elizabeth being 100% done with her family

A E G O N 'E G G' & D A E R O N T A R G A R Y E N

love love love pathetic needy daeron, can’t get enough him

cw: nsfw, intoxication, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional dependency, nightmares, self destructive behaviour, vulnerability, fear of abandonment, rough/impulsive intimacy, explicit sexual content (18+),mdni

the metallic scrape of keys against the lock sounded like a serrated blade dragging over bone. you didn’t turn from the flickering glow of the television, though your heart did a slow, painful roll in your chest. the door swung heavy on its hinges, thudding against the stopper with a dull, bruised sound.

“i’m here,” daeron’s voice drifted in, thick with the weight of too much wine and not enough sleep.

you heard his shoes hit the floor, one then the other, followed by the soft rustle of his coat sliding off his shoulders.he stumbled, a soft curse catching in his throat, before his shadow stretched across the carpet toward you.

“you promised, daeron," you said, your voice a flat line of exhaustion.

“i know,” he rasped, moving into your line of sight. he looked hauntingly beautiful in the dim light, his dirty blonde hair falling over his face, his pale blue eyes were bloodshot, glassy with a desperate, pitiful sheen. “i’m a liar. i’m a coward. i’m everything you should have locked the door against tonight.”

“you need to stop doing this to yourself,” you whispered, looking at the way his hands trembled.

“i can’t stop the dreams,” he said, his voice cracking as he reached the edge of the couch. “they were burning again. all of them.dragons made of red shadow, tearing the sky apart. i just wanted the world to be quiet. i just wanted to forget the fire.” he didn't wait for an invitation.daeron sank to his knees on the floor between your legs, his movements heavy and uncoordinated. he looked like a kicked puppy, his long hair falling forward to shroud his face. “don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his forehead resting against your knee. “please. scold me. tell me i’m pathetic. just don’t be silent.”

“you aren’t pathetic," you said, reaching down to brush a lock of hair behind his ear. “you’re just drowning, and you won’t let me pull you out.”

“i don’t want to be pulled out,” he groaned, his hands sliding up to grip your ankles. bis touch was light, tentative, as if he feared he might bruise you just by existing. “i want to drown in you instead. you’re the only quiet place left in the world. everything else is screaming.” he looked up then, his eyes searching yours with a hunger that was almost frightening. “am i making you upset? tell me i haven’t ruined it yet. tell me you still want me here.”

“i always want you here, daeron. that’s the problem.”

“god, you’re so good,” he whispered, his hands sliding further up your legs, hooking behind your knees to pull himself closer. he buried his face in your lap, breathing you in like air after a long submersion. “i don’t deserve the way you smell. like something sweet.like home.” you cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. his skin was hot, feverish against your palms. “you’re drunk, daeron. you’re going to regret this in the morning when the headache sets in.”

“i regret the wine,” he said, his fingers tightening on your thighs, “but i will never regret the way you look at me. kiss me. please. i need to know i’m still alive. i need to feel something that isn’t this.”

he didn't wait for an answer, lunging upward with a needy, desperate groan. his mouth crashed into yours, tasting of bitter juniper and sweet, fermented grapes. it wasn't a gentle kiss.his tongue pushed past your lips, searching, frantic, as if he could drink the very soul out of your lungs. you felt yourself being pressed back into the cushions of the couch, his weight following you, heavy and insistent. “i need you,” he panted against your lips, his hands moving to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones with a bruising pressure. “i need to be so deep inside you that i can’t hear the dragons anymore. shut them out for me. please.”

“daeron, slow down,” you breathed, but your own hands were already tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

“i can’t,” he whimpered, his face dropping to your neck. he began to trail wet, hot kisses down the line of your throat, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to leave a mark. “i’ve been starving for this all day. every glass i drank was just me trying to find the courage to come back and beg for you.” he shifted, his knee forcing its way between your thighs, spreading you wide. he was hard against your hip, a solid, pulsing heat that made your stomach flip.

“do you want me?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against your skin. “tell me you want me even when i’m like this. tell me i’m yours.”

“you know you are,” you said, your breath hitching as his hand slid under your shirt, his palm rough and warm against your ribs. “say it,” he commanded, his eyes dark and swirling with a manic intensity. “tell me you want me inside you. tell me you want me to ruin you tonight. please.”

“i want you, daeron. i want all of you.”

he let out a ragged sound, half-sob and half-growl, as he reached for his belt. “then hold onto me. don’t let me go, no matter how much i shake.” he fumbled with his trousers, his movements frantic until he freed his length. it was thick and angry, weeping a bead of pre-cum that glistened in the television's blue light. he didn't use a condom; he didn't wait for finesse. he shoved your underwear aside, his fingers slicking your folds with a rough, hurried efficiency. “you’re so wet for me,” he choked out, his eyes locked on yours. “even when i’m a mess, you’re ready for me.”

he guided himself to your opening, the broad head of his cock dragging over your clit before he pushed. he was thick, the entry tight and demanding a slow stretch.he softly moved forward, burying himself to the hilt in one singular, devastating thrust.you gasped, your back arching off the couch as your body accommodated his intrusion. the sound of flesh meeting flesh was a wet, heavy slap that echoed in the room.

“god,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back as he remained buried deep within you. “you’re so tight, love. i can feel your heart beating against me.” he began to move, a frantic, uncoordinated rhythm that spoke of his desperation. every time he withdrew, there was a wet, shlicking sound as the suction broke, only for him to plunge back in with enough force to make the couch creak. his balls slapped against your skin, the friction creating a building heat that threatened to consume you both.

“look at me, please” he commanded, his voice breaking. “don’t close your eyes. i want to see you. i need to see you.”

you looked up at him, seeing the sweat beading on his forehead, the way his lips were parted in a silent scream of pleasure.he was beautiful and broken, a prince of a fallen house finding his only kingdom between your legs. “i’m going to come,” he gasped, his thrusts becoming shorter, sharper. “i’m going to... fuck, i’m going to fill you up. please— please my sweet, my dream.”

his hands gripped your waist so hard you knew there would be bruises in the morning. he gave one final, violent shove, his body locking up as he spilled himself deep inside you. you felt the hot, rhythmic pulses of his release hitting your cervix, a thick, internal flooding that made you cry out his name. he collapsed onto you, his chest heaving, the smell of sex,sweat and alcohol in the air. he didn't pull out. he stayed there, trembling, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice small and terrified. “the dreams will come back if you leave me.”

“i’m not going anywhere, daeron,” you said, stroking his hair. “i’ve got you.”