#demon!aemond

Aemond’s all-time favorite strategy? The look. If someone flirts with you, they’ll be haunted by his unblinking stare and that little smirk that tells "Go on. Try again. Try harder."

You find it extremely sexy. The victim’s self-esteem crashes through the floor, though. They learn fast not to try again. Ever.

If someone’s stupid enough to keep pushing? Aemond pays them a visit on some dark, empty street

But if someone actually makes you laugh? That’s the real catastrophe

Aemond goes into full existential crisis mode. That demon stare? Gone

You: Aemond, are those puppy eyes? Aemond: [disappears]

If he's meeting any future clients afterward? The price is twice what was discussed. Maybe three times

Someone dares to negotiate? Congrats. They’ve just sold their soul

Will beat the shit out of another demon just to let off steam

Then he’s right back at your side, watching you sleep like nothing happened

The next morning, you wake up to a gift. Just a random thing you mentioned weeks ago, and it’s there now

Expensive gifts? Absolutely!

Anything to get that smile for himself

Maybe it’s his way of proving he’s worthy of your love

But if you flirt with someone else? OHH BOY

He knows what you’re doing. Doesn’t make him want to murder the guy any less

Public place sex: GUARANTEED.

He makes sure the guy you flirted with knows exactly what you’re doing, what he’s doing to you behind the closed door

Or… let’s be real, he wouldn’t bother keeping the doors closed. Why ruin the fun? Isn’t it what you wanted?

Back home, he’s more relentless, with more rounds and a few spanks here and there

When the night’s over, you won’t just forget that guy’s name, you won’t even remember he existed

Your hand hovers just above his for a moment before you give in. His grip is firm as his fingers settle over yours, intertwining as he leads you deeper into the restaurant, into the unknown.

"Everyone’s staring," you murmur. The realization comes slowly, drawn out by the awareness of countless eyes tracking your every step. It hadn’t occurred to you before how nerve-wracking it would be to be seen with Aemond. The ladies' looks are almost palpable—they'd kill to be in your place. Meanwhile, the men’s lingering stares are devouring, as if they envy Aemond as much as they desire to be him. Demon and his lady-client. You wonder if anyone can tell.

Aemond glances over his shoulder, meeting your gaze. “Let them stare,” he says, unbothered. His voice is calm, unconcerned, as if he’s long since grown used to the attention. “What’s this work you mentioned?” he asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

"A rewrite," you answer, only now realizing the alcohol has settled into your veins faster than expected. The room seems sharper, every color richer.

“Of what?”

“A restaurant scene,” you reply, a hint of irony in your voice as your heels echo on the marble floor.

“Don’t,” he says over his shoulder.

You blink, disoriented for a split second. "Don’t what?"

"Rewrite it." He doesn’t turn fully, only angles his head slightly. "It’s good."

"Sue thinks—wait, what?" Your breath catches, your mind sharpening against the pleasant haze as you finally catch the meaning behind his words. "Did you read my notes?"

He says nothing. But you feel it—the subtle curve of his lips.

Heat prickles along your spine. That means he knows. He knows what inspiration you’ve drawn from him, what form it has taken on the page.

But before you can demand an explanation—or die of mortification—you find yourself standing at a table where six men sit, dressed in dark suits and polished shoes. They’re oddly similar, like carbon copies of each other, created from suspicion and self-importance. Their eyes pierce into you, as if peeling back your layers.

“Ah, gentlemen,” Aemond says, his presence expanding, filling the space with his chilling aura, as if the very air trembles before the unseen force. “The wait is over.”

I’d say he first doubts whether he should stay or leave. His typical pattern, as you’ve described, is to slip away, and we know from chapters 1-2 that he uses his powers to make the reader fall asleep so he doesn’t have to deal with awkward goodbyes (which tells us something pretty interesting about him:) But now, he’s not sure how our girl feels after everything. So maybe he asks himself, "what would I do if I were human?" Then he cringes at himself and that thought, and all those questions you posed describe his denial deliciously!

Then he comes up with the idea for the next errand and OH, what a suddenly reasonable demonic excuse to stay and wait until she wakes up! His intent to make breakfast is definitely an unconscious way of asking, "ARE WE GOOD????"

My bet is that when he sees she’s enjoying the breakfast, it’s a weight off his shoulders. This big, scary and powerful demon has definitely spent a great amount of time staring blankly inside the fridge, trying to figure out what he can whip up. I’m backing you up on his cooking experience 100%! Since demons feed on emotions, the culinary world is a whole new realm to him. Do you think he’d take her laptop to watch a quick tutorial on how to make scrambled eggs?