, If You Dont Write A Sequel Of This With Grown Up Aemond And Daemon Dp-ing Almost-septa!reader

…, if you don’t write a sequel of this with grown up Aemond and Daemon dp-ing almost-septa!reader

"No One But Me" - Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Reader

a/n: combined a few requests into one - enjoy!! 💕

Summary: Daemon lusts after you, Viserys and Alicent's eldest daughter who is set to become a septa.

TW: DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, canon-typical incest, corruption kink, innocence kink, religion kink, dacryphilia, thigh riding, fingering, oral f receiving, overstim, p in v sex, loss of virginity, breeding kink

Word Count: 2,515 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

Daemon Targaryen never thought much of you, the eldest daughter of his brother and Alicent Hightower. You were a plain, mousy little thing the last time he saw you, at Rhaenyra’s wedding before he eloped with Lady Laena. You were sweet enough, curtsying and greeting him politely when you met him, thanking him for fighting so valiantly in the Stepstones. But that was the extent of your interaction.

After his second wife’s passing, he comes to Driftmark to lay her to rest. And that is when he sees you again. You are a woman now, he realizes as he watches you rest a hand on Helaena and Aemond’s shoulders, Aegon already off in his cups. There is something so sweet about you, your gentle disposition as you bend down to fix Aemond’s tunic, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. The boy, who has been dour the entire length of the funeral, comes alive with a bright smile at your attention, something Daemon finds quite interesting. You’re beautiful, the curves of your body evident despite the somewhat conservative dress you wear, no doubt hand-picked by your mother.

You approach him, a kind, sweet smile on your face as you offer your condolences, “I am so very sorry for your loss, kepus. I did not know Lady Laena well, but she will be dearly missed by many.” (Uncle)

Daemon simply nods and you step aside, taking Aemond and Helaena with you. He muses to himself that you seem more like their mother than Alicent does, too busy tending to his brother. It stirs something inside him as he watches you, those lilac eyes never once leaving your form. You have piqued the interest of the Rogue Prince, and he has every intention of claiming his sweet little niece as his prize. He stares after you as you retreat into the castle, your siblings trailing after you, like little ducklings in a line. And, as if you could be any more perfect, he watches you interact with his daughters. The kindness you show them, the affection you shower them with in the wake of their devastating loss.

The gears in Daemon’s head begin to turn and he realizes that you are the perfect woman for him. And that he is going to do anything to make you his. There is only one small problem. That is, when your mother announces your intention to become a septa at dinner. You beam with pride as your father, in a rare moment of care for you, leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead. Aegon says something to you that causes you to slap him hard on the shoulder, that tiny spark you’ve shown lighting a flame inside Daemon. He saw the way your eyes danced with mischief. No, you cannot waste your days away as a septa, locked away from the world, your beauty never to be admired. He is most certainly going to have to do something about that tonight.

He finds you that evening, walking toward the humble Driftmark sept, no doubt going for your evening prayers. He heard your mother declaring to Rhaenyra with no little amount of pride that you have never missed a prayer. He steps out of the shadows, taking you by surprise, your hand flying to your chest as if to calm your heart. It’s adorable, really. You’re like a little rabbit, and he is a wolf going in for the kill.

“Uncle,” you greet in a soft voice, bowing your head in greeting before nervously fiddling with your fingers, “If you will excuse me, I am on my way to evening prayers.”

“Too busy to chat with kepa?” Daemon asks as he falls into step beside you, eyes roaming your frame, his thoughts growing more and more lustful with every passing moment, “I am sure that you aren’t too busy for a walk.”

“Perhaps another time, Uncle,” you say, gazing up at him with those doe eyes of yours, so innocent and unassuming, “I know you have never been religious, but my faith is something I hold quite dear.”

Daemon hums in acknowledgement, still walking beside you, glancing down at the subtle bounce of your breasts with each step you take, his mouth nearly watering at the thought of how you look under the fabric of it, the way your hair dances in the wind, “How old are you now, sweetling?”

“Nine and ten,” you inform him as you enter the sept, lighting a candle.

“Nine and ten,” Daemon repeats, “You are a woman grown. It is a shame that you’ve chosen to throw your life away and rot in a sept somewhere. You are very beautiful, you know.”

He watches with bated breath as you bite your lip nervously, “I… Um…”

“What does the faith even have to offer you?” Daemon continues, trailing after you as you kneel down before the altar of the Maiden, “A life of modesty and praying?” He leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear as he whispers, “A life of never knowing the touch of a man?”

He sees the way you shiver, the way you gaze up at him with wide eyes as you ask him if he wishes to pray with you. He kneels beside you, gazing into those sweet, innocent eyes, so ripe for corruption, those soft, full lips, your hair framing your face. He wonders if anyone would even hear if he claimed you, here and now, in the eyes of the Seven. You bow your head and close your eyes, beginning to pray. Daemon bows his head for show, but simply continues staring at you, eyeing the swell of your breasts as your chest rises and falls with each breath. Your collarbones, your neck, your mouth. The urge to claim you grows with every breath you take. You’re so innocent, naive to the desires of men. He can teach you. He will teach you what it is to be pleasured by a man.

Your eyes flutter open after a moment and you give Daemon a polite smile, “Thank you for praying with me, Uncle.”

“You’re such a sweet little thing,” Daemon murmurs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, thinking to himself how much he can teach you, “Might I ask you a question, little one?”

You nod slowly, “Of course.”

“How would you feel if a man kissed you?” Daemon’s nose brushes against yours, close enough to press his lips against yours if he so desires, “Would you hate it? Would you be disgusted? Or, perhaps, you would find yourself not hating it, rather enjoying it.” He watches as your eyes widen, “You know, it isn’t just your body that is beautiful, those lips are almost irresistible.”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, turning your face away as you mumble, “I must go find my brother. Please excuse me, Uncle-”

He gently grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him, your chest flush against his as you gaze up at him, “No need to run away, little one. You know, your skin is so soft and smooth,” he says, caressing your cheek with his free hand, “Just like the rest of you, I imagine.”

You let out a soft gasp as Daemon presses his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. He feels you stiffen and then relax into his grip. His kiss is rough, aggressive, hungry even, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring it, moving against your own. After a few more moments, you pull away, eyes darting around.

“I am a maiden, Uncle, I… I cannot do this…”

Daemon gathers you in his arms, his hand moving up and down your back in a motion you could almost consider soothing, “I don’t believe that, sweetling. I can see it in your eyes that you want this.” His gaze travels to your lips, slightly parted and swollen from the kiss.

“We can’t…”

He cages you in against the wall with his body, pressing up against you, “Oh, I believe we can, little princess.”

You whimper as Daemon’s lips along your neck, his hands moving to squeeze at your breasts, kneading the soft, supple flesh between his hands. He has fire in his eyes as he all but tears your dress from your frame, admiring how you look in just your smallclothes, the flimsy shift that does little to hide your curves from his lascivious gaze. You try to cover yourself, averting your gaze, and the innocence of your actions drives him nearly to the brink of madness.

He sits on one of the pews, pulling you onto his lap so that you straddle him, your weak protest coming, “Uncle, we could be seen-”

“Let them see,” he rasps.

His hands are all over you, squeezing your ass, moving up your body to your breasts again, his sweet little princess, there for him to fuck, to defile, to corrupt. You whine softly, grinding yourself against his hips, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he continues feeling your body.

“It feels strange in my stomach… Between my thighs…”

He chuckles, meeting your gaze, moving one hand to your hair, tugging it, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought, little one. I think you’re just a little tease. Look at you, rubbing yourself against my thigh like a wanton little whore. Come now, little one, make yourself peak. I know you can.”

His hands are all over you, calloused and warm, touching you places only a husband is meant to touch. You feel your pleasure building like a tidal wave as you continue moving your hips against him, rubbing your bare cunt against his thigh, feeling his muscles flex under you, how he bounces his leg ever so slightly to spur you on. His hands move to your hips, moving you faster and faster, listening to the sound of your breathing, coming out in soft, desperate pants as you reach your peak, eyes rolling back, body collapsing against his.

“What if someone walks in?”

Your voice is a hushed whisper as Daemon places you on the altar to the Maiden, tearing your shift in half, his eyes now nearly black with lust as he takes in the sight of your bare body. He pushes your knees apart, letting out a quiet laugh, admiring the sight of your bare cunny, already wet for him.

“That’s part of the excitement, little one. I’m sure any man would die to be with you, but you’re all mine, little princess. You were a maiden when you walked in here, but let’s see what you will be when you walk out.”

“This is blasphemous,” you say as he sinks to his knees, gazing up at you.

Daemon presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before burying his tongue inside your cunt, reveling in the whine of pleasure you let out, your hands gripping the altar so hard that your knuckles begin to go white. He laps at your folds, fucking you with his tongue, hiking your thighs over his shoulder as he tastes you, the lewd slurping and sucking noises he makes echoing throughout the sept. You whimper pathetically as he brings you closer and closer to your peak, his thumb rubbing against your pearl, your toes curling as you feel the pressure build in your stomach. He senses your climax is close and moves faster, his face moving from side to side as he devours you, his nose pressed against your nub, your arousal coating his tongue when you reach your peak once more with a cry of his name.

He moves to stand, cupping your mound, biting back a laugh at the way you try to shrink away from him, “It’s too much, Uncle…”

Daemon ignores your words, leaning in to kiss you, his free hand pinning your own above your head. He pushes one finger inside you, feeling the way you squeeze around his fingers, pumping it in and out ever so slowly, your entire body trembling as he continues his onslaught of pleasure. You gaze up at him, eyes watering from the overstimulation as he continues, his arousal only growing when fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks. Gods, you look beautiful when you cry. He adds a second finger, listening to you moan, your head falling back against the altar as you reach your peak yet again. But he has no intention of having mercy on you, wanting you to be nothing but a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him as he adds a third finger, his thumb circling your swollen pearl. His fingertips brush against that rough patch deep inside you that has your eyes going wide, lips parted in a silent scream as you manage to murmur his name. He moves his fingers, curving them so he can hit that spot with each movement, bringing you to your peak once more, feeling you soak his fingers.

Your entire body shakes and Daemon pushes his fingers between your lips, arching his brow in a silent demand for you to lick his fingers clean. He watches as your plump lips wrap around the digits, thinking to himself how lovely they’ll look wrapped around his cock, your eyes watering as you choke on it while he fucks your mouth, but he’ll save that for another time. He needs to be inside you right now. He needs to breed you, to make you completely and utterly his. For everyone to see your stomach, swollen with his babe, knowing that he fucked his seed into you.

Daemon quickly undoes his breeches just enough to free his cock, already achingly hard, giving himself a quick stroke before slapping the head of it against your cunt. You let out a surprised cry, your breasts bouncing as you jump slightly. He pushes inside of you, his thick length feeling as if it’s splitting you open in the most delicious way. He sheathes himself to the hilt inside of you, bottoming out inside you with a low moan. Daemon moves like some sort of feral beast, feeling your warmth enveloping him, squeezing him so tight, so wet for him. He ruts against you, pounding into you at an animalistic pace as you gaze up at him wide-eyed. It doesn’t take much for your poor, oversensitized body to reach your peak again, but he fucks you through it, chuckling as you pray to the Maiden for forgiveness.

“Little princess, we both know it’s me who you worship now. My cock.”

You don’t bother denying it, only wrapping your legs around him, allowing him to fuck into you harder, deeper, his hips stuttering as he reaches his peak, making sure to spill his seed inside you, plugging you up with his fingers so not a drop spills.

“After you have recovered, we will go to Dragonstone, where I will make you my wife, little princess. You belong to me now, not your mother, not the gods, no one but me.”

This is the Tumblr hug 🫂🤍 Please pass it on to 5 mutuals to brighten someone's day!

More Eternals Memes & Incorrect Quotes

Ft. Persephone!Eternal Reader & Hecate!Eternal Reader & the kiddos

Notes: Ya girl got bored and she doesn't want to work on her presentations that are like 35% of her grade. PS: If anyone recognizes which scene I used in Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends in that one gif, y'all are the real ones.

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───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────･ ｡ﾟ⟡ 🌑 ⟡ ˚｡ ･──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Sephia, playing with baby Jack: So how the ride from the hospital?

Phastos: Oh you know, pretty uneventful.

*20 minutes earlier*

Phastos: I'M BREAKING THE WINDOW!

Ben: *on the phone* We locked our baby in the car and people are judging us!

Phastos: I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA BREAK IT!

Ben: Do not break the window! You'll get glass on him.

Phone operator: Sir, please tell your wife to relax. Everything is going to be okay.

Ben: That's a man.

Operator: Really?

Phastos: DON'T WORRY JACK! DADDY’S COMING FOR YOU!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────･ ｡ﾟ⟡ 🌑 ⟡ ˚｡ ･──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

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───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────･ ｡ﾟ⟡ 🌑 ⟡ ˚｡ ･──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Laurie: What are you in the mood for?

Mara: World Domination

Laurie: Seems a bit ambitious

Mara: Laurie, you are my world

Laurie: Awwww

Mara:

Laurie:

Mara:

Laurie: OH

*Bonus scene*

Ikaris: I sense a disturbance in the force

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No One:

Arthur & Uriel meeting for the first time and already vibing:

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Arthur: I guess I’m too tough to cry

Agalia: 20 minutes ago you were crying about snakes

Arthur: THEY DON’T HAVE ANY ARMS

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Ikaris: Hey Gil, I brought Laurie for that playdate

Mara: *Snarling & Feral & Foaming*

Ikaris: *GRABS LAURIE*AHHHHH, GET YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER GIL

Gilgamesh: She don’t bite

Ikaris: YES SHE DO

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I'm sorry, is this not what happened?

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Laoise: Don’t be afraid to ask for help!

Aisling: You are not a burden!

Hamish *blinking in morse code*: Murder is a-okay

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*Ikaris and Mara arguing about something*

Mara: Tell him where he can put his grapes Uri!

Uriel *signing*: In the fridge!

Mara:

Uriel:

Ikaris:

Mara: Yeah! In the fridge

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Kaetlyn: I'll just be a few minutes, you won't even notice I'm gone!

*Not even two minutes later*

Druig:

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*Coming up with the Unimind Title*

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*Kingo in his ho era*

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Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @chompchompluke, @aphroditesmoon, @littlewitchoftheweast, @disco82, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @beananacake, @getawaycardotmp3, @mitchh12, @jolixtreesunn, @tesha-i-guess, @vikingqueen28, @sydthesciencekid05, @n-1d1-1, @deanthomaswhore, @emilysanay143, @lavenderwisteria,

Please reblog and like! Do not repost!

Ok, so I’m a little delirious from NyQuil and congestion. But I thought of a possible HOTD fic idea that I would like some opinions on. I haven’t watched the show, but I love reading the fics. Jace and Aemond are my favorites to read about out of all of them.

So let’s say that reader’s mom was a childhood friend for both Alicent and Rhaenyra, and she was actually a very talented seamstress. Both Rhaenyra and Alicent were lowkey obsessed with reader’s mom and wanted her for themselves. But one day, reader’s mom got sick and died, and the only person that comes close to having the same talent in designing and sewing is the reader, her daughter. Alicent and Rhaenyra kind of latch onto reader bc they remind them so much of their mother. It goes to the point where Jace and Aemond have also developed obsessive feelings of love toward the reader. But the reader is very aware of the Royal family’s obsessive tendencies, and does everything she can to avoid them. She isn’t grateful for the attention, she’s terrified. She doesn’t want to be noticed, she just wants to do her work quietly who taking care of her ailing father. But as time passes, Jace and Aemond continue to obsess over the reader and keep trying to put her in compromising positions so that the reader would have no choice but be their personal seamstress that would stay by their sides at all times.

Jace is a very soft boy who wants to woo the reader. He wants nothing but you. Seducing you with warm kisses and kind words. Sometimes reader thinks he’s too soft, but he has his moments where he’s in command and truly like a dragon. It brings him into a whole different light. Reader can’t help but long for his warmth and wonder what it would feel like if he placed his beautiful and warm lips on her skin.

Aemond is a tremendous storm with a powerful temper, and he wants nothing more than to possess the reader’s everything, body and soul. He calls the reader horrible names, “slut,” “whore,” etc. He’s horrible, but sometimes he will be so vulnerable and let down the walls he puts up. Reader can’t help the ache she feels between her legs at the thought of his hands on her body.

Sexy times ensues, there may be some dp-ing, who knows?

Also Alicent and Rhaenyra don’t like reader’s dad, because her mom fell in love with him and they blame him for her dying.

Any thoughts? I’m very tempted to write this out, but what do y’all think?

Tagging: @valeskafics, @aphroditesmoon, @jacevelaryonswife, @barbiedragon, @its-actually-minicika, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @foxyanon

i would like to be loved like a fanfic or fucked like a fanfic but i will take both please and thank you