pink of the sunset caught on his silver hair as it swung freely about his face, tendrils caught in the breeze.

“Quite rested,” he smirked as he spoke. He slipped his hand behind your knee and, reaching forward, grabbed your other leg and pulled you, bodily, to him. Your chair legs screeched against the stone floor as you threw your head back and laughed. When he had you where he wanted you, he smoothed his palms up the inside of your thighs. You rested your bare feet on the seat of his chair on either side of his legs. He pushed your skirt all the way up to your waist as he stared into your eyes. His thumbs grazed the creases of your thighs and you sighed.

“The journey was too long, but certain hindrances are now resolved,” his voice was low and quiet. “I am no longer married.”

You raised an eyebrow at these words. You trailed your fingertips down one of his forearms.

“I hope that it was painless, my prince,” you both knew the mocking of his title was not malicious. He was not your prince and you enjoyed reminding him of that. “You know, you could have stayed in Godsgrace and I could have sent one of my women to dispatch the issue quickly.” Your grin was knowing, yet seductive. Daemon’s response to Northern morality was curious to you. He didn’t want his wife, but could not bring himself to have another while she lived.

“I did not say I did the deed,” he tried not to smile. “Only that it was resolved.” Oh, he was deliciously vile when it suited him. You chuckled at this.

“Well, I had no trouble with the situation,” you grazed his thigh with one foot. “I needed only your devotion, not your marriage.”

“That you will always have, my lady,” he replied as he sank to his knees in front of you. You moved your foot to his shoulder, the other still in his chair, as you languidly spread your legs to make room for him. He looked up at you again, catching your eyes with his as he kissed your thigh, then your belly. You stroked one hand over his silky head as he lowered it and kissed the dark hair between your legs. You heard him inhale, smelling you, and you became even wetter.

Daemon licked the full length of your slit and paused at your pearl. He circled it with the tip of his tongue and you gripped the arms of your chair. He slid an arm around one thigh to steady you. Then he grazed a finger through your folds, finding your entrance quickly, as if he knew your geography by heart. He teased and didn’t slide inside you yet. He used two fingers to circle your opening, almost matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. Your hips rocked. You tried, and failed, to get his fingers inside. He stilled you as much as he could and continued for a moment that felt like an eternity.

When he finally slipped his fingers into your wet heat he sucked on your clit and your hands flew to the back of his head. You moaned and pushed against his mouth. You thought you felt him chuckle. You didn’t care. You ground your hips on his mouth and fingers.

“Daemon,” you whispered, as that was as loud as you could manage. “That’s it, just there. Please.”

He rubbed his fingertips against the spot that drove you wild, fighting against your clenching muscles. His tongue resumed its circling movements, but with a slightly quicker pace. Your breathing was becoming shallow and the sounds you made came deep from your chest. He pumped his fingers harder into you, knowing the pressure you needed to reach your climax. Your toes curled on his shoulder. You let go of his head, gripped the arms of your chair again, and your body curled forward as your climax overwhelmed you. You yelled his name, moaned incoherently, and then laughed. He hadn’t stopped, tongue still lapping causing your thighs to twitch. You playfully pushed at his forehead to give you peace.

You leaned forward and cupped his face in your hands. His expression wasn’t playful, as yours was. The look was full of something akin to admiration. You kissed him, roughly. You licked yourself from his lips, his tongue, and moaned into his mouth. He reached up and tangled his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, letting some of it loose from the pins that held it in place. Without much grace, he blindly began to release your hair from its confines.

Daemon broke your kiss and began to stand up. You let your fingers trail down his body as he did. You grazed your fingers over his pants, deliberately avoiding the hardness straining the fabric. He pulled pins and a comb from your hair, tossing them on the floor with abandon. You looked up at him, a playfully displeased look on your face for the carelessness he showed for your jewelry, and shook out your hair. It fell in near-black waves down your shoulders and back.

“I need you,” Daemon breathed. His eyes were dark with lust. Still looking up at him from your chair, you pressed your palm over his erection. His eyes nearly closed. His chest rose and fell, trying to maintain his composure. You pressed just a little harder. He grabbed your wrists. It didn’t hurt but made it evident that he couldn’t be teased this evening. You stood, your wrists still in his hands. You raised to tiptoes and pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth. Your eyes narrowed in defiance against being so restrained.

“That’s enough!” He threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and laughed, kicking your feet and pounding your fists lightly against his back. Your laughter bounced off the stone walls as he carried you through the curtains into your chambers. You pushed against him, raising your head to look at the two startled maids, and laughed harder.

“Let me go!” You giggled and kicked your feet but he only held your ankles as he walked you to the bed. You heard the two girls scamper from the room, giggling and twittering.

Daemon dropped you lightly on the bed. You were breathless from laughing. He smiled down at you, but that look was back. What had changed since he had gone North? Your laughter faded into giggles, which in turn faded into quick breaths as he knelt on the bed and kissed his way up your feet, calves, and thighs. He began to unfasten the ties of your skirt at your waist and you helped him with the small buttons of your delicate top.

He licked and kissed the curves of your exposed belly. He nuzzled his nose between your breasts, then kissed each of your nipples. You played with his silky hair, enjoying watching him worship you. When he reached your neck and jaw you began tugging on his shirt, pulling it toward his shoulders. He straightened long enough pull it over his head, then bent down to your mouth again. You kissed him back, hands gripping his neck, stroking his shoulders, down his biceps.

Daemon moved with you, still kissing, as you began to sit up. You gently pressed his shoulders back and guided him to lay down. You straddled his thighs and began pulling at the laces of his pants. He groaned at the pressure of your fingers. You stroked his freed cock, watching your hands move slowly. You enjoyed making him wait but you couldn’t wait any longer. You released him and begin to remove his breeches. Once you had both struggled with that for a moment, you trying not to giggle during the endeavor, you climbed up him and placed yourself on his belly. You could feel his cock pressing against your buttocks. You leaned forward and kissed him and he cupped both of your breasts in his hands.

You lifted your hips enough to reach between you and guide him into your wetness. He growled and squeezed your breasts a bit harder. Slowly, you took him inside you. You raised up, allowing him to keep his hands on you, and pressed your hands against his stomach as you rocked your hips. You took his cock as deep as you could. Gradually, at first, then setting a gentle pace that brought sweet sounds from Daemon’s lips. You leaned forward slightly, finding the angle you needed. He moved his hands, one to your neck, one to your hip. As you settled on a rhythm, he began to match you, thrusting upward slightly each time you rocked back on his cock.

You let your head fall forward, you hair sweeping forward, framing your face and his. Your fingers curled against his chest. You kept this pace as long as you could before your cunt began to ache with the beginnings of your climax. You slowed and Daemon took over. Gripping both of your hips, he fucked up into you, harder than you had been able to manage. His grunts made you squeeze around his cock. They were wonderful sounds that only increased your need for him.

You rested your face against his, pressing your cheeks together. Neither of you could stay quiet. Your name fell from his lips as fluidly as the curses he uttered. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you down onto each of his upward thrusts. The sound of flesh against flesh, lewd and satisfying. Your bodies glistened with sweat in the torch light. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him but the pleasure was too great.

“Yes, please, Daemon,” you whined in his ear. Your lips drug across his cheek as you searched for his mouth. You tried to kiss him. Instead you panted and moaned against his mouth. As your climax began the wave that would drown you, you heard his voice, much calmer than yours could have been in that moment.

“Look at me.” You did. He didn’t stop fucking you, but he held your gaze with those perfect eyes. “I love you. I would kill for you. I would kill anyone who kept us apart.”

Something in his eyes, not just his words, was your undoing. Your climax spread over you at the same time as it curled up inside you. You squeezed your thighs against his hips, almost stopping his movements entirely. You bent to him and kissed him, moaning and sighing, as you came.

Suddenly Daemon’s large arms encircled you and in your delirium you could hardly notice that he was moving you. You clung to his shoulders as he somehow, and gracefully, managed to lay you on your back. He had not pulled out. You wrapped your legs around his hips and ran your hands into his hair.

Daemon fucked you without restraint. You were coming down from your climax but your cunt gripped him tight and he grunted with each deep thrust. He shifted his weight to one hand and deftly scooped one of your legs into the crook of his arm. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him. He was watching you.

“Touch yourself,” he panted. “Come on my cock again.” His smile was enough to convince you, if his words hadn’t been.

So you did. You rubbed your fingers quickly, and in time with his strokes. When you were close again, you arched under him, head thrown back, Daemon’s mouth on your exposed neck. Then he pressed his hips against you as hard as he could. His cock buried completely inside you as he came. Your cunt spasmed around him and you both felt his seed fill you as your climax peaked. He cursed and tried to gently lower your leg. Your body shook and you were unable to help him. He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

As he slowly pulled out and away from you, you mewled and groaned, closing your thighs and squeezing them together. Daemon lowered himself down next to you, on his side. He rested his head on your chest. You smoothed his hair away from his forehead in a long stroke down to his back and sighed. You let your hand rest on his shoulder. He held you close to him.

The cool night breeze wicked the sweat off your skin. The torches guttered slightly. You wrapped one leg over Daemon’s. You wanted every part of your body touching his. You breathed in his smell mixed with your own and the dusty sweetness of Godsgrace coming in through the curtains.

“No one will come between us,” Daemon whispered against you.

“I know, my love, my dragon” you replied, lips brushing against the top of his head.

The sun had set and, perhaps, the dark was what he needed. In the light of day The Rogue Prince was rakish and disreputable. But at night, with you, he could shed that facade.

Masterlist

Tags: @black-dread

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autisticgayplushie · 1 year

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Clover Plushie, based on the character from The Owl House :3

#the owl house #original plushie designs #I forgot if I shared the upcoming palisman plushies or not! help I'm so forgetful! um #preorders open today in just a few hours :D #loooooove the little wings and fluffy body . and the tiny legs. clover is such peak character design

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purrrrrgatorio · 5 months

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Baby, It's Cold Outside

#cat #animals #funny #cats of tumblr #kitty #caturday #cute #cats #catblr #house cat #cute cats #kitty cat #lol #meme #funny cats #fluffy cat #christmas #romantic #snow #christmas cat

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lovl3igh · 5 days

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find the difference

#my sister said “the fluffy pink thing looks scarier” she's so real 😭#how ewan plays aemond so well is beyond me #he's literally baby monk coded #house of the dragon #hotd #targaryen #hotd season 2 #ewan mitchell #hotd cast #aemond targaryen

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domoniki-11-11 · 2 months

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Legoshi, applying fur to the bed.

I love that his eyes are almost the same color as his fur.

#rabbit #bunny #animals #legoshi #mick #pets #rabbits #companions #buns #bun #bunnies #cute #fluffy #black #grey #bed #house rabbit #free roam

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probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

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🎆🎉😭😭😭😭😭🎉🎆

#huntlow #toh spoilers #the owl house #romance #my god the colours become beyond amazing towards the end #anyway the feels are only hitting me now. I want to punch a wall because it's so fluffy here

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slashv1xen · 1 month

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dating bo sinclair head cannons - fluff

these are only SFW, i don’t write NSFW sorry 💗

he is DEFINITELY a show off, he will do anything to hear praise (he also definitely has mommy issues). and when he does? oh boy he’ll do either 1 of 2 things:

he smirks and says some teasing line, but the tips of his ears would be red and he would be thinking about that little praise CONSTANTLY (though he’ll never admit that)

if he’s in an emotional/vulnerable state (ex. he’s having a breakdown and you soothe him) he’ll probably either start crying or cry harder. (this is due to the awful treatment his mother gave him, plz give him the love he deserves)

his type is either an extremely feminine bimbo OR someone who is grunge/alt (if you’re grunge/alt, the two of you will listen to old rock/metal CD’s)

following off the last one, bo would definitely listen to nine inch nails/deftones/type o negative, that kinda music. and if you like that type of music he would take the CD’s from his victims so the two of you could listen to them together

on the other end of the spectrum, if you were a bimbo he would teasingly make fun of your naivety and stupidity (only him, we all know what happens if someone else made fun of you, especially if they were passerbys in the town)

he would stare at you with a soft smile on his face as he admired you getting ready (brushing your hair, putting on makeup, brushing teeth etc).

he is traditional and old-fashioned, he expects you to take on housewife duties while he works kills

as often he’s portrayed as “constantly grumpy and cruel” (which isn’t much of a shocker) i think that he has a soft side (possibly the softest of the sinclair brothers), although he has an extremely strong exterior (he’s also the definition of toxic masculinity, thanks trudy) so it is very difficult to see the softer side of him

he loves cats and you can’t tell me otherwise (ex. if you asked him for a pet cat he would say something like “there’s enough things to take of ‘n this house ‘nd you want a damn cat?” but he would return from work luring victims with a small kitten (probably a ragdoll or a york chocolate) and a small grin on his face)

he’s HEAVY on pet names, such as darlin’, baby, sweetheart, etc.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #fem!reader #house of wax (2005)#house of wax #fan fiction #headcannons #sfw #fluffy #slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you

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mothdoly · 1 year

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local king visits the north, is miserable

#rip aegon ii you would've hated the north #not canon obv #but hc that he'd absolutely hates the cold #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanart #(I just wanted to draw him with a fluffy coat looking angry)

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timetravelingpenguin1066 · 11 months

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Drop it!

Your daughter sometimes couldn't tell the difference between what is food and what is not food.

Dad!Aemond x fem!reader

A/N: More dad Aemond shenanigans because it's too cute and I can't help myself anymore.

She had been so peaceful as a baby. Hardly ever cried, always wanted to be cuddled, always giggling and gurgling.

Now she was two.

The terrible twos were no myth.

You had laughed it off when Alicent said if she was good as a babe, she be hell when she turned two.

You should have known better.

She had learnt to walk. And walk she did. You turned your back on her for barely a moment and she was already on the other side of the castle. She had learned the word ‘no,’ and certainly enjoyed using it. Bathtime? No. Bedtime? No. Vegetables? No. Savory food of any kind? No.

Aemond, for his part, loved his daughter to bits, and would happily indulge her every need. Cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner? One big yes.

You sat him down eventually, tired of a constantly hyperactive child, and made things plain.

“Aemond, I love watching you with our daughter. I love how you love her, but please, you can’t keep letting her get away with things.”

Aemond nodded, understanding. “You are right, my love. I have indulged her too much.”

From that moment on, Aemond changed tack.

It started with: “Kepa,” she said and pointed at the vegetables on her plate. “No.”

Aemond sighed smiling. For a horrible moment, you thought he would bring out dessert.

“My little dragon,” he began, “I’m sorry. You must eat them this time and have cake later.”

“No.”

“Little dragon, please?” he begged. “For kepa?”

“NO!”

She threw her spoon at him.

“Now, little one, we do not throw cutlery at people.”

“NO!”

You sighed, putting you head in your hands. This was going well(!)

“Come now,” he said, spooning up the vegetables with his own spoon. “Open up for the flying dragon.”

To you complete disbelief, Lyra giggled. Aemond made dragon noise as the spoon came closer and closer to her mouth. And she ate it!

Finally!

Or not so finally. From then on she ate everything it sight. You or Aemond were forever telling her not to put something in her mouth.

One day, she somehow managed to get her little hands on Aemond’s favourite dagger. You were at tea with your ladies when you saw your tiny daughter with a large dagger in her hands.

“Lyra! No!” you yelled, jumping up from your seat.

And she looked at you with cheekiest grin, opened her mouth and slowly started to put the hilt of the dagger in her mouth.

“No, Lyra! Drop it!”

She giggled.

“Lyra! No! Don’t put it in your mouth. Kepa’s dagger is not a toy.”

She tried to put it further in her mouth, but just at that moment, Aemond swooped in, wrenching the dagger from her hands and picking her up in his arms.

“Lyra!” he fumed. “Don’t ever do that again!”

You daughter stopped giggling, but instead looked somewhat afraid.

Aemond saw this and sighed. “Lyra,” he said, putting her down gently. “Kepa’s dagger is not to be played with. It is not a toy. It is sharp and dangerous. The only things that should be going in your mouth are food and drink. Nothing else. Do you understand me, Lyra?”

Lyra nodded, although you weren’t completely sure she had understood.

“Now, if muna agrees, perhaps I can take you for a ride on Vhagar.”

At those words, Lyra started bouncing excitedly. She only been on Vhagar with her father once before, and when she wasn’t busy eating something she wasn’t supposed to, she was cradling her dragon egg, talking to the dragon inside (or at least, you thought she was. She still babbled in a language only she, and for some reason, Aemond could understand).

You sighed. “Alright.”

#house of the dragon #hotd fic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #dad aemond #fluff #fluff fluff #fluff fluff fluffl fluff fluff fluff #the fluffy fluff fluff #fluffy fluff fluff fluff

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makenna-made-this · 7 months

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Mom's trying to get the chickens into hockey now smh

#buff orpington behavior #chickens #tiny fluffy dinosaurs #the BEST animals #my feather babies #my pets #what a nice dog #chickenblr #birdblr #she's so comfy she did NOT want to move from her lap #it's Beula's house now

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stergeon · 3 months

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spending some more time chewing on the concept of byleth and edelgard constantly writing each other letters—both while one of them is off traveling and also when they're both at home and seeing each other every day. there's one on the emperor's desk in her study; one in byleth's storage locker in the barracks; one left on a pillow or slipped into a pocket or tucked into a book the other is reading.

the emperor is interrupted during a big meeting by a page delivering a "most crucial missive from the commander." she unseals it in front of everyone and it's a crude drawing of a smiley face that says "hello i love you"

edelgard would write these excessively verbose things, very heavy on the poetry and flowery language. there are a couple paragraphs of updates and then page after page after page of "i love you"s and "i miss you"s communicated in ten thousand different and increasingly grandiloquent ways. byleth has learned to bring a dictionary along on her trips so she can decode all the sesquipedalian nightmare terms edelgard uses to tell her she's pretty. most letters start and end with an implied threat that if anyone other than byleth reads it or finds out how soft the emperor is, there will be hell to pay, but it doesn't stop her from proceeding to go ham on the romantic sappiness.

meanwhile byleth's letters are. pretty straight and to the point. she's keeping her posted about the weather, about this dog that she met, about a cool tree she saw, and transcribing direct quotes and best wishes from their friends. but she also includes little mementos she picked up or shiny things she found (she's like a crow with pretty rocks, shells, and baubles), and presses flowers that she thinks edelgard will like, and attempts to sketch things she wishes edelgard got to see with her. it's painfully obvious that byleth will never have an artistic career, but edelgard adores every single drawing all the same.

(hubert made a suggestion to have the emperor and her adviser use different seals or envelopes for their personal and official correspondence. this was accepted as reasonable. several months later, edelgard found out he made the suggestion after the third instance in which he'd been doing his secretarial duties and responding to the emperor's mail, only to find the message from the emperor's adviser did not, in fact, contain the woman's latest report on the situation in fhirdiad or fodlan's locket, but a rather lurid list of her intentions for the emperor upon returning home to enbarr. one contained a diagram. hubert did not examine it.)

edelgard, who hoards every paper she's ever had reason to touch and who has a (frankly, pathological) filing system for everything in her life, has a special container for byleth's letters that is under lock and key. byleth, who lived out of a rucksack for most of her life and constantly had to consider carry weight when vetting her few belongings, doesn't really know how to... have... things. she struggled with toting around all this paper for a while, but couldn't bear to toss out even the simplest "meet me at 4pm for the council meeting" message. she had to make peace with the concept of using a drawer for something like long-term storage and frequently checks to make sure they're all still there.

both of them keep their favorite ones in the back of their respective journals and act like they're not so extremely, terminally soft on each other.

#sterge.rtf #edeleth #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #byleth eisner #byleth x edelgard #them girls. y'know?#maybe i'll write something with this at some point. mostly i just think it's cute to shitpost about #i have them on the brain today #because i'm putting off solving a problem i ran into on a wip #and also putting off an annoying worldbuilding thing i have to sort out for a Different story i'm working on #so here you are. more fluffy nonsense about them girls.

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