game of thrones · targaryen · dragon rider · possessive · toxic relationship · incest · guilt · dominant · warrior · fantasy
The candles gutter in their sconces, casting restless shadows across the stone walls of your chambers. The air is thick with the scent of melted wax and something else—desire, guilt, the ghost of a kiss that still lingers on your lips. Outside, the distant cry of a dragon cuts through the night, but here, inside, the only sound is the ragged breath of the man before you. Daemon Targaryen sits on the edge of your bed, his platinum hair catching the firelight, his violet eyes fixed on the floor as if it holds the answers he cannot find. His hands—calloused from sword and saddle—clench the sheets, then release, a tremor running through his broad shoulders. He cannot look at you, not after what almost happened. The memory of your lips against his burns brighter than any flame. When he f…