#For Your Eyes Only | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

Text

❤For Your Eyes Only❤

Email 1: "Don't be ridiculous, Daddy. Give them your card." | Masterlist

CC: [email protected]; [email protected]; @pinksirensong; @aralezinspace; @sloanexx; @deniixlovezelda; @targaryenmoony; @risefallrise; @slavyanskiyahui; 🔪DO NOT OPEN THIS EMAIL ON YOUR WORK COMPUTER🔪 Dear Aemma, Daemon just called me poor for wearing jeans and a t-shirt outside. AND I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO SAY, little miss allergic-to-low-quality-fabric, but damn, I was going to the SUPERMARKET! With Love ❤

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, sugar daddy themes, smut (man handling, choking, degradation kink, humiliation kink, vaginal penetration, hair pulling, fingering), elitism/classism, fashion police!Daemon, Daemon 'im too rich to be working in the office' Targaryen, fluff, slice of life, typos, etc.

"Daemon, you need something?"

Daemon turns from the computer on his desk to over his shoulder. His face contorts as he looks me up and down, "what are you wearing?"

He swivels on his office chair as I walk up to the counter behind him to get my keys, "I'm going to the supermarket."

"No," he furrows his brows, "I asked what are you wearing."

I stop in my tracks, looking at him as his lips curl in disgust. I make a face and shrug, "jeans and a shirt."

"That you slept in," his forehead wrinkles. I look to, yes, the shirt I wore last night as he digs his heels into the floor, rolling his chair towards me. Once he is in front of me, he grabs my left thigh and squeezes it.

"I took a shower last night," I raise a brow as he rubs my denim clad flesh. I brush his silver blonde hair back, "in case you've forgotten, you were there."

His hands dig into my waistband, fingers fidgeting with the button.

"Daemon-"

"You have to change," he mutters, looking up at me with his violet eyes.

I raise a brow, "change huh?"

I push him off when he undoes my button and fly. His chair rolls back slightly. He repels the motion by tugging himself forward by my leg. His chair rolls forward. He bites my hips through my clothes.

"Daemon, later."

He hums and lifts my shirt to bite my skin. I grunt at the feel of his teeth. He mumbles hotly against me, "I'm serious about you changing though." Daemon leans on his back rest, hands still on my thigh. He rubs me up and down, "this is a crime against humanity."

I roll my eyes.

"You look like you can't afford convenience store snacks."

I scoff, "WOW."

He shakes his head in disdain, "you look like you work for minimum wage."

"FIRST OF ALL," I shriek in annoyance, "who are the fucks that refuse to increase wages so that people like us can actually look nicer?"

Daemon narrows his brows, "I don't employ minimum wage workers."

"You mean you don't give a shit," I swat him off.

He releases me and sighs. He waves his hands around, "what's with the people like us business?"

Daemon waits for me to respond but I don't.

"You're mine," he points, "you're my person. There are no other people like you."

I snort and roll my eyes yet again. Regretfully though, could not hold back the chuckle that leaves me.

Daemon smirks, utterly pleased with himself, which was why he rolls back to this desk without a care, not that he ever actually cared, "go change."

I look at him and knit my brows, "you can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm serious," he turns to me, "I don't need to see another photograph of you online looking like a homeless person."

Sigh. The repercussions of dating a nepo baby.

"Daemon, the paparazzi don't take photos of me if you're not there."

He hums as he turns back to his PC and moves his mouse around, mumbling under his breath, "tell that to the journalists blackmailing me with pictures of you."

I freeze. Blackmailing? "What?"

Daemon's clicking stops. He stills then slowly turns to me.

"W-what kind of pictures-"

"Just ugly ones where you look homeless," he leans back with a stoic face.

I am rigid in my spot.

He sighs then stands. He wraps his arms around me from behind. He leans down to kiss my neck and squeezes me tightly, "it's nothing compromising," he brushes my hair back, "they just want to extort as much money as they can from me by captioning your pictures with bullshit about how badly you dress as the lover of some old money dickhead."

I release a breath. He brushes his nose against my cheek. I turn to him and give him a look, "I'm just going to the supermarket."

"I know," he purses his lips, "but I bought you all those dresses to wear, not to store."

I raise a brow, "you want me to wear designer dresses to the supermarket?"

He lets me turn to face him as he licks his lips, "no, I want you to wear designer dresses everywhere."

"Pfft," I blow a raspberry, "even at home?"

"Especially at home," he nips at my lips, making me squeak and pull away. Daemon grins as his hands scour down my body. He squeezes me tightly as he says, "wanna see your pretty arse in the shit I buy."

I roll my eyes exaggeratedly as he chuckles like a cheeky school boy.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," he holds back his smile, "my man brain likes to see my woman in the clothes I picked out for her."

I press my lips together, fighting my own smile back, "ah... you picked them out, huh? You didn't just buy the first thing you saw and asked for it in my size?"

"What does it matter if it was the first thing I saw?" he looks down at my breasts and begins to massage them, "I still picked it."

I sigh but break into laugh. I swat him off and turn back, "fine," I walk away, "if you're so repulsed by jeans, then I'll change, your highness."

Daemon bites his lip and slaps my ass, prompting him to shoot him a dirty look, "unfortunately, my dear, you've got me so pussy drunk-"

I groan at his crassness.

"-I'd find you attractive even if you were covered in shit."

"Nah," I wave a hand, "you're just a kinky troll."

He laughs.

I rub my wrists together, spreading the perfume, as I walk out of my bedroom and head to the living room. I find Daemon's bored and hardened face staring blankly at his computer screen.

I snort at his clenched jaw and crossed arms. The clicking sound of my pumps reverberate in the silent room as I head over to him.

Before I reach his desk, he turns to me and immediately perks.

I smile at him as he straightens up in his chair; his hands move to his armrest. Knowing he was in the middle of an online meeting, I point to the door and mouth, 'I'm going out'.

He turns to his computer screen once then back to me, raising a hand. I shift on my spot, placing a hand on my hip as I watch him type away on his keyboard.

Two clicks later, he stands and rips out the wireless earphones from his ears. He places them on his desk and walks over to me.

I raise a brow and bring my arms to the side, "meeting's done?"

"No," he huffs, grabbing my arm, "but I sure did want an excuse to leave that fucking meeting."

Daemon pulls me into his chest and rubs my sides. The silk of my dress is smooth to the touch and it makes him smirk, "don't remember buying this for my pretty fucktoy."

I grunt then sneer at him, grabbing his jaw with my manicured nails, "that's because I bought it for myself."

Daemon smirks at that and bites at my hand, prompting me to pull away.

"Yuck," I say flatly as I wipe his saliva on his shoulder.

He steps back and brushes his hands down my bare arms. He brings one hand overhead and spins me around, eyes raking my body intently. He hisses as the skirt flares as I twirl, a teasing glimpse of my stockings-clad thighs eliciting it. Daemon pulls me back into his chest, hand on the small of my back as he nods, "very good."

I smile back at him, "well, I have good taste."

Daemon's lip curve and his eyes narrow. He fiddles with the thin chain necklace on my neck, one of the many he's gotten me, "and how much was this dress, pretty girl?"

I purse my pink painted lips. I fawn naivete, "pretty girls don't look at prices, daddy."

He chuckles deeply and grits his teeth, one hand coming to my hair, pulling my head back slowly, "daddy's card is not a toy, cupcake," he nuzzles into the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent. I knew how much he loved the smell of the perfume on me.

I whimper as I wrap my arms around him for support as he pushes me back. I let out a soft sigh when he bites down on my skin. Still, I manage to retort, "but you like it when I play with you."

His hot breath tickles me as he chuckles, "byka rene," little slut.

Daemon pulls back, a smirk playing on his lips as he says, "you're right. I like it when my stupid whore taunts me so I can make her cry."

My stomach rolls when he begins to bunch up my skirt in his hands.

"Tell me," he knits his brows, pretending to be serious, "where are you going again, dressed up like a perfect little slut?"

He digs his hands into the waistband of my stockings and yanks then down, "mmm, to pick up that shit from your parents."

I release a breath as his hands circle around my hips beneath my dress.

He raises his brows.

I place my hands on his shoulders, "t-the mall."

I simultaneously shudder and yelp as he thoughtlessly pushes me aside like a ragdoll and releases me in front of his desk. My heels skid on the floor and I nearly trip on my feet. Thankfully, I crash into his table and my hands on the surface keep me upright.

Daemon rips my stockings down to my ankles then turns me over. My hands dart to his chest and I push him back back with a grunt, successfully evading his kiss. He tenses with confusion.

"Please, don't ruin my makeup," I shake my head, "I spent hours on it. Don't wanna do it all over again."

He pulls his head back in evident offence and chuckles dryly, jaw slacking, brows raising.

I feel my lungs constrict as his hold tightens on my airways. He roughly begins to rip at my clothing.

I yelp when he flips me back over and shoves me forward. I hit his PC and his keyboard which knocks into the mouse, making it fall off the desk. My breathing strains when he pulls me back with a hand to my throat. He huffs hotly against my ear, "you think a brat like you can act out and get her way, mmm?"

"Please don't, please, please, please, please-" I trail off, using the last remaining breath I had to convince him. Soon, I begin to feel lightheaded that I have to dig into his clutch.

I catch my breath when Daemon finally loosens his grip and rips my panties down.

"Please, please, please Daemon. I really don't wanna-"

I continue my desperate pleas as his hand finds my slickened folds, fingers firmly rubbing the area. My body reacts instantly to his familiar touch.

"Enough," he barks, hand ripping away from my core to slap my ass. He releases my neck and shoves me forward. My abdomen roughly collides with the edge of the desk, even though my hands took in a great force of his blow.

"Spoiled bitch," he mutters under his breath as he frees himself from his pants.

I make a sound when he grabs my hips and begins to carelessly pound into me, intent on making a point with his roughness.

I whimper when he pulls my hair back; my hand comes to his wrist on instinct. Daemon grunts and he pants into my ear, "with all the fucking money you spend on makeup," thrust, thrust, thrust, "it should at least be able to withstand a good fuck, don't you think?"

"D-Da-"

"I'm not done speaking, brat," he cuts me off by pulling my hair.

I feel my eyes begin to water at his apathy and brutish movements. Yet, at the same time, I feel my thighs quiver with welcomed electricity.

He hums, "should I take it out on your skanky dress if I can't ruin your lipstick?"

My lips quiver, "p-please don't."

"Say something?" he mocks.

"Daemon, please."

"Louder."

"Please don't, Daemon."

He releases my hair. I lean forward on my hands. His finger dig into my my hips, "beg."

I huff as my toes curl in my heels, "please, Daemon."

"I can't he-"

"PLEASE."

He huffs.

I squeal when he touches my clit. "And what exactly are you begging for?"

"W-wanna... wanna come."

I let out a sound at one of his particularly rough thrusts.

"Greedy whore," he groans, "such a taker. Are you a gold digger?"

My body feels heavy with his ministrations on my clit. I catch my breath as I feel my imminent high build.

Daemon's hand rubs up my to my breasts, which he then squeezes. He leans into my shoulder, "I asked you a question, sweetheart," he kisses my skin, "are you gold digger?"

I huff through my nose and gulp, "n-no."

"Wrong," his hands go to my hips again, "you are a gold digger. Now say it or I'll come on your dress."

"I'm- I'm a-"

Before I can finish my thought, my knees buckle and I come undone against him. I feel myself clench around him, and he in turn takes a hand to my neck and rips me back against him. I let out a sound as my belly tightens and flutters.

"Well?" he asks impatiently as I whine.

He nips at my ear, "good girl."

"Mm- m'a go'digger- ma gol' d--"

With that, Daemon releases a lewd sound against my neck as he spasms against me. I squeal as I feel his heat spill into me and my thighs begin to shake.

Once we've both calmed down, I hear Daemon gulp as he catches his breath and pulls out of me.

I whine as he does this, leaning into his desk. He carelessly walks back to his computer and tucks himself in his pants, plopping down on his office chair.

I give him a look as he smirks at me and mutters, "makeup still looking good, babe."

I feel a wetness drip down the side of my thighs as I straighten up. I huff and gather my skirt as I bend down and pull my stockings up so I could actually walk off.

Daemon watches as I waddle away, "you're dripping you know."

"Yes, thank you," I quip dryly.

He smirks and leans back on his chair, "that good, aye?"

"Shut the fuck up."

He chuckles as he picks up his mouse, "fucking make me."