#dh!daemon x reader

To Daemon, his mating to Rhaenyra made sense. Caraxes and Syrax spirits had an affinity to each other since Syrax’s eclosion. But since Viserys wanted to be stingy, Daemon had no choice but to stay away. He had to watch as his niece, his soulmate, marrying Laenor, her second cousin. Not a bad man, in himself, but the boy was already mated- though the information had been kept very quiet. Laenor was -also- Daemon’s brother-in-law. Since the exiled prince had been made to marry Laena, his own cousin once removed, or was it his third cousin, Daemon couldn’t truly care to keep up at this point. 

The whole thing made for bizarre family banquets, in any case. Daemon and Rhaenyra, mates unmated facing each other at the table, the other husband and wife sitting next to them.  Children scattered around on the chairs surrounding them, guards and ladies-in-waiting standing near the exit of the room and Laenor’s mate sitting at the far end of the table, managing Rhaenyra and -allegedly- Laenor’s children every now and then, rather than engaging in the conversations flying around them. 

And whilst Caraxes used to be angry, envious and betrayed for Syrax, as the dragon spirit and its shifter were, in the other dragon’s opinion, taken for granted, he didn’t want to bite Laenor’s precious pearl’s head off. Maybe it was because of the soft smile Rhaenyra had on her lips when she watched Laenor’s pearl interact with her small and rowdy children, or even how they interacted with his own daughters. Daemon would have to question Caraxes about it later, but for now, the dragon had lowered his angrily guarded walls. 

To Rhaenyra, sharing her space with a man unavailable to her such as her husband was had been a harsh reality to adapt to. Seeing him enjoy the company of another had been hard to accept, until she learn to let you in, too. You’d always been polite, kind, never forcing yourself to be in her presence, nor wanting to overstep. She was a princess after all. You had learned, since you first mating with Laenor, that your position was to stay secret, discreet. She, on the other hand, was raised to flash her relationship, and you understood where that could bring conflict within your, admittedly weird, household. 

It happens quite naturally, with Rhaenyra. It already was somewhat of a grey zone between the two of you when Laenor was still alive. Not romantic, strictly speaking, but not planotic either. There was an affection, that’s for sure. But the bound becomes something more after Laenor’s death. The excruciating pain Rhaenyra feels when you retract to yourself, the loneliness that she feels when you spend the weeks following your mate’s disappearance cloistered in bed, barely living makes Syrax act more than Rhaenyra. 

Dragons are weird, and pity can be powerful. It’s Syrax that start nesting around you after a while, wanting you to feel better, wanting to see you smile again. Caraxes would follow in Syrax’ path days afterwards, to help its mate. And I firmly believe that Rhaenyra would follow Syrax instincts wholly, but Daemon would be more difficult. He would come around it in the end. 

Imagine time!!

It was warm. Too warm. Dragonstone was not a warm kind of place. Murky chilly, heavy, humid, stifling, clammy, and so on, but never too warm. You stirred, under the heaviness of the blankets covering you, battling with it as it stayed unmovable. Something was stopping you from finding a breeze. You grunted, an ache in the small of your back throbbing through your spine. 

“Lua ziry bē, azantys, se nyke pendagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon īlva va.” Rumbled a gravelly voice, quite in the otherwise silent darkness of your mind. Something snaked around you bringing your back against something firm, and definitely the source of the warmth you were subjected too. Another huff escaped your lips as you tried to open your eyes and face the morning. 

“I–I have no idea of what you said.” You admitted grumpily, letting Daemon nuzzle into the crook of you neck. Your admission made him laugh quietly.  

On your other side the bed dipped under a weight that your blurry vision could only analyse as a woman, dressed in dark red and black, with long white hair. 

“Ivestragī zirȳ sagon, mōrītubis istan qopsa.” Rhaenyra chuckled, an arm passing over your head as she pushed Daemon’s head away from your neck, where he’d started to leave a trail of kisses and small bites. 

Mind still fuzzy with sleep and the overwhelming warmth, your reactions felt sluggish and your coordination wasn’t to its maximum. Yet, you still leaned into Daemon’s chest and let Rhaenyra’s deft fingers run through your hair soothingly. The ache in your lower back brought memories of the night before. 

Kisses exchanged between Rhaenyra and yourself, neck craned as she pressed against your back. Daemon, doing what Daemon did best, his length deep in your warmth, his mouth kissing every inch of your chest as he did. One of your hands on his shoulder, the other keeping rhaenyra’s face close to keep kissing her, like she was the oxygen you needed. 

“Stay with us, Darling.” Your queen chuckled softly, lips replacing her finger on the crown of your head. 

You hummed an answer, nonsensical as it was, lifting your head to smile up at Rhaenyra. Daemon huffed, throwing himself back on his side of the bed, dramatically. This made you chuckle. “Everyone can get kisses, you big fire-pup.”

“Fire-pup, that is an original name you’ve found me.” Grunted the prince, grabbing Rhaenyra’s hand to kiss it. You shrugged at him, snuggling into the duvet once more. 

“I have to call you something, you all have your nicknames.” Perfect and sole logic. Nobody could argue with it. You moved toward a colder spot on the bed, making your spine throb once more. 

Daemon laughed, head thrown back, and Rhaenyra giggled with him. “Of course, Darling.”

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Aegon: 

There’s a softness in him that nobody else but you can see. Sharing a warm bath, the chirping of birds as only sound breaking the silence. You were currently admiring Aegon's peaceful traits. His head leaned back, resting back against the bath, eyes closed to take as much advantage of the calm as he could. The lines of stress that usually creased his forehead were gone, the frown of his perpetual pompous air left its place to the soft and natural smiley position of his lips. One of your fingers, that until then had been busied drawing nonsensical forms on his chest, made it's way up to the corner of his lips, to trace them. 

Aegon opened an eye. “Careful, my love, your gaze will make me melt at this rate,” he teased in a hoarse whisper. His hand coming to hold yours and he pressed a kiss to your fingers. 

“I cannot melt what is already made of fire.” You sputtered, lowering your gaze to his chest, startled by the intensity of his gaze. You'd tried to make your tone teasing, as his was, but the fatlering of your voice had you wince a little. Aegon simply hummed a breathless chuckle, adjusting himself under you, hips grazing your behind momentarily.

“Admit it, you wanted to touch me.” And seeing as you started to shake your head, trying to deny his playful accusation, Aegon placed a soft hand to your cheek, now looking down at you. “That’s alright. I cannot fault you for it.” 

Aemond: 

“I can feel your gaze, Qelos.” He was sitting at the very front of his cushion seat, a heavy and dusty volume sat on his knee, a position he’d held for hours now. You’d abandoned your own activity to look at the man’s form, appreciating him. Aemond had tolerated it for a while, but after half an hour had passed and he could still see your body half turned to him, the dragon hybrid couldn’t resist teasing you about it anymore. His purple irises rose to meet your. 

“Can’t I just admire you?” You asked. Not teasing, it was an earnest question, and somehow, that took Aemond by surprise even more. And when your eyes trailed his figure, as if to prove your point, the man nearly broke.

A heat overtook him, creeping it’s tingling fingers on the back of his neck, burning a path to his face and down his spine. The book on his knees nearly tumbled down, shaken by the jolt echoing through his body. Aemond closed it, a sharp thud breaking the flustered silence that had overtaken the room. 

“You’re speaking nonsense.” The prince managed to say, his gaze hardening, as if it would distract you from the flush of his cheeks. Your lips curled into a smile and his own raised to mirror your expression, on a smaller scale. 

“I would argue that it makes perfect sense, my prince.” You rose from your seat to instead kneel in front of Aemond, removing the book from his laps and letting your hand take place on him instead. Your eyes met his, nothing but love in them as you spoke. Aemond swallowed harshly, hands coming to rest upon yours, his eye roaming your face, unsure, but not unpleased by your words. 

You could still see the dark scale that started to cover his jaw, his embarassment very visible now.

Baela:

“Such a high praise it is, my Rider, to have your eyes follow me as I train.” Baela’s words were loud, teasing you publicly as she’d caught you looking at her flying. Her wings still strained against the wind, hands on her hips. The help working in proximity all looked at you both, in turns, stilling for a moment. You groaned, running a hand to your face.

“Baela…” But your concerns went unheard as Baela walked up to you, large grin breaking her usual stern but lovely face, wind-wiped cheeks darker than usual. 

“Did the sight please you? Was my spectacle worthy?” The princess took one of your hands in hers, eyes shining as she asked. The other rested against your hip, were her mark seemed to warm up, spreading a comforting heat throught your body. You had always enjoyed watching her fly, and the figures she’d manage today, you gathered now, had been to show off to you. A wave of embarrassment crawled up your spine, tingling to the base of your neck. 

“You know it always does.” You muttered, making Baela laugh out loud, her head thrown back, throat exposed. She rarely let herself go this much in public. You smiled, eyes taking in the sight of her now, too. “You’re always perfect.”

Baela wings fluttered behind her, and brought your hand to her lips, kissing your fingers softly. “I’m glad, then.” 

Daemon:

He caught you by surprise, a grin carving his face, and the glint in his eyes made your stomach drop. He looked like a predator having found his prey, stalking closer to you softly, purposefully. 

“See something you liked, Azantys?” His deep tone send shivers down your spine, but you cannot bring yourself to lower your gaze from his face. 

“Maybe I have.” You answered him softly, your hands coming to fumble with a piece of your outfit nervously. You monitor his movement, watching him creep closer to you until his chest nearly touches yours. 

It’s like a battle happening, quietly as you study each other’s gaze, his smirk getting bigger with each seconds. “Have you? Pray tell, what.” He purred, one hand coming to the small of your back to press you closer to him. You could feel the warmth of his body seeping through his to you, and you weren’t sure if what you were feeling was embarrassment or it was just… him. 

A chuckle left Daemon as you lowered your head to hid your face against his shoulder, yet, it didn’t deter him from teasing you further. “Now, Azantys, you have to say. I want to share your likings, how mean of you to keep them from me.” The rumble of his voice made your heart spike up. 

Helaena:

“Is their something you wished to talk about?” Helaena asked softly, raising her head to look at you. 

For the first time in weeks the princess had time to be alone (or as alone a princess could be) to do whatever she please. No meetings to hold, no party to attend, no children to keep, no mother to entertain. Only her, her embroidery and you, to keep Helaena company. 

At the sound of her voice, and once her gaze met yours, you jolted, sitting straight in your chair. ‘’No, my lady. I was simply admiring your work.’’ 

You hadn't strike to fluster the princess, but you achieved it nonetheless. Her pale skin flushed, from the part of her neck that wasn't covered in grey-ish-blue scale to the tip of her ears, in a pinkish hue. ‘’You flatter me.’’ She mumbled, raising her legs to tuck them underneath her, a childish habit she still hadn’t got rid of, no matter how hard her mother had tried to train her into forgetting  it. You smiled. 

‘’It’s the truth.’’ You shrugged. The new colours on the princess’ skin gave you an odd sens of pride. But your words proved to be the wrong one to bring back calmness within Helaena’s demeanor, as her blush darkened and she hid her face with the curtain of her hair. 

Jacaerys:

He’d done nothing particular, and yet, found you looking at him with enamoured eyes, a daze expression and a soft smile on your face, as he came back in your quarters, all sweaty from his sword practice. 

‘’Have I done something, my Crown?’’ His expression mirrored yours, as a smile bloomed on his face, raising an arm to remove the layer of sweat from his brows, raising one quizzically, trying to get an answer out of you. 

‘’I find that you have nothing to do more than be yourself for me to be in awe, my prince.’’

You never called him your prince, except when you wanted to rile him up, or tease him a little. His lips curled into a full smile now. He got closer to you, gently, measuring his movement not to make you suspicious of anything, prefering to bid his time with a teasing banter.

‘’Do you, now. Such luck I have to be married to such a loving mate.’’ He purred, stalking closer to you before wrapping his arms around your middle. 

‘’EW! Jace.’’ You complained automatically, felling his drenched body press into you, the sulfur scent of his sweat now sticking to your clothes. Pushing him away didn’t work as he stayed encroached to you like a monkey to a branch. 

‘’I thought you loved me as myself?’’ He pouted, rubbing his face to your neck, making you groan. 

Laenor: 

‘’You’re not listening.’’ Laenor accused, laughing. The ship that held you both was still docked, because Laenor had been adamant in showing you how to knot properly, which his father had thought you both when you were younger, but who were you to refuse you lover of spending time with you?

‘’I was!’’ You countered loudly, punching his shoulder, weakly, but still driving your frustration of his teasing across. 

‘’No, you’re not, you’re just looking at me with big, dreamy eyes, and drooling.’’ He scoffed, tone playful, rubbing his own chin as if to mimic your supposed drooling. And you knew for a fact that you had never drooled in your life, not even for him. 

But you pass a hand under your chin anyway, for good measure. ‘’I don’t drool.’’ You muttered, lowering your face toward the rope Laenor and you shared to practice your knotting, already working the one he was showing you, intending to prove Laenor wrong. But a finger under your chin stopped you, forcing you to look up at the smiling man once more. 

‘’Whatever you say, Nūmio.’’ He smiled and leaned closer to kiss your lips softly, for a short moment. ‘’I find it endearing.’’ He whispered against your lips. 

The words : ''You're terrible.'' Came out as a huff, mumbled against Laenor's lips also. And it made him preen harder, leaning against you completly now, the little crest of scale and nerves potruding from his jaws now extending with pride.

Rhaena:

‘’You’ll do marvellously well.’’ You repeated to Rhaena as she was pacing the room nervously, wrenching her hands with every breath. 

‘’You don’t know that. Maybe they’ll rescind their protection. Maybe my offer won’t be enough to keep us here.’’ She denied, shaking her head, walking back to you. She was paler than usual, and you knew that this meeting would prove essential to keep Rhaenyra’s youngest children safe until you could find a way to go to Pentos undetected. 

You ran your hands over her arms, up her shoulders until you reached her neck, thumbs caressing her jaw softly. ‘’You will do just fine. They are our allies. Why would they not agree to offer us protection?’’ You ressoned with her, eyes scanning her face. Even in the depth of nervousness, she was the prettiest sight your eyes had ever landed on. 

‘’Don’t look at me like that.’’ Rhaena murmured, her hands coming to cover yours, eyes casting downward now. 

‘’Like what?’’ Innocent enough, but you wanted her to say it, she always tried to deflect how you saw her, and now, now, you knew she needed to feel loved and supported more than anything. 

‘’I don’t know. Like I hung the moon or something…’’ She whispered, ducking her head to lean her forehead against your shoulder. 

‘’You didn’t?’’ You exclaimed, faking surprise, which made her chuckle, and look up at you again. 

You’d accomplish your mission. 

Rhaenyra: 

‘’You look pretty, my lady.’’ You told her, wrapping an arm around her middle, supporting her very pregnant belly. Legs on each side of her tail, you were glad that her wings were not out as they were earlier today.

Rhaenyra had been on her feet for most of the day, going about war strategy and plotting letters for her allies. Today was the first time since the morning that you actually were in the same room as her, and you would use this to your advantage. 

‘’I am the size of a ship, wearing the most boring dress of mine and my hair is a mess, Beloved. Do not lie to me.’’ She complained, ordered your softly, letting her head fall to your shoulder as you took some of the weight of the baby growing inside of her, 

‘’I wouldn’t dare lie, Nyra. Your’re always pretty. I just wanted to make sure someone told you today.’’ You hummed, kissing her shoulder. The mirror reflected you both, letting Rhaenyra see your face even if her back was pressed to your chest. 

She chuckled, kissing the side of your face. ‘’You’re the first one to tell me. Thank you.’’ 

You smiled at her, looking in the mirror to catch her eyes. ‘’You are most welcome.’’ 

taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Dry brushes and gentle hands is what Caraxes likes most, and Darmon will act all cocky, but he rather likes being massaged with the scented oils you have afterwards. « There all gifts from me anyway, so, aren’t they a little bit mine, too? » 

I don’t think that Helaena and Aegon have spent enough time as dragons for the preening to affect their human form, I do think that, while they love t fly, they are more resorbed about their dragon form.They do have loose scale coming out sometimes, but way less often then, say Aemond, and even Aemond has less then Jace and Baela. I’ve read somewhere that it happens more when the reptiles are in a good, stable environment (correct me if I’m wrong, I know nothing of reptiles). Seeing how… unhappy Alicent’s children are, I’ll take a wild guess and say that they are not in a good and stable, and so, it does affect their preening period(s). 

I do feel like Love (Aegon’s) would keep one yellow-golden scale, gifted to them as a necklace by Aegon one time. Helaena’s (Y\N) will not receive anything, and they’re lucky to even find a scale. Helaena would somewhat feel ashamed about having loose scales, as if she wasn’t different enough already. Maybe the reader could change her mind, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️. 

With Jace, I feel like Jewel would also be gifted a scale… once a season has passed. He keeps them updated in fresh scales. And yes, maybe Jewel is stuck cleaning up looses scales from their bed some mornings. 

Baela sheds, like her father. She would ask Rider to help, but mostly because of the intimacy, and not because she truly needs help. She does try not to let loose skin laying around because Rider may or may not have freaked because of it, once… 

Aemond… Would take some times before asking for help. Qelos would have to prove themself to him for a while… but then, he would even go as far as too request their help only to take care of his problem (his words). It’s like a massage, done in the covers of the baldaquins and shadows of candlelights. Will not let them keep the scales, however. 

To Rhaenyra, all of this is natural. She’s not bothered by it at all. Oh, she left some scales behind after waking up this morning ? “Sorry, Beloved, let me ask the help to clean it up.” Would be kinda weirded out if Beloved asks to keep some scaled. To her, it’s like asking to keep her fallen hair. So like, sure? But why tho?  

Laenor would trip over himself trying to explain the process to his Pearl. Probably tries to hide the fact that his scales are loose by keeping his distance (which is excruciating and he hates it, and he hates the sad look you give him, and he hates himself…) He does not want his Pearl to freak out and cause another We’re courting incident. If his Pearl was to ask to keep one of his scales, though, he would take SO LONG choosing the perfect one to gift them… 

*I’ve read that snakes shed 4 to 6 times a year, and I’d imagine that it was true when Daemon and Caraxes were a child, but not as much since he’s grown. 

taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Daemon reacting to Bedroom-eyes : 

Catching the dark, heavy gaze you held on him, Daemon could only smirk, before lowering his head, hiding his reaction further. He knows the effect he has on you. The way his words fending the air, cutting tensions (or creating them) tended to crawl under your skin and make you boil for him. Daemon is a patient man, when it benefits him. And if Caraxes would prefer to pounce immediately on you, craving the taste of your skin just as you seem hungry for them, Daemon reels the dragon in. 

‘Just for a moment longer. We have visitors.’ He barter with the godlike part of his soul that only wish to please you, please itself. And Daemon as to push away thought of your naked body, sprawled on his bed, wetting his sheets with your spoils, moaning his name so prettily. 

The exiled prince would let his gaze, or is it Caraxes’ now, gaze rake your body. Words (he couldn’t care less about his visitors anymore) leaving his lips, but Daemon takes the time to lick his lower lip before his eyes leave you. He doesn’t miss the way your knees jolt, or how your back straightens. He doesn’t miss the spike of arousal that whiffs off of you, overpowering the salty tang of sweat that lingers in the room full of consultants and leaders of whatever delegation he was supposed to host. Fighting Caraxes became a struggle he gladly accepted, pushing down the burning need to grab you, pressing against your back. 

Daemon likes to make his wait worth it. 

Laenor Reacting to Bedroom-eyes :

Laenor has a lot of self control. Seeing you look at him with the same gleam you usually reserved for the bedroom, appreciating his form up and down, eyelids half-closed in the process. Laenor has to fight all of his logic, all of his instincts so to not undress you right there and now, fighting against Seasmoke so to not press his teeth against the tattoo of it on your skin. The need to let you have your way with him, just to see how you would play it out. 

Laenor knows that duty comes before pleasure, and unfortunately, you are pleasure. That doesn't mean he won’t do anything more to keep that gaze of yours on him for as long as possible. Might even teasingly look at you, a knowing smirk on his face as he open his wings to stretch them. Show of confidence. Laenor, however is not patient, he simply knows to wait. His whole concentration is now clouded by images of you and him, in the throws of passion, the sounds the both of you make, how your body feels against his and how beautiful you look with a dazed look and red and puffy, over-kissed lips. 

“Later, I will do anything you wish me to.” He promises silently, looking at you without breaking the eye contact, trying to silently convey his thoughts before duties obliges him to some other activity for the meantime. Laenor is nothing if not resourceful, he will find a way to give you what you crave, even more so if you’re craving him.

taglist: @lady-dragon-rider