#rhaemon headcanons

Oh man so where do we start 😈

Okay so the whole time they are exchanging vows Rhaena feels like she’s having an out of body experience.

She feels like she should’ve ran away as soon , but her feet moved her forward rather than back. Like there was an invisible rope pulling her to him.

To be honest she mostly blacks out the ceremony.

She doesn’t even remember saying anything, doesn’t remember when she cut herself to combine their blood(lol is that even needed she’s like half of him already, literally), only when he presses her flush against him and then leans down to press his lips to hers does she come back to her body.

It’s not a chaste kiss. Daemon manages to catch her by surprise and slips his tongue inside her mouth. Swiping his muscle across the roof of it causing her knees to buckle. It’s her first kiss. Her first real proper kiss, but it’s over. She’s grateful for that because she about feels like like she wants to melt into a puddle of goo or run away.

By then of course it’s too late to object or run away. She’s his and he’s hers for the rest of his days(well as long as the marriage is consummated, but Rhaena knows she won’t be able to get away from that).

She can’t speak. She can barely walk. She’s leaning most of her weight on her new husband, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

He’s gone quiet too as he's taking to just staring down at her. Watching her for any signs of discontent. For half a second he regrets it when he sees the worry on her face, but that regret fades when she asks him in a quiet voice, noticing that they are not heading in the opposite direction chambers, where he’s taking her.

That perks him up. He leans down to whisper in her ear that they are heading for their chambers. Which are his. He’s moved all her things there. He could have her stay in her old ones or find some closer to his, but he’d never admit, he’s been lonely. He knows she’s been lonely.

That distance between them has grown to be the size of a mountain, but that ends now.

Daemon knows it should have ended long before this night. Maybe if it had ended they wouldn’t be making their way to his bed chambers with the intention of him taking her, his own daughter’s, maidenhead, but here is where they are.

He can’t say he regrets it really and the thought of some other man or some unworthy green boy whose balls have just dropped doing to her what he is going to do makes his blood boil and pull her into his arms. Scooping her up to carry her the rest of the way(which is just around the corner).

Upon arrival, she tries not to look around as he sets her down and kisses her. This one is like the kiss they shared in the library the other day. Perfectly chaste, but lingering all the same.

He pulls away from her, brings a hand to stoke down her cheek, tells her he will be back soon, and then he leaves her. Ordering a pack of maids to ready her.

Alone with them Rhaena doesn’t speak a word. Her mind has been in a fog and everything hits her all at once.

She’s married to her father. She’s always wanted his attention, his affection, his love, but now she’s gotten that and then some.

They shouldn't be doing this. She can't be a part of this. Why must his love come at this cost(why does she not say anything)?

It’s wrong. It’s so very wrong.

She wants to cry, but she can’t because she doesn’t want her companions to feel sorry for her. They are already giving her pitying looks. It would be too much to bear if she broke down.

She thinks about paying some fisherman to smuggle her to Driftmark, but if she does that Rhaenys(and Corlys) will surely kill him.

Despite everything despite even this, she loves him. Not in a way a lover would(at least not yet 😏), but she does love him and would be heartbroken if he died. He’s distant yes, cold most surely, but he’s always been there and she would not want him gone before his time at her hands.

She realizes that this might be wrong, but it would break her if she was away from him. If she was left without him. It's twisted and it's sick, but she's his, and even if her grandmother didn’t burn him alive like how her mother had burned herself she doubts if he was willing to go this far he’d be able to live without her.

So she resigns herself to accepting the fate that awaits her when her father returns.

Now Rhaena knows what the wedding night is for. She’s aware of the basics of how children are made. Baela has told her some things from her infrequent vista and she’s quite informative(a little too informative, but she knows her sister is just trying to comfort her and not make the business so scary).

She’s also had the misfortune or rather fortune to gaze at those Valyrian tapestries depicting hedonism and debauchery strewn around Dragonstones and a had a look or two through some of her father's more explicit novels.

Shamefully there is a tiny part of her that looks forward to the act.

She is lonely. She craves affection. To bear her soul to someone and have them bear her soul to her, but now she’s going to share that part of her with her father.

She doesn’t know what to feel. This little anticipation that causes her to feel heat to a place which should be dead to her father sends her into a slight panic. It's one thing to go along with this. To make herself into an innocent bystander to her father's less than paternal desires, but it's another to want it herself. To be just as perverted as him. Perhaps even more so since she's so desperate for his affection that she's willing to do this to not make a fuss about it when she should be running.

The maids have changed her into her a scandalously sheer nightgown and a robe to cover up her modesty(one that makes her wonder if he ever did this for her mother or if) when Daemon arrives back clothed in a robe of his own.

He regards her for a moment, their eyes met in her vanity before she shifts her gaze. The intensity of it(the black of his pupils over taken to is too much for her to try and wrap her head around. She’s thankful that he doesn’t go to her and instead goes to pour himself a drink. Ordering the maids to leave them.

An awkwardness falls over them as he down two glasses of dornish red in quick succession and she’s just sitting there.

Not knowing what else to say, Rhaena breaths in and breaks the lull by asking him if this set was indeed her mothers, Wringing her hands, eyes on her hands as she tries not to look at him, but she knows she had to say something. That this awkwardness between them can’t stand snd the inevitable will happen no matter how she doesn’t know how to feel or what to do.

He tells her no, that it’s a gift, for her. He takes another drink. Staring at her through the mirror and and asks her, How monstrous do you truly think I am Rhaena?

That causes her to turn around and to refute him that oddly enough she does not see him as anymore monstrous as before, but upon turning to face him she finds that he’s teasing her. A smirk his pale face and she herself starts to giggle.

That awkwardness gone. Relief flooding through her, but it too is gone just as quickly as it came when he beckons her to him. Obeying him with pit of dread in her belly, but she pushes it down.

This was her father. He may have made her into his bride, even for their family that was taking it too far, but he would never hurt her. She comforts herself with that thought. Letting it sink in.

He hands her a glass of wine with that smirk. She’s not particularly fond, of wine, but she accepts his offer. Hoping it will help to settle her nerves. His smile widens as when she gags at the taste.

I’ll find you something sweeter. He tells her reaching out a hand to stroke down her cheek and she nods. Continuing to sip on her drink as she feels the skin where he touched start to heat.

It’s innocent enough. Perhaps she can even imagine that they are just a normal father and daughter, but then those hands start to wonder and that darkness in his eyes which had cooled somewhat from his joke mere minutes before returned

His lips are on hers before she can think. Her emptying wine goblet falling to the ground.

The only warning she received is when his eyes had grown soft. Whispering that she was beautiful before leaning down.

This kiss is intense. More so than at the ceremony. Tongue tracing her wine stained lips and slipping into her waiting mouth again.

They had no audience watching them. No one to look at her with pity or disgust. She could forget the wrongness of it all and focus on the taste of him, it’s smoky something warm about and there’s the bitter taste of the alcohol but it was sweeter coming from his tongue. It’s overwhelming, but she doesn’t exactly mind it.

He only releases her for air and then kissing down her neck. Pulling the robe away from her body and sweeping her into his arms like in the hallway before.

She likes that a lot more than she’d ever care to admit. Feeling something wet pool between her thighs as he throws her onto his bed.

She tries to cover herself, she’s way to exposed, she’s practically bare, but he covers her with his body before she has time to act.

Rucking up her nightgown to resume his reign of kisses down her neck, her clavicle, her breasts(placing a kiss on each of her nipples but he doesn’t take them into his mouth to suckle on), her stomach, and finally just above that thatch of silver curls covering her womanhood.

She can feel his eyes on him. The warmth of his breath fanning her now soaked cunt which embarrassingly only adds to said wetness.

At this point, she’s looking anywhere but at him while his sole focus is on his trembling baby girl who is a beautiful mess in his eyes.

She’s panting, and shaking, overheated, trying to keep from moaning, to keep from losing it. From giving in. From pulling him closer, her brown fingers wanting to thread themselves between his strands to do so. From leaning into his touch which she desperately wants to do instead of laying there like a rag doll, but then he slaps her on the meat of her inner thigh.

It’s not a hard slap. Nothing that will bruise, but it’s close enough to where she wants him that it snaps her out of her own head. Forcing her to meet his gaze.

His eyes are completely black. All the color drained from them. She's the reason for that darkness.

The realization of that brings about a shiver that makes her flush with heat traveling straight down to her cunt.

Daemon doesn’t miss that. The sight or the smell of it with the his face being mere inches from it. Bringing a thumb down from her hip to feel her need.

He’s watching her. Shifting from her sopping womanhood to her face. He’s always watching her, she doesn’t think he’ll stop watching her and she doesn't want him to. It’s too much to think about.

The Gods will punish us. Rhaena tells him knowing it’s a moot point. They can’t go back from this nor, but she feels like she has to say it. To remind him, and herself that this isn’t normal or right. That they shouldn’t be doing this.

She wants it more than anything else, wants him more than anything else, has always wanted him even if not in this way exact way, but she’s got to be the rational one here. Someone’s got to object to this if only for appearances sake if nothing else. She can’t just let him take her without objecting to it.

Maybe if she objects he’ll stop. They won’t be able to go back to before, she’ll be heartbroken if he throws her out of his chambers, humiliated, but he can send her way and they won’t have to regret anything. Won’t have to worry about what comes after this. The uproar they will bring about from their sin.

It’s a painful line of thought, but she knows him.

He wanted as he always did a Valyrian bride he can mold.

Her elder cousin was too old now, to set in her ways to make her his wife. Helena was married, mad, and half Hightower and Baela was his darling daughter. He could not marry her, but he could marry the one who doesn’t love.

He’s settling for her. Just like he did with her mother.

Or maybe this is way of atoning for her death. Take the daughter he neglected just like he did the mother except this one was still living. This one he could make right. This one would give him he what he wanted.

Rhaena doesn’t know. She doesn’t want to know, but she knows he doesn’t really want her. That’s the precise reason she’s in his bed with her wetness dripping onto his dark sheets.

She begins to push him away, but he her ankle. His eyes still on her as he pulls her leg over his shoulder. Exposing her womanhood more to him growls out, To hell with the Gods. Your mine. You’ve always been mine.

His mouth engulfs her cunt the moment the last syllable of mine leaves from his lips.

He’s absolutely relentless. His tongue shifting between lapping at her lower lips, occasionally slipping inside her to gather her juices and sucking on her clit before finally settling on the latter.

He plunges his middle and ring finger into her heat. Finding that spongy spot in her that makes her forget everything except the feeling of this pleasure. Stretching her in preparation.

Daemon holds her down when she begins to shake. Taking in every little moan and whimper Rhaena makes. It doesn’t take her long until she’s cumming around her fathers fingers with his tongue around her clit.

Her mind is still hazy from her orgasm when he begins to kiss up her body.

He’s divested of his robe as well her gown now. She can feel every inch of his skin on hers. Warm, big and comforting. He radiates heat.

He’s not the largest man, but his frame dwarfs her and despite this being her first time, the first time she’s felt a naked man on her, the first time she’s been naked around a man, she feels safe in his arms. Like nothing can harm her here with him.

The warmth of his bare skin on hers isn't the only thing she feels😏

She feels her father's heavy cock resting on her thigh. Dangerously close to the place where he made her see stars. Still ready for him.

Rhaenas more curious than she is scared.

She wants to see it. To feel it. Reach down a hand to touch it. Maybe even do what he just did to her, but

She's in luck though because her daddy can tell that his baby girl is deliberating once more.

He takes her little brown hand in his pale one and moves it to his member. Using it to tug on the leaking shaft a few times.

Their eyes, both blown out from their lock. She can’t look away and neither can he when he asks her with her fingers wrapped around his cock, How monstrous do you find your kepa now?

It's wrong, those words are so wrong, what they are doing to each other goes against every God, but she can't help but flood or the whine she lets out.

It’s Rhaena this time that pulls him in for a kiss.

She’s become quite the little student, but he uses it as a distraction to line himself up with her center and push into her warmth.

He doesn’t want to give her anytime again to be at war with herself or to doubt him.

He’s slow. He knows how it can during a woman’s first time. He remembers how it was with Laena(he doesn't really want to think of this right now, but it's point of reference).

Rhaena is his baby and he doesn't want to see her hurt even at his own hands(unless she asked him too).

She can feel him everywhere. From her head to her toes. She expected some pain, but all she can feel is the deliciousness of the stretch.

His length dragging across her walls. Stretching her some more as he bottoms out when she bucks up to meet his thrusts.

He’s going far too slow for her liking. She begins to whine. Breaking their kiss to pout, but she doesn’t have to pout for long when he gets the hint.

Speeding up as he drags his length across her pulsing walls. In and out. Finding his rhyme.

She’s already sensitive from her last orgasm so when he brings down a calloused thumb to draw circles into her engorged clit and pulls his mouth away from planting kisses down her neck to command Let go for your kepa little one, for the second time that night, she comes.

It takes a little bit longer for her to cover and when she does she sees that he’s almost as gone as she was. Mouthing at her breasts and taking a brown nipple between his lips and into his mouth to suckle on.

She thinks about pushing him away again. Remembering something Baela had told her about not letting a man finish inside of you if you wanted, but she can’t bring herself to do it. She can’t bring herself to do anything but wrap her legs around him when his breathing becomes ragged and his thrusts sloppy.

Barely leaving her cunt. As if it pains him to do so as he stares down at her like he found those Gods that have surely condemned them in her dark eyes.

Rhaena takes to running her hands to stroke his silver strands and goes to nip at his ear. Breathing into it as she whispers Let go for me kepa. She doesn't know what possesses her to say it, but she's glad she does when she hears the gutteral sound he makes as he shoots his seed into her.

He doesn’t pull away from her. Not for some hours. Only managing to flip them over so as not to crush her, but Rhaena doesn't think she'd mind it.

She feels some guilt about what transpired when they are laying there, namely when Daemon starts to fuck his cum back into her with his fingers which leads to another round of whatever, but not as much as she should feel.

Not nearly as much as she should when she awakens in the morning with his tongue inside her. Daemon not being able to get enough of his baby’s sweet little cunt and Rhaena is too to stop him.