danysdragon

[danysdragon]

[danysdragon]

THEY GOT AEMOND

[danysdragon]

Piano Lessons

Michael Gavey x Pianist!Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Michael Gavey has an interest in something other than maths, at last. But he cannot seem to focus on his piano studies when his piano tutor is so incredibly delectable.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, cunnilingus, p in v, finger sucking, rough fucking, hand cramps (she is a pianist after all🤭), neck kissing, Michael knows damn well what he’s doing, curse words, public sex, choking with ribbon.

A/N: Inspired by my hot piano teacher🤭😙😩just pretend that there’s a piano in an Oxford common room. reblogs and likes are appreciated! Also send in requests if you ever have any, I love receiving them!💋💋💋

He nearly drops his maths book as he rushes to his next class, unintentionally oversleeping, which is quite odd for Michael Gavey, who is always on time. You see, he was up late last night, studying for his exams and losing track of time. When he finally realized that he should sleep, it was long past midnight. He reaches the door and looks through the small, rectangular window. He sighs, realizing that class has already started, but thank god they’re only studying today and there isn’t a a lesson. He opens the door and quietly walks to his usual desk next to you, setting his books down with an unintended thud that echoed through the room. You look up from your textbook, noticing Michael is late.

“You’re late, Michael Gavey.” You whisper to the boy. He gives you a look that says ‘Yes, I noticed.’ You roll your eyes and turn your focus back to the textbook in front of you. As Michael gets settled, he notices that you are wearing a wrist brace. His brows furrow with slight concern. He nudges you softly with his elbow, getting your attention. You look up at him, a bit annoyed that he is interrupting your reading. “You okay? Is your wrist hurt?” Michael whispers as to not disturb the other working students. You look down at your wrist then back at him. “My wrist is sore from piano.” You say, looking back down at your book. Michael’s eyes brighten a bit. “You play? Could you maybe… Show me some things?” He asks, a hint of excitement in his usually stoic expression. “I suppose. Tonight at nine.” She doesn’t even look up from her book. Michael smiles, grateful for her agreement and excited for their meeting tonight.

Nine o’clock rolls around and Michael quickly begins his journey to the common room with the piano. This common room is quieter and farther away from the dorms. Barely anyone comes there because the piano is there and no one has a fancy for piano music apparently. Everyone except you, it seems. He soon arrives, seeing that you are already there and practicing. You’re no longer wearing your wrist brace, exposing your soft and elegant hands. He quietly walks over to the bench, not wanting to disturb your playing. You stop and look up at him. You give him a small smile and motion for him to sit on the bench next to you. He does as instructed and sits down. “I’ll teach you basic keys. Give me your hand.” You say, taking his hand. You put your smaller hand overtop his larger one, positioning it on the piano. He swallows at the feeling of your hand on his but he tries to focus on the piano. You give him a small nod to press down on the keys, gently pushing his fingers down with your own.

After a few minutes of practicing simple keys and working on beginning a song, Michael pulls his hand away and looks at you. “Will you play somehting for me?” He ask, tapping the bench with his fingers. You slightly smile and nod your head. “Of course. Any special requests?” You ask with a small smile. “Anything.” You nod your head and begin playing Reverie 68 by Debussy. He watches intently as your fingers dance on the keys. There’s something about you playing the piano that he finds so utterly attractive. He shifts slightly in his seat. As your playing continues and the song begins to build up, he begins to feel his pants getting a bit tighter. Though, you haven’t seemed to have noticed yet, too into your playing. Once you’re finished, you look at him and rest your hands on your lap. “That was good.” Michael says, trying not to focus on the growing bulge in his pants. You smile slightly, looking away, a bit shy because of the praise. Michael hesitantly puts a finger on your chin to make you look at him. He slowly runs his fingers through your soft hair, then gently begins tugging at the ribbon in your hair.

He gets up and stands behind you letting your hair down, and taking the ribbon out. He slowly moves the ribbon to wrap around your throat. He tugs the ribbon, not enough to choke you but enough to make you feel a small pull on your skin. He holds the ribbon with one hand as she other snakes over your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lips, seeking entrance. You part your lips, letting him slide his thumb in, over your tongue. “Your playing was immaculate, love…” He says in a quiet but sultry voice, running his thumb over your tongue. You suck on his thumb as the ribbon slightly tightens around your slender throat. It hurts only a little, but in a good way. A pleasurable way. You begin to feel a familiar warmth in your stomach and a pulsating between your legs. You rub your legs together, seeking some friction as you grip the bench lightly. He notices your squirming and smirks, relishing in your discomfort. He pulls on the ribbon a bit more, making you gag only a small bit. He takes his thumb out of your mouth and releases the ribbon, allowing air to easily flow through your airways once more.

“Lay down on the bench.” He demands in a soft voice. You do as he says, laying back but still rubbing your legs together, desperate for some sort of relief. Michael gets down in his knees in front of you, gently pushing up your skirt up at an agonizing pace. He looks up at your beautiful face, a teasing look in his framed eyes. “Will you hurry up, Michael? I need you…” You whine, looking down into his eyes. He chuckles and pushes your skirt up all the way, “Be patient, my little pianist.” He spreads your legs all the way apart and admires how soaked your white, lace panties already are. “So wet for me already?” He says with a smirk, moving your panties to the side and diving in without hesitation. You moan with pleasure at his unexpected eagerness. Your hands find their way to his head, running your fingers through his golden brown hair as you pull him closer to you. He moans into your cunt, sending a vibration through your body. His tongue finds its way inside of you, desperately lapping at your wet cunt, making you moan and whimper his name. Your head is thrown back and your lips are parted in ecstasy as his tongue works its magic on you, the tip of his nose massaging your clit. You almost never want this to end, the feeling of his mouth of you is too much yet not enough. You need all of him, not just his pretty lips.

He reluctantly pulls away, looking deep into your eyes, his eyes big with lust and desperate need. He quickly pulls her panties down her legs and throws them onto the keys of the piano. He begins to unbutton his pants, soon they are low enough for him to take out his pulsating bulge. You gaze at it, worried that it may not fit, though, you don’t say anything about it. He puts one hand on your waist and the other on your throat. He slowly slides in, watching your reaction closely. You throw your head back in pleasure, gripping, the sides of the bench tightly. He doesn’t move for a moment, letting her adjust to him before he moves. When you nod for him to continue, he begins moving, slowly but deep at first but he progressively gets quicker and harder. He squeezes your throat, not hard enough to gag you though. He relentlessly thrusts into you, holding you in place as he fucks you hard, the legs of the bench scraping against the floor. He leans down and begins whispering encouragement into your ear, occasionally pressing a kiss you your neck as he quickens his pace.

You feel that knot on your stomach tighten as you near the release you are so desperate for. “Fuck! Michael I- I’m close…” You whine, your legs moving to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as he fucks your cunt into oblivion. He lets out a small groan in response and tightens his grip around your waist. “Cum for me, love…” He whispers in her ear, wanting to feel her to cum all over his cock. You finally release, moaning his name and gripping his shoulders tightly. He feels the same knot in his stomach so he pulls out and releases, covering your thighs with his spend. You take some breaths as you ride out your high of ecstasy. He also takes a breath and grabs her panties off the piano, wiping his cum off your soft thighs then puts them in his pocket. You scowl at his use of her underwear and the fact that he’s keeping them. “What the hell are you going to do with my panties, Michael Gavey?” You ask him, sitting up as he pulls his pants up and buttons them. “I have some ideas.” You raise an eyebrow and smirk at his vague answer. “Like what?” You question curiously. “You’ll find out eventually, love.”

You giggle as he sits on the bench in front of you, setting you on his lap and kissing your neck. “I look forward to your next lesson.” Michael smirks into her skin, “As do I.”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading! I know I enjoyed writing it😏anyways… feel free to send some requests, I love hearing people’s ideas!💋

-Liv

[danysdragon]

Haunted

Aemond Targaryen x ghost!niece!reader

Summary: Aemond Targaryen is haunted by the ghost of the girl whose life was stolen at the hands of himself. He is fighting a mental battle, seeing her face in the shadows and walking about the Red Keep is truly a torturous and haunting sight…

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Brief mentions of smut. Dark context! Manipulation, taunting, blood, haunting, Aemond being in denial, large mentions of death!! Reader teasing Aemond and making him feel bad, Aemond crying, Aemond’s ego being beaten, mostly just regret and denial. Drunk Aegon, Aegon teasing Aemond, Aegon being a dick.

A/N: soooo… I was super excited to write this because it was on my mind for a while! I love the Aemond getting haunted ideas! I hope you love reading this story just as much as I loved writing it💋💋💋💋💋 the photos do not describe the reader in any way!

Aemond Targaryen is haunted. Haunted by the girl who stole his eye all those years ago. Haunted by the girl whose life he stole. He doesn’t know if he regrets what he did or not. But he does know that he is going to lose his sanity if she continues this. This little game of hers. She taunts him, and teases him. She enjoys it more than she enjoyed taking his eye, he thinks. When he sees her, he sees the blood seeping out of the soft skin of her stomach, her dress being stained by the red liquid. When her dragon was hit by dragonfire, it began going down. And she went down with it. She hit the rocks in the sea, dying immediately. She washed up on shore days later. He killed both her and her dragon. He did not mean for that to happen, though. You see, he was angry. He wanted revenge for what she did to him, but he never meant to take it that far. Now she’s dead, and it’s is his fault. It is also his fault this war has started. Rhaenyra was crushed after the death of her daughter, declaring war and demanding Aemond’s head. Alicent was also livid. Livid at how careless Aemond was with his actions resulting in the brutal killing of the girl. The girl he has reluctantly grown to love, but he shouldn’t. She’s dead because of him. And it doesn’t help that he sees her face every fucking day.

It was a busy day in the Red Keep. Helaena and Alicent attended Jahaerys’ funeral, Aegon killed one of the men that took the life of his boy, and Aemond visited a brothel. Aemond has been visiting the brothel a lot lately. He’s only doing this because of his conflicting emotions regarding the recent death of his niece. He needed comfort that his mother could not give him. He has come back and began thinking. He sits by the fire, waiting for her to show up. She always shows up around this time. He has taught himself not to be frightened of her visits, it will only make this battle worse.

He gazes at the flames dancing atop the burning wood in the fireplace. He pouts his lips in thought. The chair he sits on tonight is uncomfortable, more than usual. He can feel her presence, though, she hasn’t spoken yet. He will not look up from the fire until he hears her silky voice. “It is your fault he is dead.” She speaks, finally. Her voice is quiet now, compared to her voice when she was falling. Down and down, into the water. He sighs, his hand clenching into a fist against the arm rest of the chair. “Whose death are you speaking of?” He asks, knowing who she is speaking of, but wanting her to say it herself. “The boy. It was an action made in my mother’s words “blood for blood.” She spoke those words because of you. What you did to me.” He stands up, facing her. She is standing next to his chair, looking into his eye.

“Must you taunt me so?” The Kinslayer asks, not being able to look into her cold eyes. She doesn’t answer. She puts a finger on his chin, making him look up at her. “You did this to me, uncle. You put me here.” He is forced to look into her eyes, now not being able to look away. “Stop it, you’re not truly here.” He forces out. He sees the coldness, the anger, but also the teasing in her eyes. “Oh, but I am. I am in your skin, in your mind… In your heart. I am a part of you now, Aemond.” She takes a step closer, her cold lips nearly touching his. “You are nothing but a ghost, haunting me, torturing me.” Her eyes darken. “Is that all I am to you? Just another soul you snatched away because of your greed and selfishness?” She whispers to him, her voice like a soft breeze in a green forest. He sucks in a sharp breath, wanting to reach out and touch her. To pull her close to him and claim her body as he claimed her life. But he also wants to push her away at the same time. “Stop it.”

He is just about to push her back when he hears a loud knock on his door. Too aggressive to be a simple servant. He looks to the door then back at her, gently pushing her to leave. She sighs and takes a step back into the shadows, disappearing from his sight. He lets out a breath and sits back down in his large arm chair. “Enter.” He grumbles. The large, wooden door creaks open and he soon hears the irritating sounds of Aegon’s drunken laughter. He fights the urge to yell at him to get out, wanting to see his beautiful, darling niece again. The door shuts and Aegon plops down onto Aemond’s bed, still giggling like a child. “Evening brother, I hope I’m not interrupting your… conversations with your little ghosts and such.” He says with a chuckle, looking at his brother. Aemond wonders why Aegon is drunk now. “What do you want brother?” Aemond hisses, not in the mood for Aegon’s antics. “I just wanted to speak to you about… this war, and all these deaths. Father, my son… our niece.” Aemond winces at the mention of his niece. Aegon knows he struck a nerve. That’s what he does, he loves taunting Aemond until he snaps. “What about them?” Aemond isn’t in the mood for Aegon’s games. He doesn’t look at the king, thinking that if he looked, he would become even more irritated.

“Oh, you know… I was thinking. Thinking about you. And our sweet niece. I always thought that there was something between you both. Until you killed her. I wouldn’t be surprised if you two fucked while the Blacks were here to see our dying father. Perhaps it was in your bed, or in a closet… Or on the dining table-“ Aemond snaps. “Get out.” Aegon stops laughing and looks at Aemond, a bit offended and confused. “Sorry? I don’t think I heard you correctly, brother.” Aemond stands up and faces Aegon, peering into his soul like a predator eyeing its prey. “Get out, brother. Now.” Aegon’s eyes darken and his smile completely fades. “Alright then. I’ll leave.” He gets up and begins walking to the doors. He stops and looks at the prince. “It’s a shame she’s dead. I know how badly you yearn for her.” He finally leaves, shutting the door with a small slam. The young prince lets out an irritated sigh, sitting back down. The fire is slowly dying.

He can feel her presence back again. She gently puts her hands on his shoulders behind him, her hands cold. He feels this pain in his heart. He knows she is not truly here, and it’s his fault. He did that to her. And now he’s haunted because of what he did, forever haunted by the ghost of his sweet niece. The girl that was simply trying to protect her brothers all those years ago, causing him to lose an eye. She leans down and gently presses her frigid lips to his jaw. He lets out a small hum, not stopping her from commencing her actions. Her lips slowly trail down to his upper neck, just under his jaw. Her tongue darts out of her mouth to taste his smooth skin. He lets out a small whimper of pleasure and need as he feels her tongue dance on his skin. He feels her hand snake around his throat, squeezing a bit, not hard enough to choke him, but hard enough to make him feel it. She sucks and nips at his sweet spot, enjoying the sounds he’s making. Until she suddenly stops. And he no longer feels her lips on his neck and her hand on his throat. He doesn’t feel her at all. She’s disappeared once again. He sighs at the loss of contact, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

Until next time, ghostly girl.

Hello loves! I hope you enjoyed reading! This was a short one but I truly enjoyed writing it. Hope you liked it!💋

-Liv💋

[danysdragon]

In pursuit of being silly Ewan girlies, I have a creative exercise for you:

All the Ewan character are getting acrylic nails. They have no option to not get them, they have to get their nails did. So, what do their nails look like? Who feels the most fabulous? Who is so debilitated by the extensions that they can’t even call their mom to cry about it?

I am all about this ask. I am going to include pictures too.

Abraham: short enough to be practical, a single colour that matches his clothes

Aemond: would absolutely love having acrylics, and would make a show of tapping them on the council table.

Billy Taylor: embarrassed by them and goes for the most neutral looking ones he can find.

Billy Washington: tries to make them look as "manly" as he possibly can

Ettore: wants them as sharp and pointy as possible, so he can use them as a weapon

Genyen: practical, so that he's still able to shoplift with ease

Michael: they would ruin his life and he wouldn't know what to do with them, but he'd go for a fun, dorky design

Osferth: earth tones, with a practical length

Tom: would go really cunty with them and match them to his sailor's outfit

[danysdragon]

Literally them 💎🕷️

[danysdragon]

[danysdragon]

ALICENT + baby bump

[danysdragon]

EMMA D'ARCY as RHAENYRA TARGARYEN — 2.04 | "The Red Dragon and the Gold"

[danysdragon]

Is it just me or does Vhagar kinda look like the yee dinosaur?