Chapter Text
It was embarrassing.
She hadn’t had one of those in years now. When was the last time? Was she eight, or ten? Whatever age it was, she was young and it was acceptable to be disturbed by a nightmare when you're a kid. But now she was eighteen, okay, she might’ve had her birthday just last week but it didn’t change the fact that she could be considered an adult!
So, when she woke up gasping from that nightmare, her whole face drenched in sweat, her hands trembling, Daenerys was humiliated by how badly shaken she was. She began crying on her bed, not knowing why, but not knowing how to stop this. She was embarrassed by how much this affected her. And how badly she wanted her mother to comfort her.
It was a dumb idea, she was very well aware of it, but she still slipped into her sandals and made her way to her mother’s room. She knew where to walk even if it was dark because she grew up running to her mother whenever she got scared at night. Her mum would rock her back and forth, hug her, coo sweet nothings into her ear and they’d fall asleep together.
She didn’t know if she expected her to do the same thing now but to the very least, she wanted to talk to someone about the nightmare. Biting her lip nervously, Dany stood next to her mother’s King-sized bed and gently nudged her shoulder.
The woman groaned.
“Mum,” Daenerys tried.
“What?” Her mother croaked out.
“I had a nightmare,” she whispered.
“…And?”
“I can’t sleep. I’m scared.”
“Daenerys,” the woman sighed, “just go to sleep. You’ll be fine.”
“But I can’t sleep,” she insisted, “I can’t close my eyes without seeing—”
“Seeing what? A bloody monster? You’re eighteen, Daenerys, act your age.” She was whisper-yelling at her now and Daenerys felt like a fool for being here, hurt and ashamed.
“What’s going on?” A deeper voice asked.
In the dark, Daenerys caught a glimpse of her stepfather moving on the bed, awoken by this little scene. Even further embarrassed now, Daenerys shook her head to herself and said, “it’s nothing.”
But her mother huffed and went on to say, “she’s being a baby, that’s what. Telling me about nightmares." She chuffed. "Grow up, Dany.”
Daenerys felt like she wanted to cry.
Much to her surprise, her stepdad wasn’t as aggravated by her presence as her mother had been. “It’s okay,” he mumbled in the dark, “I can talk to her a bit.”
“Whatever,” the woman grumbled, “just let me sleep.”
“Do you want to go out and talk, Dany?” Jon asked softly.
Daenerys found herself saying, “yes,” before she knew what she was doing.
He was probably just doing it to win her over. These two had gotten married five months ago and Daenerys was not warming up to him as quickly as he wished. Still, Daenerys didn’t care what was the reason for him to be getting out of bed, throwing on a shirt and walking out with her. She just needed to speak with somebody, and she’d be fine.
Perhaps it was because Jon was a pretty man, with his dark eyes, dark hair, luscious mouth, nicely trimmed beard, that she could never see him as a father figure. Her biological father was a fat, bald man who spent every day he was alive on the couch watching football. Jon was a businessman, he wore nice suits that made the muscles in his arms pop out and his smile was really attractive and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why someone like him wanted to marry someone like her mother, a moody, dull woman who yelled more than she spoke.
Jon took Daenerys to the kitchen, switching on the light. Even sleepy, he was so sexy. It wasn’t wrong to think that, right? She was a woman, after all, and she had perfect eyesight. Jon’s dishevelled hair and lazy smile were heart-melting. Not to mention he was only wearing a white shirt and a pair of grey boxers. Nope, she was not going to look down. Maybe just a glimpse but that was it. “I’ll get you a glass of water and you can tell me what happened,” he rasped, then cleared his throat.
Daenerys sat on one of the stools and toyed with the hem of her shirt. “It was dumb, really. I dreamed that I was a queen—”
He chuckled.
She blushed. “You’ll just laugh harder when I tell you what happened next,” she muttered.
He shook his head as he took out a glass from the cabinet. “Won’t laugh again, I swear,” he told her solemnly. Daenerys appreciated the effort.
She continued, “and that there was a war, and I think I started burning people alive.”
“Um, like, with torches?”
“Oh, no, I had a dragon.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” She felt more and more like an idiot as the seconds passed by. The dream was obviously dumb, like something out of a TV show people would most likely hate because it made no sense kind of dumb, and the more she spoke of it, the more she began to question why exactly it frightened her so. “And I think I had a boyfriend in it….”
“Like, a King?” he asked, filling the glass with water.
“I think,” she mumbled, the details evading her. “But anyway, before I could sit on, like, the throne…he killed me. Stabbed me to death.”
“Was it because you were burning people alive?”
“I don’t know.” She narrowed her eyes at him, “are you making fun of me?”
“Gods, no, it’s a serious question.” He smiled at her.
Daenerys sighed. “It felt so real. Have you ever had one of those dreams, where it feels strangely vivid? It's like, I could feel the knife in my heart, you know?”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” he answered seriously, bringing the glass of water over to her. “Perhaps it’s something from another life.”
She raised a brow but said nothing. At least he wasn’t openly making fun of her, even if he probably thought she was a weirdo for this deep down. “Thank you,” she said for the water, grabbing it from his hand, her fingers accidentally brushing against his, their eyes meeting. Her eyes were still puffy from having cried when she awoke. When Jon looked at her, she could tell he noticed. Her cheeks warmed up even more. She knew the next day, he would probably be having a laugh about this with her mother, mocking her eighteen-year-old daughter who was pathetically crying because of a nightmare. Gods, this was getting even more embarrassing.
But his eyes only softened at her, no judgmental glint in them.
“You look shaken up,” he noted. “Come, you can sleep in our room for a few minutes.”
She scoffed as she finished drinking. “Mum will kick me out.”
Jon’s lips quirked. “She doesn’t have to know, the bed is large enough for, like, four people. Once you feel better, you can go back to your room.”
Daenerys bit her lip. “Are you sure?”
He offered his hand. “Certain. Come on.”
Daenerys slipped her palm into his, a weird sensation seeping into her bones when their skins touched. “Thank you.”
ıllıllııllıllı
She settled between them, like she was their baby or something. Her mother’s back was turned to her, for which Daenerys was glad because she was mad at her for the moment and did not wish to look upon her face. Jon pulled the covers above them and Dany felt the bed dip as he slid in next to her, his chest close to her back.
“Good night,” she whispered to him, “I’ll be gone soon, don’t worry.”
“Take all the time you need,” he whispered back and she felt his breath against the back of her neck.
“Can you hug me?” she blurted. This was what she wanted from her mother, but she turned her down and Jon did not seem like a bad alternative.
He paused for a second. “Sure,” he said right back.
Jon’s arm was a nice weight on her waist. She felt warm and secure. She decided it was better than her mother’s hugs, so she snuggled back into him further, smiling as she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. “It was just a dream,” he whispered to her.
Daenerys stayed awake, eyes wide open in the dark as she listened to him breathe. His intakes and outtakes of oxygen stabilised with time, indicating he'd fallen asleep, and she decided that liked the rhythm. Mostly, she liked feeling his hot breath on her neck and his fingers sprawled protectively over her stomach. The cotton material of her oversized shirt was thin, so it was like he was touching her bare skin.
That thought brought forward more like these. She thought of all the times she found him attractive. Like the other day when he was cleaning the pool, sweat gathered on his abs, hair tied back so it would not annoy him. Or all the times she brought him coffee to his office. He would stare at the computer, his jaw flexing, a pair of glasses perched on his sharp nose. She always had a thing for men in glasses. And, secretively, she wished he found her hot too. Especially when she wore her skimpy skirts to school, and sometimes, she did feel his gaze linger on her back. She never thought much of it—until now. Until something was blooming between her thighs.
Tentatively, she put her hand over his. He didn’t budge. His hand is so big. She suppressed a shudder at the thought of his thick, long fingers inside of her. Gods. She lost her virginity to some dumb boy last year, it was wet, weird and uncomfortable. She knew how to pleasure herself and didn’t often fantasise about men but, now, she was. Out of all men, she was having fantasies about her stepfather! She began imagining his fingers pumping in and out of her. With his nose buried in her hair and his slow, steady breaths fanning over the nape of her neck, it was easy to get lost in these thoughts.
Moisture gathered between her legs, a dull throb forming, her nightmare forgotten. Even in the dark, Daenerys could see her mother’s silver hair.
Sickeningly enough, she felt no shame in her twisted fantasies, not even with her mother fast asleep inches away from her. She was soaking wet—and needed friction to get rid of her little problem.
Unwittingly, her hips gyrated in a slow circle, frustration building inside of her as the dampness in her cunt grew. She could just get up and leave, go to her bedroom, play with herself or use one of the sex toys she’d bought online which were hidden under her bed, but Jon’s body felt so nice against hers and playing with his fingers made her hornier.
She knew she should not, she knew it was sick, but she grinded her hips a bit harder. Pushing back.
A soft grunt reached her ears and sent shivers straight to her pulsating cunt.
“Dany?” Jon’s voice was gravelly with sleep, confusion evident in the tone he used. “W-what are you doing?”
She didn’t reply, forced her eyes shut as she continued to move her ass against his cock. She felt it now. It was growing hard against her movements. When she felt it twitch against her lower back, she almost came.
“Dany,” he said again. Louder this time. Understanding what was happening.
“Please,” she whimpered, gripping his hand tighter, refusing to let him go.
She needed him so badly. Daenerys had no idea how things escalated this fast but she was so horny, she was going crazy with it. “No,” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. She leaned back, hoping he would kiss her skin. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Yes,” she said, “yes, I’m out of my mind. I want you so bad. Please, please.” She'd never begged before and realised how pitiful it sounded but she didn't care, not one bit.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he seethed at her, trying to still her moving hips but she wouldn’t let him.
He could, though. He was stronger than her. He could take his hand out of her grasp, push her away, call her mother. He had many options to get out of this situation, but he only settled on whispering how wrong this was, how crazy she was, all while not putting much effort to stop her at all. He wants me too, she realised. His cock was throbbing already.
“Please, fuck me,” she whispered. “Won’t tell mummy.”
“That’s—seven fucking hells, do you—do you know how wrong this is? I’m your—”
“Not my father,” she spat, “you’ll never be my father.”
To prove her point, she lifted her shirt and guided his hand along her toned thighs. His breath hitched in his throat, surely only now realising she wasn’t wearing shorts underneath. Just a pair of thin, pink cotton panties. She brought his fingertips to her mound, groaning. “Do you feel how wet I am? My dad would never get me this wet. Please, Jon. I need your cock so badly.”
She pressed his fingers against the damp material, making him draw patterns over her soaked crotch. The friction was good, but it was not enough. She needed more—so much more. She slowly let go of his hand. He never took his away, still rubbing gentle circles over her drenched cunt. Daenerys grinned to herself at the small victory.
“You really are wet,” he muttered, “soaked, actually.”
She hummed, bucking against his fingers. “Yes,” she confirmed. “All for you.” She was mindless with lust now, words pooling out of her mouth without her control. She didn’t care.
“Let me feel you properly. Take those panties off,” he ordered gruffly.
They were off her legs the next second as she kicked her ankles, letting them fall on the side of the bed. She opened her legs for him and his hand went back home, touching her now bare cunt. She was glad she just waxed yesterday. She was smooth and plump for him, ready to be fucked. His fingertips ran along her puffy lips, collecting wetness as they went. Daenerys moaned as he toyed with her slit, only pushing the very tips of his digits inside her walls, searching for her clit, massaging around the little bundle of nerves without giving her what she desired. “You’re so dirty,” he breathed heavily into her ear, catching the lobe between his sharp teeth, “was this your plan all along, hm? Pretend to have a nightmare so you could sneak in here and tease me?”
No, it wasn’t. The nightmare was very much real. But she did not care about that now, did not care about anything other than the feeling of his fingers strumming her clit. She moaned softly in response. “Only dirty little sluts would do this,” he growled into her ear.
Her hips jerked.
“Oh? You like that, don’t you? Of course, you do.” He huffed what sounded like a groan and a laugh. Jon slid his middle finger into her tight heat and used his thumb to gently tap on her swollen clit. She was leaking all over the bed already, fucking the intrusive finger. “I see you walking around the house wearing those slutty dresses and skirts. They were for me, weren’t they? You like being called a dirty little slut, hm? My dirty little slut?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, “I love it.”
“You’ll call me daddy from now on.” Another finger slid in, his rhythm picking up. “Is that understood, are you daddy’s little whore?”
“Yes.” She felt like she could combust at any moment now. It was too much, his fingers making squelching sounds as he fucked her little cunt, the filthy words he was whispering in her ear, his hard cock nestled against her ass... She felt like she was dreaming, this was too good, too hot, too naughty to be real. “Daddy,” she whined, “please, fuck me.”
“Aren’t you ashamed of asking me this? Your mother is just next to us.”
She’d momentarily forgotten that but now that she remembered, she grew even more aroused, if that was a possibility. The notion of her waking up, turning around to find her daughter sprawled open with her new husband’s fingers fucking her pussy…. “Oh gods,” Daenerys moaned, her eyes screwed shut, her inner walls convulsing around his digits.
“I felt this,” he hissed into her ear, wriggling his fingers deeper inside of her channel, making her gasp, “you want us to get caught, huh?”
She bit her lip to contain her moans.
When Jon took his fingers away, she almost groaned in protest. Her cunt felt empty without him. She wanted to look at him but she could only trust her sense of hearing—she heard shuffling behind her and then a hand was drawing her close again. He’d taken his boxers off. Daenerys gasped as she felt his cockhead rub her slit from behind, coaxing him with her slick juices.
She reached down to her throbbing clit, rubbing at it furiously but his other hand took hold of her wrist, moving it away. “Let me take care of that for you,” he whispered into her ear. “Just watch over your mother. Make sure she doesn’t see this, or she’ll probably die of a heart attack.”
She never thought she’d be fucking her stepfather in her mother’s bedroom as he spoke of her dying of a heart attack, but life leads you down strange paths sometimes.
Her thighs quaked with an impending orgasm as Jon tapped on her clit with his swollen head, letting her grind the overstimulated nub on his cock. He let her play for a few moments before grunting, “I need to be inside you now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispered hastily.
“You want daddy’s cock inside of you?”
“Mhm, yes. Yesss.”
“Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how desperate you are.”
“I need you so bad, daddy. I wish you could fill me up, I would want your cum dripping out of me tomorrow while mum makes breakfast. She’ll never know a thing. She’ll never suspect you’ve fucked me the night before, that I'm tighter than her, better than h—ahh, yes, that’s it.”
He slipped inside of her with ease, given how wet she was. The moment his cock filled her to the hilt, she let out something between a sob and a moan. His hand slapped over her mouth but it was too late, the sound was already out in the air, echoing around the room.
Daenerys clamped her mouth shut, biting on her tongue hard enough to draw blood as she saw her mother twitch next to them.
“Fuck,” Jon uttered against the back of her head and managed to draw the blanket over them, up to their chins.
Daenerys’ mother stirred, stretched her arms and glanced to the side. She noticed her. “Daenerys?” she asked. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Told you,” Daenerys whispered, her heart pounding so fast and hard she feared the entire country could hear it, “the nightmare was so bad, I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you decide to sleep in our bed?” Her mother hissed at her. “Jon, are you alright? Is she bothering you?”
Jon, who was pretending to be asleep even if his cock was buried inside her, opened his eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah, no, it’s fine. I invited her to sleep here. I heard it helps to sleep next to people you love to help calm yourself down after a nightmare.” She could feel her wetness drool down their thighs and onto the mattress.
The oblivious woman next to them chuckled. “That’s sweet, you have enough patience to be a good dad,” she said, “But you should get back to your room soon, Dany. This is still weird for a big girl like you.” With a yawn, she turned back to her initial position.
For a while, they remained like this, waiting until they could hear her snore before Jon began thrusting into her. Slowly. “You need to keep quiet now.”
She hummed, meeting the quick snap of his hips. She grew annoyed with the cover so she threw it away, off the bed, hooking her leg around his so the angle was deeper. He was hitting all the right places, her whole body shuddering as he slammed into her. “You’re so tight and wet. Fuck,” he said into her hair, his hand shimmying under her shirt and slid up her stomach to fondle with her right breast, “you feel so good around my cock, baby.”
The bed squeaked a bit, but Daenerys was too busy chasing her peak to care. Her mother could see them and that would not stop her from coming around his cock now. The high of her climax enveloped her as Jon plowed into the back of her pussy with deep thrusts now. “I’m so close,” she sobbed as he tweaked her nipple. “I’m going to come, daddy.”
“Yes. Fuck. Come for me, Dany, you feel so—so good, gods. Nothing compares.” Her pussy began convulsing around his hard shaft at his praising words whispered harshly into her mane of moon-kissed hair.
He pulled out just in time as she shuddered, his fingers replacing his cock, rubbing quickly on her clit as she orgasmed. She could feel the squirts of his release on her back, on her ass, and most definitely drenching the sheets too. Daenerys’ body fell limp on the bed, face drenched in sweat, her pussy tingling nicely.
Daenerys turned to him, even if she could not see him. Their laboured breathing synced. “She was right,” Dany declared, “you’re a good dad.”
They both chuckled at how fucked up this was.