#lovely ange

[happilyhertale]

It must have been a really good pussy! 😄

I'm glad you liked it 🥰

Advent Desires – Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You are spending the evening with your friend Aemond. But you are bored while Aemond is absorbed in his book – but you have your ways of getting his attention.

Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.4k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The winter evening settles over the city like a soft blanket, muffling the sounds of distant traffic and the occasional hum of wind against the window. Advent candles flicker on the side table, their tiny flames dancing with every shift in the air. Holly leaves are scattered around the room, a festive touch you had insisted on despite Aemond's indifference to holiday decorations.

He sits in the armchair by the window, an oversized wool sweater draped over his sharp frame. A well-worn book rests in his hands, his long fingers absently turning a page as his good eye scans the text. The glow from the nearby string of fairy lights cast soft shadows across his chiseled features, highlighting his sharp jawline and the silver strands of his cropped hair that fell just slightly out of place.

You lie sprawled on the couch, a blanket over your legs, flipping aimlessly through your phone. TikToks and Instagram stories can't hold your attention tonight, and every now and then, you glance over at Aemond, hoping he’d notice you.

He doesn‘t.

"You know," you say, breaking the silence, "it’s not very festive of you to spend Advent reading an old book."

Without looking up, he replies, "It’s not very festive of you to complain about it."

You sigh dramatically, stretching your arms over your head. The hem of your sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin that catches his attention, even if he tries to pretend it doesn’t. His eye flickers up for the briefest moment before returning to the page.

"I’m bored," you groan, rolling onto your side to face him.

"Then entertain yourself," Aemond says, though there is a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Sliding off the couch, you pad across the room, stopping just behind his chair. Leaning over, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your chin on his head, breathing in the faint scent of cedarwood and the crispness of the cold that still lingers on him from earlier.

"What are you even reading?" you ask, glancing down at the page.

He tilts the book slightly so you can see the title. The Art of War.

"Seriously?" you ask, incredulous. "That’s what you choose to read during the holidays?"

"Why not?" He closes the book deliberately, setting it down on the armrest. His hands are free now, and you suddenly wish you hadn’t pushed him quite so far. There is a glint in his eye—mischievous, calculating.

"I can think of better ways to spend an evening," you say, straightening up, but before you can move away, Aemond catches your wrist.

"Better ways, hmm?" His voice is low, smooth, and edged with amusement.

His grip is firm but not rough as he tugs you down into his lap. The movement catches you off guard, and you gasp softly, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. His smile widens slightly at your reaction, the kind of smile that is more about power than warmth.

"You’re awfully restless tonight," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers linger, tracing a line down to your jaw.

"Maybe I’m just trying to get your attention," you murmur.

"Well, now you have it."

Before you know it, his hand is in your hair, his long fingers interweaving the strands. He tugs gently, just enough to tilt your head back and expose your neck. A spark of heat flares through you, your breath catching as you meet his intense gaze.

"Aemond," you whisper, unsure if it is a warning or a plea.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks. "Still bored?"

The holly leaves on the mantle catches your eye for a brief moment, a festive witness to the sudden shift in the room's energy. The teasing pull of his hand in your hair sends a shiver down your spine, and when his lips ghosted over your jawline, you can't hold back the quiet sigh that escapes you.

The advent candles flicker again, their light throwing soft shadows on the wall. Outside, the wind howles faintly, but in this moment, all you can hear is the sound of his breath mingling with yours as the tension between you grew thicker.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you properly. "Satisfied now, or shall I keep going?"

Your reply is a mix of laughter and a daring smirk, your fingers tightening slightly on his sweater. "What do you think?"

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rich, as his hand tangles deeper into your hair. "I think," he says, his lips brushing yours, "you’d better be careful what you wish for."

You giggle as he leans in again and kisses you. But your giggling dies away as the kiss becomes more passionate. His hands slide to your hips and reposition you until you straddle him. You gasp slightly, your hands slide into his soft hair, pulling gently, drawing a growl from him.

Slowly, he pushes you closer to him, and his hands slide over your ass, guiding your movements. You feel his length pressing against you, only the fabric of his and your sweatpants separating you... but still you feel his cock twitching impatiently. Aemond starts to pull on your sweatpants, “Let's get these out of the way,” he mutters, and you nod eagerly.

You help him, and without much delay, your sweatpants are on the floor. You whimper as Aemond pulls down your sweatpants enough to release his erection. He pumps a few times and you watch his hand slide up and down his twitching length.

“Look how hard you make me... and I just wanted to read a book in peace,“ he mutters, and you bite your lip.

”Somehow I'm not sorry for it,” you whisper a little breathlessly and start grinding your pussy against him.

He growls as he feels how soaked your panties already are.

Your hands slide to the back of his neck as you whimper impatiently again. Aemond pushes your panties aside and lets his fingers slide through your wet slit until he reaches your nerve bundle and leaves circular movements. You moan and move your hips against his fingers.

You move your hips up and down, taking him deeper inside you, and you whimper. His thumb is still rubbing your clit as your hips slam against his. You completely soak his length, your juices dripping onto his balls.

He slides his cock against your opening while continuing to rub your clitoris. Slowly, he pushes upwards, again and again against your opening. Teasing you until the tip of his cock is covered with your juices.

“Gods, you're so wet,” he murmurs a little breathlessly.

“Aemond,” you gasp impatiently, your fingers digging into his neck. And then Aemond thrusts up, feeling your tightness giving way to his length.

He growls, “Fuck,“ as you push your hips down. You moan, your pussy fluttering around his cock, protesting the intrusion.

He leans in and kisses you roughly, while you slide your hand back into his hair, touch the softness and pull on it again. He groans and pulls away from your lips, pressing his face into the curve of your neck and biting you. You cry out as you feel the light sting.

You lean your forehead against his, your panting breaths mixing as he thrusts up, following your movements.

He feels your pussy start to clenches uncontrollably around his length and he grunts, starting to move faster, thrusting deep into you.

Your legs remain wrapped around his hips as you try to take him deeper. Aemond's teeth dig in deeper and you throw your head back and moan without a care in the world. His hips thrust against you, without mercy. Your slick coats his cock, dripping down his tight balls – it was fucking perfect.

“Cum on my cock, babe,” he growls against your skin, and you whimper, slamming your hips down over and over again, while his thumb rubs faster. Your eyes roll back as you come. You scream slightly and Aemond growls as your pussy clenches. Your orgasm triggers his and he covers your clenching walls in white.

Aemond's eye close and his head falls back, your hips still moving up and down, milking his cock. He breathes heavily, just enjoying your movements, until you slowly stop moving.

You lean forward, your face pressed into the hollow of his neck, trying to catch your breath. You smell his scent and kiss his skin gently. His hands glide over your back, caressing you.

“Maybe this was better than reading a book,” he whispers a little breathlessly, and you giggle.

[schniiipsel]

Send this to all your favourite moots (if you wish) and pass the pumpkin round! 🖤🎃🖤🎃

[ronanxing]

harana

[angarchive]

can regulus grab me next

[schniiipsel]

" 'I already know who the murder is.'

'Oh, do you now?'

'Yeah, me, with my hand up your skirt against the barn,' he uttered (...)"

Okay, that really made me giggle 😄

And even though you struggled with it, you did the part about the game really well! And the transition to Smut was perfect...😏 Idk, but the thought of Abraham handling one like that.... very tantalising!

Kissin' in the Blue Dark

Pairing: Abraham (Grantchester) x f!reader Warnings: Choking, smut. Word count: ~2k

Summary: Less than enthusiastic about the game of Cluedo he's been forced to play, Abraham finds his own form of entertainment.

Author's note: Day seven of Smuffmas - board games and breath play. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“Look at what I got in town earlier!” Cora said excitedly, holding up the white box and shaking it for emphasis, causing the contents to rattle.

“What is it?” she asked, reading the word ‘Cluedo’ across the front.

“It’s a board game,” she explained excitedly, turning over the box to study the back of it. “A murder mystery. You have to guess who the murderer is, what weapon they used and in what room they murdered the person. I’ve been wanting to play it for ages.”

“Oh, right,” she replied, attempting to feign enthusiasm she didn’t really feel. Truthfully, the concept sounded boring to her, she had never enjoyed forced fun. “I’m sure you and Ronnie will have loads of fun playing that.”

“You need six people to play it,” Cora told her, lifting her gaze back to her, “maybe you and Abraham could come over for a game?”

“Oh yeah…maybe…that’d be nice,” she said, nodding and giving a tight smile. There was absolutely no way Abraham would ever agree to sit around and play a board game, it just wasn’t his idea of fun at all, but she didn’t want to be rude to Cora and tell her that. “Anyway, I’d better get off, got a hot date with a pile of ironing!”

“See ya, love,” Cora called to her, before closing the caravan door as she walked away.

Unfortunately, the game of Cluedo happened a lot sooner than she had anticipated – that same night.

Abraham came back from tending the horses, his clothes thick with the scent of the stables, and wrapped his arms around her waist as she stood ironing one of his shirts. She smiled as his warmth enveloped her, his back pressed tight to her chest, and turned her face to his, her lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

“Good day?” she murmured against his lips as he pulled back slightly to look at her.

“Yeah, was alright,” he replied, giving her a gentle squeeze, then flopping down on the settee. He sat with his legs spread wide, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her working behind the ironing board. “Pal and Ronnie have a fresh batch of homebrew ready. Ronnie said we should go over tonight for a few drinks.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, placing the iron down and beginning to button the shirt closed. She shot him a playful smile. “You should have a bath first though, you stink of horses.”

“Bloody cheek,” he grinned, standing and giving her a playful swat on the bottom.

Later that evening, they sat in Cora and Ronnie’s caravan, with Pal and Freda. It was a tight squeeze for the six of them, all crowded around the fold out dining room table. She had Abraham’s thigh pressed tightly against her to the left and Freda’s on the right, with barely enough elbow room to lift her glass to her lips. Several brown, glass bottles of strong home brewed beer were scattered across the tabletop, and a half empty bottle of gin was slowly making its way around them too.

The small space was warm, her cheeks felt flushed, and everyone’s voices grew progressively louder the more they drank, all attempting to be heard over each other. A look of realisation passed across Cora’s face, her eyes went wide, and she clapped her hands, causing a hush to settle over the circle they were sitting in.

“I know what we can do, we’ve got enough of us for it,” she exclaimed, before standing and reaching up to grab the Cluedo box from the shelf behind her.

She felt her heart sink knowing what was to come, it would sour the mood around the entire table.

“What you got there then, Cor?” Pal asked, eyeing the box with curiosity as he rolled a cigarette.

“Cluedo!” she replied happily, placing the box heavily in the centre of the table. “It’s a murder mystery board game.”

“How d’you play it?” Freda asked, sliding the gin bottle across the table to Ronnie.

“So, there are cards for the murder suspects, weapons and rooms, and one of each is chosen at random and placed into an envelope – that’s the answer. The rest of the cards are split out between us, and we each get to play a character and move around the board, between the rooms and guess, based on our cards, who we think the murderer is, what weapon they used and which room they did it in. You all get stuff to take notes with so you can keep track of what’s been guessed wrong. If you guess correctly you win, if you guess wrong then you’re not allowed to guess again. If any of the cards guessed are ones you’re holding, you’ve got to show them privately to the guesser so they know what they guessed wrong. They’re also then allowed to look in the envelope to see the correct answer, but can’t tell anyone what it is.”

Pal and Abraham groaned in unison as Cora lifted the lid and spread the board out. “Christ, that sounds so shit,” Abraham complained, “can’t we just play cards or something instead?”

Ronnie elbowed him gently, leaning in conspiratorially to whisper to him, “just humour her this once. The novelty will wear off or she’ll lose one of the pieces eventually. No point in upsetting her.”

Abraham scowled, leaning back against his seat and folding his arms across his chest as he watched Cora set the game up.

It was slow going, given that none of them really knew what they were doing and Abraham was less than impressed with being given the character of Professor Plum. “Sounds like a twat,” he grumbled, holding the game piece between his forefingers as he examined it.

She had been given the character of Miss Scarlett, and as she moved her red game piece into the library portion of the board, she decided she’d take her chances and make a guess. “Was it…Colonel Mustard with a revolver in the library?”

Freda shook her head, leaning across to show her that she had the card for the revolver.

“Ah, bugger,” she sighed, placing her own cards face down on the table, “guess that’s me out then. I don’t wanna see the answer, I’d rather it stay a surprise.” She tapped Abraham lightly on his thigh, “shift over, love, I’m off to spend a penny.”

She squeezed out of the tight space with difficulty, as Abraham maneuvered his long legs to allow her to pass. The crisp coolness of the night air was a welcome sensation against her skin, as she pushed open the door, allowing it to swing closed behind her as she descended the rickety wooden steps. She felt warm from the combination of the wood burning stove in the caravan and how crowded it was in the small space, as well as the effects of the gin and homebrew she’d been swigging all evening. The fresh air made her light headed and unsteady on her feet as she made her way towards the outhouse.

Having done what she needed to do, she was about to head back when she felt large hands grab her waist, making her gasp as she was backed up against the hard, wooden exterior of the barn. She looked up into the smirking face of Abraham, the pale moonlight just barely illuminating his sharp features.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, grasping the front of his plaid shirt to steady herself.

“Told ‘em I was coming out for a piss,” he said, a predatory glint in his eye as he stared down at her, his grip on her waist unrelenting. “We could just go home though, now we’re both out here.”

“We can’t just leave and not say anything, it’s rude,” she chided, giving his chest a light tap.

“Oh, come on, it’s fucking boring and you know it is,” he argued, keeping her pressed against the wall.

“It is,” she agreed, winding her arms around his neck, “but it’s just this once. Cora was really excited when she told me about it earlier.”

Abraham raised an eyebrow. “You knew she was gonna make us play this?”

She bit her lip, a guilty look passing across her face. “Sort of, yeah…but I didn’t think she’d make us play it tonight.”

“Mmm,” he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against hers, “so, this is your fault then.”

She leaned up, pressing her lips to his, smiling into the kiss as she felt how eagerly he responded, his body pressed flush against hers as his hands slid to her lower back.

“We should get back,” she whispered breathlessly, when they finally parted for air, “or they’ll come out looking for us.”

“No rush,” he murmured, eyeing her hungrily, “I already know who the murderer is.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yeah, me, with my hand up your skirt against the barn,” he uttered, pushing her back against the wall, as the roughness of his calloused fingers slid up the soft flesh of her inner thigh, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.

She whimpered softly, trying to ignore the dull throbbing sensation of her core. “Not here!” she hissed, though she made no attempt to push his hand away.

“I think here will do just fine,” he grinned wolfishly, the pads of his fingers toying with the gusset of her underwear.

“Abe—”

“Shhh,” he soothed. His free hand rose to her throat, wrapping around it and applying just enough pressure to silence her protests, as he slipped two fingers past her knicker elastic and swiped them through her slick folds. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

She had felt light headed when she had stepped outside to pee, but it was nothing compared to this – Abraham’s thumb and forefinger pushed against the sides of her throat, the dizzying lack of oxygen serving to heighten the sensation of his digits working rhythmically against her sensitive flesh.

He squeezed experimentally at her neck, tightening his grip ever so slightly, as his index finger sought out her pearl and began rubbing tight circles upon it. She bucked her hips, her lips parted as her eyes fluttered closed and she lost herself in blissful surrender, completely at his mercy. Abraham was so dominant like this – restricting her airway with one hand, while the other was beneath her skirt – it was all too easy to forget that anyone could catch them, but it felt too good to care.

Little spots swam in her vision, obscuring her view of him as she opened her eyes. He was staring intently at her, loosening and tightening his grip on her delicate neck in tandem with the insistent rubbing at her swollen bundle of nerves. She could feel the coil tightening in her lower belly, as her thighs started to shake. Unable to breathe properly, her pleasured pants were shallow and laboured.

He chuckled darkly, clearly able to sense she was close, and sped up the movement of his fingers as he increased the pressure on her throat. “That’s it, good girl, just let go for me.”

His words were enough to send her tumbling over the edge and she let out a quiet, broken cry of pleasure as her body shuddered against his and white, hot pulsations of ecstasy rippled through her, causing her inner walls to spasm around nothing, as he continued to rub at her, until it became too much and she had to jerk her hips away.

Slowly, he released the hold he had on her throat, moving his arm around her waist to hold her limp form steady. He pulled his hand out from beneath his skirt and wiped it unceremoniously on his trousers, as she clung desperately to his shoulders to keep herself upright.

“You ready to go back in then?” he asked, once she’d had a moment to catch her breath.

“Not after that,” she grinned up at him, “take me home.”

“With pleasure,” he winked, ignoring her squeal as he lifted her effortlessly over his shoulder, and brought his palm heavily down upon her bottom, the sound ringing out loudly in the still night air, as he strode back through the farmyard. They never did find out who the murderer was, and neither one of them cared.

[thoughtkick]

Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference.

Barbara de Angelis

[klien2000]

Inihahandog q ngyon c BINI Sev!!! AYIEEEE mahiwagang salamin kailan ba niya aaminin kaniyang tunay na pagtingin~~

[littlenastieswewhispered]

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Great now half my cuppa is tears 🥲 thanks Ange.

Joking obvi, this reblog was so sweet 😭😭🥰 the butt stuff was for you hehehehe

Tysm Ange 🥰🥰🥰 so sweet and I'm gonna miss em 😭😭😭

A Perfect Score - Epilogue | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: months have passed since the finals with no sign of Aemond, making you wonder if anything has changed | Word Count: 6k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: p in v sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, praise, *a finger in the bum*, butt play, ass eating, orgasm denial, creampie, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping

A/N: *don't get emosh, don't get emosh, don't get emosh* I can't believe it's really REALLY the end! I've had this idea for the Epilogue for AGES and can't wait for you all to read the last instalment of our figure skating couple <3 would die for them and hope you enjoy!

"Good, but bend your knees!" You shout to El who's still got her hands outstretched haphazardly, wobbling on the ice as others whizz past her, knocking her off balance.

She throws a middle finger.

Charming.

You laugh as she pushes off to do another lap, reaching down between your legs for the bag and pulling your phone out for any new texts.

Nothing, you sigh.

El makes you jump, bumping into the ledge, "Will you stop being a simp and checking your phone every two seconds? He's going to text you!"

You click your phone off, "I know. I'm just so impatientttt…" you whine, exaggerating your frustration.

El rolls her eyes, "He'll get in, bud"

"Ew, don't call me that"

"Besides, if he gets rejected, he could always be your new manager, pal" she grins.

"You're so fucking gross, you know that?"

She shrugs, a grin that spells victory, "that'd be kinda hot to be fair. Going everywhere with you to competitions, organising your hotel rooms, fucking you over his des-"

"El! For fucks sake" you whisper-shout, heat rising to your cheeks.

A few other skaters on the ice turn their heads in judgment, making your face burn with embarrassment.

"Gods, so uptight" El jokes, a mischievous grin on her face.

To tell the truth. You missed Aemond. In all aspects.

You hadn't had sex since being in Dorne. And you hadn't seen him since the hospital.

Even though you texted most days, after months of seeing him everyday, it was quite the shock to the system.

It felt like there was a hole, conveniently Aemond-shaped, that was deepening the longer you two were separated.

"Oof!"

You both look up, to see Floris on the ice, wobbling her way back onto her feet, grimacing, "I'm ok!" She reassures, pushing off to skate slowly.

You nod in Floris' direction, "Is she okay skating?"

"Yeah, the physiotherapist said it'd be good to get her doing things like this again" El replies, looking over her shoulder at her sister.

She turns back to you, "Your manager doesn't hang around here anymore. Not since Floris has started coming back".

You resist the urge to frown.

Coward.

“Got you”, El smirks mischievously, "will you tell me what happened one day?"

It was something you’d thought about for some time. To tell her, or not? Floris certainly didn’t know the deeper details, but you knew she would have had suspicions.

Aemond was obviously unbothered if such information circulated, having put a very large proverbial wall between him and Otto the moment he was discharged from hospital. And yet, it still wouldn’t feel right, airing out all the Targaryen dirty laundry like that.

Even if he said it was okay.

But maybe, on a deeper level, Floris and El at least, deserved the truth.

"One day" you promise.

The cold winter chill nips at your bones, even through the layers of thermal clothing you've got piled on, the thick socks, boots and an overcoat, it still feels positively freezing.

“Who are you texting, missy?” you tease, bumping El on the shoulder, shoving your hands into your thick coat pockets.

She flushes, from the weather or the embarrassment you are unsure, but she puts her phone away quickly, “Nobody, you nosy cow”

King's Landing Winter Wonderland, Christmas Market and trinket shops, though it's far too early for any of that, it gets the people into the spirit. Stalls line the market square with several of them selling holiday related items as well as food, with an ice rink circling the entirety of the perimeter.

The air smells of mulled wine, cooked meats and the laughter of families and couples alike. With their warm breath creating clouds of white with each exhale.

El has you excitedly tucked into her arm, telling you all about her newest boyfriend, who for all intents and purposes is both hot and a keeper.

Ah, so that’s who she was talking to.

"He's already talking about us moving in together! Before the end of the year" She says excitedly, but her face falls, "but…I don't want to leave you in the lurch paying the rent by yourself".

You scoff, "I won't take you away from good dick because of fucking rent" you smirk, "if you want to, go for it".

She arches her eyebrows in uncertainty, "You sure?"

You pat her gloved hand with yours, "very", you smile, "as long as he doesn't steal you away from me, I want the lowdown".

"Oh you'll get that alright", she laughs.

Having poked your heads into a few stalls, and several sips of mulled wine later, you smirk as El is glued to her phone. Again.

"That your man?" You ask.

She quickly puts it away, biting her lip, "Yup" she replies, "wanna go skating?"

You roll your eyes, "It's not like it's my fucking job, El. Sick of it".

"Oh come on! I won't have to use the kids stabilisers anymore!"

She gives you her wide, puppy-like eyes.

Ones you know you can't refuse.

"Fine" you sigh.

She is far too excited to say that literally a few hours before she was struggling to use her two flippers to stay upright on the rink. Nevermind going backwards.

It’s quite entertaining to see her drag you by the hand excitedly to the ticket gate.

“One ticket for skating, please! Size 5!” she beams at the receptionist, who looks like he’d rather be dead right now.

You furrow your brows, “One? Did you want to go on by yourself and I watch or-”

“Nope! Just you” she grins.

“Me? El, what in seven hells are you on abou-”

She shoves the skates into your hands and practically pushes you past the gate, waving you off, “no questions!”

You don’t even really have time to cuss her out/question the situation, it feels like your brain is in overdrive.

There, either hand leaning against the entrance to the ice rink, where the public are zipping around slowly, laughing, pink in the face, hand in hand, is Aemond. The familiar ribbons of platinum hair that have fallen from the hair tie, now slightly waved from the moisture in the air, sways with the breeze at his shoulders.

He has that slack smirk on his face, his tall broad form leaning on one side, ankles crossed with the low quality skates on, tapping the tip onto the ice.

Even in a heavy looking coat, his hair messily done up and pink cheeks from where the cold had been hitting them, he still looks every bit as handsome as you remembered him.

It makes your heart sigh to see him smile at you with that glimmer in his eye. Blinking slowly and admiringly at you.

"Hey, Princess", he greets warmly.

You almost drop the skates in your hands, the cold wisps of wind making you realise now that your eyes are all wet.

You're sure his name slips out before you crash into his arms, flinging yours around his neck.

He smells just like he used to.

And all those good memories just flood back at once, making that wetness behind your eyes form actual teardrops that line your cheeks.

You feel him laugh a little, one of his big hands on your back, "missed me then?", he prods in a smooth tone.

Fuck. His voice.

You didn't realise you'd missed hearing it so much.

When you pull away, to properly look at his face, he's still smiling, in that classic 'Aemond' way.

You're so engrossed with just looking at him, you nearly flinch when you feel his thumb wipe your under eye softly, wiping the moisture away.

His gaze softens, "don't cry. I don't look that bad, do I?"

Giving a watery laugh, you shake your head, "Just missed you".

His hand is still around your waist, inadvertently pulling you close to him so your hands hover over his chest, "Now, now, don't get all soft on me".

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"How?.."

Aemond gestures with his head, "El organised it".

"But…she's-"

"With her new boyfriend, don't worry. It's just us, princess" Aemond smiles, picking up the skates you'd dropped.

"For old time's sake?" He smiles.

And all you can do is blush and smile up at him like a little lovesick teenager.

It feels utterly strange to get back on the ice with Aemond again, even if it is a public one in the middle of a Christmas market. Even more so that he's not flinging you around in all sorts of twists and jumps.

But it feels nice.

Hand in gloved hand, you glide about together, catching up.

Alicent, you learn, has gotten back in touch with her long time friend. Aemond furrows his brows when he recollects that usually she's on facetime with a glass of Dornish Red in one hand and creasing up in front of her iPad at something her friend has said.

Aegon. Well, he's Aegon. Aemond's words, not yours. But he's working on getting a teaching qualification so that he can coach skating instead. It's nice that he was able to find something to use his skills for. Other than womanising.

"Had minor surgery on my nerves…they think it'll do the trick for some years, hopefully forever" he says as you weave on either foot.

"Well that's good" you smile, "does it feel better?"

He nods, "Oh and Hel has a new partner".

You look over quickly, one eyebrow poised, "And? Was I right?"

Smirking, Aemond has to resist the urge to roll his eye, "Yes, you were right".

"Yes! I knew it! I knew she was bi!"

You flush when some families around you look over when you shout it a bit too loud.

Oops.

Aemond tugs you to his side by your waist, humming in a kind of quiet laugh. A comfortable silence descends, just enjoying one another's company.

"I got in", he says suddenly. Stealing your attention again as your feet synchronise in short glides.

"Got in?"

"KLU".

"KLU? Oh my god-" you surge up, his face between your hands, but he doesn't complain, and kiss him fiercely, "Congratulations, Aemond. Oh my gosh, that's-"

You beam with pride.

And you can tell he genuinely loves it, by the way he blushes slightly.

"And" he goes on, his face close to yours, smirking at the confused look on your face.

"And?..."

He licks his lips before he speaks.

"I got a place" he adds, "and was wondering…if you…"

He trails off. And your face settles into realisation. Your heart hammering in your chest, like the engine of an old train.

He shrugs, clearing his throat, “You know, because we basically spent all our time together during the championships…”

You swallow thickly, "Really?..." it comes out weaker than you intended.

He nods, “It’s just out of town, not far from here really” he gestures in the vague direction with his head, the hand that’s resting at your waist dropping somewhat.

Blinking the emotion from your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Alright, Mr Moneybags”

He doesn’t laugh, like you expect him to, but he does smile at least. At this point, you seem to have come to a stop, your skates nestled between his to keep you both stable.

His darkened gaze just looks at your face. Studies it.

Like he’s opened a book and is reading through the pages.

When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but feel a flutter deep in your chest. It feels like he is drawing on you softly, like a thousand little butterflies have landed on your face, and are slowly opening and closing their wings.

You shudder when his warm, ungloved thumb brushes against your cheek.

“What?...” you smile at him affectionately.

He hums, a cloud escaping his lips as he speaks, “I’ve missed you”.

All you feel is the ledge of the ice rink press against your lower back and yours and Aemond’s noses brushing against one another as he presses his warm, comforting lips to yours.

He takes his time, moving languidly against your lips with a soft, wet beat, his tongue parting your lips as if he had been waiting all this time to taste you properly.

He tastes just as you remember.

A hint of cigarettes that he’s tried to hide with spearmint.

When you break away, you can’t ignore the warm feeling that blooms in your gut. In all the time you’d spent apart, you forgot how his lips felt on yours, how his hands felt on you, and how his mere presence around you made arousal creep up your thighs.

Gods, it’s been so long.

A blush creeps up your neck to your face, and Aemond smirks.

“Stop that”

Your lower lip catches between your teeth before you reply, “What?”

He leans against the ledge, caging you in with his own body.

“Blushing”

His voice lowers.

“Otherwise I’ll give you something to blush about”

The tension was thick as you and Aemond trudged through the Christmas Market after vacating the ice rink. You tried to lighten it by doing idle things like looking at the homemade ornaments on one stand, to sharing a cup of mulled wine between you, feeling the way the liquid warmed your insides.

That warmth was nothing compared to the way Aemond looked at you.

It reminded you of all those months ago, at the hotel, before the dynamic of your relationship changed. The way he used to stare at you from across the room, in what you wrongly thought at the time was out of disinterest and detest.

How wrong you were.

Shooting off a quick text to El, who you were sure was already back at the flat anyway, enjoying all the ‘assets’ of her new boyfriend, you walk hand in hand with Aemond back to his apartment.

He was very intent on showing you his new place. And your insides fluttered in anticipation, heat crawling up your neck.

His apartment was nice. Not that you expected any less. It was several floors high, showing a good view of King’s Landing and the bright, illuminated Christmas Market in the square below. Even from here, through the tall and wide windows of the living room, you could see the couples zipping around the ice rink, as you both were just a few moments before.

It had that ‘new apartment’ smell, but whenever you brushed past a coat of his or a blanket, it smelled like him. The walls were bare, but you were sure that Aemond would decorate when he was properly settled.

“Is Vhagar going to be coming here?” you ask, cupping the warm mug of tea in your hands as Aemond gives it to you.

“Maybe. She’s quite settled at Mum’s though so…I don’t want to make her anxious”.

You nod, “It’s a nice place”

“Will look even better when you’re here” he smirks, bending down to huff himself onto the sofa, “I’m sure you have better ideas than I do on interior design”.

You simply watch him for a moment, the warmth of his apartment making your previously cold hands feel prickly. Your fingers tap against the ceramic, the sound of Aemond’s playlist rumbling quietly from a speaker in a different room.

Placing the mug on the coffee table, Aemond exhales as your legs rest either side of his torso, moving to sit atop him with your hands stealing beneath his shirt, watching as his pink lips part for breath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess” he murmurs against your lips as he leans up, his large hands squeezing your ass, moulding the flesh to his grip and eliciting a low gasp from your lips.

"Who says it's a game?" You whisper back, teasing him by brushing your lips against his, moving your hips on him and smiling when you feel him harden instantly.

" - fuck - "

You know he hates it, just hates it, when you smirk at how pent up and desperate he gets. But you just can't help it. Not only is it all too easy, it's just too fucking tempting too.

How easily such a large, overbearing and domineering man, can be subdued to a mewling, near-begging mess just by the soft movement of your hips.

"Baby, please -"

Reaching down between your bodies, Aemond outright moans when you palm his erection through his jeans, sitting against his thigh quite obviously. You tease your hand from the base to the tip, squeezing through the denim, seeing the way Aemond almost knits his brows together in barely-contained pleasure.

And any time he tries to reach up, to kiss you properly, you pull back, allowing him to chase you.

"Oh, fuck you-"

You yelp in surprise as Aemond lifts you, keeping your legs around his waist as he pushes his bedroom door open and dropping you onto his mattress. And before you even have a moment to sit up on your elbows, he's on you, kneeing your legs apart and caging you to the bed with his body.

"Can't fucking wait any longer - need you, baby-"

Fuck, even the way he says that has arousal pooling between your legs, the desire to push your thighs together strong, but weakened with Aemond's body keeping them apart.

He's so fast and rough, the way he unbuttons your jeans and pulls the denim down your legs, taking your underwear with it, that you feel for a moment he may have torn something.

He practically fucking growls when he he looks between you, his thumb teasing your clit, finally able to look upon you the way he's wanted to for months.

"Already soaked for me, aren't you?" He coos lowly, teasing your bud in sure, confident circles, before swatting your heat firmly with a wet smack, "such a good fucking slut for me".

You mewl, pressing your lips together, a flush enveloping your face at his words. It's been so long since you were intimate with him, it will take a few moments to get used to it again and fall into that rhythm.

That, and you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the realisation you've not shaved your legs, genuinely not having expected to see him today.

It doesn't seem like Aemond cares.

With a fist over the collar of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, showing his lean and well-muscled torso lit with a warm amber glow from the bedside lamp.

You jolt in surprise as his fingers pull you by your thighs further down the bed, a gasp flying past your lips as his tongue and teeth nip and kiss at the inside of them. The sensation bordering on pain and pleasure at the same time.

"You don't know how long I've waited to taste your sweet pussy, princess"

You have an idea, by the way Aemond mouths at the crease between your thigh and hip. But you don't say it out loud. The anticipation of his mouth so, so close without touching you where you need him most is agonising.

" - fuck - Aemond -"

Your back nearly arches off the bed as he flattens his tongue against your warmth, swirling around your clit first before diving into your folds to feast on you, his fingers digging into your flesh for leverage. The feeling of his grip into your flesh burns pleasantly as he tugs you towards him, your lips parting with hurried pants tumbling out.

Your legs tremble as his low moan vibrates through your core, electricity creeping up your spine as he laps at you with vigour, his sharp nose nudging at your clit as he moves side to side to eventually fuck you with his tongue.

For a split second, you worry if he can actually breathe.

But as your embarrassingly quick orgasm starts barrelling towards you without warning, it somehow gets pushed to the back of your mind, you reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, chanting his name as if it’s all you can say as he groans against your cunt.

His hands hold you down by your thighs, tugging you back to his mouth in soft micro-movements as you shake against him, head thrown back against the pillows with your breath hot in your chest, unable to catch it well enough to form any other sound than moaning unabashedly.

Aemond outright moans as you cum against his tongue, the lewd sound of him licking up everything that comes out makes a heat creep up your neck. But you can’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he makes you feel like this.

You can feel the moisture on his face when he takes mercy, drawing his lips away to kiss and nip at the inside of your thighs again, giving one firm bite before he pulls away with a smirk on his face, no doubt happy at the mark he’s left behind.

Your eyes feel heavy as you lift your gaze to him, now perched on his knees as he pops the buttons of his jeans off, the veins on the back of his hand straining, making you feel somewhat lightheaded.

“ - can’t wait to fuck you again - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted be buried inside that pretty little pussy -”

You lick your lips as your mouth goes dry. He always manages to do that. Somehow turn you into a limp, mewling mess in no time at all.

Something you have in common, clearly.

With your heart beating erratically, body throbbing in the afterglow of your orgasm, that feeling is enhanced still when Aemond tugs at his length needily, his shoulders rising and falling with the desire to just stuff himself inside you as deep as he will go.

You can only watch in awe as his fingers wrap around himself, the tip ruddy and desperate, with arousal coating it with every slow and calculated fist. His stomach muscles clench and unclench uncontrollably, his chest muscles moving steadily with each deep breath.

It feels exciting, how utterly small you feel when he leans over you, once again grasping your legs to spread them before him. His long, thick fingers tease your slick folds, before he guides the fat head of his cock to your centre, watching with parted lips at the way your eyebrows furrow in both relief and pleasure as he stretches you around him slowly.

“ - ohfuck - ”, he moans lowly, sinking himself slowly into your warmth and basking in the closeness it offers, “ - fuck, baby, so tight for me -”

Being with him like this again is like sinking into a warm bath, with the rolls of steam batting at your face. And his words are so soft, they’re like dozens of little snowflakes settling on your face in a flurry. All cold and numb, and yet warm and fuzzy at the same time.

It’s completely instinctual, the way you turn your head, slightly embarrassed as Aemond holds either of your legs apart, his pelvis smacking against yours as he eases himself into a steady rhythm.

“ -aw, don’t tell me you’ve gone all shy on me -” he mocks, his eye glimmering with mischief as he looks down at you, “-where’s the needy, little slut I used to know, hm? -”

You gasp as Aemond pushes both hands down, pressing both of your legs towards your shoulders, bending at the knee so that he can kneel higher, using the new position with gravity to fuck down into you faster and rougher.

The new position has you pretzeled before him, completely unable to do anything but throw your head back against the pillows and turn bright red at the wanton, breathy moans that slip out.

“ -Aemond -”

“ - what’s wrong, baby? -” he coos, “ -is this too much for you? Hm? I know you’re more flexible than this -”

Fuck.

Each rough push of his length into you from this angle has the curved head of his cock brush against your sweet spot with devastating precision. With every thrust, the air seems to expel forcefully from your lungs, not helped in part by the fact that Aemond has your legs pressed hard against your ribs.

All you’re able to see through bleary eyes is the way he smirks down at you with his hair stuck to his tacky face, his chest heaving with hurried breath, and every now and then, his neck muscles straining as he tips his head back and groans loudly as you inadvertently squeeze his length when he bullies the end of you.

The air is charged, hot and humid. And you barely register the fact that music is still playing in another room, and that the curtains are pulled back. Though there’s no chance of anyone being able to see you both from how high his apartment is, it still makes your insides tighten that it’s happening so unabashedly with the city right below you.

His hand drifts down your thigh, watching as you squirm beneath him as he presses hard on your stomach, your eyes closing tightly at the feeling of him closing you around his length as it pistons roughly into you. He smiles slightly, almost as if he can feel how deep he reaches inside you.

“ -Oh fuck, baby - can fucking feel you gripping me -” he moans helplessly, leaning over, the sweat on his forehead slightly illuminated by the warm lamp’s light, “-does my girl like being a dirty little slut?”

You barely even register he’s speaking, everything sounding utterly muffled and just too much all at once. His low voice only serves to make that coil wind tighter in your gut, reacting to the way he never lets up his pace once.

You jolt slightly when he taps your cheek twice, a little rougher than you’d anticipated.

“ -I’m fucking talking to you -” he growls, moving his hand from your stomach up to bunch the shirt in his fist, exposing your pebbled nipples to the warmth of the room.

You nod helplessly, “Yes - yes -”

It’s all mindless babbling, and Aemond knows it as he grins, his eye flitting down to watch the way your breasts bounce as he fucks you.

“ -please, Aemond -”

“ -please what, hm? You want to cum, is that it? But you’re too fucked stupid to say it?”

As much as you hate to admit it, his words send a bolt of humiliation through you that does nothing but excite you, your core throbbing around his length with every calculated word he says.

"Aw, poor thing -" he jeers, "- I'm going to have fun with you-"

Wait what?

This isn't said 'fun'?

Oh shit.

Before that familiar coil can wind itself any tighter, Aemond pulls back, grunting as he manhandles your hips to turn you over and his palm cracking against your backside, smirking in victory at the mewl it gets out of you.

The skin there blooms with warmth, more so as Aemond’s tantalisingly hot skin presses against it once more, your lips parting in what can only described as a relieved moan as he slides into you again, his cockhead hitting the spongey end, filling you utterly.

"-Aemo-"

Smack.

"Not my fucking name, Princess. C'mon, you can do it" he purred, pressing his hand against your back, pushing against your spine and forcing your face against the sheets.

A choked moan almost slips out, with him tugging your hips up to him in such a curved position, his cockhead bullies your sweet spot, dragging his length along your sensitive walls, propelling you to an overwhelming orgasm.

"Go on - beg me for it or I won't let you cum-"

The idea of him denying you yet again when you were so close last time just seems utterly unbearable. So despite the humiliation rocking through your core with each harsh smack of his hips, despite the overwhelming heat of the room and most of all, despite your pride.

You do.

"Please - daddy - need it-"

If you could see him, you'd hate it.

Because he grins. Ear to fucking ear like he's wanted to hear it for months.

"Aren't you gonna beg me for permission to touch yourself?"

You suck in a breath, squealing muffled against the sheets as he gives another hard thrust. Clearly, despite appearances, on the verge himself.

"-can I - can I touch myself - please, daddy -"

"-fuck- baby, touch that little clit for me, yeah? - want to feel you cum-"

His voice is strained, pushing you with each thrust further and further against the sheets, your arms near giving out with the weight of him on you. With difficulty, your hand snakes between you and the mattress that constantly dips with how rough Aemond is being, and finds your bud, running the slickness that has collected over it, tying up your pleasure into two feelings.

Aemond’s lips part, staggered breaths the only thing coming out, as he feels your walls flutter around him, looking down at the way your bodies meet with a soft smack every time. You feel so warm and tight, gods he’s wanted to cum since since you started touching him through his jeans.

But now, pulling you by your hips to spear you onto his cock, he’s so so close.

Just wants to feel you first.

“-baby, you’re doing so well for me-” he breathes quickly, his gaze flitting briefly from where he’s pistoning in and out of you, to your sweat slick face, pressed against the sheets, biting your lips harshly as you pleasure yourself in tandem with Aemond’s movements.

As his hand slid down past your hips, his thumb tracing the bottom of your spine, you suck in a harsh breath when he softly grazes over your puckered hole, still fucking shallowly as if to tease you and him into teetering on the edge of a climax.

You're barely able to see behind you, pressed so hard into the sheets, but he looks good fucking you. His chest shines with perspiration, the chain dangling around his neck teasingly, and his abdominal muscles clenching and unclenching with restraint.

And then you see him smile.

"-oh? We've never done this before have we, princess?-"

Oh shit.

After all the exertion of your passion so far, your slick has easily made its way onto your thighs, so Aemond doesn't have to move much to drag some of it on his thumb and circle your hole with light, delicate motions, moistening the area.

Humiliation creeps up onto your face, eyes slipping shut. No guy before has ever really tried to do this. So this is uncharted territory. But despite the brief embarrassment, you have to admit that the feeling of Aemond ever so slightly pressing his thumb against you as he continues to thrust brutally into your cunt just feels new in the most amazing way.

His other hand still grabs the flesh of your ass, tugging you back to his cock in a frantic rhythm. The mewls coming out your mouth now sounding so unlike your own.

Aemond knows by the way your hips move up to meet his touch that you like it, but are too embarrassed to say.

"-how about it, hm? - you want me in both your pretty little fuckholes? -"

"-yes - yes, please daddy, I-"

Making sure his thumb is slick enough, your puckered hole also, he slides in slowly, using the palm of his hand to grasp whatever of your ass cheeks as he can.

You almost hear his choked moan.

"-fuck-, you're so tight here, princess - you gonna let me fuck it one day, hm? - you'd be so fucking good here-"

The batting of his cock against your upper walls has you very nearly sobbing outwardly, combined with the feeling of him in such a new place, pressing in, you'd forgotten you'd stopped pleasuring yourself. Completely embroiled in this feeling.

He chuckles darkly, crooking the digit ever so slightly, leaning over to press against your back "-you'd fucking let me as well, wouldn't you? -"

The curling of his other fingers on the flesh of your backside has him smiling at the sounds it emits from you.

“-did I say stop, hm? Keep touching yourself - cum for me-”

You know that as soon as you do it’s all over.

His voice, combined with all three feelings at once, tugging at that pleasurable spot inside you that has white, hot pleasure soaring through your bloodstream, has a long, choked moan filling the space between you. And you’re surprised to hear that the same sound slips past Aemond’s lips as well, the air of his breath batting against your neck as he tries to bury himself as deep inside you as he possibly can.

You’re trying to suck in breath without really realising it, the earth-shattering orgasm making your body go all rigid for a moment before you relax against the sheets, with the pleasant weight of him above you.

Everything feels warm. His bedroom right now feeling like a large blanket has enveloped you both. It seems a weird thing to think in the moment, with Aemond’s half naked body hunched over you, his cock twitching and pulsing, whimpering as he is still emptying himself inside of you and feeling the aftershocks through your fleshy walls.

All his micro-movements seem overly-sensitive. And when Aemond exhales, lifting himself off your back, lifting your lids to open your eyes feels like the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

“-sorry-” he whispers cautiously as he pulls his softening cock from you, immediately feeling the warm rush of cum coating your inner thighs.

Warmth blossoms once again to your cheeks as he stays still, and you think he must be staring at the way he leaks from you, sighing in a sort of perverted admiration.

You don’t even have time to open your mouth before his thumb slips out your other hole, only to jolt in shock once it’s immediately replaced by his tongue. All those dulled out endorphins that were dissipating into your limbs feel like they all gather back, and you squeeze your thighs together, fisting the bedsheets so tightly they could’ve torn.

Both of his hands seem to find their home on each asscheek, spreading them so he can easily swirl his talented wet, muscle around your hole, fucking moaning as he does it. All your nerves ring semi-uncomfortably, overstimulation nipping at the edges of the pleasure.

“-fuck, Aemond, no no, please-” you plead, emitting a weary, exhausted laugh when he chuckles and pulls away, landing one softened smack against the flesh.

“-Mm- another time-”

Lethargy pulls at your body as you lay on your front, blinking slowly as you feel the mattress rise, pressing your lips together as Aemond disappears into the en-suite, tucking himself back into his jeans.

A moment later, he comes back with a warm washcloth, offering to clean you up. But you simply smile, pushing yourself to sit up, “I’m good”, you smile, with a flushed face, feeling slightly bashful after what you’d just done together.

One long shower together later, you lay in his bed, looking out at the city beneath, the cascade of brightly coloured lights littering the dark space between buildings. Aemond’s shirt easily reaches to your thighs, with nothing beneath, not having anticipated staying over anywhere today.

Aemond sighs calmly, his chin on the top of your head, pressed against your back, with one of his hands running through the tresses of your hair, every now and then stroking at your scalp, which has your eyes slipping shut at the pleasant feeling.

“Well, princess? Do you like it?” he asks, his voice all soft and tired.

You meet his lilac gaze, tilting your head slightly in question.

“The apartment”.

“It’s perfect”, you smile, reaching up his cheek and running the back of your fingers over it, the scar tissue feeling slightly different in texture over your skin, “you sure you want me to move in?”

He blinks slowly, a smile rising to his lips, his hand coming to yours and pressing a soft, tender kiss to your wrist. And though not directly sexual, it makes your belly do little backflips, feeling so intimate and captivating that warmth floods your skin through his lips.

“Of course, princess. I can't do this without you”.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

[castiels-undercoat]

The only reason ppl dont like the late seasons of Supernatural is bc they are taking them too seriously. Spn stopped taking itself seriously around like season 9 or 10, after that they were just kinda fucking around.

[linkito]

[hhau] and love’s the only thing worth being alive for 💕

[schniiipsel]

autumn check-in ♡ so many of us are going through a hard time right now and i want to spread some love and kindness!! i wish you all the warm, healing energies and hope that you are doing well over there!! take care 🫂

Thank u, Ange! That's really sweet and I hope you're doing well! 🫶🫶

[happilyhertale]

ngl, I had to write something like that... because that's exactly how I imagine Aemond!😄 I'm glad you like it!🥰

Take my breath away – Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You are spending the holidays with your boyfriend Daemon's family. Board games are on the programme for tonight. Daemon was reserved in his joy, but he behaves after you promise him a night full of pleasure.

Pairing: Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, Fingering

Author’s note:

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.2 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The Targaryen estate is a sprawling mansion, tucked away in the snowy hills, lit with soft golden lights that flickered like dragonfire in the frosty air. Inside, the warmth of the fireplace and the scent of mulled wine fill the grand hall, where the family has gathered for Christmas Eve.

Daemon sits slouched on the leather couch, his silver hair catching the firelight as he swirls a goblet of mulled wine lazily in his hand. He doesn‘t need to say it aloud—he hates this.

The cheery ambiance, the laughter of children, and the endless board games. He would much rather be elsewhere, preferably with you. Alone.

“Why do we have to do this every year?” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear as you sit beside him, your hand resting lightly on his knee. “A room full of insufferable people and their noisy brats…”

You shoot him a warning look, but the corner of your lips betrays a smile. “It’s Christmas, Daemon. Family time.”

Daemon snorts, taking a sip of his wine, his free hand creeping up your thigh. “I can think of better ways to spend my time, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough against your ear as he leans into you. “Ways that involve far fewer clothes and far more... enthusiasm.”

You elbow him lightly, cheeks heating. “Daemon, behave.”

His grin is wicked as he leans back, feigning innocence when Viserys’s voice booms from across the room.

Daemon rolls his eyes theatrically, but your hand on his knee tighten, and you give him a sweet smile that promised things—delicious, thrilling things—later tonight if he played along. With a dramatic sigh, he sets down his wine and picks up the dice.

“Daemon, it’s your turn! Don’t make us wait all night!” Viserys, the self-appointed Christmas game master, waves the dice in Daemon’s direction.

Beside him, Alicent adjustes the garland draped over the mantle, giving her husband a patient smile while trying to ignore her youngest, Aemond, who was sulking about having lost the last round of Pictionary.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Rhaenyra, seated across from you, chuckles softly, her children giggling at their uncle’s antics. “Always the life of the party, aren’t you, Uncle Daemon?” she teases, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

All the while, Daemon leans into you, his lips brushing your ear every so often with whispers that makes your cheeks burn.

Daemon ignores her, rolling the dice with as much enthusiasm as a man filling out his taxes…

The game continues, a mix of competitiveness, laughter, and the occasional bickering between Viserys’s kids and Rhaenyra’s brood.

“You’re wearing far too much tonight,” he murmurs during a heated round of charades, his fingers idly tracing circles on your thigh. “When we get back to our room, I’ll—”

But he is interrupted because Jace throws something at Aegon and Rhaenyra and Alicent are trying to restore calm.

Daemon sighs and leans back, drinking his mulled wine and watching the little children shouting at each other. You giggle softly, sensing his annoyance, and lean in to kiss his cheek.

By the time the game draws to a close and Alicent announces dessert in the dining room, Daemon was thoroughly bored and more than a little tipsy. His arm drapes possessively over your shoulders as the family moves toward the dining room, and he bends down to murmur in your ear one final time.

“You owe me for this,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “I want you. Tonight. And I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

You look up at him, your own mischievous smile spreading. “That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

For the first time that evening, Daemon’s smirk softens into something warmer, though his eyes still burn with their usual intensity.

But before you can follow the rest of the family into the dining room, Daemon takes your hand. You gasp slightly as he pulls you along.

“What are you doing?” you whisper before he pulls you into the bathroom. He doesn't answer, but pushes you against the wall after closing the door.

He kisses you, letting his tongue slide into your mouth while his hand slides to your neck and grabs you lightly. You gasp slightly and look up at him as he breaks the kiss.

“A little taste of tonight,” he murmurs.

“But... Daemon... your family...“, you whisper, but gasp again when you feel his other hand slides up your inner thigh and grasps it.

”Then you have to be quiet,” he murmurs, nibbling gently on your jaw, his hand on your neck tightening slightly.

You can't answer. You whimper as his fingers press against your panties. He feels the damp fabric and gently rubs your nerve bundle. He kisses your cheek and you feel his warm breath. His fingers rub faster and you moan softly.

“Ssh... the others are outside,” he whispers teasingly, but pushes your panties aside. Slowly he smears the wetness along your folds and you bite your lip. You look at him, breathing heavily. You want to lean towards him, want to kiss him, but his hand on your neck squeezes harder, pushing you back against the wall and making you feel his dominance.

His thumb starts rubbing your clit while his fingers tease the rough spot inside you. He fingers you fast and roughly, and your pussy doesn't stop clenching around his fingers. You grind against his hand, your hands on his arms as you try to hold on to something in desperation.

You whimper again, but he just grins cheekily as he slides his fingers into your pussy. Immediately, he feels your walls clench around his fingers. You moan, and then Daemon grants your wish – his lips meet yours as he swallows your moans.

You kiss him hungrily, feeling him choke you. The taste of the spices in the mulled wine linger on his lips and tongue, spreading to your tongue as your tongue dances with his. His fingers slide in and out, the wet smacking filling the bathroom as his legs push yours further apart.

“So wet for me... Your greedy little pussy... Can't wait for me to fill you up tonight, can you?” he growls against your lips and you whimper again. Your pussy flutters around his fingers.

Whimpers and moans escape your lips. He slides another finger inside you and you let out a slight cry. His three fingers fuck you senseless, and he grunts as your wetness runs down his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Daemon,“ you whimper as you feel the pressure. He bites your lip lightly.

“Come on.. cum on my fingers, love…” he murmurs.

You moan again, but bite your lip to be quiet. His thumb doesn't stop circling you, while his fingers move faster, thrusting deeper.

You moan, unable to keep quiet as your eyes roll back into your head.

Daemon growls as he feels your walls clench around his fingers and you cream all over his penetrating fingers.

He kisses you again, swallowing the sounds of your pleasure as his fingers slide in and out.

“That's it...“ he whispers and you whimper as you come on his fingers. His movements slow down as he feels your walls stop clenching.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and moves them to his lips. He licks his fingers clean and grins at you as he sees you blush.

”Delicious,” he murmurs and you only slightly shake your head, but you smile.

He lightly kisses the corner of your mouth as he releases your neck. You straighten your clothes and take a step towards the door. You try to control your breathing to appear normal.

“Come on... let's get dessert,” you say, still breathless, holding out your hand.

He takes your hand but pulls you closer, ‘Well... I don't know about you, but I just had dessert,’ he murmus quietly.

You slap his chest lightly and he chuckles before you pull him out of the bathroom.

[beverage2000]

CYaRon x Angely Sugar

[angarchive]

super cool caption here

[zmorowanie]

cunty priest