DANCING WITH DRAGONS ;; a collection of imagines.

daemon targaryen ; trepverter

⁀➷ summary ; drabble requested by a mutual for my 1k follower celebration on tumblr.

"Another celebration request with Trepverter for DAEMON please!"
"trepverter: a witty response or comeback you think of only after it's too late to use."

⁀➷ pairing ; daemon targaryen x reader

⁀➷ notes ; you know that moment when you're bantering with someone and you're both smiling at each other and there's a moment of romance that's sprinkled in and you're distracted so you can't say some smart ass remark in response so the other person is smug about winning? yeah this is that enjoy my pining and my pain and poor depiction,, DIALOGUE HEAVY

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"nuha kep kirin isa."

"nuha kepa kirine issa," daemon corrects, the valyrian language rolling off his tongue with expert pronunciation. you huff, settling on the chair across from him with defeat.

"i can't speak it the way you do," you complain, setting the book on to the table beside you. your hands move to rub at your temples, the beginning of a headache starting to set in. "my tongue forbids it."

"there's always lessons in failures," daemon muses, flipping absentmindedly through the pages of his book that he was supposed to be reading – though he seemed more adamant to skim the pages.

you inhale deeply, settling back into the chair when the throbbing in your temple slowly subsides, "i'm sure you're very wise by now then, daemon."

the man beside you shoots you a look, his eyes narrowing and a sly smile creeping on his lips.

"you think you're clever, don't you?" he retorts, looking back down at the book as if he wasn't interested in conversation.

your hands tent together, thumbs rubbing against one another as if they were the legs of a cricket, "i do, actually."

"not as half as you think you are," he hums.

"more than you still, i reckon."

there's a teasing grin that widens your small smile. teeth gently bite your bottom lip, trying you best to conceal your delight from the banter. daemon gives you a look and raises his brow, shutting his book. he leans forward, head tilting.

"do you really want to start something you can't finish?" he asks, voice low and taunting. the smile was evident in his tone.

"like you couldn't finish rhea royce?" you jeer, hand moving over your mouth to stifle the giggle that was surely about to come out. it was childish really, but daemon was the perfect bantering partner – there were no limits and certainly no ill-will.

his mouth hangs in surprise, both his brows raising to knit together in the middle of his forehead. he gives a short chuckle, one that sends a sweet tingle down your spine.

"maybe i should have your tongue then," he hums.

"you'd miss me too much daemon – i've been told i'm wonderful company." your fingers dance along the edge of the table.
daemon moves forward, "i wouldn't be so presumptuous."

with his retort, you laugh. the two of you lock eyes; both faces gentle and enlightened by the jests you were sharing. there's a glint in daemon's eye; something akin to mischief. the stare you share is unwavering, met with kindness and something that almost resembles adoration. the stillness dances between you, almost as if you're both the only people in the world.

this is the side to him that he doesn't show often, but when he does, you love the thrill it gives you. he enjoys that you're able to keep up and even throw him off his tracks.

except this time, you're the one thrown off your game by a single look and phrase.

you open your mouth but no sly comment comes out, only a stammer that's incoherent to the ears.

with no witty comeback, daemon grins triumphantly and gets up, moving past you to rub his hand on your shoulder. the action sends butterflies spiraling in your stomach.

"i did warn you wouldn't be able to finish."

frustration gnaws at you and you chew on the inside of your cheek. you were on top of him, figuratively, and he somehow found a way to dismantle yourself. it was irritating how wittily sneaky he was.

you think long and hard, trying to find a response that will match his and cause him to come marching right back in.

in a sputtering last attempt, you yell, "neither could you!" you mentally curse yourself for the rather lame comment.

instead of marching back in like you had hoped, his chuckle echos in the hall outside the room as he leaves you.