Daemon Targaryen X Reader (Y/N)
Warning: nsfw, smut, non-consensual (sort of)It has been two months since you were abandoned at Kings Landing. Daemon was called away on some assignment given to him by the King and has not come home. You are visiting your sister who is a few weeks away from delivering her baby, and given your present situation, decided you would stay until she gave birth.
Two weeks after your arrival, your sister gives birth to a beautiful baby boy. Both your sister and her husband are excited, and you decide to step aside and let the midwife look after mom and babe. As you step outside of the room, you take yourself to the courtyard outside. It is a warm day despite the snow on the ground.
While you were admiring the way the snow shone under the sun, your thoughts wander to the night Daemon summoned you to his bed chambers. You remember the way his eyes looked at you, the way he smelled, the gentleness with which he kissed you. You think back with shame on the fact you had enjoyed it.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a page boy. âMaâam,â he says hesitantly. You feel a little confused by the way he is looking at you, but you realize that he must have tried for your attention a couple of times. You snap your attention onto the young boy in front of you and nod courteously. He proceeds to hand you a message.
Taking the paper into your hand, you unfold it and read what is written. It is the Targaryen. He is home and wants you there by the following sunset. He wishes to consummate the marriage quickly, and without further delay. âIt is a duty that must be fulfilled, and regrettably, should not have taken us this long,â he had written.
Well, Iâll be damned, you think angrily. He leaves for two months and now itâs on me to return when he desires me. Like a little page boy, Iâm summoned up on a whim as Iâm needed to serve on the basis of duty. This is bullshit!
You say nothing out loud, and do your best to maintain a neutral expression on your face. You did not want the page boy to see the disgust you felt, so fought the disdain from creeping into your expression. You thank the messenger for his delivery and make your way back to your sister to tell her that you need to leave right away.
âOh, thatâs disappointing!â She exclaims. âI was looking forward to you staying a little longer. But I suppose a husband comes before a sister. I do hope you find happiness sister.â
You suppress a scoff at that. You mean I hope I enjoy sex so that Iâll be more willing to have my own 30-hour labour. Instead, you kiss your sisterâs forehead and give your brother-in-law a warm nod before quietly packing your things and mounting your horse.
The journey back to Kings Landing was shorter than you would have liked. Your horse was bred for his durability and speed, his temperament that of a loyal dog. You begged your Father to leave him uncut since he might then maintain his spirit for galloping, rather than growing lazy like all other gelded horses.
Once your horse is unsaddled and fed, you make your way toward the castle. You decide to seek the comfort of your chambers, as it is early morning and the Targaryen had only requested your presence by the evening of this day. To your surprise, when you enter your chambers, you find Daemon asleep in your bed. Your heart skips a beat when you see him stirring, as you did not expect him to be there and had closed the door rather loudly.
âYouâre loud enough to wake the whole castle. If you hoped me to remain asleep, you failed in that,â the Prince taunted. You said nothing but proceeded to remove your cloak and make a fire as it was cold in the room.
âYou might as well perform your duties now, y/n.â Daemon says.
âIâve got this,â your handmaiden says, stepping forward to take over the making of the fire. You straighten, taking care to keep your back to the Targaryen.
âIâd rather you left us,â Daemon commands.
âAs you wish,â the handmaiden says, turning and leaving as quickly as she could.
Once the door had closed behind the maiden, the room remains silent for a few moments. You can feel the Targaryen watching you, but you keep your back to him.
âWould you like a glass of wine?â the Prince asks, finally breaking the silence. He moves towards bottles in the corner of the room. You decline, although you do wonder if that would make what needs to be done a little easier.
âI should warn you, Iâm at that time of the month,â you say, much to your chagrin it comes out feebly and wobbly. Well done, you chastise yourself. Heâs not stupid. Itâs the oldest trick in the book!
âHm, yes, Iâm sure you are,â the Prince responds. âAre you sure you wouldnât like anything to drink?â
This time you accept, grateful for anything that might steady your nerves. Or at least replace nerves with confidence.
The Targaryen extends the glass to you, and you regret your acceptance of a drink, as you now must cross the room and get closer to him. Daemon observes your reluctance but says nothing as you approach slowly, your gaze averted.
Why does this Targaryen unnerve me so? I put distance between us, and he contrived a way to make me approach him.
When you reach forward to take the cup, you look up and meet the Princeâs gaze. His eyes are neither warm nor are they cold. He seems to be neutral. Patient. Waiting to see how welcoming you are going to be.
As you take the glass to your lips, you continue to maintain eye contact with the Prince. The wine warms you as you swallow, and although that was your first sip you feel a little more relaxed and self-assured. That said, you decide to let Daemon break the silence. You were not about to work hard at moving things along. He ambushed you in your quarters after all.
Daemon lets you finish your glass before he breaks the silence. âWould you like some more?â He offers. You hesitate, so he takes your glass, fills it, and hands it back. âIn case the answer is yes.â
Daemon turns and fills his glass up, then walks over to the couch and sits down. He pats the spot beside him, indicating to you that he wanted you to sit beside him. You opt to sit on the stool across from him. The Prince does not appear angry by this, instead, he smiles slightly, and takes a drink of his wine.
A few minutes pass in silence. It was quiet enough that you hear the birds beginning to wake from their sleep, as the sun would soon be rising. Once the Targaryen had finished his drink, he stands. At first, you think he wants to go get more wine, but instead, he puts the glass down and approaches you.
Before he reaches you, you set your glass down, get up, and move across the room to replace the distance between you and the Targaryen. He stops in his tracks, and you stare him down, defiantly. âYou abandoned me here for two months,â you spat at him angrily. The Targaryen says nothing but continues to look at you with the same neutral expression from before.
âThe King needed my help,â he responds quietly. As he spoke, you angle your body subtly, waiting for an opportunity to race out the door. You have no intention of bedding with this man.
Daemon remains where he is. If he has noticed your move or even guessed what is in your head, he doesnât let on. âWell, itâs been two months with no consummation, it can wait until this evening,â you reply firmly. âI am tired from my long ride.â
âIt does not require that much energy, and even encourages sleep to follow. Donât fight this.â
âI am tired from my ride. It can wait until tomorrow,â you repeat.
The Prince regards you pensively. Then, looks to the door, smiles and moves to place himself between you and the exit. He figured out your next move and blocked you. He looks back at you, a smile on his lips.
âWhat next y/n?â He holds your gaze in his as he begins to walk towards you calmly. You take that moment to try for the door, all you need to do is go around the Targaryen. With your eyes fixed on the exit, you move quickly to dodge the Prince who jumps out at you. Unfortunately, he catches your elbow, hard enough to elicit a verbal expression of pain, and he pulls you around, putting himself between you and the door again.
Without releasing your arm, the Prince drags you farther away from the door, in the direction of the bed. Once you reach the bed, the Targaryen roughly shoves you farther toward it and proceeds to back off a little, making sure to stand between you and the exit. You are breathing heavily, and rub your elbow where his fingers had just been.
The Targaryen stays quiet while you glare angrily at him. After a few minutes, he breaks the silence; âWell, Iâm glad we got the bolt out of the way.â He begins to walk towards you, cautiously in case you plan to run again. You back up in order to keep him at a distance, but become unable to go any farther when your legs are barred by the physical appearance of the bed.
It does not take Daemon long to reach you after that. Suddenly he has his hands on your waist, pulling you to him. Heâs so close you can hear his breathing and smell the wine on his breath. Then, he kisses you. Just like before, he is gentle, trying to gauge your level of resistance. You push him away from you with all your strength, but he remains steadfast, unmovable.
The Prince kisses your neck as he takes off your tunic. You struggle, remaining stubborn with anger. He abandoned you, made you return to Kings Landing when you were with your sister, and now heâs taking what he wants. His being a man made it so that you had no choice, but that did not mean you had to make it easy for him.
What you did not expect was the Targaryen to turn you around, bend you over, and enter you from behind. Your anger burned deeper as he did this. I am not a common whore, you thought. However, rather than fight, you gave in.
Although your sister had told you that she never minded when her husband entered her from behind, you found yourself loathing it. It was not comfortable as you used your hands to keep yourself from falling over, all the while the Targaryen remained with his feet planted on the ground, steadying himself so that his momentum was firm and strong. You were thrust forward with each stroke, your balance in jeopardy and you widened your stance to keep yourself from lurching too far forward. That proved to be a mistake as it gave Daemon deeper access, which left you a little breathless.
When the Targaryen climaxes, he grunts a couple of times, releases you, then sinks into your bed, leaving you to clean yourself up. Once you were dressed, you left your chambers, as it is morning
For the next couple of weeks, the Targaryen summons you to his chambers to fuck. You give little resistance, so he continues to take you from behind. This evening, you thought you were going to be left in peace, but when you hear a knock on your door your heart sinks.
âCome in,â you call back, expecting a chambermaid to enter to tell you that Daemon wants to see you in his chamber. To your dismay, it is the Prince himself who strides into the room. There is no stalling now.
You were comfortably reading on the couch and in no mood to entertain the Targaryen. You were raw and uncomfortable from being fucked, and were worried that your little resistance was the reason for his seeking you almost every night. Maybe if I made it more difficult, he would have sought a whore already, you thought bitterly.
The Prince sits across from you and pours a glass of wine. He silently offers to pour you one, holding an empty cup up in indication. You silently shake your head. Deciding to ignore him, you put your head down and continue to read your book.
âAre you sure? This pitcher of wine happens to be one of the tastier drums from the kitchen,â Daemon says, breaking your concentration after a few minutes of ignoring him.
âYes, I am,â you reply. If was the same pitcher you had last week. You return to your reading.
After a couple more minutes go by, Daemon crosses the room, takes the book from your hands, and tosses it to the side. âNow would you like some wine?â He asks, a calm look on his face.
You growl with frustration, and standing up you go to walk away. I am not interested in entertaining the Targaryen tonight, you think furiously. In response to this, a hand grabs you firmly by the waist and Daemon begins to turn you to face the other direction, but you struggle, spinning around, your hand makes contact with Daemonâs face in a slap.
The Targaryen takes a step back to look at you, astonished. âI do not want you to bend me over and fuck me from behind tonight like I have no say in the matter. I am not an animal to be bred by you, Targaryen,â you spat at him.
Daemon regards you evenly. Removing his hand from his face, he calmly replies: âthen engage with me like a woman.â
This response takes you by surprise and makes your heart skip a beat. You regard the Prince with a confused look. Finally, he breaks the silence: âyou were not nearly this hostile when I took your virginity with my fingers.â A slight smile on his lips. His words dripping with arrogance.
You think back to that evening, how it felt - good? - when the Targaryen had touched you. It certainly felt different from the last few weeks, where you felt used for his pleasure. Raw from his touch. Numb to his mouth. You look up at Daemon and realized that he was giving you a chance to lead. You had always viewed the bedroom like a man views a battlefield, as an opportunity to conquer and obliterate. Both the household and war are at the palm of a manâs hand.
However, at that very moment, The Rogue Prince was yielding to you. He was waiting for you to make a decision.Â
âAnd those are my two options?â you ask. âTo engage with you on my own, or bend over and be taken?
âI am your husband,â he responds simply.
âYou are my conqueror,â you shot back.
Daemon slowly takes a step forward. âIs that what I am?â he asks.Â
Something stirs inside you, and you find yourself remaining still, not wishing to turn away and run for the first time since you met this Targaryen. He stops inches from you, looking down, eyes locked with yours, he says âIt doesnât have to be that way.â
You avert your eyes from him, unable to handle their intensity. âI would appreciate that glass of wine now,â you state.
Instead, the Targaryen takes your cheek in his right hand, tilts your chin back and engages your lips in his. He kisses you deeply, stirring the passion in both of you. You find yourself responding, kissing him back, tugging at his chest gently with your hands. Daemon proceeds to kiss your ears, then your neck, while a couple of chills run down your spine in quick succession. You continue to grasp at the shirt on his chest while his hands calmly begin to strip away at the bodice of your dress.Â
Losing track of time, you suddenly find yourself taking your dress off, as the Targaryen rids himself of his clothing. Coming back to kiss him, you find his body warm against yours, it was more intoxicating than the wine you did not drink. Before you knew what was happening, Daemon suddenly pushes you, pinning you down on the bed. A little bit of panic rises in your chest, a claustrophobic feeling overwhelming you. The Prince must see this in your face, as he eases the pressure of his body a little, and begins to kiss your neck. These kisses trail down your chest, to your breast, down your stomach. He leaves little nibbles between your thighs, causing you to start and pull away, but catches your hips and steadies you.Â
âNot ready for that?â he teases. You glare at him in response.
Instead, Daemon comes back to lie on top of you, entering you but making sure to stay on his elbows. The skin of his pelvis touches your skin and it is warm. This intensifies the pressure building in your stomach. He uses his left hand to wrap your left leg around him, then begins to grind against you, causing your breath to tighten in your chest, and your area to feel amazing. You groan softly in his ear.
Daemon builds this, in and out, up and down. Slowly he lowers himself on top of you, but this time it doesnât bother you. Instead, you close your legs tightly around him as he breathes heavily into your neck. You are thrown into ecstasy as you climax. A few seconds later the Targaryen follows.Â
The prince lies down beside you, and says, ânow that is how a husband and wife enjoy one another. Marriages are built on that, not conquer and domination.â Â