Hey! could i get an imagine/oneshot fluff nsfw Daemon x fem!reader where they are married and have a very good, even envied relationship (they totally trust each other and are complicit in everything) but the reader is extremely (at exorbitant levels indeed) touch hungry and soooo needy for him, (but not in a bad way) with a lot of fluff please? (sorry for my english)
Ten & One
Daemon Targaryen x Reader
Summary: As the 11th child out of 14 kids, all you knew was chaos. The pros of being one of the youngest from such a big family meant most of the duties were already fulfilled by your elder siblings, and yet the unavoidable con of having to marry well still lingered. So one can only imagine how wild your house was when you first brought home the Targaryen prince as your husband. It's even worse now that the endless supply of children hailed them as their new playmate.
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: the way I said this would be short 🤡, smut (breeding kink, praise kink, choking, riding, oral [f receiving], vaginal penetration), trash talking older sisters (trust me), fem!reader, wife!reader, so so so many kids, soft!daemon, scared by kids!daemon HAHA, girl dad energy!daemon, reader has baby fever ig, flufffffffff, typos, etc.
A/N: YO IVE NEVER WRITTEN A REQUEST SO FAST I THINK yeah so this turned into.... whatever this is. it started out with when I thought of a conflict for the prompt, but then it spiraled like it always does. 🤠 I hope you like it though nonnie!!! And don't even worry about your english. i still cant spell after all the years ive spoken it. 😪 we bilinguals gotta stick together Here's kinda a part 2 to it "Mine"!!!!
In all his years of life, Daemon faced an immense volume of angst, treachery, death, and pain. He was far from a coward and did not even waver under the gaze of dragons. Yet as he sat in the middle of a what he realized was a sacrificing room, only then did he know true fear.
They were surrounding him, filthy, loud, concerningly moist-
"Why the fuck are your hands wet, Silas?" Daemon cringed as he grabbed the red haired toddler's hand before it landed on his cheek.
One of the nannies present in the nursery looked to the other and exchanged knowing and amused looks.
One blonde haired boy began to cry as one brown haired boy yanked the toy from his hand. Daemon turns, instinctively needing to hush the child, that was until the brunette begins to cry as well, because a raven haired boy steals the toy he had stolen.
The nannies don't even need to go to the crying kids as one of the older children present, their sister, Daemon thinks, worked to calm them down.
The twin brother of the boy in Daemon's grip with the same burning red hair looked over to whom spoke from the other side of the room, halting his game with his much, much younger brother inside the crib he was not supposed to be in. Silas' lips purse into a soft thoughtful line, brows furrowing against each other as he looks to his small palms, "my hands are not wet, uncle!"
The boy says this in such a sweet tone, with not hint of malice, that Daemon actually feels bad for cursing.
Upon catching where the boy was, one of the nannies move to remove him from the crib. It's futile though, the moment the woman is distracted with the other children, he climbs right back in.
Silas' twin, Oliver, the one with the actual wet hand, vindicates his brother by slapping the prince's lips with his free one, "don't say bad words!"
Daemon looks at the child-he-did-not-know-the-name-of. His only thought was at least the hand that slapped to his face wasn't wet.
"Go to your mother," Daemon commands.
Had it been anyone else, it would have struck fear in them, but the child does not recognize the threat at all, especially not when three of his female cousins come running to Daemon, making the man himself reel back in some semblance of fear.
It seems they finally found the comb and clips they needed to fix his hair with.
Fuck.
"PRINCE UNCLE!" one girl excitedly screams, shooing Oliver from away from Daemon. Oliver gleefully runs towards his darker haired cousins and engage in combat with pillows.
One nanny promptly scolds them when feathers explode everywhere.
Rebecca, or so he thinks that's her name, grins as she makes her way to Daemon's lap. Her older sister, Annaliese (?), runs behind him. The youngest among the three, Constance, he knew, sat on the other side of his lap next to her cousin.
All at once, Rebecca throws her curly, golden-brown locks behind her, making it splash against Daemon's face, adding to injury when her elbow hits the prince' jaw. Annaliese rips at Daemon's scalp, undoing the tie he had in his own silver-white hair, causing a groan to leave his lips. Constance bounces up and down Daemon's lap as she wraps her small arms around his torso and looked up at him with an adoring look.
Verdict, Daemon didn't know what to feel.
Meanwhile.
"Oh, I honestly thought you'd have kids by now!" my eldest sister, Elise nudges me, "with how hotly your prince eyes you-"
"You should have come back pregnant," our fifth born sibling, Catherine, cuts in scolding me, "I already bragged about your fertile womb to those stupid, big mouthed ladies at court."
"Sissy!" I cry out.
"They fucking deserved to be put in their place," Catherine growls, "don't they know how many children our mother sired?" she scoffs, "the audacity of those rats to call you barren just because you haven't gotten pregnant after a few months of marriage."
Elise rolls her eyes, "they're just jealous because their breast milk comes out like sand."
My jaw drops.
"Their cunts are probably drier than sandpaper," Catherine says in agreement.
Our youngest sibling, Gretta, and the only other girl amongst our siblings, makes a face and tries to halt the vulgar insults by telling me, "they're probably just jealous you snagged the prince and they didn't."
"Probably?!" Elise quips.
Catherine throws her head back in laughter, "those smelly cunts are maddened by the very idea."
My older sisters begin to fall into more trash talk. Gretta and I exchange knowing looks and take each other's hand before slowly walking away.
After we flee, I decide I am wholly ready to leave my house and all it's chaos.
"My love, I'm ready to- oh," my perky voice falls in shock when I see my husband's hair tangled up in multiple clips and ribbons. It seems the sneaky girls also got their hands on a bit of rouge, judging by the smeared red on his face.
"AUNTIE LOOK!" Frances (Rebecca) cries in joy as she stood beside her captive, affectionately hugging him, "WE MADE PRINCE UNCLE SO PRETTY!"
"FRANCES, DON'T!" Bethany (Annaliese) scolds her younger sister when she messes up her work, "YOU'RE RUINING MY RIBBONNNNNSSSS!"
"Girls, please, your cousin is asleep!" Daemon scolds weakly, cradling the little girl, Constance, in his arms.
Frances looks down on her cousin, "Oh," she leans down, "prince uncle, I can carry her into the crib if you like."
Daemon turns to Frances, bringing a finger to her face, stroking her cheek sweetly, "I'll do that myself," he turns to the other girl, "if," he drags out, "my lady sets me free."
Bethany takes Daemon's hollow cheeks into her warm hands. Daemon smiles at the sight of her gleaming eyes.
My lips pull into a pout and my hear soars at their exchange.
Bethany, then nodding to herself, turns to Frances, "we did good, sister!"
Frances squeals yet again, nearly choking Daemon as she embraces him tightly.
"Frances!" I finally intervene, amused face falling into concern, "you will behead the poor man at this point."
Frances turns to the said man and releases him slowly. Daemon catches his breath, smiling at the girl, impressed by her strength. He finally stands and brings Constance to the occupied crib where Silas and a baby he-did-not-know were napping.
Frances runs over to me, arms snaking around my skirt as much as her little limbs could, "auntie," she coos, "will you be staying for supper?"
I steal a look at Daemon who is now rubbing his face, unknowingly ruining the rouge he must have forgot he had on. This promptly triggers Bethany as she falls to her knees and mourns her craft, shrieking so loudly she could probably wake the dead.
Daemon, in his panic, promptly picks the girl up, like one would a bag, then runs out of the room, as not to make trigger the rest of the kids into similar shrieks. I watch as Bethany dangles horizontally by her torso in my husband's strong arm as she weeps into her hands.
I finally turn back to Frances after Daemon leaves the room, "sorry, little bug. Your prince uncle and I have to leave now if we wish to return to our home before dark."
Frances pouts at that. I lean down and kiss the girl's nose before leaving her in the nursery with the rest of the kids and their nannies.
I find Daemon in the hall, handing his weeping niece to her teenage brother, who was biting his lip for dear life, trying to hold back his laughter. He makes sure not to forfeit a dirty look at Thomas, but that does not hinder the giggles that still manage to escape his mouth.
Thomas walks away, carrying his sister in her arms, shushing her as he giggled.
Daemon jolts, hand instinctively reaching out for the absent sword in his belt when I come up to him with a grin. He melts against my touch when my thumbs begin to wipe away the redness on his face.
He pulls me close to him by my waist, hands rubbing my back to soothe me, though he actually does so to soothe himself. I giggle, "you would make a fine father."
"They make me eager to pull out," he notes, closing his eyes.
I lightly slap his cheek in a scolding manner.
I was still not done evening out the color on his face when he pushes past me and crushes me into an exasperated embrace, "I thought once I wanted many children after growing up with only one brother," he strokes my hair as he bends down and nuzzles on my neck, "now I cannot even bare the idea of having one."
I scrunch my face in distaste, "I will not be left childless, husband," I begin to take notice of the paraphernalia in his hair, "but," I decide to tease, "if you will not have me, then I shall ma-"
He squeezes me in his arms, lifting me up, causing me to squeak, "who says I will not have you?"
"My prince," a servant calls, making me crane my neck over to whom spoke.
Daemon begrudedly pulls away, giving the man an uninterested expression with a voice that matches, "yes?"
The prince's face contort tighter in annoyance when the servant's face tenses in reaction to what he saw. I see how his lips fight back laughter and the whole incident make me break into a giggle.
Daemon is wholly unamused, and shows it to the servant boy in particular, "it will hurt no less if I slit your throat in this moment," he barks, stepping forward without hesitation.
The servant flinches back.
I bring my hand up to his chest, giving him an annoyed look, "Daemon please."
He clenches his jaw and grips his hands but does not take another step.
"The boat is ready for you and your lady wife," the servant quickly tells, promptly bowing then rushing away.
"You should have let me bruised him at least," Daemon says scornfully.
I roll my eyes at his pouty face, "come now," I say working on removing the clips in his hair, "we must leave before Bethany sees your hair without her embellishments."
Daemon's brows knit as he looks down on me, "who's Bethany?"
The moment we arrive to our home, I finally feel the effects of entertaining the many members of my house the whole day.
I am unbelievably tired when I finally lie in bed in my favorite night gown. I am in fact too tired to even rise from my place and pull the covers over me.
"Pretty girl," I hear him before I see him. In fact I feel his hand climbing up my thigh before I see his face.
I lift my head up along with a brow as Daemon climbs up next to me only in his breeches. I lick my lips at the sight of his exposed skin and clean face. His mouth meets the skin beneath his hands.
"I thought you were exhausted, husband?"
He only hums as he positions himself between my legs, "never too tired for a good fuck, wife."
I allow my head to fall back on the bed as I laugh. I encourage him to do as he pleases when my hand scratches lightly at the roots of his freshly washed hair. Daemon kisses my supple flesh as he lifts my thighs over his shoulders.
He takes his time teasing me, lips gnawing at my skin. I release a sigh and rest my hands to my side, "you know my sisters were cross that I was not pregnant."
He chuckles, pushing my short skirt up, "I'm sure they were."
I moan when his lips meet my core. My body ignites after this.
I grip at the sheets when I feel his tongue dart out. I let out a breath, basking in the sensation. A thought however lands in my head and I cannot stop from asking it, "do you think perhaps something is a matter?"
Daemon stills, head rising from where it was tucked.
I, myself, rise on my elbows and pout, the expression further concerns the face between my legs. It however fades once I say, "maybe we're doing something wrong when we share company."
Daemon rolls his eyes, "you can just ask me to fuck you harder."
I yelp when his face sinks and he nibbles on my sensitive nub. I moan out his name like gospel, and as much as I don't want it to end, I wriggle in his grasp when I think of something else I need to say.
He uses his strength to force me still, wanting nothing but to devour me. I nearly cave and halt my actions, but I catch his attention when I whine his name out in a plea, "Daemon stop."
He is utterly irritated by this, "what is it now?"
I pout in annoyance, "maybe it's because you're too rough!"
Daemon rolls his eyes yet again.
"Daem-" I whine when his lips begin to move against me again, "think about it!"
Daemon's had enough.
He shoves my legs off him and heaves angrily. I move to sit up and give my husband a cautious look. He however manages to get on his knees and quickly yanks me back down, "shall I give you a lesson, my naïve little wife?"
I purse my lips together as he crawls over me, "I am not naïve. I am only saying that-"
Daemon sighs as he undoes his pants.
"- don't you think I should have been pregnant by now -"
He manages to rip them down while hovering over me.
"- considering how often you bed me?"
He throws his clothes off to the side and pulls my legs apart. We simultaneously moan when he enters me and I bring my hands to his nape, digging my nails into his skin.
Daemon presses a kiss on my lips as he adjusts my legs around him.
I expect him to give me a talking as he pounds into me, but I am only met with stillness and silence. And as much as I love the feeling of him in me like this, I begin to get impatient, "well?"
Daemon chuckles, "I'm teaching you a lesson, wife."
I narrow my eyes at him.
He relishes the deviant expression. He bucks his lips slowly, drawing out a moan from me. Daemon is utterly pleased.
He kisses my neck, hands going to my sides, "if you think my fucking is why you haven't fallen with child-"
I yelp when he quickly spins and rips me over him. I brace myself, hands ending up on his chest. I shift above him, making the both of us groan.
Daemon rubs my arms affectionately, taking in how the loose nightgown wrapped on my body. He fiddles with the lace, "fuck yourself on me then."
For a moment, his words make my belly roll in a wave of hot desire. But something else dawns on me when I see Daemon's hooded eyes. I break into a chuckle, he groans out as a consequence to it, "you're just tired, aren't you?"
His eyes darken. I chuckle yet again. I no longer laugh when he flicks his hips into to me roughly, "fucking move."
I hiss and lean into him, shooting him a glare of my own.
Unappreciative of my disobedience, he grabs my hips and glides me the opposite way of his thrusts, "if you do not move, I'll leave you restless and come all over your pretty face."
I whine at obscene notion.
"You wouldn't want my seed to go to waste, now, would you?" he croons, "don't you want me to get you pregnant?"
I moan as I push myself up and grab on his wrists, following his movements with my own thrusts.
He hisses, melting at my actions. Eventually he is still beneath me as I bounce on him. He praises me for finally listening, "that's it," he exhales, "up and down like a good girl."
I mewl at the sound of his deep voice. He digs at the sides of waist when I quicken my pace. At some point, he is unable too hold back from snapping himself into me. He groans as he does so and I reposition myself, allowing him to reach my sweet spot. I nearly drool when he does. I rip at my lower lip with my teeth and release a guttural sound, "Daemon."
He grunts, "yes, my love." His hands sneak under my dress and rubs my bare skin, "you're doing so good. Such a sweet, pretty girl."
I feel his hands on my belly. I roll my head back when his thumb circles on my wet nub.
His fingers dig into me, "you'll look so pretty carrying my child," he grunts, "mmm, fuck, always so ready for me."
My hands climb to his neck when he says this and I screw my eyes shut focusing on the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.
"Fuck," he drawls, absolutely aroused by the pressure on his throat, "harder," he commands.
Daemon awaits the added pressure but curses when there is none. He calls out my name, making me look down at him. I release a gasp when his hands press down on mine as he repeats, "harder, pretty girl."
I bite my lip and nod, constricting my hands on his throat just a fraction.
It seems to be enough as Daemon releases string of profanities before his hands come back to my hips. He pulls his legs up behind me and fucks into me with a renewed sense of vigor.
My voice bounces the same way my body does. I'm pretty sure I don't even move anymore as Daemon does all the work of slamming into me.
"Fuck, Daemon, don't stop," I whine, as I regain the brain to move against him.
Our own bed whines in distress over actions. The entire room is filled with lewd noises.
It's all a matter of time before it's all over.
I find myself pressing down on him when I come with a loud cry. I release such a breathy shudder that after, I lose my breath. I dig my fingers into his shoulders when I feel him follow after me the next second. I absolutely revel in the heat he burns into me, at the idea I could be carrying his seed soon.
Daemon's hands are ripping roughly at my flesh so hard, I practically feel them bruise. I couldn't care less though.
Yelps and moans continue to leave my lips up until we both crash against each other.
I gasp when I hear Daemon pant heavily after I release him from my grip. He is heaving for literal dear life.
"Daemon, are you alright?" I whine in concern.
He looks lightheaded and yet his lips curve into a smirk, "don't worry, my love, I'm more than alright."
I let out a sight of relief, pressing a kiss on his jaw. I rub my hands onto his face, his own rake my dress up and down my back.
"I do hope I get you pregnant this time," he mutters, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead, "I will not stop until I do." He rubs his cheek against my head, "we should go again for good measure."
I grunt at the thought at maneuver off him.
He growls, pressing a kiss on whatever he could get his lips on, unwilling to release me.
"Daemon," I warn emptily.
"What?" he mutters, finding my neck. He licks my skin before biting down, "you enjoy this."
I moan and push him off, "that's the point! You're tired."
When I'm off him, laying to his side, he chuckles darkly and climbs over me.
"Daemo-"
"I'm never too tired for a good fuck."