#she's the queen of the kings alright

[naniyo]

Bojan: Hey, how's it goin- Jere: I fuck some other guy to our song and I'm marrying my sister, where you been Bojan: IT'S ONLY BEEN A MONTH Jere: I panic

[cloudsoffire]

big godzilla fan but i will never in my life interact with the fandom based on what i've seen on here

[barbieaemond]

Nothing is more self healing than putting the one eyed menace in his place (spoilers for TKOQ)

“Will you meet my requests?” “About your dragon? Can’t she hunt on her own?” “In the Red Waste? In these barren lands? Perhaps you should put your pretty head outside the city walls and see with your own eyes how big she is.” “You seem very keen on emphasizing how big your dragon is. I should hope it’s not a compensating factor for the lack of something else.”

[moss-flesh]

ok caved watched bridgerton

[princessbellecerise]

Court Shenanigans

Summary ✩ Missing their father, your children decide it’s a good idea to interrupt him in the middle of court

Warnings ✩ Mentions of pregnancy

Authors Notes ✩ Everyday I cry cause this man isn’t real but at least I have fanfic

You tried to stop them, you really did.

But being almost nine moons pregnant and having the most swollen feet known to man, it was almost impossible to chase after and keep up with two rowdy tots.

Usually, their nursemaids would have them by now and would be helping to assist you, but Aliza was sick and Joanna was with her family. Both of them would have scolded you for trying to run when you couldn’t even see your feet, but your kids were a mischievous bunch and you had a sinking feeling on where they were headed.

Aemma, the eldest of the two twins, had been complaining all day about not being able to see her father, as Jace had missed out on breakfast and lunch with her in order to hear a few extra petitions.

It seemed as if the Kingdom was more unruly than usual, and Lords had come from all over the realm to plead their cases.

Wanting to be a good King and make sure that he could adhere to all of his subjects, Jace had opted to spend a little extra time on the throne and a less with his family.

This of course didn’t sit well with Aemma, and as her shadow Jaelin followed right on along with her.

Try as you might have, you weren’t fast enough to catch up to them and your protests for them to stop didn’t do much good, either.

Before you could even blink, your twins were flying past the Kingsguard and bursting into the throne room, with little Aemma’s excited shouting making you want to crawl into a hole right there and then.

“Kepa!”

In no time your baby girl ran across the room, interrupting some poor Lord under a pink banner. You thought that he might’ve been from White Harbor, or maybe he was from Maidenpool.

Whatever it was, you didn’t pay much attention as suddenly, all chatter stopped, and you were the center of attention as you wobbled towards Jacaerys and fixed Aemma with a stern glare.

“Aemma! Come back here!” You shouted after her sternly, and thankfully Jaelin was too afraid of your ‘motherly voice’ to get any closer.

He stopped just short of the Iron Throne, choosing to remain by Ser Darklyn’s side rather than follow his sister up the steps. With horror, you realized that Aemma was headed straight to Jacaerys, exclaiming happily as she threw herself in her father’s open arms.

“Kepa!”

She bounced excitedly as Jace pulled her on his lap, looking amused while you struggled to catch your breath.

Running at your size was no joke, and you ached to sit down somewhere and rest. You couldn’t do that though while your two year old twins were causing mayhem.

It was unbefitting of a Queen, you knew that, but desperation had you hiking up your dress, climbing the the steps, and holding your arms out expectantly while Jace chuckled.

“Aemma. It’s time to say goodbye to Kepa and go back to our chambers. Now,” You told her, but that only resulted in the toddler shaking her head and burying herself even deeper into Jacaerys’ arms.

“No! I want to stay with Kepa!” Her defiant little voice shouted, and you winced as a few murmurs echoed through the court.

You were painfully aware that everybody was staring at the scene, which made it even more embarrassing when you reached out again and failed to grab Aemma.

After about the third attempt to pull her away with no avail, your husband seemed to finally take pity on you and sighed.

“It’s alright my love. She can stay,” Jacaerys said, and upon hearing this Aemma beamed. “It’ll be her seat one day after all. Let her gain some experience; even if it is during the middle of a petition.”

You gave him an apologetic look, and you made a mental note to apologize to Lord…well, whoever you were currently interrupting. You had to admit, the sight of Aemma babbling broken phrases to Jace while she tried to grab his crown was adorable.

You sighed reluctantly.

“Alright,” You said, willing to leave Aemma where she was. At the very least you could persuade Jaelin to follow you and take him away, but as you turned to go back down the stairs you suddenly paused.

Had there always been that many, you wondered?

You hadn’t really paid attention that much, but now that your feet were practically screaming at you to sit down, the idea of going down so many steps didn’t seem so appealing.

Of course, you could’ve just asked one of the Kingsguard to help you down, but you didn’t want to be a bother—as silly as it sounded. You also didn’t want to risk your knees giving out and falling, either.

You were in a dilemma, but before you could even decide, Jace did it for you. Your husband, ever attentive, noticed your hesitation and immediately got up.

“Here, my love. Why don’t you rest and I’ll stand for now,” He suggested.

Even more whispers broke out at this. What Jacaerys was proposing was sweet, but it had never happened before and the idea of the Queen sitting on the throne in the presence of the King was…well it was simply unheard of.

You were sure a few people would call the action scandalous, but at the moment though, you didn’t really care what they thought. Your feet were aching and you needed a place to sit down before your knees decided where for you, so you nodded and accepted his offer.

“Thank you, my love.”

You sighed in relief as you sat on the throne. Albeit, it wasn’t the most comfortable of seats with all the swords and points, and you would’ve much rather been in your cushioned chair in your chambers, but it was better than nothing and the pressure on your feet was gone.

Nodding his head, Jacaerys gave you a small kiss on the side of your head and then he stood with Aemma in his arms, and gestured for Lord whoever to keep speaking.

Had you not been out of breath, you would have laughed at his face and the face of many others as they not only witnessed their King give the most powerful seat in the realm to his pregnant wife, but also witnessed him stand up while bouncing his baby daughter in his arms.

It was an unusual sight, but an adorable one that you cherished.

Motioning to Ser Darklyn to bring Jaelin up so that your family would complete, you smiled in content and Jacaerys once again motioned for the man who had been interrupted to continue his petition.

“Lord Mooton. Please, do continue,” He said with a large smile.

You giggled.

Ah, so that was his name.

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]

[entitled-fangirl]

Doll.

Cregan Stark x Velaryon!wife!reader

Summary: Cregan is a girl dad. That’s it. That’s the summary.

Masterlist

………………………….

"Where are you, my perfect girl?" Cregan wondered aloud as he walked to the door.

His daughter, Lyanna, sat in her chambers, brushing the string hair of her favorite doll.

Only three now, she was a striking resemblance to her mother- violet eyes and that silver Targaryen hair.

He smiled as he leaned onto the doorframe and watched her.

She looked up to him with her bright eyes and held her doll out to him.

He chuckled lightly and walked into the room, kneeling next to her and taking her doll, "What am I to do with it?"

"Brush."

He raised his eyebrows but made no move to argue, running his fingers through the tangled string of the doll.

The doll was well aged it seemed, having been dragged everywhere they went. It held the same features as she did, clearly custom made to hold the same look.

Cregan never considered he'd get even more protective when the child began to slowly look like her mother.

Speaking of, Y/n entered the chambers with a smile, "And just what exactly are you two doing in here?"

Cregan only turned his head with a smirk, but Lyanna jumped up and ran to her mother, giggling when she was picked up with ease.

He watched the two approach him as Y/n took in the sight, "Brushing hair, are we, my love?"

He let out a breathy laugh, "I was commanded to, I'm afraid. Princess's orders."

Y/n mocked surprise, "A princess's orders? Well, you can't deny those, can you, Lord Stark?"

Lyanna giggled again, finding comfort in her mother's arms.

But her mother frowned, "Lyanna, why don't we brush your hair now? It seems we've been focused on the wrong hair."

Cregan looked up at that, only now noting the tangled mess that was his daughter's hair.

She huffed and shook her head.

Y/n gave her a patient smile, "You shall feel better when you do."

Lyanna shook her head again with a mean grunt.

Y/n's eyes lit up and she leaned to rest her forehead on the side of the girl's head, "If you let me brush your hair, surely your father will let you brush his."

Lyanna's eyes lit up excitedly, and Cregan's widened.

The woman looked to Cregan, "If that's alright."

He hesitantly nodded, "If it gets her hair brushed, I suppose."

Lyanna then began to wiggle, and Y/n set her down, watching as the girl ran around the room, grabbing all of her combs and hair ties.

Y/n took a moment to lean down and give Cregan a soft kiss, "You look dashing today, my prince."

Lyanna paused and looked at the two, "Papa's not a prince."

The two couldn't stop soft chuckles from leaving their lips. Cregan spoke up, "I only am because of your mother."

The girl looked more confused than before.

Y/n reached out and pulled the girl towards the bed. Y/n sat at the foot of it, having her girl stand so she was the right height for brushing. She became to patiently and softly comb through the hair of her daughter, "You truly are a princess, you know, Lyanna."

Her head tilted, "But why?"

Cregan stood himself up and walked towards them, "Because your mother is a princess, too."

"No, mama would be a queen. And papa is the king," she said nonchalantly as if common sense.

Cregan laughed and set himself in front of his daughter with his back to her, fulfilling his promise of brushing his hair, "I am no king, darling."

Y/n spoke up again, "Your grandmother, Rhaenyra, is the Queen. Grandsire Daemon is the King consort. Everyone else are the princes and princesses."

"Uncle Jace?"

Her mother nodded as she worked a knot through, "Yes. Even uncle Jace."

Lyanna took that for an answer and began to hastily run a comb through her father's long locks, practically tangling it more than before, but he allowed her to.

"Your mother once lived in a large castle," Cregan smiled. "With servants and guards and large dragons!"

Their daughter's eyes widened, "Dragons?"

He nodded, amused that he had caught her attention, "Oh, yes. Very large dragons. Ones that breathe fire when commanded."

"But only when their Targaryen rider commanded," Y/n chirped up to keep their daughter from panicking.

Lyanna hummed as she worked on her father's hair, seemingly unaware of her mother still working through hers. "Are they mean?"

Y/n smiled, "Oh. No. Dragons are quite kind when they wish to be. Their size is the scariest part."

Cregan reached out, picking up the doll again and messing with it absentmindedly.

"Hey!" Lyanna yelled. "That's mine!"

Y/n frowned, but her voice never rose, "Do not yell at your father."

"He has my favorite doll! Give it back!"

Cregan turned his body around completely to look at his girl. He held that commanding look in his eye that he rarely wore around his family, "Excuse me?"

Lyanna's brows furrowed and she held her hand out, "Give it back."

Y/n leaned back, abandoning the hair brush to watch Stark blood fight itself.

Cregan's shoulders pushed back, "Do not speak to anyone that way, much less your father."

Lyanna stomped her foot, "It is mine!"

He forced himself to take a deep sigh and his voice lowered in pitch and volume, "Speak again in this manner, and I will take the doll away."

Their daughter grew angry quickly. "DON'T!"

Y/n frowned, "Cregan-"

But it was too late. He stood up with the doll in hand and placed it on top of the dresser, out of the girl's reach.

She immediately turned to her mother and wailed. Y/n pulled her into her lap, comforting her.

Cregan looked at his wife with a disapproving gaze, "Do not-"

"Cregan." She spoke gently, "Be delicate with our girl."

"She's playing you for a fool."

Lyanna pulled away from her mother with puffy red eyes and tear streaks on her cheeks. Y/n gently wiped the tears away and cooed at the girl. Lyanna sniffled as she spoke, "Then I'll… I'll lose you."

Y/n frowned, "My girl, what do you mean?"

"I won't have you."

"I'm right here, Lyanna."

"But then you'll leave."

Y/n looked up to Cregan, who looked just as confused as her. He knelt down beside the two, "Your mother is not leaving, Lyanna."

"She'll… she'll leave the room… and… and I won't have her anymore."

Her mother quickly connected the dots. "My sweet girl. Is that doll me?"

Lyanna nodded and hiccuped lightly.

Cregan felt his heart drop to his stomach. What horrid father takes away a reminder of the girl's mother?

Y/n cooed, "Lyanna, I am safe. You are safe. Your father makes sure of it."

"But when you leave, I won't have you."

Y/n felt her eyes water and her lip tremble. She pulled the girl off of her lap and into Cregan's arms. "I can't…" She stood suddenly and left in a rush.

Cregan held the girl firmly, trying to distract her from her mother's absence. "Dear daughter. Please listen. Your mother loves you very much. With or without a doll, your mother will not leave. Not ever."

Lyanna sniffled but nodded.

He smiled lightly, "C'mere, girl."

The child practically melted against her father's chest.

…

Cregan later creaked open the chamber door that he shared with his wife.

She sat in the bed, her eyes puffy from a past session of crying.

"My love, what happened?"

She sniffled and shrugged, "'M fine. Overwhelmed, I suppose."

He nodded, walking up to the bed. He brushed hair from her forehead and placed a kiss there. "Lyanna is fine now. She fell asleep."

Y/n sighed, "I should have been more help."

"No. No. That's fine. You did what you could."

"It was the doll," she sniffled.

He took a breath as he sat on the bed. "Alright?"

She looked up and smiled through her tears, "Your hair is horrendous from Lyanna's brushing. Let me fix it."

He gave a playful huff and sat in front of her, his back to her once again. "Talk to me."

"I had a favorite doll when I was younger. Much like her," she said as she ran her fingers through the reddish locks. "But… It looked much different. Brown hair, and dark eyes."

Cregan imagined it in his head, unsure of where she was going with it.

"I always thought that… that my doll was so beautiful. And… and I looked nothing like it."

A breath escaped him as he began to understand. "So you believed-"

"-I believed that I was ugly."

"You know that's not true."

"I do now. I didn't then."

He felt her begin to part his hair and pull lightly at various parts. "I don't quite understand still."

"Our daughter sees me in her favorite doll. I… I could receive no greater honor."

"Ah." He was sure she was braiding his hair at this point.

Silence filled the room for a while and he relaxed into her hold. Finally he spoke, "I have petitions after this."

"I know."

He frowned, "What are you-"

"-Let me finish!" She giggled.

He playfully huffed and kept still.

A while later, she tied off the braids and kissed the crown of his head from behind. "Finished."

"Thank you, my love." He stood and approached the vanity to see her handiwork. Two braids ran down the top of his head, keeping the top layer of his hair up. "This is… rather impressive."

She smiled, "I am a Velaryon. If I know anything, it is how to braid."

He smiled back, moving to her and pulling her in to his arms, "I'm sorry for before. I should have spoken calmly to her. I lost my temper."

She leaned against him, "We all make mistakes, Cregan."

He nodded, "You have no idea how frustrated I get when she looks like you, but attains my stubbornness."

She began to laugh, "Well, perhaps the next one will be the opposite."

He frowned, "The next one? When will that be?"

She took his hand, leading it down to her currently flat stomach, "Maester says almost seven months to wait."

Cregan's eyes widened, "W… T… Truly?"

Y/n smiled, "Truly."

He let out a surprised and excited breath, grabbing her face and pulling her into a searing kiss. He pulled away and stared into her eyes, "Another one."

"Another one."

"The gods have blessed me tenfold."

"Aye. But you have to be the one to tell Lyanna that she will not be an only child."

He grinned, "A small price to pay, I assure you."

………………………………

Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

[nebulaafterdark]

A Marriage For Love

Summary: When Y/N and Aegon receive news that they cannot wed, they flee King’s Landing for a simple life in Bravvos. Upon returning to visit their families, they find themselves face to face with the consequences of their actions. Cheesy, targcest, idiots in love. Based off this request.

“We mustn’t allow them to carry on like this!”Alicent shouts.

“I agree,” Rhaenyra says, heartily. “Keep your son away from my daughter.”

“Keep your daughter away from my son!” Alicent bites out. “She should begin preparing for her marriage to the Lord of the Riverlands as Aegon should be spending more time with Helaena.”

“Mayhaps there is a simpler solution.” The King sighs, with a hand to his head.

“What is it you suggest, father?” Rhaenyra wonders.

“We might betroth Y/N and Aegon.” He smiles, looking between his daughter and wife.

“You may betroth my firstborn son to her…plain featured daughter when I am cold and in my grave.”

“Alicent!” Viserys roars.

Aegon wastes no more time listening to them quarrel, setting off in search of Y/N. He finds her in the library, as she often is. “Y/N,” he kneels before her chair. Closing the book and using his finger against the binding to hold her place.

Y/N looks up at him. “What is it?”

“There is something I must tell you.” From the time they were small, Y/N has been the one to hold his secrets.

“Speak it,” she squeezes his wrist.

“Only moments ago my father offered to betroth us, our mothers rejected the proposal. They want your hand for some River Lord and mine for Helaena.”

“No.”

Aegon cups her face in his hand. “Come away with me. We can build a new life, together. It may not be as lush, but it will be ours. You will still have your cakes as they please you, I swear it.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would do more for you and worse.” Aegon smirks.

“Well…what shall I bring?” Y/N asks, ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest.

“Pack sparingly, a change of clothes or two. We’ll need gold and jewelry to trade; enough to get us started.”

“Where will we go?”

“One of the free cities,” he decides, “no one will be looking for us there. And it does not have to be forever, long enough for us to get married. If we’ve a child, they’ll have no choice but to honor our union.”

“Alright,” Y/N swallows.

“Go now,” he presses his lips to her forehead. “Meet me at the dragon pit in one hour’s time.”

The princess nods, nuzzling against him for just a moment before they break apart.

By the time anyone comes looking for them, Y/N and Aegon are long gone. Leaving behind only a note.

‘If you will not allow us to marry for love, we will do so elsewhere.’

King Viserys is so distraught at the news, he passes with the shock of it.

Rhaenyra takes her place as Queen, refusing to rename her heir.

————————————————————————

Life is different in Braavos, no maids, dragon keepers nor castle. Aegon cuts his hair up to his chin on the day of their wedding, freeing himself from the memories it holds.

There are rumors of course, about the town baker and his wife, the tailor, who may or may not be the long lost prince and princess. Their dragons do nothing to disprove these whispers, however they do stop them from reaching the Red Keep.

Years pass, news breaks that Y/N is with child, growing rounder by the day.

After a long day’s work, Aegon is exhausted, shucking off his boots near the door of their humble abode and bringing his wife an offering of sweets.

Y/N smells Aegon before she sees him, calling out from the kitchen, “what have you brought me today, husband?”

“What if it were for me, spoiled thing?” Aegon chuckles, lying his offering on the counter to wrap his arms around her. Their babe kicking at his palms.

Y/N reaches back, cupping his cheek. “Best turn about and fetch mine then.”

He smiles, pressing kisses to her shoulder. “How is our little dragon treating you?”

“Well enough,” Y/N sighs, stirring the broth. “I have not wretched this day.”

“That is good.” He pats her belly. “I brought you cake.”

“What kind?”

“Dinner first, my heart.” Aegon insists.

“Or I could have cake for dinner.”

Aegon sighs, as she leans into him.

“Please?”

“Very well.”

Y/N turns to face him, abandoning her cooking in favor of his kiss. “Thank you.”

————————————————————————

Bringing their love into the world is a long and grueling task, Aegon keeps her spirits up as best he can. Unfortunately there is only so much a man can do for a laboring wife.

Y/N is exhausted by the time she delivers the afterbirth, fighting sleep as she nurses their newborn daughters. A task she deems horribly painful in itself.

Aegon strokes her hair, whispering words of love and encouragement until the babes are satisfied. “You rest now, I will bathe them.”

His wife does not protest, allowing her heavy eyes to close.

Neither of the twins cry, until gods forbid he sets them down. “Shh,” Aegon hushes them, taking one in each arm. “Papa put you down for only a moment, surely you cannot be held at all times.”

The babe on the left yawns, stretching out her little arms. The babe on the right merely blinks at him.

Until they learn to crawl, Dahlia and Visera are indeed held at all times.

————————————————————————

By the time their sons are born, Y/N often tells stories of her family back in King’s Landing. Her mother especially, who she wishes to meet them.

Aegon returns from the dragon’s nest with two new eggs, one for each of their boys. “Stormborn and Sunfyre are thoughtful, they deliver us clutches in pairs.”

Y/N smiles, from their dragons came an egg for each of their children. “Let’s see.” She waves her husband over.

Their eldest son, Laenor, toddles toward him, pointing to the bright golden egg, “mine.”

“Ah, ah, hold on just a moment now.” Aegon says.

“Please?” The two year old pouts.

“Yes, alright.” Aegon sets the dark blue egg down beside his wife and youngest son. “We must be careful with it now, sit in Papa’s lap. We’ll hold it together, hmm?”

Laenor claps his little hands together, reaching up for his father.

Aegon backs up to the arm chair, holding the egg above his head, “climb up.”

Laenor furrows his brow, crawling into his father’s lap.

“There we are, my boy.” Aegon holds the egg infront of him, allowing Laenor to touch the egg’s scales.

“Look, Papa.” He points.

“I see, my love. Soon it will be a little dragon, just for you.”

Laenor squeals in delight, “Mama, look.”

“I see it, sweet boy. That is a lovely egg.” Y/N grins.

Dahlia and Visera play happily on the floor with their own dragons, still small enough to tote about.

At all of six months old, Aegon the fourth has no understanding of the word gentle, he slaps at the egg like a drum.

“Aegon!” Y/N can’t help but laugh, moving him away. “You must be kind to your dragon.”

“Him fly!” Laenor tells his brother, who merely stares back at him with a toothy grin.

“Yes, he will fly.” Aegon smooths down the curls at the back of his son’s head.

“When your uncle Joffrey, was born Ser Harwin took Jace, Luce and I down to the dragon pit to find the perfect egg.” Y/N recounts, with a far off look in her eyes. “He must be a man grown now.”

Aegon clears his throat, praying he does not live to regret what he murmurs next. “What if we went to visit your mother?”

“Well…” Y/N sighs, patting her son’s legs as he climbs over her. “We couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Aegon challenges, “it’s a short trip on dragon back.”

Y/N stares down at her hands, “my mother must be very angry at me.”

“My mother was never anything but angry with me.” Aegon chortles, “Rhaenyra will get over it.”

“Are you certain?” Y/N frowns, “I know how you detest court.”

Aegon nods, “for you, the world.”

————————————————————————

Word spreads through the streets of King’s Landing like wildfire. Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon have returned to them.

Daemon is the first of their family members to cross their path, all but dragging Y/N to his wife in the throne room.

“You wait here,” he barks at Aegon. Leaving him outside with the children. “Princess Y/N Velaryon,” Daemon calls upon their entrance.

Rhaenyra moves to stand.

The king consort leaves them to it.

“Your grace, I would first like to apologize for my long absence.” Y/N says, as her mother stalks toward her; expression unreadable.

Rhaenyra pulls her daughter into her arms, cradling the back of her head. “You must never do that to me again.”

“Mother,” Y/N cries, clinging to her like a child. “I am so terribly sorry.”

“Shhh,” Rhaenyra sways her. “We can still make this right.”

“I should like that very much.”

“You need only say the word and I will have your marriage annulled.”

“What?” Y/N withdraws, “no. You cannot annul our marriage, it’s been consummated…several times over. We’ve children.”

“Children?” Rhaenyra sucks in a breath.

“Two daughters and two sons.”

“Might I see my grandchildren?”

“Of course,” Y/N holds up a finger, dashing over to the throne room doors and inviting her family inside.

The children scamper in as Rhaenyra’s eyes well with tears.

Dahlia stares at her grandmother in wonder, while Visera clings to Aegon’s leg.

“This is my mummy,” Y/N tells her children, “remember how I told you?”

Laenor moves toward her first, waving his hands.

“Well hello, my prince,” Rhaenyra bends down to greet him. “Who might you be?”

He smiles, “up.”

Rhaenyra huffs a laugh, taking him into her arms. “That’s quite a name, Prince Up.”

“It’s Laenor,” Y/N says, bringing Dahlia closer, with their hands clasped together. “This is Dahlia.”

“Good morrow,” Dahlia smiles.

“Good morrow, Dahlia. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Rhaenyra beams, “if you could put in a good word for me with your sister, it would be much appreciated.”

“Visera is shy.” Dahlia whispers, “but she will come round.”

Aegon the fourth kicks his chubby legs, squirming about in his father’s arms as they approach the Queen.

“My goodness.” Rhaenyra turns to him, “what a warm welcome.”

The little boy squeals, as Y/N takes him from Aegon, freeing his arms for Visera, who hides her face in his shoulder.

“And this is Aegon, the fourth.” Y/N smiles, presenting him to her mother.

Rhaenyra grins, “hello, sweet boy.”

He covers both eyes, with his little hands, babbling loudly.

“You are a delight.” Rhaenyra reaches a hand out, tickling his belly. “I should like you all to join us in the grand hall for supper tonight. We will feast, in your honor.”

“Mother, we did not prepare clothes for a feast.” Y/N tells her. “But if you’ve material, I will make do. In these past years, I have learned to stitch quite well.”

“And I could assist in the kitchens.” Aegon offers.

Y/N’s eyes light up, “you must taste his baking, mother. It is divine.”

Rhaenyra shakes her head. Not sparing a glance at her half brother, “you are my guests. I will have gowns and robes sent to your rooms. You will find everything as you left it.”

Y/N smiles, “we’ll see you for dinner then.”

The Queen nods, excusing them.

Y/N and Aegon lead the children away from the throne room, up the stairs toward Y/N’s old apartments. Meeting her younger brother and his heavily pregnant wife on the stairs.

“Sister?” Jacaerys blinks at her.

“Jace!”

“My love, might you find Luce and Joffrey?” Jacaerys asks of his wife. “Tell them our sister is here.”

“Of course, husband.” Baela leans in as his lips brush her cheek.

“You’re going to be a father?” Y/N grabs for his arm.

“I am a father.” Jace grins, “this will be our third.”

“Has it been that long?”

“Some seven years, sister.” Jacaerys looks to the children behind her. “And you,” he laughs, “have more to show for it than I do.”

Again Aegon is left standing off to the side as Y/N’s family fuss over her and their children. He is glad for it, surely. This is her dream, not his.

“Aegon?” Alicent gasps at the sight of him.

He turns to her slowly, “Mother?”

The Dowager Queen grimaces, “a word?”

“But of course.” Aegon steals one last glance at his wife and children before following his mother down the corridor. For a moment he thinks she might embrace him, until she grabs his face harshly between her fingers.

“What were you thinking?” Alicent seethes, “taking off like that? Putting your father in such a state of distress; his illness took him not even a day after receiving word that you stole his only granddaughter and heir to the throne.”

“Stole her?” Aegon huffs a laugh, “I did not steal her.”

“Did you not think for one second of the shame it would bring on your siblings, or me?”

“As you thought of my wants when you promised me to Helaena?” Aegon spits back.

“It was expected of you,” Alicent seethes.

“Only my supposed wrongdoings are ever clear to you.” Aegon scoffs, “so strike me for it, as you always do and let us be done with it. How dare I desire to marry the one person in the world who loved me?”

Alicent recoils as though he’s slapped her.

“Aegon?” Y/N calls for him, “where’ve you run off to?”

“I’m just here, darling girl.” Aegon replies, striding away from his mother.

“Is everything alright?” Y/N asks, holding a hand out to him.

“All is well, my dearest love.”

————————————————————————

Dinners at the Red Keep have not been this tense in years. Namely because the Blacks and Greens rarely break bread together.

Jacaerys’ and Baela’s children dance with their cousins as the quartet plays merrily, the six of them becoming fast friends.

Y/N laughs, pointing toward their eldest son. “Look, my love.”

Aegon leans his head closer to hers peering around his brother. Laenor spins round in circles until he is dizzy enough to fall over. When he is able to stand, he goes straight back to it. Aegon chuckles, “we’ll need to keep an eye on that one.”

“Without doubt.” Y/N remarks, bouncing Aegon the fourth in her lap. He grabs a fistful of her mashed potatoes.

“Oh my,” Aegon grabs his hand, wiping it clean with his napkin.

“You’d like dinner too, wouldn’t you?” Y/N says, turning the boy toward her.

Little Aegon coos at her.

Aegon presses a kiss to his son’s cheek.

“Won’t you excuse me for a moment,” Y/N addresses the table, “I need to feed him.”

“We’ve nurses,” Daemon offers. “You’re welcome to finish your meal.”

“That’s quite alright,” Y/N says, pushing away from the table. “We’ve survived without nurses thus far.”

Aegon catches her hand, “will you return or shall I bring the children up when they are through?”

“I will return, shortly.” Y/N squeezes his fingers before moving down the row of chairs into the hall.

Aegon clears his throat, as other occupants of the table eye him, warily. “Lovely meal.”

“Indeed,” Otto agrees.

————————————————————————-

Y/N wakes the next morn to rays of sun shining through the large window of her childhood bedchamber.

Aegon feels her begin to stir, tightening his hold around her waist.

“What did your mother say to you yesterday?”

“It is far too early to raise this matter, my heart.” He grumbles.

Y/N huffs, toying with his fingers. “She was awful to you, wasn’t she?”

Aegon presses his lips to her shoulder, “it matters not.”

“It matters to me.”

Days pass, Y/N does not press the subject. Though she does exercise every opportunity to glare at her mother by law.

They spend afternoons in the courtyard garden, with their children. Picking flowers to make crowns, finding shapes in the clouds.

“Just there I see a rabbit.” Visera tells her mother and father.

“Where?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“There’s the ears and there’s its tail.”

“Oh, I see.” Aegon spots it, “that’s quite a coat of fur on him, hmm?”

Aegon the fourth plucks petals from the wildflowers Dahlia weaves together, sighing as she does.

“What troubles you, my love?” Y/N asks, passing a hand over her silver waves.

“Everyone has been so kind and happy to receive us…though no one seems happy to receive father.” Dahlia says, taking one of the flowers and tucking it behind her Papa’s ear.

“That is the way of things, my darling.” Aegon smiles, sadly.

“We are happy to receive him.” Y/N insists. “Give father a big hug.”

Laenor sees the pile of bodies, throwing himself on top of his elder sisters.

“Squeeze him as tightly as you can and say ‘I love you, father.’”

“I love you, father!” Even Aegon the fourth chimes in, with a loud approving babble.

“I love you too.” Aegon tells his children, wrapping his arms around them.

“I think if no one is kind to you, we ought to go back home.” Visera whispers to him. “It needn’t be the way of things.”

“Too right you are, my darling.” Y/N breathes.

“Y/N, might I have a word with you?” Rhaenyra calls out to the courtyard.

“Of course, your grace,” she smiles, looking to her children. “Keep father company for me. I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra leads her farther into the gardens. “When you were a girl, your grandsire and I would bring you here to watch the changing of the leaves.”

“I remember.” Y/N says, wistfully.

“I owe you an apology,” Rhaenyra takes her hands. “For many years, I thought Aegon stole you away from me. I blamed him, for the death of our father.”

“It was not his fault, mother.” Y/N insists, “I wanted a marriage for love.”

“I see that now.” Rhaenyra assures her. “He is a fine husband to you and a good father to your children. I should not have pushed so relentlessly to end your union.”

Y/N shakes her head, “all is forgiven.”

“Even in our years apart, you have remained my heir. As I believe you would be a great ruling Queen, if that is what you desire. I will provide your children places of high status in court. For Aegon, a seat at the small council.” Rhaenyra offers, “and of course, my sincere apology for the way I have acted.”

“You wish for us to stay?”

Rhaenyra cups her cheek, “very much so.”

Y/N looks down at her wedding ring. “I know Alicent has been unkind to him. I will not stay in a place where he’s treated poorly.”

“I will speak with her.”

“And…I fear Aegon holds little interest in the small council.” Y/N admits, “I hope that too is negotiable.”

“All things are,” Rhaenyra assures her.

Taglist: @donalesaa @spacexdrago @shadowrose13-blog1 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @niyahnotnia @oh-you-mean-me @lycaonpictusphotography

[dooodle-bug]

just got mad thinking about how rouxls probably isnt even that good of a dad to lancer

[hildergard]

Could you do something where Aemond is already married/betrothed to a highborn lady that’s been approved by Alicent and Otto but he has a relationship with a low born woman (a brothel worker or any lowborn really) and once he becomes Prince Regent he starts bringing her around the castle, giving her a room to herself, treating her better than how a lowborn should be treated in Alicent and Ottos eyes and they don’t like it but Aemond doesn’t care.

MINE TO PROTECT ★ AEMOND TARGARYEN

PAIRING | Aemond Targaryen x Lowborn!Reader

TAGS | Suggestive content, swearing, possessive behaviour, classism

WORDCOUNT | 4k

NOTE | I have seen a lot of fanfictions where the Reader is a brothel worker so I made her a baker instead. I hope that's alright with you! Thank you so much for this great request! I had so much fun writing it <333

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

In the seedy streets of Flea Bottom, rumours travelled in a precise order, memorised by all.

A Lord, drunk with lust, would disclose the Crown’s secrets to a simpering whore, who would be quick⏤once the gold dragons were in her purse⏤to repeat what she had just heard, noble semen still running down her thighs. The other, much less wealthy, customers would then talk about it loudly in bars, attracting the attention of patrons who, once sober, had only to spread the news.

Today, the rumour burst into your little shop when Old Gerald came through the door, looking for his daily loaf of bread. 

 “Prince Aemond’s been made Regent," he said. 

For a second, you did not move. The dough fell on wood. Your floured hands remained stuck in the sticky, flabby mixture. It would have to be kneaded again. The sight of your dirty fingers woke you from your torpor. You gripped the towel from your apron and wiped your palms roughly before turning your back on your customer⏤less to get the fresh loaves of bread out of the oven than to regain your composure.

He had done it. 

Your shovel rasped against the burning slab of clay and peeled off the loaves. 

A few days earlier, when night had enveloped the citizens of King's Landing in its thick cloak, he had told you of his plans and dreams⏤the two were always intertwined, for Aemond Targaryen provoked fate rather than waited for it. His touch had done nothing to soften the brutality of his words. Sordid tales of fire and blood, the kind that filled the tomes of the Citadel. 

Even the Targaryens could not play with fire indefinitely. Aemond rose in the flames. For how much longer? You had protested, your voice hoarse from the moans he had managed to draw from your throat, but he would have none of it and simply told you to trust him, as if all this were far too complicated for you. 

And perhaps that was the case, for what did you know of war and power?

“What about his Majesty?" you asked.

Old Gerald tossed you three coppers, which you pocketed, before handing you a thick piece of cloth. 

“They say he perished in dragonfire. Seems Targaryens are closer to men, after all. With all this quarrel for t'throne, it were inevitable. And, let me tell you, it'll happen again. Today, a brother sits on t'throne. Tomorrow, it'll be an uncle or a sister. Things like that never end.”

You carefully wrapped the golden loaf in the cloth. 

“Wi' Rhaenyra in Dragonstone and his brother's heir dead, he’ll no doubt be crowned King. And the Lady Baratheon, Queen.”

You winced at the name but immediately hid your reaction with a tight smile. Gerald, bless him, took no notice of your torment. You handed the loaf of bread to the old cobbler, who nodded at you and returned to his shoes. 

The rumour ran on and kept you thinking all day. You burnt a dozen loaves of bread, spilt two sacks of flour and forgot to deliver her apple pies to Dorthy Porter, making you lose a silver stag and a customer.

When the key finally turned in the lock of the shop and cut you off from the rest of the world, your shoulders slumped. The sun and all its problems gave way to the moon. Under its silvery eyes, other rumours would no doubt spread but you did not wish to hear them. You longed for your straw mattress and the comfort of your dreams⏤perhaps your love would visit you there, also freed from the pressure the Gods were piling on his shoulders. 

Tiredness weakened your knees⏤you dragged your body more than you climbed the stairs to your modest bedroom. In the middle of the room, the bed and its pillow stretched out its arms to you. You let yourself fall into the feathery embrace and closed your eyes for a moment, praying to the Gods that you would find sleep easily. 

They ignored you. 

The doorbell rang. 

Your eyelids struggled to open. Sleep paralysed them⏤it clutched at your eyelashes and tried to keep them closed but you fought the temptation and, at last, gazed into the dim light of the room. Another series of blows, more hurried, struck against the wood. The whole  shop seemed to shake. 

“I’m coming, I'm coming…” you mumbled. 

You gasped as two members of the Kingsguard appeared on your doorstep, their cloaks far too white to be dragged through the muddy streets of Flea Bottom. 

“The Prince Regent, His Highness Aemond Targaryen, summons you.”

They did not care for your reply and seized you. You protested, demanded to be told the reason for this summon, but nothing would do. The guards dragged you like a rag doll through the streets of King's Landing, indifferent to your screams and struggle. Above and around you, the candlelight in the windows intensified. Some people poked their heads out to watch the racket. You lowered your chin and remained silent, but the damage had been done. 

Already, rumours were spreading. The baker had been arrested. What had she done? Who would make their bread from now on?  

The dizzy shadow of the Red Keep loomed larger and larger. Just the outline of it made your skin crawl. For the first time, you would be treading on the floor of Kings and Queens. You were being plunged headfirst into this unknown, powerful and dangerous place, populated by men and women who despised people like you. One of the guards tightened his grip around your arm. You yelped. Why were they taking you there? Aemond always came to you, not the other way round. 

Did someone know? You blanched. Impossible, you thought immediately. You had been cautious. 

But what if... What if someone had seen you, despite all your precautions? 

 Were they taking you to the Keep to put you to the sword?  

 A flash of fear stabbed you in the guts.  

You finally passed through the large gates of the castle. They were still open, yet, no one was in the courtyard. The swords were resting on the workbenches and the horses were asleep. Only a few guards patrolled the ramparts, their heads turned skywards in search of a dragon. 

“Hurry up, girl. The Prince is waiting.”

A solitary, proud figure emerged at the top of the stairs, in front of the entrance. His long white hair fluttered in the wind and the bluish moonlight accentuated his strict features and pale complexion. The mere sight of his face reassured you. You defied the guards and walked towards him. 

His rough hand⏤hardened by duty and war⏤gripped yours before thin lips kissed it. The Prince pulled you towards him. Your heart slowed as his familiar scent enveloped you and your shoulders relaxed. For a second, you surrendered to the comfort of his warmth and love. The smell of musk and leather soothed your body, but your head kept its wits about it.

“What's happening, Aemond?”

He closed his eye as his name fell from your lips and smiled. His hand came down and grasped your waist in a possessive embrace. You leaned into the touch. 

“There are rumours that Aegon–”

You squeaked. His fingers had dug painfully into your flesh at his brother's name. 

The mere mention of him brought back painful and humiliating memories, which your lover had confided to you, his head on your pillow. Even today, the wounds had not healed. They continued to transpire in every aspect of his life. You are the only thing he has not stolen from me, he had told you one night. Saying that name was like throwing his past back in his face and breaking your promise. He'll never succeed, you had replied, but today, Aegon was on your mind. What did his wound mean for the Crown, for you?

“Is it true?" you managed to articulate. 

“The Council has made me Regent," he nodded. “We will not need to hide any longer, my love.”

“What do you mean?”

But Aemond did not answer you. He smiled, tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and let his fingers brush your neck. With a nod, the kingsguards left. The clink of their armour echoed for long seconds, but the din faded with the tenderness of his gestures. His finger traced the veins in your chest. They led him to your breasts, hidden by your dress. Aemond grunted⏤terribly offended by this affront⏤and pulled at the fabric but it held on. 

Claere Linstar's work was reknown throughout Flea Bottom. You could not find a better weaver⏤today, you were thankful for the two silver stags you had spent. The garment would become the guarantor of your dignity, the bulwark against your desire. 

When you realised that your Prince was not going to answer your question, you took a step back. His hand fell limply between the two of you as a brief look of pain clouded his face. 

“Aemond?”

He straightened up and held out his hand to you. 

“Follow me.”

The labyrinthine corridors made your head spin. You lost count of the turns you took, the staircases you climbed and the alcoves you passed. The beauty of the mouldings and frescoes drew admiring sighs from you several times, but Aemond did not care. He walked past them without giving them a second glance. He's used to all this, you reminded yourself. People of his rank bathed in this luxury and grandeur since birth.  

On the way, maids dressed in red and white stopped at your sight. Their gaze fell on your face, on your body, on your hand locked in the Prince's... Your cheeks heated and you tried to pull away, but Aemond tightened his grip. Out of habit, his thumb caressed your skin. This time, his touch only made you tense. You bowed your head, ashamed. 

They knew. 

The thought stayed with you. 

You only lifted your head when Aemond stopped in front of an ornate door. The mouldings curved into flowers and birds⏤an ode to spring and renewal. Your eyes swept the decor, stopped on a bush of camellias and, finally, met the Prince's satisfied gaze. 

“We've arrived," he announced. 

Aemond opened the door with a confident gesture. Inside, an immense room stretched out and seemed to never end. Wealth oozed out of every corner, from the four-poster bed to the dressing table adorned with sapphires. On the wall, frescoes of flowers had been painted to match the powder pink drapes⏤an explosion of colour that turned drab the corridors you had been raving about just a few minutes before. 

“Is it to your taste?”

You turned back to Aemond. Although his chin was up and his back was straight⏤proud as ever⏤red bloomed on his cheeks. Your lover seemed embarrassed, a far cry from his usual composure. Almost timidly, his hand sought yours. He couldn't help it, you realised. His fingers always found yours⏤skin against skin to find what he had been deprived of all his childhood. 

“I don't know anyone who wouldn't like it," you replied.

“Hmm. Good.”

He pulled you to him. His hands went down to your buttocks and pressed you against his chest. Your pelvises collided. Suddenly, the room made sense. You let yourself drown in these familiar gestures. Your hand caressed his muscular shoulders, moved up to his jaw and brushed against his lips. Aemond kissed the pad of your thumb before replacing it with your lips. Soon, the wet sound of saliva echoed through the room. The sweet melody ignited a fire in your lower abdomen and moved down between your thighs. 

Your hand resumed tracing arabesques on your lover's smooth skin. It stopped at the buttons on his doublet and hastily undid them before wandering lower and lower…

Aemond stopped you before you could take him in your hand. His hand grabbed yours. He kissed your palm and pressed it against his cheek. 

“These will be your quarters.”

The fire went out, leaving you frozen with shock. Your heart skipped a beat. 

“What do you mean?" you asked breathlessly.

“Now that I am Regent, we will not have to hide any more.” 

A new glare lit up his eye. Purple turned black and made you shiver. Flames seemed to dance in his pupil, crushing all remains of the second son he had once been. That Aemond was dead. In his place was a Regent who thought himself above laws and men.  

“It's not proper, Aemond," you tried to protest. “If it gets out that I'm here... If the Dowager Queen or the Hand–”

“They have no say in the matter. My word is law now.”

 “If you want me here… Perhaps I could serve the Crown, join the kitchens. Anything but that, Aemond," you said, gesturing to those quarters, far too luxurious for someone of your breeding. 

“You do not belong in the fucking kitchens," he scoffed. “No. You will be by my side, as my equal.”

“You're engaged," you retorted. “The Lady Baratheon won't take kindly to my presence here. You nobles can make Small Folk disappear in a blink of an eye and no one would notice or care.”

Alira Merchin's story was remembered as a cautionary tale for young girls naive enough to think love could conquer blood. The fable was classic⏤hundreds of similar romances filled libraries, and perhaps it was these very ones that had encouraged the girl to seduce the heir of House Harte. The man fell in love and made the pretty merchant his lover. 

This did not please his wife, the daughter of Lord Chelsted. 

She got rid of the merchant with disconcerting ease. The poor girl was found trampled by horses in white and green bards. That day, Lord Harte lost his true love and spent the rest of his life suffering the consequences of his betrayal. 

Your heart dropped. What would happen to you if you tickled the stag? Ours if the Fury. Their motto was an ode to their rage, to their thirst for violence. If Floris Baratheon found out that Prince Aemond was bedding you... and in the Keep nonetheless…

The storm would come for you and you would perish in its eye. 

“It's not a good idea, Aemond," you finally said. 

“Do not fret, my love. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here to protect you.”

The Prince pulled you into bed. 

Your protests died on your lips, muffled by moans and the exquisite feel of his skin against yours. 

Your fingers tightened around your thighs. The soap made your skin slippery but did nothing to wash away the shame that had been clinging to it for days. It colonised your flesh and left it tainted, eating away at your muscles and weighing down your heart. 

On the first day, after a passionate night, maids had arrived to prepare you, but you refused their care. You were no Lady. You had bathed alone all your life and would continue to do so. More than anything, you wanted to escape their watchful eyes, which would no doubt have noticed the hickeys on your chest and thighs. 

You did not know how rumours got around in the Keep, but you were sure that they first burgeoned on the maids’ lips. They blossomed as quickly as in Flea Bottom⏤the inquisitive nature of man was innate⏤, but it would not be Old Gerald getting wind of it. No. The stakes were much higher in these parts, and the consequences even more dire. 

The door to your quarters stood in the way of the horror surely awaiting you, but for how much longer? 

Your hands massaged your calf, hoping to rediscover a cherished routine. You longed for the feel of dough beneath your fingers. What would become of your shop? Would you have to sell it? Maybe someone had already moved in⏤abandoned houses never stayed so for long in Flea Bottom, the cradle of the poor and the homeless. 

You could not cherish the roof above your head, yet, you supposed you had to learn to appreciate it. Aemond did not seem eager to let you go.  

Aemond. 

Every day, the sun tore him away from you. His hours were devoted to the Small Council and military strategies, only half of which you understood when he explained them to you. Your Prince needed to talk, to get rid of the weight that was arching his back. You became the shoulder on which he rested, the ear into which he poured his doubts, the flesh in which he forgot himself. 

“I wish to be with you every hour of the day, to attach myself to your side, but the Gods will only grant me this pleasure when I win this war. I am fighting for you⏤for us,” he had told you. 

The moon brought him back into your arms. Every night, without exception, he would cross the threshold of the door and wrap you in a reassuring embrace. His arms would block out your gloomy thoughts and chase away shame and regret⏤all seemed worth it if it kept him close to you. The stars looked down on your love. When the bells rang the hour of the owl, you indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, whispered sweet nothings or simply enjoyed the peaceful silence that the other's presence guaranteed. Sometimes, Aemond, lying on the bed with your head on his stomach, would read you stories with his hand buried in your hair. 

And then, the hour of the Nightingale would sound, its tranquillity burning away in the first rays of sunlight. The enchanted interlude would close and you would spend the day dreaming of a life where sun and duty did not separate you. 

Shame would reappear, its weight with it, and fear⏤tangible and vibrant⏤would turn your stomach. 

The spectre of Floris Baratheon never left you. It haunted you. In the frescoes of camellias on the wall. In the bouquets of flowers dotting your quarters. In the venison served for dinner. The tales of her beauty reached you and left you bitter, but what they said about her quiet authority made your blood run cold. 

She would come for you. 

The Lady Baratheon occupied all your thoughts, so much so that you forgot about another much more dangerous threat. 

One day, Alicent Hightower stalked into your room. 

You dropped your embroidery in your lap and hastily sat up. The needle fell to the floor with a disturbing chime. The bell was tolling⏤this farce had gone on far too long and it would now end. 

The Dowager Queen dropped a small leather bag on the table. Its contents clinked and masked your gasping breath for a second. Your heart was pounding against your temples. Soon, the air would run out. Already your throat was closing up and you were struggling to swallow. 

“What is it?" you asked weakly. 

“Five thousand gold dragons. Enough to buy you a new life, far from the Keep, far from Westeros.”

Away from my son, she meant. 

“I won't leave Aemond.”

He needs me, you thought. 

“The Prince Regent does not need you," the Queen scoffed as if she could heard your mind. “He is engaged. Or have you forgotten that? Whoring yourself in the way you do… It would appear so. Have you thought about the repercussions of your actions when people find out about you? The risks it means for Aemond? Your very presence here jeopardises this entire war.”

“I have tried to–”

“He does not love you, you fool. He just wants a cunt to fuck without having to spend a single penny.”

You recoiled, surprised to hear the famously pious queen speak so vulgarly. 

War transformed souls. It made them ugly. Alicent Hightower’s wide eyes and pursed lips twisted her face into a terrifying expression. 

She sighed and, for a moment, her features became those of a compassionate woman. 

“I don't know what… hold my son has over you," she continued in a calmer voice, “but you seem smart enough to understand this will end badly. You must leave. Take the gold and let us be done with this farce.”

The door slammed against the wall before you could even consider the proposal. 

Aemond reached your side with a confident stride. 

“What's going on here? Mother?”

When the latter did not answer, he looked to you for answers. You lowered your head, unable to bear the look of concern in his purple eye any longer. 

It fell lower, onto the table and the leather purse.  

“What is the meaning of this?” he raised his voice. 

Silence stretched before Alicent Hightower relented. 

“You cannot… support a lowborn in such manners, Aemond. The girl must go.”

The Prince ignored his mother and took you in his arms. His nose nestled under your ear as his hands buried themselves in your hair. He guided your head into his neck and whispered comforting words, which you could not hear. You did not care. His familiar scent embraced you and brought tears to the corners of your eyes. They wet your cheeks and his collar. 

You should never have come here. 

“Out.”

His mother protested. 

“Imagine the shame for your future wife, the Lady Baratheon! For her house! If we lose Storm's End because of... because of this w–” 

“Hold your tongue and leave.”

“Aemond, if you do this, we are lost!”

“Get out!”

Footsteps retreated. A door slammed. Aemond sighed. His hand drew abstract symbols on the back of your head for a moment before encouraging you to look at him. 

“Oh, my love," he said, seeing your misty eyes. “All is well now. She will not hurt you any more.”

The danger you had put yourself in was greater than you had thought. Fear dried your mouth and exhausted your words. You stammered a few excuses before taking a deep breath. Your Prince's fingers did not weaken. They continued to comfort you and, at last, gave you the courage you needed to finally speak. 

“Maybe I should return to Flea Bottom. I–” 

“No," Aemond’s voice cracked. 

His hands framed your face and pulled you closer until your noses were touching. 

“You are not leaving me.”

His lips were harsh, covering every inch of your skin. He kissed the bridge of your nose, your warm cheekbones, your wet eyelids. Tears ran aground in the cracks of his lips and dried up under his exquisite tenderness. No beauty spot, no eyelash, was spared. His lips erased his mother's words and the doubts in your heart. 

“You belong here, with me. I do not care for blood or war. I only wish for your love.”

Aemond filled the space between your mouths. His hands reached down and grasped your breast. He feasted on your lips and the taste of them like a hungry man. Tingles caressed your spine and tickled your lower abdomen. You rolled your hips, searching for his, but your lover pulled away.

You didn't want him to stop. 

The Prince shushed your complaints and pushed you to the bed. Your back bounced on the goose feather mattress. Eager to feel his skin against yours, you sat up and tried to pull him to you, but Aemond took a step back. A petty smile stretched his lips as he heard you whimper. He ignored you and stood silent, admiring you. His eyes, now black, gazed down at your body, contemplating its shape and softness.

“Aemond, please…”

Your lover grabbed an ankle and kissed it. You moaned. He moved up your calf, caressing your knee and digging his fingers into your thighs before spreading them apart. His teeth nipped at the flesh, which his tongue immediately soothed. Your breathing quickened and breathy moans fell from your swollen lips, intoxicated by his touch. He skipped over your dripping cunt, his hands grazing your hips and sides.  

Suddenly, Aemond stopped touching you, placed a farewell kiss on your belly and sat up on his elbows. 

“I will take care of everything, my love. You will never have to fear for your life. It is mine to cherish, mine to love, mine to protect," he said before reaching up to capture your lips with his. “Mine.”

“I love you," you sighed. 

Aemond smiled, as he did every time the words fell from your lips. One could not get used to the sweetness of love. It forever stirred the heart and soothed the soul. Your Prince placed a chaste kiss on your lips before moving down and disappearing between your thighs. 

His words vanished in desire and pleasure. You forgot them the next day, when the hour of the Nightingale struck.  

You should have known that Aemond Targaryen would keep his promise.

Three days later, the Lady Baratheon was found dead in the Kingswood, impaled on a stag's antlers. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

i saw your prompt list and was hoping for number 6 with Aegon <3

‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’

Request: Aegon married Rhaenyra's daughter. When the king dies, Alicent lock her in the dungeons so she won't go to her mother and ruin the coronation. Aegon ask where his wife is and get you out himself. Tells the guard that his wife is not to be made prisoner

—

You always knew Alicent had madness running through her blood, but you never thought she would have you taken to the dungeons and imprisoned. 

After dressing in your day dress, you were walking down the corridors, looking for Halaena when you heard voices coming from the small council chamber talking about sending men to Dragonstone to kill your mother and Daemon. Before you could get to your bed chamber and write her a message to send by crow, one of the guards saw you and brought you to the dungeons. 

You tried to scream for help, but the sounds were killed by the stone walls. So you sank to the floor and curled on yourself, praying to the gods that someone would come get you out. Someone must have noticed your absence. 

At his return from the dragonpit, Aegon walked into your chambers and called to you. He assumed you were with his sister, so he went to Halaena’s chambers, but she told him she had not seen you. On his way back from his sister’s chambers, Aegon heard the servants whispering about ‘the blacks’ daughter’ and stopped them. 

With fury in his eyes, the prince stormed down to the dungeons. He didn’t have his sword on him — only Aemond wore it on the daily —, but he had his dagger. Whoever would try to oppose freeing you will end their day bleeding out. Aegon was not afraid of a fight. 

His footsteps echoed off the stone walls and the torches flickered as he passed. As he reached the entrance to the dungeons, Aegon clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tight with determination. Without surprise, two guards were stationed at the entrance. They moved to block the way when the prince approached. 

‘’We cannot let you go past, my prince. Orders of the Queen,’’ one of them said.

‘’The King’s dead, which no longer makes her Queen. And as the rightful heir to the throne, it is my command you obey.’’ Aegon tried to go past them, but the other guard pulled out his sword. ‘’I could have you removed from the kingsguard for pointing your sword at your future King.’’ His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger as he stared the defiant guards.

The threat hung heavy in the air, a silent warning of the consequences should they continue to defy him. After a tense moment, the guard who had brandished his sword reluctantly stepped aside.

‘’My wife is not to be made a prisoner,’’ Aegon declared, his voice ringing with authority, holding his dagger at the guard’s throat. 

The guard gulped. ‘’Yes, my Prince.’’ 

Aegon walked past them, wondering how his own mother could do this. A part of him was not surprised, though. Her determination often goes too far. 

Finally, he reached the row of cells. All were empty, except one. His heart was pounding in his chest as he saw you sitting with your knees pulled to your chest on the cold stone floor. He said your name and you looked up, tears welling up in your eyes as you stood and reached out to him. You knew he would come for you. 

‘’Aegon!’’ Your voice held relief. 

He grabbed your hand through the bars, cold from being down here, holding it. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ Aegon reached out to caress your tear-streaked face, his touch a tender reassurance in the midst of chaos. 

Using the keys he stole from the guards, Aegon unlocked the door, a harsh creaking sound echoing in the silence of the dungeon when it opened. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. 

‘’Are you alright?’’ he asked, stepping back to look at you. 

You nodded. You were cold, and very thirsty, but not hurt. ‘’I heard your mother and her father speaking to the Lord Commander. They sent men to murder my mother,’’ you said, a tear slipping down your face. ‘’I was sent here so I wouldn’t write to her and risk ruining your coronation. I need to get to the dragonpit. I have to go to Dragonstone and save my mother.’’ 

—

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[multific]

Return

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond arrives back from the battle.

Season 2 SPOILERS - This is your only warning!

As he dismounted Vhagar, Aemond felt victorious. 

With a smirk on his face he watched as you rushed over to him and hugged him.

"I heard of Aegon. I was scared the same happened to you."

"I'm alright my love." Aemond reassured you as you let out a long sigh, happy to have him back safe. 

He then walked with you to have something to eat, while eating he told you the story of the battle.

"So, she is dead." you looked at the food in front of you as you started to laugh. "And you-" you covered your lips as you chuckled. 

You looked at Aemond who was giving you a look.

"Our King is in grave danger, and you are laughing?"

You continued to laugh in silence while you shook your head.

"You are so funny Aemond. I mean you... want the throne, so you do this?" you whispered the last part, Aemond wasn't amused by your words. But when you continued to laugh, his frown did ease.

"I bet you, as you did it, you had that face!"

"Care to explain what face, my Lovely Wife?"

"Oh, that." as you tried your best to imitate his usual look, lips in a small pout as you looked into the distance. "When everything is going to your plan. The face I refuse to take seriously." 

"I do not look like that." was your husband's simple reply.

"Oh, but you do, you pose as if you are sitting for a painting." you said as you lifted your hand and posed. 

When a small smile crept onto his lips, you knew you won.

"Careful what you say, that face might be the face of your King."

"Oh? Already crowning yourself?" you smiled and so did he. "I would love to see the faces you make on the throne." he let out a sigh.

"I promised to make you Queen." he whispered.

"You made me Your Queen, to me that is more than enough."

"Not to me." he said with such a serious expression you almost stopped smiling. He kept staring into your eyes as you spoke.

"Just... be careful. You burnt Aegon, we can only hope he will not see it as an attack but rather as an accident. You plot your war, My Lovely Husband, I will forever follow you."

He nodded once with a small smile.

"Even in death?"

"Especially in death. I will have to find you again, the thrill makes it more fun. Our reunion will be magnificent."

"Your fascination with death often concerns me, Wife."

"I am both fascinated with life and death. The great mysteries, much like you, Dear Husband. A mystery of your own right."

"Good to know you didn't marry me for my dragon."

"Oh, I did, do not make a mistake it is just that it's not the dragon you think of." you smirked and laughed as you saw it in his eyes, he completely understood your words.

"Where's Aegon?"

"In his bed, probably with the Queen."

"Of course, the Witch would be with him." you sighed. You did like Aegon's wife, the great Witch Queen. She knew things many people did not, she toyed with forces many didn't dare to even utter. But she was dangerous, so you avoided her instead.

"She is his wife, after all, you would be my side, would you not?"

"Naturally. I would help you back to health."

"Does she scare you?"

"Her pets do. Ghosts that follow her. Darkness. She scares me." you admitted. But you knew her agreement with Aegon.

You knew her agreement with House Targaryen. 

She told you she will save Aemond when the time comes. That is all you can hope for.

You really didn't like having to place your husband's life in her hands but it could be worse you suppose.

Later that day, you were out in the garden when you noticed Aemond coming your way.

You offered him a smile.

"I will be King, at least until Aegon heals. His Witch told me so." he sounded so happy.

"You look happier than at our wedding."

"I can assure you, it is not the same happiness." you laughed slightly as he hugged you.

"Everything will be alright." he said with a promise in his voice. "I love you, My Queen."

"And I love you, My King." you whispered the last part, making sure no one would hear it before you kissed your husband.

You knew everything would fall into place. And you will be victorious. 

A/N: This can be read as a standalone or if you want it to make more sense about Aegon and his Witch Wife, I have a small series, The Unbreakable Vow. :)

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[helluvapoison]

For All to See

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader x Lilith

Lilith has Lucifer and Lucifer has Lilith. Their eyes are well trained for snakes in the garden, they’re able to watch each other’s backs with ease. Everyone wants to know, just who the fuck are you to the King and Queen of Hell?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Technically speaking, they don’t need you

• Your heart lurches at the constant reminders

• Everywhere you look there’s capable hands doing anything you could do, and doing it better

• The guards around the Morningstar estate are appreciated and skilled but merely for show, their wise (albeit chaotic) council of Princes have never led them astray and they have more willing servants than they know what to do with

• It’d be impossible to forget how agonizingly obvious it is that you’re not needed beside them. Occasionally it was a paralyzing thought. You were nothing without them but they could continue on just fine without you

• And Lilith, ethereal, graceful, benevolent Lilith, noticed this. Her own heart ached for you, she loved you!

• You tenderly brushed her hair when she hadn’t even rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Combined with her husband’s efforts, you would make her feel beautiful when her mind told her the opposite. You would be on your feet beside her all day, shooting little thumbs ups that restored her energy when she was nearly depleted. Your unfailing attendance from her concerts to afternoon tea brought a comforting sense of normalcy to the disorder of the realm she ruled

• Lucifer, who loved you no less than she, was furious at himself for not realizing on his own

• You were his alarm clock, gently coaxing him out of bed and making the day seem more inviting than it did when he opened his eyes. You snuck into his room when everyone else (Lilith aside) was banished, claiming only to drop off a tray of snacks but would sit with him for hours on end just so that he wouldn’t be alone. When the world was too big, his own thoughts too heavy, it was you that made him feel bigger and stronger

• And you thought of yourself as inconsequential!?

• Blasphomy.

• They would not let this stand another fucking second

• They covered all their bases, working from the inside out

• You were instructed to join them for a portrait. Lucifer picked your outfit while Lilith did your hair then they sandwiched you between them. It took several hours and you ached from standing still for so long but the painting looked absolutely marvelous. Lilith ordered it to be hung in the lobby

• “Not the bedroom?” You asked quietly, tilting your head up at her

• “As much as I’d love to, no. This needs to be seen by our guests! Besides, I have your darling face right there every morning.” She replied sweetly and kissed your cheek on her way out

• You were utterly floored when you saw a detailed third chair, right to Lucifer’s, in the throne room. Meetings were only held here once a month for the public to bring their qualms to the royals but they took a full day to bring to conclusion. Lucifer’s smile widened at your reaction

• “Do you like it?” He asked knowingly, “It’s for you.”

• “Me? I— yes! Yes, it’s lovely. I just don’t understand, I-I was alright standing.” You blink rapidly, your mind racing to catch up with his words

• “Don’t be silly, dove! These matters are a bore and take eternity. This was long overdue.” Lucifer takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, smiling at you apologetically

• Polygamy wasn’t something to clutch pearls over down here and you were never a dirty secret. Magazines, networks, media just happened to only feature the King and Queen of Hell (Later, Lucifer would always point out the blurry spec that was you behind them or to the side or cut off the page) So when you were yanked between them during their red carpet debut, you stared at the camera flashes like a deer in the headlights. Their grips on either of your hands kept you from floating too high

• While your view on the situation changed drastically, it wasn’t atonement enough for Lilith and Lucifer. They never wanted you to feel immaterial ever again

• “You’re not nothing to us,” Lucifer said, holding your left hand. He hid his face in the crook of your neck where you could feel him smiling against your skin

• “We would never abandon you,” Lilith whispered while slipping a matching golden band around your finger. She had you sitting in her lap, facing away from her. She held your hand up for you to see the new obvious, your next reminder of their devotion for you

• Suffocating on their love for you, you choked back a sob to not ruin the moment. Lilith wrapped her arms around you and Lucifer, bringing you both closer to her heart

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

Quality Father-Son Time

Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen!reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra) x Aemond Targaryen

YAY!!! I get to do ANOTHER drabble based on the works of @maidragoste and the series The Queen and Her Husbands. (thanks so much, hun :))

I had to write this after seeing the season premier and seeing Aegon spend time with little Jaehaerys (before that one scene I won't get into because it made it all the more tragic and upsetting).

*Also go support the original writer of this series.

Summary: Aegon is woken up early in the morning by his son so they can go dragon riding for the day.

Content Warnings: Allusions to Blood and Cheese, and some residual trauma from losing a child/children. Also some brief suggestive content with reader and Aemond (because I couldn't help myself and had a feeling the reader would take this moment to spend time with her first husband while her second husband is busy bonding with his son)

It was early in the morning. The sun hadn't even begin to make its daily ascent into the sky, and most of the Red Keep was still abed, including the king and queen as well as their children.

Well...almost all the children.

There was one little soul up already, dressed and eager to get the day started.

Daeron eagerly scampers into his parents' bedroom. "Kepa! Kepa! Wake up, we have to go!"

You and Aegon were soundly asleep, slowly being woken up by Daeron nudging the bed, trying to get his father up and going. Aemond wasn't there as he was currently in Oldtown resolving matters over there, though he was due to return sometime today.

"Kepa. Kepa!" Daeron starts whining.

"Your son is awake, husband," you mutter in your sleepy state. Aegon just groans a bit and turns over putting an arm around you, "before sunrise he is YOUR son," he mutters with the intent of going back to sleep.

"Kepa! KEPA!" Daeron starts pulling on the blankets but ended up falling backwards in his zeal. Finally having enough, Daeron pounced on his father, "Kepa, you promised!" Aegon was effectively roused from sleep, opening his eyes to see the stern look on his son's face.

Aegon knew already what the boy was talking about, "Alright, Daeron, alright. I'm up, I'm up," he sleepily assures turning on his back and rubbing his eyes. "Yeah!" Daeron exclaims with glee, climbing off the bed.

Right on cue, a couple nursemaids walked in through the open door. "Prince Daeron," the older maid exclaims, before hastily bowing, realizing the king was already up "oh forgive us, your Grace," she hastily apologizes, "the prince just ran off without notice we didn't-" "It's quite alright," Aegon assures, stretching a bit, "the young prince wished to start the day. Up before the sun it seems." "Yes, your Grace."

"Daeron, you go and break your fast. I'll join you in a moment," Aegon says, patting Daeron on the head before the boy scampered off out the room. "See to it that he actually does get some food in his belly," Aegon orders the maids. "Of course, your Grace," the maids quickly bow and go follow Daeron to the kitchens.

"What exactly did you promise Daeron that he must ruin our peaceful morning so early?" you ask, eyes still closed as Aegon leaves the bed to gather his clothes for the day. "I told him I would take him flying on Sunfyre," he tells you as he starts to dress, "We've had a busy week, and haven't had the time. I told Daeron if he was patient and on his best behavior I would take him flying. He made good on his promise. Now I must make good on mine."

"The reward of dragon flying was surely a great motivator," you say, turning a bit in the bed, "I wonder why Daeron was extra considerate this week."

Aegon chuckled at that statement, having finished putting on the rest of his riding ensemble. "Don't forget we have afternoon tea later today," you tell him, "Jaehaera has spent all week organizing this little event, and it would break her heart if her father was absent for it." "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Aegon assures, "We'll be back before then," he leans into the bed and pressed a kiss on your temple, "give my regards to Aemond should he return before Daeron and I do."

"Of course," you nod, slowing going back to sleep for a couple more hours before you start your own day.

After a quick light meal to break their fast, Aegon and Daeron walked to the wheelhouse which had been set up surprisingly fast for the king and his son. "Hurry, Kepa, hurry!" Daeron insists as he tries to jump in, only to tumble back from the steps. Lucky for him, Aegon was quick to catch his son, "whoa, slow down, boy," Aegon light scolds, getting Daeron in, "there's no rush, the dragons won't be going anywhere without us."

"I can't help it, Kepa," Daeron says, "I just really want to go flying, I've been waiting all week." "I know you have," Aegon says with a smile as he lifts Daeron and sets him on his knee as he takes a seat in the wheelhouse, "that's why you've been so good this week. Haven't been up to any mischief, yes?" He boops his son on the nose, making Daeron giggle in response, Aegon giggling back. As happy an occasion this was, Aegon found his mind starting to linger on more melancholy thoughts, though he wouldn't show it for the sake of his child.

It was moments like these that would make Aegon think of similar moments he had with Jaehaerys. How he would hold the boy in a similar position as Daeron whenever they made trips to the dragon pit to go riding on Sunfyre. Aegon tried not to think about those times, as the loss of his past children was still not something he has fully gotten over, and likely never will. Even if he will still get upset about it at times, he'll choose to think about the children he has who are still healthy and alive.

"Can we have Sunfyre do tricks in the air while flying?" Daeron asks, bringing Aegon out of his thoughts, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Daeron," Aegon tells him, "we can get him to breathe fire while flying, that might be better." "Okay, Kepa," Daeron nods.

Before either of them knew it, the wheelhouse had stop. They had made it to the dragon pit.

Daeron was first to jump out, eagerly running towards the pit, with Aegon trailing not far behind. The dragon keepers greet both the king and prince as they walk inside.

Daeron practically sprints towards Sunfyre the moment he catches site of the golden dragon. "Hold on, son," Aegon calls out, placing a hand on Sunfyre's snout the moment the dragon lowers his head towards his rider. Aegon smiles. Though Sunfyre still bore the scars from past battles waged before Daeron was born, the dragon was still a beauty to behold.

"Kepa, come on! Let's go flying." "Alright, alright," Aegon concedes, helping his son up onto the saddle before mounting the beast himself. Once Sunfyre was out of the dragon pit, Aegon gave the command and they were soon flying.

Daeron had a wide grin on his face the whole time during the take off. Aegon couldn't help but grin himself, seeing how excited his son was to be doing this with his father.

------meanwhile-------

You had decided to properly wake up and begin your day. Daeron excluded, the rest of your children were probably still sleeping. The maids would wake them soon so as to have them break their fast and start their morning lessons.

You half expected to for food to be set up on the table already for yourself. It was, but to your surprise you heard splashing sounds in the water closet. You frown a bit, having not expected Aegon to return so soon.

You take a peak inside and to your shock and amazement, it was your OTHER husband who had just settled into the copper tub, steam rising from it.

"Aemond!" you exclaim, getting the prince's attention. You run over, kneeling at the side of the tub so as to give your husband a kiss. "I though you weren't to return till later in the day," you tell him, "much later." "We finished early," Aemond admits, "I...I didn't wish to wait to return to see my family again." "I missed you too, Aemond," you give him another kiss, "We all missed you." "If that is so, where is my brother?"

"He took Daeron dragon riding today," was your answer, "I thought you would've run into the two of them while you were riding back on Vhagar." "Hmm, it appears we missed each other," Aemond says, slight smirk on his face, "although, that would give the two of us time to each other." "...I suppose so," you say with a smirk of your own, "the children will be waking soon, though, and I know our sons will be eager especially to see their father back in the Holdfast. Not to mention we have Jaehaera's afternoon tea later in the day." "Well then," Aemond turns your way, a wicked look in his eye, "we best make this a quick one, wouldn't you say, dear wife?"

----------meanwhile-------------------

"Watch me Kepa!" Daeron gleefully says, taking both his hands off the saddle and stretching his arms to sides to feel the wind rush as Sunfyre flew a little higher.

Aegon instinctively holds onto his son, fear lingering in the back of his mind that Daeron could fall, even though the boy was well secured to the saddle.

Nothing was going to happen, Aegon keeps mentally saying to himself. Nothing is going to happen. Daeron is not Jaehaerys, nor is he Maelor or Daenera. They may be gone but his son was still alive in the present. And Seven willing, it was going to stay that way even after Aegon and his wife and brother have long passed from this world.

Aegon started thinking back to when he and his wife started taking Daeron to Small Council meetings as a baby shortly after the death of his twin, how you and him were scared that something terrible was going to happen to your child if you took your eyes off him for even a second. Those were admittedly trying times, more so for Aegon, and even though you and your husband had managed to heal from the loss, the fear that something like that could happen again still lingered in the back of the king's mind every now and then.

It got a little easier as time went on. NEVER easy, but a little more bearable.

Seeing how high they were in the sky in the present, Aegon took this time to bond some more with his son, taking this time to say the things he never got to say with Jaehaerys, "see all that before you, Daeron?" he asks, to which Daeron nods in response.

"All this: King's Landing, the Crownlands, the Riverlands, Stormlands, the Reach, the North...the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. One day it will all be yours to rule the day you sit the Iron Throne." "When will that happen, Kepa?" Daeron asks, looking at his father with curiosity.

Aegon took some time to put his words together before he made his answer, "look to the sun," he nods in the direction the sun was currently in, "a king's time as ruler is like the sun. It rises, and then it falls. One day, Daeron, the sun will set on my time. BUT it will rise again, with YOU as the new king."

"And all this will be mine?" Aegon nods in response, "it will. But it will be some time before then. You still have much to learn. But, we shall not worry over such things today."

The two continue their flight. Aegon looks to the sun to see it was almost high noon. They would need to land soon so as to make it back to the Red Keep and prepare themselves in time for Jaehaera's tea party.

Aegon directs Sunfyre back to the Dragon pit. Daeron was a little sullen having to end their flight time so soon, but Aegon picks Daeron up and carried the boy back to the wheelhouse, assuring him there will be loads of times to go flying again. And, when Daeron is a little older, he would have ample opportunities to fly his own dragon without his father's supervision.

By the time Aegon and Daeron returned to the Red Keep and bathed and dressed in new clothes, the afternoon tea had already been set up in the gardens. Jaehaera was leading the social event. Among her guests were her cousins and siblings as well as her stepmother, her grandmother, and her uncle Aemond as well as your little brother Aegon the Younger.

Egg, it should be noted, had a look of admiration as Jaehaera directed the servants to pour the tea and serve the finger foods.

Jaehaera had the biggest smile on her own face when she saw her father Aegon and Daeron join them at the table. "Perfect timing, husband," you say with approval as the tea was served, "I trust the two of you had a good outing."

"It was good," Aegon assures, placing Daeron in his chair, patting him on the head before greeting the rest of the children, giving Jaehaera a kiss on the head, and welcoming his brother back after his trip from Oldtown.

Taking a seat, Aegon gazed at the whole of his family as they sipped their tea and exchanged pleasantries with one another.

This was his family, he thinks to himself, small smile on his face. They were here, alive, happy, and healthy. Seven willing, it will stay that way, even as their family continues to grow. Seven willing, there will be more happy times like this ahead in the near future, more enough to eclipse the sad times of the past.

[lxkeee]

Hi, could I request a Lucifer morningstar x darkness demon overlord reader? She lurks in the shadows like a boogeyman, she acts like morticia adams from the adams family, how would he meet or act around the gothic queen👁👁✨

LUCIFER X OVERLORD! FEM! READER

Part two

Lucifer was just wandering around hell, unknowingly entering a territory of an overlord.

He doesn't know okay? It's just a forest of dead wilted trees with ominous aura.

His first instinct is to investigate.

This is his first time coming here, he only discovered this area after flying by to return to the palace.

Lucifer was walking around the dense forest, with his guard up.

The forest was quiet. A little too quiet.

He isn't afraid, unfortunately. He knows he can kill any demon who would try to mess with him.

Crack. A twig snapped

His head whipped to the direction of the noise, “Who goes there? Show yourself!” he threatens, wings in full display.

Shadows moving around him and finally stopping in front of him, morphing into a figure.

Lucifer expected a lot of things, but this.

A very tall and gorgeous woman, large deer antlers on her head. Sultry eyes and a smirk on her face.

Oh fuck, she's beautiful. Dangerous. He can sense the power she has.

“Good evening your highness, I didn't expect to see you here wandering around my home.” the woman says with a chuckle, making the man become a little flustered.

“Your home...?” he asked hesitantly and the woman nodded.

“Yes, this is my home or rather my territory. My home is somewhere around here. I just sensed a presence around these grounds and decided to check. I didn't expect to see the king of hell to be here.”

“M-my apologies, my lady. I simply didn't know.” he stammers a bit. Ah, calm yourself Lucifer. You're more powerful so you shouldn't be intimidated, he says to himself internally.

“It is alright, if you don't mind. Do you want to join me for a cup of tea? I just so happen to have finished brewing some.”

Lucifer is cautious around sinners, especially her. He doesn't know why his heart is palpitating this much. The best reason he got is fear loud incorrect buzzer noise

“I don't want to intrud—”

“Nonsense! You're not intruding.”

“But—”

“Do not fret, I am not going to hurt you. I should be the scared one as you are much more powerful than me. I am sure you can obliterate my existence with a flick of your finger.” the woman laughs softly, a kind of laugh that reminds him of the books he's read. The kind of laugh that draws you in.

“How about this, how about we get acquainted with each other? So that you'll be more comfortable?”

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, “Why are you so insistent?”

“Well, I just love making friends and you my dear seem to be an interesting character that I don't mind befriending.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes but eventually nodded, “Fine, My name is Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Wonderful, then... It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Lucifer, my name is [y/n]” She says before gently holding his hand and placing a small kiss on his knuckles.

With a smirk on her face as her eyes looked at him as she did so.

Lucifer's cheeks reddened, quickly snatching his hand away from the demoness.

“So, about that tea?”

Lucifer is beginning to see a pattern.

A type even.

It's been a few months since he's met the deer demoness.

Surprisingly he managed to get along with her, despite her... Rather questionable actions.

He often visits her mansion at the middle of the forest where he met her or the other way around.

She often surprises him by popping out of the shadows with her presence concealed.

She's playful, mysterious, dangerous, beautiful.

And tall.

He likes his women tall okay?

And he likes them a little deranged.

Anyways.

She keeps teasing him.

Just like the other day, he came to visit at the wrong time and she forced him to help her get dressed.

It was inappropriate! She only asked him to zip the zipper of her dress.

Poor guy was blushing.

She didn't make fun of his obsession with rubber ducks.

She even made ducks out of shadows and made it swim around his room and of course, he made one too with his powers.

The shadows and gold dust ducks swimming around the room and in the air.

It was... Cute...

Lucifer has gotten to know the woman better too, he has gotten the chance to see many sides of her.

Lucifer isn't stupid, he can tell he's developing feelings for her.

He's afraid, he's afraid of getting hurt again or hurting her.

He has issues he needed to fix first.

Though, he is slightly a flustered mess around the woman.

Can you blame him? She calls him endearing nicknames! She calls him sweetheart and it just makes his heart flutter.

He is cautious around her not because he's afraid of her but because he fears his feelings for her would accidentally be known.

And she just appears out of nowhere!

It took awhile for him to sort his emotions and he thinks he is finally ready to confess.

But first, Lucifer needs to find hints if she feels the same way.

“Thanks for the coffee, [y/n]. It tastes amazing as always.” Lucifer says, admiring the duck shaped cream that is floating on his coffee.

“It is a pleasure, sweetheart. Drink to your heart's content. I know you've been stressed lately.” She says with a gentle voice.

“I have a question.” he started, already planning a discreet way to ask her.

“Hmm? Go ahead.”

“What if let's say... You have a close friend and you've only known him for a couple of months but they fell in love with you and now they're planning to confess to you? Would you date him?”

Don't mind him guys, he's trying his best.

[y/n] tilts her head slightly, confused before giggling.

She's not stupid but she kinda wants to tease him.

“Depending on who this friend is.”

“Just answer.” he deadpans.

“Yes, would you confess though?” she asked as she leans forward to reach him across the table, holding his chin. Lips just a few inches away from each other.

Lucifer.exe has stopped working.

“Y-yes...” he stammers, beginning to feel shy as his cheeks heat up.

“Do you want a kiss?” she asked teasingly.

“Please...?”

“Good boy.” she says before finally pressing her lips against his.

It was the most addicting kiss he ever experienced.

“I like you.”

“I like me too.”

“[y/n]!”

“I am just joking, I like you too.”

[ashwhowrites]

King!Steve Harrington x reader, he asks the reader out because of a bet. Happy ending!!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Drunk bet

Steve had a reputation in Hawkins High, and he loved it. He loved the attention from the girls and the respect from the jocks. He was cocky and smug whenever eyes watched him as he walked. He was the King and there was a line of girls wanting to be the Queen.

He could get anyone he wanted, and he had many choices. He liked the way girls chased him and all he had to do was send a smile their way.

Steve was drunk at a party, betting money on games of beer pong. If he was sober, he would remember that he was awful at that game. Hundreds of bills slapped down on the table as he missed another cup.

"Nice playing with you, Harrington" Billy smirked as he collected the money.

"Wait! Come on, rematch!" Steve slurred

"It's fun kicking your ass, but you have no more money to bet" Billy laughed

"My dad will kick my ass knowing I lost all of that. What do you want to bet on? I'll do anything to win that back," Steve said

Billy gave it a thought, he had King Steve in the palm of his hand. "Alright, Steve. I'll give you everything back if you ask out Y/N and date her for three months. Hundred for each month. We have a deal?"

"No way! If I go out with her, my reputation goes straight into the mud" Steve fought.

The thing was, Y/N was a very pretty girl. But she was nowhere near the popular crowd. And dating within the popular crowd was acceptable, dating outside of the circle was immediate destruction. He'd lose his King title.

He didn't know that Billy knew all of that. Billy wanted to be the king of Hawkins. He could take Steve down in every aspect. Steve felt stuck because he knew his father would be pissed about the money. Maybe Steve could complete the bet without anyone knowing he was seeing her.

Billy stood there with a smirk when Steve sighed and shook his hand.

~~~

Monday rolled around and Steve had to put his plan into motion. He didn't know too much about Y/N but he knew they shared a few classes together. All he had to do was get her alone, turn on his charm, and ask her out.

He waited in the hallway until it died out, slipping next to her locker when she wasn't looking.

"Hey,"

She jumped as she heard his voice, turning to see him standing there with a smile on his face. She was skeptical but stayed polite.

"Hey Steve, what's up?" She asked, closing her locker and then leaning against it.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out tonight? You can come to my place and I can cook us something"

Y/N was swooning from Steve's smile and the smell of his cologne right under her nose. She couldn't believe that Steve was interested in her.

"I would love to," she smiled, maybe all those small waves and hellos meant something to him.

"Perfect. How about you give me your number and we can talk about details after school." He said

"Sure!"

Steve smiled at how excited she was, this was going to be easy. He let her softly grab his hand and write down her number. The pen tickled his skin as she wrote on his skin.

"Call you later," he said as he pushed off the locker, sending her a wink that made her heart race.

~

Y/N arrived at the address Steve said over the phone. She was nervous as she walked up to his house. She knocked on his door and anxiously waited.

"Welcome to my casa!" Steve said as he opened the door and allowed her to walk through. It was a beautiful home, very clean and everything had a shine.

"I hope you like pizza, I've got a great recipe," he said as he trailed off to the kitchen. Y/N followed but was still in awe of the house.

"Pizza sounds great," Y/N said, Steve pulled out a chair at the counter and motioned her to sit. She sat and took in his cute apron and the towel hanging over his shoulder.

"Do you like to cook?" She asked, her eyes following him as he checked on the oven

"I love it" he replied, "parents are barely home and I got tired of take out and frozen meals." He shrugged

Y/N couldn't help but frown. She wondered if he ever got lonely, but he was popular so maybe not.

"Can I help with anything?" She asked, standing up and walking over to him. Steve smiled at her, he could see the excitement sparkling in her eyes. He already has her wrapped around his finger.

~

A month flew by and Steve believed he had this bet in the bag. Since he was always home alone, he'd ask her to come over. She didn't question why they never went anywhere and that made it easy.

He didn't have much interest in her, but he did like her company. She was funny and was fun. There was never a dull moment with her and Steve didn't realize how much fun he needed in his life.

A few weeks into the first month he kissed her.

It was soft and slow. She didn't know where to put her hands but once she got more comfortable she touched him. He kissed her a few times, letting her grow more comfortable with him and adding anything she wanted to the kiss.

~

Two months in he asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes without a second thought, just like he thought.

He started taking her out on dates, but only in private areas. Private waterfalls for picnics and driving into another town. She saw it as all adventures. She loved to explore and her heart raced by how much Steve seemed to want to explore with her.

~

Three months in Steve felt it.

He felt a little spark when he kissed her. When she held his hand as they jumped into the cold water below, he felt warm everywhere. The sound of her laughter as they plunged into the water made him smile.

He started loving the long drives. Singing with her and dancing at red lights. He started to feel happy when he saw the excitement in her eyes when she took in something new.

How he wished he had a camera to take a picture every time she smiled at him.

They had a few drinks one night, cuddled on his living room floor as the fire roared. Lately, the bet has been the last thing on his mind and it certainly was right now. The way her skin glowed from the fire. Her shoulder was exposed from her shirt, and without thinking he leaned down and kissed the skin.

He felt something burn inside him when she moaned. Then it became the only thing on his mind, making her moan and moan again.

They had sex on the floor in front of the fire, the beer bottles scattered on the floor. His forehead was against hers as he pushed himself in and out of her.

~

Steve knew he'd have to face Billy now that the three months were up. He didn't want to break up with her, he liked her and he liked her a lot. He knew he fucked up with how they started and he planned for her to never know.

Billy pulled up to his house, honking the horn as he got out.

Steve groaned as he rolled out of bed. Y/N was asleep, so he quickly left the room. He raced out to make Billy stop the honking. Once Billy saw him, he stopped.

He had a big smirk as he took in Steve's appearance.

"My oh my, sex hair and scratches? Someone had a good time," Billy chuckled.

"Look, I'm out of the bet. Keep the money and we're even." Steve said

"Oh, why? Fucked her and now you're in love?" Billy scoffed, "King Harrington settles for the pretty nerd."

"Billy, just stop. You get to keep the money, so let's keep this between us. She doesn't have to know" Steve hissed

"Alright, man. I'll keep this little bet between us, but what's your plan? Gonna have to start taking her out in public at one point, people will see and your reputation is doomed. And also," he said, stepping closer to Steve as he lowered his voice, "she's right behind you."

Steve gulped as he was fast to turn around. She stood there in his shirt from the night before. Her arms crossed as tears ran down her face.

Billy laughed as he got back in his car, but before he sat down he whistled.

"If you need a rebound, I'm here, gorgeous," he winked at her.

They watched as he raced out of Steve's driveway, leaving them alone.

"Y/N," he started but she already was running inside.

"I CAN EXPLAIN!" he shouted as he raced into his house, he was quick to head up to his room. She was yanking off his shirt and throwing on her clothes.

"I don't care anymore. You're just as much of an asshole as I thought." She hissed, angrily putting on her pants. "I should have known better. 'Oh baby, I just want you all to myself and I know this romantic spot at the lake,' you just didn't want anyone to see us together!" She mocked his voice as she headed out of his bedroom.

"I know! I'm so sorry and I fucked up. But please believe me. You heard me tell him to keep it right? You heard me!"

"Yeah, I heard you! But I never heard you admit any feelings for me. Why? Too scared to admit that to Billy? Knowing your reputation is on the line?" She scoffed, sliding on her shoes.

"I do have feelings for you! Yes, it was a bet initially but I fell for you. I really like you and I didn't want us to break up. I want to be with you," he cried, tears falling down his face as he grabbed the front door knob.

"Yeah, well I don't want to be with you." She snapped as she slammed the door behind her.

~~~

Steve gave her time to cool off but when Monday arrived he had his eyes set on her. He followed her around and begged for her to listen to him. People were staring and whispering about them in the halls but Steve didn't care.

Finally, she stopped, turning around as Steve's body smashed into hers.

"Quit following me around, this time I don't want to be seen with you," she declared, ignoring the kicked-puppy look in his eyes. "Take a look around, any girl would jump at the chance to be with you. And you wouldn't have to be ashamed of them, leave me alone and find someone else."

She went to turn around but Steve grabbed her shoulder.

He looked into her eyes and she tried to keep her hard face on.

"I don't want them. I don't want to look elsewhere. I'm looking at the girl I want. I'm sorry for everything and I'm sorry I thought you were someone to be ashamed of. You're not. You are the best person I have ever met and I'm begging for another chance."

She watched as he dropped to his knees and held her hand. She smiled awkwardly as the school stared and gasped.

"People are staring!" she hissed

"Good, because then you will see that I don't care who sees us. Y/N, will you please give me another chance? We don't have to label it right away, we can start with a date and talk through everything. All I ask is you say yes in the moment and we can think about it later."

She sighed, looking down at their hands. In his eyes, he looked sincere and sorry.

"Fine," she sighed, smiling to herself when Steve's face lit up, "But we will be thinking about it later."

"Deal!" he cheered as he stood up. She was caught off guard when he swooped her into a kiss. She ignored the crowd around them as she kissed him back.