Ok So This Is A Tmi And I Will Probably Delete This Later But Safari Fucking Deleted All My Private Tabs

ok so this is a tmi and i will probably delete this later but safari fucking deleted all my private tabs and i lost this hood ass fanfic from a03 it’s like the reader babysits leia and Luke for ani and then she goes on their family trip to the aquarium

TEAM GREENS WILL LOVE THIS FANFIC 💚🐉

I loved this one shot it was super cute HAIL KING AEMOND AND QUEEN Y/n 💪🏻

(tho i am very much team 🖤😉)

Bound. (a.t)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Fem!Reader (minor oc descriptions)

Summary: you didn't realize when you stood beside aemond during the night when he lost his eye would solidify your stance in the war.

Warnings: death, murder, angst, fluff between aemond and reader, betrothals, incestual relationship uncle/niece, little family drama (UNEDITED)

a/n: i wanted to get this out before i watched episode ten later. which will determine whether or not i write a part two to this. so no guarantees as this can be a stand-alone!

word count: 5.5k

all translations of high valyrian come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

It was always a deep regret in your heart that you could do anything to save his eye during the fight. He never held any resentment towards you though as you stood by your place to his side. You could never fight against your siblings, and Aemond knew that. Though he continued to taunt them, you stood quietly next to him not meeting anyone’s eye. 

You could recall that night so vividly. The chaos of everything. The questioning of who was right and who was wrong. Trying to decide whether you made the right choice of standing next to your betrothed in his defense. Your family might hate you now, but you got a family out of it in more ways than one.

FLASHBACK

“Aemond, this is worrying to me,” you expressed your concern as you both made your way toward Vhagar to see if Aemond could claim her.

She was a free dragon as of the death of your Aunt/Stepmother Lady Laena Velaryon, and no one has yet to take claim of her more so bond with her. You knew that your half-sister would be furious at the revelation that Aemond was to be the next rider of Vhagar. In all honesty in your mind, it was her fault thinking no one would want to claim the most powerful/largest dragon in the realm. 

You knew that you were the creation of an affair between your mother Rhaenyra and your biological father Daemon. Everyone knew you were with your hair being as bright as snow and bold violet eyes with your fair complexion. Though you were legitimized by the King himself, so no one dared ever call you a bastard to your face. 

Ser Laenor was also your father who raised you and brought you up. You loved him as a father and knew how hard his sister’s death hurt him. You two would visit them on dragon back with Seasmoke and Silverwing allowing you to get to know your biological father and half-sisters. Daemon had a hard way to show that he cared for someone, but you were his jewel. 

He would teach you more complex High Valyrian and teach you about your ancestors. Always telling you that it was important for you to me in the knowledge of those before you when you were to take the throne. Which made Baela and Rhaena envious of the favoring of their father towards you. 

Though Daemon cared for you as his daughter when you visited him, he did not pay any mind to you outside of it. Always so hot and cold. Never allowing himself to get too attached to anyone. Making you more in favor of your stepfather Laenor. Who taught you how to swim on the shores of Driftmark, unbraided your hair before saying goodnight, taught you the basics of bonding with a dragon, and took you on rides with Seasmoke when you were too little to ride Silverwing. 

“There is nothing to worry about, and I would never let anything happen to you,” Aemond reassured you taking your hand as the two of you got closer to Vhagar.

“Aemond be careful, I will not lose my betrothed over a dragon claim,” you squeezed his hand before letting go allowing him to approach the large she-dragon.

“Dohaeras! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Lykiri! Lykiri!” Aemond shouted to the dragon as Vhagar growled in his presence. (Serve! Serve, Vhagar! Calm down!) “Lykiri.” 

You watched in anticipation, scared for Aemond’s life. To your relief, Vhagar seemed to be accepting Aemond as she allowed him to climb to her back. 

“Soves! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Soves!” he yelled out commands to the dragon. (Fly! Serve, Vhagar! Fly!)

As Vhagar and Aemond took flight, you waited for his return watching the beautiful dragon’s wings spread amongst the sky. It seemed like an eternity before you saw them rearing back to where you awaited. Vhagar landed with a loud grunt letting Aemond climb back down on her wing. 

“I knew you were always meant for amazing things,” you admitted to Aemond as continued to bond with Vhagar. He put his forehead to rest against the dragon’s cheek.

“Come here.”

“Aemond, you must be joking,” you nervously let out, staying in your place.

“Come here, love. She won’t hurt you, I promise,” Aemond said as he reached out his hand to you, beckoning you to come closer. 

“Rytsas, Vhagar,” you greeted the dragon, taking Aemond’s hand, and staying close to his side. (Hello, Vhagar) 

Aemond took your hand in his grasp and laid your palm against Vhagar’s cheek which radiated heat. Vhagar purred at the attention both you and Aemond were giving her. You enjoyed this moment shared between the three of you. You leaned your head against Aemond’s shoulder looking up at him as he relished in the fact he finally had his own dragon. 

“Maybe when we get back home we can take Vhagar and Silverwing on a ride together,” he suggested as you two made your way back inside the High Tide. 

“It’s him,” they gasped at the sight of Aemond and you.

“It’s me,” Aemond mocked.

“Vhagar is my mother's dragon.”

“Your mother's dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now,” Aemond stated in arrogance.  

“She was mine to claim.”

“Then you should've claimed her!” Aemond shouted in thinning patience. You stood behind him keeping your head down as your siblings continued to yell and argue with your betrothed. 

“Y/N, come here,” Jace commanded to you as he saw Aemond shield you from them.

“Jacaerys, you do not command her to do anything unless it is of her free will,” Aemond defended you as your siblings looked at you with disgust for siding with their “enemy.”

The chaos surrounding you came with the overwhelming feeling of guilt of not knowing who to stand by and defend. Causing you to be frozen in your place as they started to fight. You saw punches getting thrown around and how they all ganged up on Aemond.

“Baela, Jacaerys, stop it,” you shouted as you saw them go against Aemond. “Aemond, no!” you continued as you saw Lucerys’ nose bleed profusely from Aemond’s hit.

You were paying so much attention to them that you didn’t see Rhaena coming up to you ready to strike. You only realized when you felt the slap against your cheek.

“How dare you stand next to him instead of your family,” she yelled at you in disappointment. “Father will be so disappointed in you,” she said as if it seemed like you cared so much about your parents’ approval.

Everything seemed to slow down as you heard Aemond yell in pain, you turned in a hurry to try and attend to Aemond. That’s when you saw Lucerys holding a blade and you felt yourself sink down to your knees beside Aemond taking his head on your lap.

“What have you done?!” you shouted at them. “A disgrace upon all of you,” you cursed them cradling Aemond and trying to do your best to comfort him.

Aemond continued to groan in pain as you ripped a portion of your cloak to help stop the bleeding in his eye. The others continued to scream at you and Aemond which you paid no mind to.

“CEASE THIS AT ONCE!” Ser Harrold came rushing in separating your siblings from you and Aemond. 

“GET AWAY!” you screamed as you noticed them quieting down but unmoving. 

“My Prince, my Prince. Let me see,” Ser Harrold approached you two. “Gods be good.”

You stayed by Aemond’s side as the maesters attended to his wounded eye. You held his hand as they stitched it together, feeling him squeeze your hand when the pain got too much for him. You stayed quiet as both families argued against each other. You noticed the look your mother gave you when she saw that you had not taken the side of your siblings. 

Daemon stayed to the side watching the situation play out. Your grandfather continued to demand answers as he shouted amongst the room. 

“I will have the truth of what happened. My sweet granddaughter, tell your grandsire how did this happen?” the King turned to you asking for an explanation of the situation. 

“Due to the death of my Aunt Lady Laena, Vhagar was left unattended and unclaimed by a rider since. Aemond and I went down to see her and to see if Aemond could bond with her which he did. As we made our way back inside the castle, we were stopped by my siblings and cousins, and they argued with Aemond about Vhagar. In my honest opinion, no one truly claims a dragon they just bond with them as a rider, so making Rhaena's claim of Aemond stealing Vhagar from her false as she should not have waited so long to bond with Vhagar,” you started to retell the story to the King who listened closely to your words. “I did not want to fight against my betrothed or my siblings and cousins but I stayed alongside Aemond. The fight broke out between all of them when Baela threw the first punch against Aemond. I did not participate in the fight until Rhaena struck a slap against me while throwing insults towards my loyalty. I was too late to see the blade held by Lucerys and to save Aemond from the attack. It was an unfair fight as it was majorly the four of them against Aemond,” you told your grandfather letting a tear fall on the reddened cheek of yours as you look at Aemond and raised your hand to caress Aemond’s nonaffected cheek. 

Your mother, Rhaenrya looked at you with repulse as you finished retelling the incident. She never realized the actual bond between you and Aemond as she only ever thought of it as you acting for your duty to the throne. 

“Now how is it you are the only one to ever speak the truth? Thank you, granddaughter,” Viserys said as he laid a hand on your shoulder as he passed by you.

“Oh my sweet child,” Alicent came to you and brought you into her arms in a tight squeeze. “Thank you for being with Aemond,” she whispered into your ear as she let go to attend to Aemond more.

A couple of days had passed and you did not leave Aemond’s side for most of it. You noticed himself trying to distance himself from you and knowing it stemmed from the scar that was now embedded upon his face. He was scared of you feeling disgusted by his new appearance. You were quick to reassure him that you still kept the same feelings for him regardless of how he looked. 

You were with Queen Alicent and Aemond in his chambers when the news was broken to you by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys that your stepfather was found dead. You were holding a vase ready to set it down beside Aemond’s bedside table. Upon hearing the news you froze and the vase slipped out of your hands shattering on the ground where you fell to your knees. You felt small shards of glass against your skin, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt in your heart for the loss. 

“Dear child, come here,” Rhaenys said with tears in her eyes as she approached you and signaled you to stand up from the broken glass. You felt stuck. Once again. 

“Y/n?” Aemond questioned from his bed. He got out of the covers and carefully stepped around the glass and brought you to sit on the bed. You were silent as tears gushed from your eyes. 

“How?” you managed to say through your growing sobs. Rhaenys and Corlys came to your side as Alicent and Aemond nodded to them as they walked out of the room out of respect. 

“His body was found burned in the fireplace of the hall,” Corlys told you taking the space to your left and Rhaenys took the spot on your right. You were staying down on your bloodied dress and trembling hands. 

“I never got to tell him how much I loved him,” you cried which had Rhaenys pulling you to her chest in a hug as you gripped her sides letting your anguish out. Corlys wrapped his arm around Rhaenys moving you to let yourself lean against the both of them.  

“He knew. He always loved you and was so proud of how you have grown. Always talking about your accomplishments and the adventures you both took visiting around the realms,” Rhaenys admitted to you softly relishing in the fond memories of her son.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to both of them. 

“For what, granddaughter?” Lord Corlys asked letting his hand run through your hair.

“We all know that I am not my father’s actual daughter, but do know the love and respect I held for him in my heart as he raised me as his own,” you told them in honesty but afraid to look meet their eyes you kept your head down.

“Y/n, you are his daughter through and through. He cherished you more than anything in the world and we will always accept you as our own,” Rhaenys pulled your head up to meet her gaze and more tears filled your eyes at the love and acceptance given to you at this moment. 

“You hold the memories of him. You are his legacy,” Corlys confirmed to you. 

END OF FLASHBACK

“Darling, your mother, and her family are coming back here to petition for the claim of Driftmark in days' time,” Alicent snapped you out of your thoughts which caused you to snap your attention to her setting your cup of tea down on the table. 

“Is there a reason I was not made aware sooner?” you asked her with anxiousness crawling inside you.

“I saw no reason to worry you and the raven only arrived last evening,” she replied leaning forward to place her hand on top of yours. “It will be okay.” 

“I have not spoken to them since that day all those years ago,” you admitted aloud.

After the night when you stood by Aemond’s side to explain to your grandfather about the incident, your mother and your entire family turned their back on you. Which only allowed you to keep in contact with your grandparents Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys whether it was you traveling back to High Tide with Silverwing, Aemond, and Vhagar or them coming to the Red Keep to see one another. 

You did not even attend the wedding between your mother and your biological father still upset about the ending of your step-father. You learned to figure out that it was in the hands of your mother and her newlywed husband. You grew to resent them as they took the person who raised you, loved you for who you truly were, and never wanted to change you. 

You stayed at Driftmark until you got sick of the ocean air, and left to return back to the capital. You were welcomed with open arms by everyone but your own family that took their stay in Dragonstone. Your time in Red Keep allowed you to be with Aemond and spent time with your grandfather until he got bedridden a couple moons ago. 

“May I be excused, my Queen?” you asked.

“Of course,” she smiled at you, removing her hand and allowing you to stand and exit her chambers. 

You walked in the halls of the Keep stuck in your own thoughts and worries about what is to come soon. Knowing that it could never be calm with your families. You found yourself near your shared chambers with Aemond and knocked with the hope he was in the room.  Unless he was on the training grounds with Ser Cole.

“Yes?” you heard from inside the room.

“It is only me,” you said loud enough for him to hear you as well. 

“Well do come in,” it was quiet but loud enough for you to open the door enough to let you slip in and shut it behind you. “Has something happened?”

Aemond notices the look on your face and knows that you are drowning in some sorrows. He gets up from his chair near the fireplace to go to you and takes your hands to lead you to the bed to sit. Both of you sit along the side of the bed, but you are staring at your intertwined hands while he stares at you. He removes one of his hands from your and raises it to your chin to lift your head up towards him. Meeting eye to eye he nods to encourage you to tell him your thoughts.

“My mother and her family are coming back to the Keep,” you muttered looking around the room trying to not meet his eye. 

“Is she to bring all of them?” he scoffed at the thought of them being here.

“Yes, I assume so. She still has Jace and Luke, but I think she has another two in addition with Daemon and not to forget about Baela and Rhaena,” you answered as you thought about the family they had created without you.

“Well, we must prepare ourselves for the upcoming days,” he suggested as he let his fingers play with the sapphire betrothal ring the was worn on your left hand.

“I do not want them here.”

“No one does, My love.”

“They cannot come barging into our lives again just because they got bored of theirs,” you whine in frustration. 

“They are pesky little things,” he spat which made you giggle at the tone of his voice. In which he grinned at the sound of your laughs. 

You stood beside Aemond next to Aegon as the petition of Vaemond Velaryon was to be heard for who was to be the next Lord of the Tides. You felt the glares from your siblings as you stood alongside the Greens. With your emerald green dress with black lacing and your body adorned in jewels, they could not stand the sight of you standing tall with them. 

Though they had no right to any opinions they create of you, that did not stop them from frowning at the conjoined hands of you and the prince to your left. It was a constant reminder for them of the night everything changed. As you did not take their side after Lucerys wrongly slashed Aemond’s face. 

“I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins,” Vaemond stated to Otto Hightower who sat upon the King’s throne. As you have gotten along with the rest of the family, the Hand of the King was one person you would always dislike.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,” Rhaenrya said which made you scoff loudly at the statement. “If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition,” she added on.

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Queen Alicent said from her place near you towards your mother.

“Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,” you continued for the Queen. Rhaenrya snaps her attention to you with sorrow-filled eyes in hearing your voice for the first time in years. Her eyes travel down to the grasp you held onto Aemond’s hand and arm. 

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognize it,” Vaemond scowled at Rhaenrya. “I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor to be the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very…” your mother started.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm,” as your grandfather King Viserys arrives near the doors. 

“I will sit on the throne today,” he breathes heavily. The King limps his way toward the throne before stopping to take in a heaving breath. “I said I’m fine.” 

It broke your heart to see the man you called grandfather slowly wither away to bones. The continuation of his walk does not go any further as he drops his crown as leans over his cane. You removed yourself from Aemond’s side and made your way to your beloved grandfather. 

“Grandfather, here,” you pick up the crown from the floor and offer your arm out to him to try and lead him to the throne easier. 

“Thank you, my child,” as he takes a seat on the throne. 

“My King,” you bowed your head to him as you placed the crown back on his head. 

Making your way down the steps seeing everyone’s shocked faces at the King getting out of his bed rest and his granddaughter for helping him. You made your way back over to the Greens with Alicent stopping you with her arm before you were able to reach Aemond.

“Thank you,” she smiled at you softly.

“I must... admit... my confusion,” the King starts off with coughs. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys.”

“Indeed, Your Grace. It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark would be passed through Ser Laenor’s daughter, Y/n, but in the circumstance that she is the next heir of the Iron Throne after her mother it would be passed to Ser Laenor’s trueborn son… Jacaerys Velaryon,” Princess Rhaenys told to King as she glanced at you slightly giving you a tight-lipped smile. “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

“Well, the matter is settled. Again,” Viserys said. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides. As well as the next change of succession.”

The crowd gasps at the statement of the king. Alicent looks to her father in gleaming hope. Aemond and you look at each other afraid for the words that might be said next as if Aegon were to be crowned heir. Rhaenyra and Daemon look at each other in worry.

“I hereby state a decree whereupon my death the Iron Throne and Crown are passed onto my son Prince Aemond Targaryen and my granddaughter, his betrothed Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Viserys stated to the crowd. “For they are the next heirs to the Iron Throne,” as he looked at you and his son with a smile.

There is an uproar with the crown and attending council members in the change of succession. Cheers were heard all around the room except for your mother and family. Alicent turns to you and Aemond with a bright smile on her face. She takes your face in her hands and tilts your head down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“You will make an amazing queen, Sweetling,” she told you as she placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a tight squeeze. “You, my son will be a brilliant king,” shifting her attention to Aemond. 

“Oh thank the seven hells, it was not me,” you hear Aegon from beside you with a grin on his face which you poked at his side with a small giggle.

“Father, what is the meaning of this?!” your mother shouts from her place to the King.

“It is my wish you do not receive the crown, daughter,” the King said bluntly. 

“You break the law... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir then now your second son and granddaughter,” Vaemond spat at the King. “Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” Viserys scoffed at the claim. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

“Aemond and Y/N are of my kin and as well as Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you... are no more than the second son of Driftmark,” your grandfather defended. 

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this,” Vaemond shouted. “Her children are…”

“Say it,” Daemon said from beside Rhaenyra as Aemond pulled you behind him as he glared at Vaemond. 

“BASTARDS! And she IS A WHORE. Not to mention the ward you had taken under your house,” Vaemond yelled loudly in the room allowing every person to hear his words.

“I will have your tongue for that,” Viserys countered.

“WHO ARE YOU TO SPEAK AGAINST MY BETROTHED?” Aemond shouted in anger leaving your side. 

“Maybe she will end up like her moth-” as Aemond took ahold of Vaemond’s neck dragging him out to the courtyard. 

Everyone followed in suit with you running out after Aemond in front of everyone. Even the king who was moved to a chair carried by guards was in attendance to see what his son will do. Alicent grabbed ahold of your hand preventing you from getting too close. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent in envy at the relationship between you and the Queen.

“VHAGAR!” Aemond yelled out to the sky awaiting his dragon. “I shall feed you to my dragon for your vile insults towards the heir.”

“You are not even the king yet,” Vaemond spat blood on Aemond’s boots. 

“Ipradagon zirȳla, Vhagar!” Aemond commanded which had the large she-dragon pop her head into the courtyard and snatch Vaemond up in one piece. (Eat him, Vhagar)

“Well done, my son,” Viserys said from his chair proud at his son’s defense of his beloved granddaughter. 

“ANYONE ELSE THAT MISSPEAKS A WORD AGAINST PRINCESS Y/N WILL BE BURNED ALIVE BY VHAGAR!” Aemond shouts to the crowd. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” Viserys started. “My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. As well as our new crowned heirs my sweet granddaughter Y/N and my son Aemond. A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed.”

“Thank you, father,” Aemond thanked Viserys while taking your hand from under the table. 

“It seems that we will be planning your wedding sooner than we thought, Darling,” Alicent said from her seat next to the King. You were seated next to Aemond alongside Helaena. 

“Of course!” you beamed.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world yet grown so distant from each other in the years past,” Viserys told around the table as he took off the golden mask from his face. “My own face is no longer a handsome one if indeed it ever was. But tonight I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king but your father. Your brother. Your husband and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems to walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

“To you grandfather, King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name,” you said standing up from your seat and raising a glass.

“To King Viserys!” 

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology,” Rhaenyra toasts to Alicent.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you and to your house. For our children will make fine King and Queen,” Alicent smiled warmly to you and Aemond before turning back to Rhaenyra for the toast. 

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies as Prince Aemond marries my dear sister. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles,” Jace remarked after he had slammed his fists onto the table from what Aegon muttered to him and Baela. 

“I would like to say a few words. I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you except sometimes when he's drunk,” Helaena rose from the seat next to you. “Unless of course they are anything like how Aemond is to Y/n who worships the ground she walks on,” she finished with an airy laugh as you gaped at her wording with wide eyes.

“In speaks of her, this one goes to my daughter, who will ascend the crown and throne as well as her betrothed my nephew. For you shall have a long life and take the throne that you have taken from your mother,” Daemon mocked as he stood from his seat raising a glass to you. 

“You are no father of mine. And I did not take anything from anyone. Aemond and I will allow the kingdoms to grow and prosper instead of you and Rhaenyra taking it for your own selfish reasons and burning it to the ground,” you announced as you slammed your hands on the table.

“Brother, it was upon my wish it was given to them,” Viserys told his younger brother. 

“You are a disgrace to me,” Rhaenyra shouted at you. 

“You murdered my father. It is you who is a disgrace to the Targaryen name!” you argued back with rising anger at the thought of the two people who planned your father’s murder to be standing in the same room as you. 

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to say something but it closed with silence filling the room as tension surrounded the air. Viserys coughs loudly before groaning at the pain in his head making Alicent call the guards to take him back to his chambers. Aemond guides you to sit back down in your seat. Otto smirks at the obvious split between you and your so-called family. Aegon smirks at the entire situation. Daemon frowns at the result of this dinner. 

“I believe it is best if we end dinner now,” Alicent spoke out.

“Are you okay, My love?” you heard from behind you as you took out the pins holding up your hair. 

“Of course,” you replied. 

Aemond remove your hand from your hair and replaced them with his own as he started to carefully unbraid your hair. Though it was a normal occurrence that Aemond undid your hair, it never seemed to stop the warm feeling you would get when he did. 

“It is you who deserves to sit on the throne the most.”

“We will share it.”

“My love, it belongs to you, a true Targaryen.”

“Please do not mention my heritage as of now,” you groaned at the mention which made Aemond laugh at the thought of the dinner that just happened.

“In days' time we will be married,” Aemond said as he took your hand to motion you to stand.

“We shall be bound till our last breath,” rising from your seat to stand in front of him.

“I would never want it any other way,” pressing his lips against yours.

“MOTHER KNOWS BEST”

part 1 of _

warnings: angst , bad mother mother gothel (cher)

pairing : prince ben x reader

fandom: descendants (1)

[ben pov]

“How is it possible you’re going to be crowned king next month you’re just a baby” my dad smiles with my mom on his arm

“He’s turning sixteen dear” my mom smiles looking at me.

“Hey pops” I say smiling back as the tailor takes my measurements.

“Sixteen? That’s far to young to be crowned king… I didn’t make a good decision until i was at least 42” my dad said folding his glasses and putting them in his suit pockets

“Uh you decided to marry me at 28” my mom rolled her eyes and scoffed

“Well it was either you or a teapot” I laughed my mom didn’t find it funny . “kidding”

“Mom,Dad I’ve chosen my first official proclamation. I’ve decided that the children of the isle of the lost get the chance to live here in auradon” my parents looked at my shocked my mom even drop a coat

“Every time I look out to the island i feel like they’ve been abandoned!” I defend my proclamation

“The children of our sworn enemies living among us?” My father looked at me angry

“We start off with a few at first the ones that need our help the most, I’ve already chosen them” I smiled standing my ground.

“Have you?”.

“I gave you a second chance , who are there parents?” my mom smiled at me

“ Cruella De Ville, Jafar, The Evil Queen, Mother Gothel and …. Maleficent”

“MALEFICENT????? She is the worst villain in the land” my dad shouts at me.

“Dad Just hear me out here” I defend raising my voice a little bit.

“I WONT HEAR OF IT. They are guilty of unspeakable crimes.”

“Dad there children are innocent, don’t you think they deserve a shot at a normal life ? dad” I look at him basically pleading with him.

“I suppose there children are innocent” he sighed

********

the whole rotten to the core dance and song thing happens.

[y/n pov ]

Maleficent walks towards us and all the people run away. figures everyone hates her… she talks to mal but i had no interest in listening because it was always the same thing. Maleficent telling mal she wasn’t “truly evil” which is not true mal is the worst person I know and that’s a compliment.

“Oh There’s news!!! you five have been chosen to go to a different school…. In Auradon” maleficent says now im listening a different school? away from mother?

The other vks squirm trying to run away but the goons hold them back . Mal ,Evie , Jay and Carlos go back in forth with reasons we shouldn’t go i stayed quiet.

I always felt like I wasn’t evil enough hopefully some day I’ll be truly evil and wicked like Maleficent and Mal. Maybe this school would be my chance to prove to my mother that I could be just as evil as the other vks maybe even more .

*

{ik mother gothel isn’t a sorceress but just go with it }

“mother i don’t wanna go, please why can’t they go without me? with mal they’ll be fine” i pleaded on my knees to my mother but she just laughed and picked me up off the floor.

“don’t be a drama queen y/n, you will be going to auradon prep and you will love it” she said dramatically she looked serious so i didn’t fight her on it.

“how does this benefit us mother? rapunzel already cut her stupid hair off” i scoffed fixing my hair

“when me, eq, jafar and maleficent take over auradon , i will simply plant more of those flowers and you and the rest of the hoodlum bunch can loot and cause chaos all you want” she smiled probably daydreaming of being youthful and pretty again

“but-“ before i could even speak my mother hushed me up and cut me off mid sentence.

“Listen, you will stick with your little hoodlum bunch and steal the wand like maleficent said as soon as we have the wand the faster we can get our revenge” my mother handed me a book

“What’s this? Is it like the one maleficent gave mal?” i asked curiously.

“Nope! mine is much more powerful, you will read it , study it and practice it because?” She moved the hair outta my face

“Because mother knows best” i softly frowned while picking up my bags.

“Now go change that dress evie made you , looks to much like that blasted little princesses dress”

beep beep

“No time for that mother but I will change when I arrive to auradon “

The rest of the vks got pep talks from there parents while mine just practically insulted me but then again that was just how mother showed her love. I grab my bags and follow the rest of the villains down stairs and into the limousine.

“Bring home the gold”

“Bring home a puppy”

“Bring home a prince”

“Don’t come back until you’re eviler than you came” i shivered at my mothers words

“SAY YES, SAY YOU WILL BE MY VISCOUNTESS”

songs i listened to: 200% akmu, sofia clairo

this is super short but i just wanted to get something out and i thought this was a cute scenario.

Viscount Tewksbury x Fem Reader 🫶🏻

“Have you ever thought of marriage” Tewksbury asked you as he watched you twirl around his garden.

“Every lady has my lord” you smiled at him , he followed you around his garden as you smelled each and every flower.

“As you know I’m looking for a lady to uh” he cleared his throat “to uh help me extend my family name”.

“So your looking for a bride so she can have your babies? ” you laughed at the thought of mini Tewksburys running around.

Tewksbury turned red “and to love of course, would you like to have children?” he asked waiting on a answer.

“yes but I’m far to young. I’m only eighteen and besides I don’t have any offers yet” you looked at Tewksbury with a fake frown , he rolled his eyes

“You have one” he smiled softly at you

“From who?” you looked confused.

“Me?” he got down in front of you on his knee

“What are you doing my lord , get up” you gave him a shocked expression.

“I want to spend everyday with you, I want to wake up next to you. Will you marry me? Will you be my Viscountess” he took out a box from his jacket and opened it revealing a gorgeous emerald ring. “I can offer you everything you’d ever want”

“Tewksbury- I don’t know what to say” your eyes widened when you saw the big gem, no it was because you never thought a viscount would propose to you

“Say yes , say you will be my Viscountess” he smiled up at you with his golden brown eyes.

“Yes! I will be your Viscountess” you felt tears in your eyes as Tewksbury put the ring on your finger. He picked you up and spun you in the air then kissing you passionately when he softly put you down.

sorry for barely updating i had summer classes 💀

since summer is starting tomorrow i will get some posts out ! i got a ben smut coming out, a louis partridge fic and a Bruce Wayne fic coming out. I also will update “Mother Knows Best”

unfinished but cured my daddy issues, Ben affleck >>

You Can Call Me Bruce...(Part V)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Warnings: Age gap, mild swearing (? I think?)

Previous Parts: I, II, III, IV

Dedicated to: everyone who stuck by this story. I apologize for this much delayed update, things had been hectic up until a few days ago, but I’m back now. 

I haven’t tagged anyone in particular because I’ve gone too long to even remember those who requested (please don’t throw rocks), but feel free to inbox and remind me for the next installment–which, most likely, will be the last.

                                                  ~*~*~*~

“You wanted to see me?” Bruce asks.

He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, using his best Batman impression to try and ward off all thoughts that he’s scared. He isn’t scared. He could never be scared. By even harboring such feelings from the start, Bruce knew that it would come to this, and he’s not scared at all because he’s prepared.

He’s prepared to hear Alfred’s disdain.

He’s prepared for judgmental stares and disguised accusations; for wrathful scolding, for raised voices. He’s even ready for things to get physical, worst comes to worst, and Bruce promises he’ll let Alfred win, for he truly deserves all of it what shall be thrown at him.

“Take a seat.” The older man finally speaks, back to the door as he stands at the sink. Water drips from the faucet, drop after drop. It echoes into the otherwise silent room. Bruce moves.

He seats himself at the counter, steepling his hands on top, and with a deep breath, the butler finally turns. Their gazes meet.

“Master Wayne.” He says; to Bruce, it always sounds like a hello or a good morning . Familiar. Routine. Hearing it uttered now with such venom is almost painful.

“You’re quite punctual for things like these.”He says

“Things like what, Alfred?”

“As if you don’t know.”

A silence.

The two friends stare at each other. Neither speaks. Wind whistles through the room, and they sit, reading the lines and wrinkles and creases carved in their faces from all the battles they’ve faced together.

So many.  And saying Bruce doesn’t feel his heart wrench even a little would be a lie.

Alfred is his best-friend. Alfred has always been his best friend. More than anything, he’s almost been like a father to him, and facing him in such a rancorous environment is sickening.

He wants to get up and run away, he now realizes. He wants to elude this conflict. Avoid it. Bury it. If you asked him a second ago if he was afraid, Bruce would have said no, would’ve scoffed at the mere preposition. If you asked him now, he’d say the same thing…

Because he wasn’t afraid.

He was mournful.

Mournful that it had come to this; mournful that he was sitting here, in this kitchen, about to be forced to pick a fight with his best-friend.

“You say you don’t know,” Alfred begins. “…and yet here you sit, wearing that very same scowl of intimidation you give the joker.”

“Is that supposed to make me mad.” Bruce retorts. His voice is harsh,stoic.

He watches the older man’s eyes. And then they soften.

And then Bruce feels a vein in his neck twitch, but he can’t do anything about that, not now. Instead he focuses on Alfred, who just as much is trying to shutter his emotions. This is hard for him too. How can it not be? The two of them are family. To Bruce, Alfred is his only family, and knowing that only makes it harder to pull through.

“Master Wayne…”Alfred says, raising himself to his feet as he saunters over to the sink. The faucet drips and drips in the hanging silence, taunting Bruce.  “I’ve known you all your life. I’ve known you since you were just a boy and I’ve seen you grow. Seen you through all your trials and tribulations, your successes, your failures. I’ve watched become batman and save Gotham and in all that time, I’ve never asked for much.” He pauses, eyes searching, searching desperately for any form of surrender in Bruce’s feature’s.

But he won’t let him have it.

Bruce clenches his jaw. It feels like his teeth just might shatter from the pressure.

“But I ask you now.” He continues.  “Please. Let this one go.”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Alfred.”

“I don’t want to see you going Y/N again, you hear me? I don’t want to even see the two of you in the same room.” He’s straight to the point, not sparing Bruce of the bluntness, and it cuts him like a knife. He tries not show it, clenching his jaw further.

“She’ll be leaving soon.” Alfred continues. “A week. A week and she’ll be gone, and until then I want you to put an end to whatever is going on.”

“Nothing is going on.” Bruce’s voice is leveled and yet firm. Authoritative, like he is a captain ordering his cadet. He can see the scorn, evident and dripping from his features, in Alfred’s face as he scowls.

“Don’t be daft, boy..” he grits. “I saw you, I saw the two of you in your room—“

“We weren’t doing anything!”

“So you mean you were just talking as you said?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

“You mean she was just telling you about her work?”

“Yes!”

“You mean you didn’t try to kiss her?” He bellows, angry, exasperated.

All the blood drains from Bruce’s face.

His skin goes white, as white as snow, as white as the age painting Alfred’s hair. He can feel it: the embarrassment, as now the unspoken is vocalized, the other shoe has dropped. Bruce gulps thickly, and then averts his gaze, breaking his poker face.

“You mean I’m making this up?” Alfred continues. “You mean I didn’t walk in on you ready to soil her innocence.”

“Stop talking like she’s a child.” A vein in Bruce’s neck pops angrily as his fists clench. He knew this was coming right from the start, but hearing it out loud makes him freeze, makes his stomach feel like molten tar. God, how embarrassing. How incriminating.

“Compared to you she is. Compared to you she might as well be in diapers. Age regardless, sir, you’re older. You’re older in soul and you’re older in mind. You’ve seen things….terrible things. That in itself would mark you as ancient, even if you were clocking thirty.”

“You think I don’t know this, Alfred? I do. Goddamn it, I do.” He does. This is why Bruce never wanted this—this is why he kept it hidden away, locked up like a vile and sinful thing that it was; but now it’s out in the open and he feels exposed, vulnerable. They’re telling him things he already knows.

They’re telling him things he doesn’t want to know because knowing them makes him feel even worse. He doesn’t want that and God, he doesn’t want this to be happening but it is and…

“Act like it. You’re not a child.”

Bruce lifts his gaze. “What do you think I plan on doing Alfred? Hmm? Do you think I want to get in her pants?”

“What other motive do—“

“What do you mean what other motive—“

“What is going on?” A voice cuts through their bickering, confused and harried.

Both of them freeze. Bruce feels his heart, formerly rampant and rapidly beating in his chest, still, and he doesn’t want to look, but at the same time it’s tempting because it’s her.

Y/N.

Y/N, standing in the doorway.

Y/N, estranged and weary.

Finally, he gives in and Bruce’s eyes dart to her, raking over her face.  She looks to him. “What’re you two doing?” The young girl asks. “Why are you arguing like this?”

Aflred, standing by the sink, lets his hands slowly lower and unclenches his fist. He swallows. “Y/N….” He admonishes. “Stay out of this.”

“Like I hell I will, Uncle Fred. I just walked in on the two of you nearly tearing each other’s fucking throats out and you think I’m going to let this go?”

He clenches his jaw. “It’s none of your business.”

“Except it is.”

“Y/N.” Bruce cuts through the growing argument, earning the pair’s attention. Y/N’s eyes flare with irritation and the next thing he knows she’s up in his face, but a few inches away.

“You…”The young girl sneers. “What the hell are you doing arguing with him? He’s your family—you’re both each other’s family! You’re not supposed to be spewing hate at each other like this, for Christ sake.”

“You have no right to interrupt like this.” Says Alfred.

Y/N scoffs and rolls her eyes, about to speak, but she’s cut off.

“Go to your room!” He commands, voice dressed in sternness, authoritativeness that Bruce hasn’t heard in so long. He used to use that tone with Bruce when he was just a child, when they’d get into an argument about him disrespecting Alfred or when there needed to be some disciplinary ground rules. It had once been frightening. Hearing it now, however, Bruce feels nothing but scorn well up within him.

His fists clench at his sides as a protectiveness takes over him, and the next thing he knows, he’s standing in front of Y/N, shielding her from her livid uncle. Just to keep from things getting ugly, but he hears something sift behind him. When he turns around, Y/N is glaring at him bitterly, stepping out from behind his burly form with an offended expression marring her features.

“I don’t need you protecting me.” She says, like she’s angry, like him trying to help her is almost as bad as Alfred’s rage. “I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need you trying to treat me one, Uncle Fred—and I don’t need you trying to stick up for me when I can do it perfectly fine on my own.”

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”

“This is outrageous! Both of you,” Alfred cuts in, and then all hell breaks loose, because Y/N starts to argue with him.

Bruce watches from the sidelines, amazed and frightened. It’s a vicious battle. Words fly from person to person, pure venom, bitter, angry. Y/N brings up their family and how everybody still sees her as a baby, and Alfred retaliates by reminding her off all the bad decisions she’s made that have caused that. He’s yelling, going red in the face. It isn’t until he hears a small sniffle that Bruce realizes Y/N is crying.

“Huh, see that—grown girls don’t cry when you tell them the truth!” Alfred yells.

“Shut up! J-just…just shut up.” Y/N drags her hand across her face, trying to dry her eyes but instead smearing her makeup. The entire image is terribly morbid. Her face is red and blotchy, and there are dark trails of mascara running down her cheeks. She’s crying, sobbing, hiccupping and grappling for air to feel her lungs.

Bruce can’t take it.

“Enough, Alfred!” He cuts in, stepping in front of the young girl. This time Y/N doesn’t shove him out of the way; instead, she cowers behind him, accepts his protection, like a weak dog.

He’s shielding her like a large building, sturdy and strong and trying his ebst not to throw a fist into the elder-man’s jaw. “Jesus, Alfred, you didn’t have to be so harsh. What’s wrong with you?”

“I can’t do this master Wayne!” Alfred’s voice is leveled, dangerously low. He has calmed. The vein in his neck has gone back into hiding, but even then, his face is still the color of blood.

“I’m going to make it easy for all of us; either I go, or she does.”

“What?” Both Bruce and Y/N say in unison, before he cans art to feel it. It takes moment. A second. Then it sets in, the realization of what he’s saying.

A pang of pain shooting through him like an arrow, Bruce feels his body go cold.

Alfred’s eyes hold a pain similar to his that say that this isn’t easy for him either. This isn’t what he wants. But what other choice does he have?

“You heard, master Wayne.” The elder man tries to coat his voice with a strength that betrays him when it almost cracks. “It’s either I stay, or she does.”

“Alfred…”

“This entire situation has gone too out of hand. For Christ-sake, Bruce—“ Bruce. Alfred rarely—never—calls him Bruce. He has always been Master, to him. Master Wayne. Sir. Variants of a formality that have never hurt him as much as hearing his own name has now.

Memories of his boyhood flood Bruce, a time when Alfred called him that, the only time. It was so brief. He became Sir at the tender age of thirteen. Years later, and the title has been revoked.

Bruce.

“—I can’t let this happen. Do you realize how much is at stake here? Do you realize how badly the two of you would be together? Y/N, you still have your studies to tend to.”

“I know.”

“Then bloody act like it.”

“Alfred…” Bruce cuts in, and all eyes turn to him.

The room quiets momentarily.

Alfred’s eyes glaze over as he looks at him. Their gazes lock—both pained, both not wanting this to fall through. Why is he letting it, then? Why won’t Bruce just do something, he wonders, until he realizes there’s little to do.

“You have until tomorrow to choose. If you don’t have answer by dawn—” Alfred’s eyes go to Y/N. There are tears staining the apples of her cheeks. “—then I make the final decision. Y/N leaves. You own up to your mistake, and clean up this bloody mess you’ve made.” He says and then, before Bruce, or Y/n or the wind that howls through the hallway, can get anything in, he turns and leaves.

Hiss jaw clenches, and he gulps thickly. The room is silent. Footsteps are heard padding away, further and further, until the only sound left is that of Bruce’s heart wrenching in his chest. 

                                                    ~*~*~*~

Her heart hammers in her chest.

Her breath feels hot and shallow and not enough, and her skin is drained of all its blood and colorless. She’s standing outside his bedroom door. Outside she can hear the hoot of an owl and the whisper of the wind. It’s two in the morning. It’s cold and she’s scared and Y/N immediately regrets having gotten out of bed to come and do this, because nothing good can come of it.

Turn back now, her mind says. Go back to bed. Go back to silence. Don’t tell him how you feel.

But she doesn’t listen.

She knocks gingerly, but it’s feint and barely audible, so she tries once more, curling her fist tighter this time. She watches Bruce, laying in bed with his back to her, stir and then slowly sit up.

“Yeah..?” He groggily asks, rubbing his eyes.

The young girl bites her lip and wrings her hands harder together, her stomach knotting further.

She’s standing in the doorway, one hand up on the wooden frame and the other rested tenderly on the crook of her neck. Her eyes, wet and red, search the darkness for Bruce’s silhouette. He’s sitting at the edge of his bed, sleepy-eyed and dazed as he looks at her.

And y/n feels a chill run down her spine when her gaze locks onto his.

He knows.

Uncle Fred told him. Uncle Fred told him everything. Now, even just standing before him feels so shameful and embarrassing,  like she’s clad in nothing but her skin suit, like she’s exposed. Because she is. Because Bruce knows. Because….

“I thought you were asleep.” He says, pulling her from her reverie.

Y/N gulps as sweat beads at the nape of her neck. He’s awake. At least, she thinks, that spares her the task of waking him up.

“Not yet. I’m…” she stumbles. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

“Nightmares?”

“I wish.” A sardonic laugh escapes the elder man. Y/N clinches her hands tighter together. The room is dark and hot and she can feel her clothes clinging to her body like flesh to her bones.

Bruce cards a hand through his hair, tired, worn out. Even if she wanted to, Y/N wouldn’t be able to dismiss his claims of insomnia—he looks exhausted. Rings of grey brim his eyes and the light once glinting fiercely and vivacious in them has dulled down.

Bruce looks tired. Bruce is tired.

Bruce knows.

“Let’s just say I have a lot to think about.” He explains after a silence.  “That kind of things keeps you up at night, you know?”

“ I know.” She nods curtly, biting her lip. She wants to say something in response—anything—but all coherence escapes her. She’s at loss for words, because what can she say?

The bomb dropped a few hours ago still lingers in the air of the house. It’s been two hours since Uncle Fred left the house; he was emotional and angry when she went to talk to him and he ended up storming out and driving off for a drink (or twenty). Y/N doesn’t mention this to Bruce.

Instead, she tries to gather her thoughts and courage and say something, because who will if not her.

“I….” She starts. His head lifts, attention befalling the young girl.

His brow then furrows softly. “Are…you feeling okay?”

“Uh—yeah…I…I am.”

“You don’t seem like it.”

“Well, not getting any sleep will do that to you.” She quips.

He nods slowly. “Right….”

A silence hangs between them. Neither party says anything for a while, and it’s painful because she came here to speak, to tell him how she felt, to vocalize all this rampant emotion that won’t cease within her, and so Y/N forces the words out of her mouth.

“I have something to tell you.” She says.  She swallows, trying to mollify her nerves. You can do this, Y/N tells herself. You will do this.

“I…Uncle Fred told you already, didn’t he?”

Bruce is quiet.

She waits for a response, one that doesn’t come, until she has top force herself to speak up once more.

“I said Uncl—“

“I heard what you said.” He says curtly, cutting her off.

Y/N closes her mouth, and then mutters a quiet oh. Her heart is racing—God, is it racing—and her lungs constrict and the blood drains from her fingertips and from her face and from her, and Bruce is looking at her with inquisitive eyes that egg her on.

“I know that he told you—obviously. It’s uhm….it’s okay, if you know” Y/N explains, trying (and failing) to not let the desperation seep into her voice. “I wanted to tell you myself, of course, but, having somebody else do it is okay, because the outcome is still the same. You still know.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“And if I want to?”

“Then you have to stop. Just,…” Bruce sighs, eyes sliding over her face from a few inches away. The room is dim and quiet and her heart is in her throat, but it doesn’t matter, because Bruce is so close, and he knows.

“Just…”.” His voice is different, baring an edge and uncertainty that she has never witnessed before that makes things seem even more eerie. His eyes, a rich grey, bore into hers.

“Stop this, Y/N. Please. Don’t make it harder than it already is.”

“I’m not trying to.” Her eyes water and she shakes her head softly. “Bruce, I…”

“Y/N..”

They’re less than inches apart. Neither of them dare to break eye contact, only leaning closer in, and closer in, and Y/N’s eyes begin to flutter shut, and Bruce doesn’t pull away, and it feels as though the world is fragmented on a cosmic level when their lips meet.

Their mouths are pressed together, and they kiss.

They kiss.

His tongue is warm and wet as runs along her lips. Y/N gladly lets it, lifting her hand to his head to real him closer in. She presses herself flush to his form. Bruce reciprocates, cupping her face in both his hands and maneuvering his lips against hers, and—

“Bruce—“ Y/N tries to speak.

“Just stop.” His breath fans against her skin, against her nose. She lets out a breathy moan as he captures her lips once more, feeling her heart flutter like a cage of untamed birds.

Her hands slide through Bruce’s hair like water when she feels his hands leave her face and go to her waist. He hoists her up, and she jumps, wrapping her legs around him, not caring what they’re doing or what they’re about to do because, god, this feels too good.

They make their way to his bed. Fall onto it. Kiss, touch. Y/N swears that she can feel her soul floating higher and higher until it’s of her body and into the astral plane, watching their two bodies mould together upon the covers. Bruce’s hand slides beneath the fabric of her shirt and she feels a jolt of pleasure at the contact.

“Bruce…” She pants, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He dips his head and slides his lips down to her jaw, to her neck until they’re peppering desperate, wet kisses along her collarbone.  The young girl moans at the contact; her mind is fogging up like a car window on a misty evening. Fear clutches her heart in its icy talons and gives it a firm squeeze. This is wrong—God, this is all so wrong, that she’s certain of as much as she is that the sky is blue…

But Y/N doesn’t want it to stop.

                                               ~*~*~*~*~ Hopefully the wait was worthwhile lol

If you guys enjoyed this then go ahead and like, reblog or just follow to catch any more imagines I post. With my new computer finally in my possession, expect more updates and oneshots coming in.

As always, have a nice day!