#strak!reader

[tonysslut]

take control

pls do not copy or repost my work

mob boss tony has been heavy on my mind so enjoy ;)

tony stark masterlist

you were laying on the couch when you heard the front door open and quickly slam shut. keys being thrown on the dinning table as tony walked into the house. you could already tell today didn't go well.

he walked up to the bar in the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of bourbon and took a long swig straight from the bottle. he didn't flinch as the whiskey burned down his throat.

you gently made your way over, not wanting to startle him.

"is everything okay?" you asked, sitting on one of the bar stools beside him.

he let out a deep sigh, running his hand over his face.

"nothing to worry your pretty little head, amore mio." he said, grabbing the back of your head so he could place a kiss on your forehead.

you could see how tense he was, red eyes telling you he was stressed. an idea came to mind, you knew the perfect way to help him relax.

your hands on his waist brought his attention back to your face. "can i do something for you?" you asked, giving him your best doe eyes, knowing he could never resist them.

he raised his brow at your question.

"meet me upstairs in 5 minutes." you quickly blurted out, giving him a peck on the lips before jumping off the stool and running up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

you shut the door behind you as you walk in, grabbing a few candles and spreading them around the room. the warm smell of vanilla filled the space. grabbing all the pillow you set them up against the headboard in a u-shape, and quickly stripped out of your clothes and threw on one of your silk robes.

a soft knock at the door let you know time was up. tony walked in and looked around, eyes lingering on you.

you smiled at him and extended your hand for him to grab and pulled him close to you.

"what are you up to?" he asked.

"i want to help you relax." you said, placing a kiss on his neck, he leaned to the side to give you more access, smirking against his neck at the motion.

you continue to place kisses as you undo his tie, tossing it on the floor. unbutton his dress shirt, your hands roam his bare chest when you let it fall to the floor.

he grabs your face when you reach his pants, kissing you deeply as you pop the button, undoing the zipper so they drop to floor. tony impatience gets the best of him as he pulls down his boxers and kicks them off.

he puts his hands on your waist and starts forcing you to walk backwards. you almost forget what your were originally planning on doing until your feel the edge of the bed against the back of your legs.

"i want to take care of you today." you whisper as you pull away.

you can see a flash of confusion on his face. whenever he comes home like this from work, you let him have his way with you, give him back the control he lost at work.

it's almost like he doesn't know what to say.

"do you trust me?" you ask, rubbing your thumbs against his biceps.

he doesn't hesitate to nod. "of course i do."

"if you don't like what i'm doing, i'll stop and we can just go back to what we normal do, okay?" you say, watching him nod.

you place another kiss on his lips and undo your robe. he doesn't make his wander eyes subtle, he makes sure you know he's staring at your naked body.

you climb onto the bed, placing your back against the pillows you set up.

"sit in between my legs, baby." you say as you spread your legs, wet cunt on full display.

he's almost hypnotised as he crawls towards you, turning around and place his back against your bare chest. you place kisses on his neck as you run your nails up his arms, doing the same to his thighs when you feel him relax against you.

you bring your hand up to your mouth and spit on it, coating his tip in your spit. your movements are slow, you don't want to rush anything, just wanting him to feel everything.

his breathing gets heavy as you continue to work his tip, precum leaking and running down his shaft. you make your way down longer, stroking more of him until your reach his balls.

he's already turned into putty, his hands gripping your thighs in an attempt and trying to control himself.

"does that feel good?" you ask against his ear. he just nods. "i need to hear you say it." you say sternly, with the same tone he uses on you in moment like this.

"yes, feels amazing, baby." he whispers back.

"good boy." you whisper. he moans at your praise, thigh muscles tensing as you continue to stroke him.

you reach down and massage his balls in his hand, you can feel how full they are. he jerks forward when you tighten your hold on his shaft. whisper a "fuck" under his breath.

his hands now hover over your hand, almost like he wants to guide your movements.

"go ahead," you say, "show me how you touch yourself."

he places his hand over yours and squeezes some more, moving your hands up and down, lingering a bit on his tip before repeating the movements.

you decide to use both hands now, not bothering to spit on your other hand, his precum was enough lubricante.

he lets out a loud moan and moves his hand back to your thigh. you can see his toes curling, stomach tensing as you speed up your movements, focusing on hand solely on his tip.

having him like this has you so incredibly wet, you never thought you'd see your big and bad mob boss in this position. sat between your legs as you pleasure him.

the candle lit room was filled with his grunts and moans, the thin layer of sweat that coated his body made him glow. he was beautiful, this was a sight you'd never forget.

"i'm so close." he said in a broken whisper. "please don't stop."

the way he spoke made you speed up your movements, just wanting to give him the release he desperately needed.

you turn to look at him only to find him already staring at you. he leans forward and kisses you, it's mainly just tony moaning against your lips since he just couldn't control himself anymore.

you suddenly feel his hot release start to run down your hands, spurting out to coat his stomach as well. he throws his head back against your shoulder, body going limp as your stroke him, wanting to milk his cock. you only stop when he starts to jerk in over stimulation.

"look at the mess you made." you say, bringing your hand up to your mouth to taste him. he's quick to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue.

you break the kiss and reach over to your night stand to grab the towel you had left. gently clean him up, he hisses when you reach his cock, clearly still very sensitive.

kissing him once more, you go to pull away, but tony quickly grabs your arm.

"where are you going?" he asks with a mischievous tone.

"i'm gonna run you a bath, i'll be right back." you say, expecting him to let you go. but he doesn't, he just pulls you right back into the bed.

he places his hands on your thighs and flips over so he's now laying on his stomach between your legs.

"i could damn near feel this cunt throbbing just now. let me repay you the favor."

just imagine the image i have as my profile picture when he throws his head back 🤭 i don't think i've ever written a subbish tony before so hopefully i did him justice!

likes, reblogs, and feedback are highly appreciated! ੈ♡˳

[gulnarsultan]

reader with her children robb , sansa , jon , arya and bran stark together

Your sons Robb and Jon always want you to watch their sword practice. Honestly, a lot of people look at you strangely because you accept Jon as your son. Many noble women do not let bastards near their own children, and they hate it. Some even tried to get the bastards killed. But after you held baby Jon in your arms, you treated him as if he were your own. Bran likes to show you he can climb high places. Worrying and making a fuss about him always makes Bran giggle. Arya says how much you want to be a knight instead of a lady. You don't punish her like other moms do when she uses swords, shoots arrows, and does other male activities. You reassure him that he can be both a lady and a knight. Sansa is one of your children who tries to spend the most time with you. She works hard to be a perfect lady like you. She loves that you comb her hair and braid different kinds of braids. She wears it proudly when you sew clothes for her. Rickon spends time on your lap as he is the youngest. You don't get tired of stroking her hair and kissing her cheeks. You stroke the children's hair and kiss their foreheads. You are a mother who has adopted the principle of being a shield in front of them in order to show them the right way, to give them assurance, love and compassion, and even to defend them. Everyone in the north agrees that you are the most perfect mother. Your children are trying to be the best sons they can for you.

[vivalarevolution]

𝓕𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓼

Robb Stark x Reader x Jon Snow

Request: „I love ur writing and I wondering if you could write a robb stark x reader x jon snow where they’re fighting over a winter fella new maid or smth, tysm!‟

A/N: A request from anon. I won't lie, despite the little information I was very inspired by this idea. I hope all of you will enjoy reading it. Please remember that english is not my native language, mistakes may or will occur.

Additionally, work contains smut, minors do not interact.

They had never seen her before, and perhaps that was why their curiosity about her was so unbridled. They couldn't explain it, but from the moment they laid their eyes on her they had to touch her, they had to feel her, they had to taste her.

-You feel so good around me - the man murmured directly into her ear, biting its lobe.

Woman only moaned quietly, resisting her forehead on a cold stone wall. Her body trembled with the intense pleasure that flowed through her veins. Her legs almost gave up under her , if not for a strong hand that tightened on her hip, giving her goosebumps.

-Robb...no...we can't - she said, closing her eyes and parting her mouth when his member hit her insides mercilessly.

Man muttered in response before placing his free hand around her slender neck, squeezing gently to remind her of the wolf behind her devouring her piece by piece.

-Your soft lips say something different from your body - the brunette noticed after a while attacking her bare arms with wet kisses and rough bites - You want me like I want you. So let your big wolf devour you - he growled close to her ear, kissing her cervix harder with each word he spoke.

Y/n gave a silent scream. Her eyes closed tightly, and her hands tightened into fists. She was so close, she felt it. Her release was like a wave at sea. The water went back, just to hit the coastal stones firmly, playing with her. And Robb, Robb was the ruler of this sea.

-So close... please Robb! - she whimpered desperately, looking at him with eyes clouded with lust.

-I know, little lamb. I know - the young man murmured, abusing all the right places inside her with strong and aggressive movements that took her breath away with each successive stroke of his hips - Let go, let me feel you.

His words were the key that opened the golden gate leading straight to a sweet pleasure so good it was almost forbidden.

Her eyes closed, and a wave of pleasure passed through her, spreading everywhere in her body. From the top of her head to the tips of her fingers. It felt as if time had stopped and the sound around them ceased to exist.

-Good little lamb - said Robb, lazily kissing her neck - Now let the wolf fill you up.

-Yes, yes - she whimpered, opening her mouth wide and frowning as she felt another orgasm coming toward her, so fast and unnoticed it almost hurt - Please, I want to be full!

Y/n moaned softly, feeling the sudden warmth that poured from her insides, right between her thighs. With her hand, she sluggishly grabbed the brunette's neck, pulling him to herself, connecting their lips in a slow kiss.

Every next touch, every kiss, every sigh. Everything was more intimate, more sensual... more forbidden and dangerous.

The slightest sound from the end of the corridor startled her like a doe that was being hunted. Fleeing before a predator could spot her ,before Robb could've grab her in his claws again, feasting a little longer.

First she heard their voices, then felt their burning eyes on her skin. Yet her movements remained the same, composed, calm. While the two wolves watched her, no matter how far away she was from them.

-I see the way you're looking at her - Robb confessed in a hard controlled voice- You're my brother, but she's not yours...never will be.

Jon stopped staring at his beautiful Y/n, resembling a doe in her delicacy, reluctantly letting her immaculate, ruddy face escape his view.

-She's a free woman - bastard remarked, fixing his cold gaze on him - She can choose whoever she wants - he remarked, noticing in the corner of his eye how her gaze involuntarily wandered in their direction, watching them from a distance, trying so desperately to hear what they were talking about.

-And you believe she'll choose you? - Stark asked, unable to stop staring at the woman who had beguiled his senses and soul.

-If she would choose me - said the black-haired man, stopping for a moment - I would let her. I would let her do whatever she wanted because I couldn't tell her no. Never.

Robb clenched his hand into a fist, his face hardened into an indifferent expression. He wanted to be controlled, understanding. But still the blood of the north flowed in his veins, the blood of the wolf. And his dark, primitive side knew, knew that the moment he laid his eyes on the woman, she became his, only his.

Before the eldest son of the Lord of Winterfell could speak, Y/n caught his attention again. Just like the night before, she ran away suddenly, unexpectedly, as if something spooked her before she saw it.

He wanted to know what, but when he looked back, she was gone. Just like Jon.

She thought she had run away. She should be smarter.

Within seconds she was in the arms of Ned Stark's son, gasping as he pulled her closer, shielding her from the eyes of the outside world.

-Jon - she said almost breathlessly.

-Y/n - he replied, kissing her jaw gently - Why are you still running away? - he asked, holding her tightly in his arms.

-I'm not running away - she confessed, leaning against his torso - I just wanted to get rid of so many eyes on my skin - she added, tilting her head slightly to look into the man's dark irises - They seem to be following me wherever I go.

The man smiled slightly at her confession, his hand found its place on her cheek, stroking its smooth surface with his thumb.

-You are a white deer in the darkness - he stated, staring intensely into her eyes with growing desire - And the wolves are starving - he added before attacking her full, sweet lips.

Woman moaned softly, grabbing his hair as if her life depended on it, trying to pull him even closer. Even though she shouldn't.

Grabbing her tiny body, Snow pinned her to a nearby tree. Attacking her slender neck, he reveled in the sound of her whimpers and sighs, his large hands roaming her body, lower and lower.

Y/n watched his actions with eyes clouded with desire. She was afraid that someone would see them, she was afraid of punishment.

But they were alone among the trees in Godswood. The only witnesses were the old gods and themselves, no one else.

-Jon...we can't - she whispered weakly, not realizing how familiar this scenario was to her.

-All I want is to please you - he said tenderly, slowly rolling up the fabric of her dress, making her skin crawl with goosebumps - My sweet Y/n, let your wolf feast. I must feel you.

She fell helplessly onto the rough bark behind her. She wanted to say and do so much, but her body seemed to rebel against her, telling her to take whatever the predator was giving her between her thighs.

He was so gentle and agonizingly slow, kissing and sucking on her firm skin, leaving marks on his prey as he got closer and closer to where he wanted to attack so much.

Y/n quickly became numb. The amount of attention she was getting seemed to overwhelm her body, but even so, she didn't want the moment to ever end, not with Jon harassing her womanhood in such an addictive way.

She could compare him to a hungry wolf, by the fact with what fervor he devoured her femininity while choosing every single piece, not wanting to miss absolutely nothing.

She let the knot in her lower belly burst, spreading delicious and burning pleasure through her body, which constantly circulated through her veins through the tongue of a man who would not leave her, feasting on her even longer.

She felt her sanity trying desperately to break through the thick wall of pleasure and lust built by two dangerous predators that were using the little sheep inside it.

But she wanted them to be happy ,full. Even as they fought for her like ravenous wolves, and she just couldn't choose. Letting them both devour her.

[eurydycee]

Winter’s Thorn: chapter III

⚘ cregan stark x tyrell!OC

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format: series (ongoing) word count: ~ 4k warnings: women in westeros :( , not reread a/n: hello! The Kings Landing arc has ended with this chapter. The next arc will be their journey to the north where they spend time as betrothed

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“There had been decided that you—” Crayn began his confession, holding her hand steadfastly.

Until a voice interrupted them, causing both to turn their heads toward the intruder. “Good morning, I see that you have awakened. You had us both worried, brother.”

“Aah, good to see you too, Adlyn,” the knight responded with a tight smile, silently thanking the gods that his brother came at the right moment.

Adlyn turned to Euphemia while simultaneously letting his hand stroke her coral weaves, a gentle motion that sharply contrasted his demanding words, “You need to quit coddling your brother and return to court and the celebrations immediately.”

“You made us look incompetent. Just so you know, people get wounded and killed—it's part of the game, a fact you should be well aware of. I will not have you pulling stunts like rejecting your title as Queen of Beauty and Love.”

“He was mocking us—”

“He is a friend.”

“Is that what you tell yourself as you act like his lapdog?”

That made him snap, grabbing a fistful of her hair before yelling, “It is not your place to talk back to me or any man in the Keep. If I were to tell you to go back to Cregan and beg his forgiveness like a true lapdog, you will do so. I am responsible for you, and thus you will comply with my commands.”

He then let go of her and went back to a calmer version of himself.

“I expect you tonight to attend the ball in honor of the tournament winners and their assigned ladies. This is my command, and you shall obey it. Understood?”

Euphemia wanted to yell at him, to insult him, but all she could feel was pity. The death of their parents, his cursed inheritance, the near attempt on his life, and Crayn’s injury had turned him into an ugly man with an even uglier temper. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to obey. When her words failed her, her actions became her pillar, so she nodded obediently.

——————————

Upon her walk back to her chamber, Euphemia couldn't help but notice the hushed whispers shared between courtiers, servants, and guards as she passed them. She had truly underestimated the impact of her absence. Though the walk to her chambers cost mere minutes, it felt like it took an eternity to escape the malicious gossip swirling around her. Even upon reaching her chamber, she was plagued by the overwhelming number of tasks that still awaited her: promenading with her dear friend Cerelle of House Lannister, joining the court ladies for lunch, visiting the sept, getting her dress fitted for the ball, and engaging in endless talking and gossiping.

Just when she felt like losing her sanity, Cerelle entered her chambers to fetch her, like the heroine she is, for their promised time together. The golden-haired Lannister moved with the grace of a lioness, her presence commanding attention.

“There you are, Phia. How I have missed you,” Cerelle exclaimed, stretching her hands out for Euphemia to grasp.

“How have you been after… well, everything? Once our time here is over, you must return with me to Casterly Rock, like when we were children. I long to relive our days there as young maidens, even for one more day.”

“Sister,” Euphemia gazed at her friend with genuine affection. Cerelle had always been the older sister she had wished for, possessing great beauty, sharp intellect, and an uplifting nature. She grasped her hand firmly, thinking how fortunate she was not to face the cunning people of court alone.

“Oh, I am even more thrilled to see you. It has been far too long,” she replied, her smile warm and sincere.

“Court has been both boring and heated lately. With your return, I hope to find some company and to bring some peace to this place.” The two girls stood up, leaving the chamber and allowing their feet to decide their destination.

“Tell me,” said Cerelle, turning to look at her friend. “Have you truly insulted Lord Stark, The Hand, the man who essentially holds the Seven Kingdoms in his hand?” Cerelle had heard many rumors about what had transpired but preferred to hear it directly from her friend.

“If you put it that way, then I suppose I did,” Euphemia scoffed, feeling her anger rise once again. “But I felt wronged, being crowned with such a loving title  after what happened to my brother .”

“Whatever happened is in the past, you mustn’t let the blame fall on him. Show yourself as a devoted sister, the ever-dutiful nurse,” Cerelle warned sternly. 

Euphemia considered her words. It was indeed wiser not to speak ill of others, especially when she was still uncertain of her place in the court. She needed to present herself as a rose—opening her arms like petals and hiding her thorns beneath them.

The two friends walked through the castle's winding corridors, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. The scent of fresh flowers from the castle gardens wafted through the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread from the kitchens. Servants bowed as they passed, their eyes filled with curiosity and respect.

As they strolled, Cerelle shared stories of her time at Casterly Rock, her laughter like music to Euphemia’s ears. The memories of their carefree days as young maidens brought a sense of nostalgia, a brief respite from the burdens of court life.

—--------------------------------------------

As the evening approached, Euphemia stood in her chamber, surrounded by maids bustling about, preparing her for the ball. The scent of lavender and rose water filled the air as they brushed out her long, ginger-pink hair, pinning it up into an elaborate coiffure adorned with delicate pearls and golden filigree. A stunning gown of sage green silk, embroidered with golden thread, lay draped across a nearby chair, shimmering in the light of the setting sun.

Euphemia took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The whispers and stares she had endured throughout the day still lingered in her mind, casting a shadow over her thoughts.

“My lady, you look absolutely radiant,” her lady-in-waiting said, fixing the final pin in her hair.

“Thank you, Liora,” Euphemia replied with a soft smile. “It is beautiful work.”

Just as she began to relax, the door to her chamber opened, and Adlyn, strode in. He glanced around the room, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the scene, but there was a warmth in his gaze that belied his serious demeanor.

“Leave us,” he commanded the maids, who quickly curtsied and exited the room, leaving the siblings alone.

“Adlyn,” Euphemia began, but he cut her off with a firm raised hand.

“Euphemia, you must understand the importance of this night,” he said, his voice resolute. “Your return to court is not merely a personal matter. It is a matter of our family’s honor and standing. You must shut down these rumors and reassert your place in court.”

She sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “I know, Adlyn. But it’s not easy. The things they say…”

He stepped closer, his expression softening as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You are stronger than you realize, sister. You have always been a beacon of grace and dignity. And there is another matter. Your relationship with Cregan must be mended. The hand´s support is crucial.”

Euphemia’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Lord Stark is attending? I haven’t seen him all day. Where is he?”

“He has been working in his office, dealing with important matters of the realm.” he answered

Euphemia nodded slowly in agreement. “I will do what I must. But, Adlyn, you must promise me something.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”

“Promise me that we will find a way to honor our family without sacrificing your own or anyone else's happiness,” she said, her voice steady but pleading.

Adlyn’s stern demeanor softened further, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I promise, Euphemia. But first, you must attend the ball and show them all the strength and grace of our house.”

She nodded, her resolve strengthening. “I will, Adlyn.”

Adlyn's gaze softened even more as he looked at his sister, adorned in her splendid gown. “You look absolutely stunning, Euphemia. Your presence alone will silence many of those whispers. They cannot help but be captivated by your grace and beauty.”

Euphemia blushed slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you, Adlyn. Your words mean a great deal to me.”

With a final glance in the mirror, she left her chamber, ready to step into the ballroom and reclaim her place in the world she had once known so well.

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The ballroom was a dazzling display of opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the assembly of nobles, their rich attire creating a sea of vibrant colors and shimmering fabrics. Music filled the air, and the scent of roses and fine food wafted through the room. Lords and Ladies of many houses could be spotted introducing themselves and greeting the royal couple.

Euphemia descended the grand staircase holding her brother's arm, feeling eyes turn toward her. Whispers and murmurs rose as she made her entrance, but she held her head high, her expression serene.

They moved gracefully through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and smiles, determined to show no sign of the turmoil within. As they approached the throne where the king and queen were seated, they both did a deep bow to the couple. The young children of the royal couple returned a courtly nod, still visibly affected by the Dance that had impacted House Targaryen.

The winners of the tourneys were soon summoned, and they stepped forward to claim their appointed Queens of Love and Beauty. Each champion approached their chosen lady with a graceful bow, extending their hands to invite them for a dance. The room watched with bated breath as the tradition unfolded, the air thick with anticipation and admiration.

Euphemia stood at the edge of the gathering, observing the pageantry with a mixture of admiration and longing. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Cregan standing before her, his expression softened by a warm, earnest smile.

“Lady Tyrell,” he began, his voice steady and kind. “May I have this dance?”

She hesitated for a moment, memories of their previous discord lingering in her mind. But the sincerity in his eyes and the gentle strength of his presence reassured her. She placed her hand in his, and he led her to the center of the ballroom.

As they took their places, the musicians struck up a harmonious tune, and the dance began. Cregan guided her gracefully across the floor, their movements synchronized and fluid. The murmurs and whispers in her head faded into the background, leaving only the music and the rhythm of their steps.

“I owe you an apology,” Euphemia said softly as they danced. “I acted out of anger and grief, and I regret the rift it has caused between us.”

Cregan’s gaze softened, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I understand. These are difficult times for all of us. But we are stronger together, and I want to put this behind us.”

She nodded, a sense of relief washing over her. “Thank you, my Lord. Your support means more to me than you know.”

As they continued to dance, the court watched in awe. The once turbulent rumors seemed to dissipate, replaced by admiration for Euphemia’s grace and poise. 

The dance ended, and Cregan bowed deeply to her. Euphemia returned the gesture with a graceful curtsy, her heart lightened by the reconciliation. And as they parted, Cregan noticed the smirks and snickers of his friends.

“Your time here has turned you into a true southerner, my lord,” one of them commented, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Good thing we’re returning home on the morrow,” Cregan replied, trying to maintain his composure as he chugged his wine, hoping to calm his nerves.

“She really has you in her grasp, doesn’t she, son? I’ve never seen you visibly shiver like that,” Lord Mormont added, his voice low and mocking.

“Can’t blame the lad. Have you seen her? In that piece of silk she calls a dress, she’s a living torment. I saw her today at the sept, praying like a good, devoted follower, while she carries herself as the embodiment of a siren at night.”

“Why are you lusting after her like a starved dog? She already has a thing with the Lannister,” a third friend chimed in, giving his friend a harsh push.

“What?” Cregan’s voice was sharp, his eyes narrowing .

“She apparently lived her childhood there as a ward. While there was never a confirmed betrothal to Leonore, everyone knows he’ll be the one to take her as bride.”

Cregan’s blood began to boil. Losing her meant losing the treaty for the North. That sly fox of Highgarden had misled him. Cregan could not hope for any aid if the marriage pact was not honored, and he couldn't take revenge anymore by marching his army across Westeros and the Reach to cleanse the lands of remaining supporters of the usurper. Blinded by rage, Cregan marched to Adlyn, his steps heavy with purpose, requesting a private word. Adlyn followed, his face a mask of concern, praying it had nothing to do with whatever his sister might have said.

“You liar,” Cregan hissed, his voice low but venomous.

“My lord?” Adlyn replied, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“The betrothal. With the Lannister,” 

“What? No, you misunderstand—” Adlyn began, but Cregan cut him off.

“You take me for a fool? You think you can just break your word to me and get away with it? I let you off the hook the first time, but now it is war.”

“What do you mean by bethroting the Lannister? If that is what you want with yourself, you can just go and ask Tyland and leave me be. I have little influence there, friend,” Adlyn said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his unease.

Cregan’s hands itched to lash out at Adlyn´s fake innocence, to punch that pretty face, to burn his lands, to take his sister as a war prize, but he restrained himself, opting to finish this fight with the same fire the southerners played with.

“You lied to me about your sister’s hand. She is already set to marry the heir of Casterly Rock.”

“Leonore? No, no. I mean, Father intended for it, and I suppose if I hadn’t promised her to you, I would have given her to him, but there was no actual promise made to them. Cregan, she is yours, just as we discussed,” Adlyn said, his voice earnest, his eyes wide with sincerity.

“Then why do people still spread rumors of them?” Cregan demanded, his voice rising.

“This is court. People love to spark fights they can’t extinguish. Besides except for us and Crayn, there really isn’t anyone I have told,” Adlyn replied, his voice calming, hoping to soothe Cregan’s anger.

“She doesn’t know?” Cregan asked, his voice now quieter, but still tinged with anger.

“I wanted to tell her, believe me, but I feared making her upset. While a marriage with the house Stark is an honor, I suppose she preferred a marriage that wouldn’t drift her far from home. That’s why Father was keen on marrying her to the Lannister. She was a ward there, her dearest companion is his sister, and she and Leonore get along. It might have been a marriage filled with love.” he explained 

“Are you implying that I am responsible for an upcoming ruin in her life?” Cregan’s voice was low, dangerous.

“Possibly. But a marriage with Leonore would only serve her. I might have allowed that if I had many others in my house to make use of, but I don’t. My child is unborn, my brother is already married to the Hightower to keep Old Town under supervision. So, it is on her to do her part in serving our house and the realm,” Adlyn said, his voice firm but not unkind.

“What of the Lannisters?” Cregan asked, his voice softer now.

“They love her whether she is married to them or not, and therefore they love us. Furthermore, she’ll prevent bloodshed in their lands, so I think they owe her gratitude,” Adlyn explained, his voice calming, trying to diffuse the tension.

“So, when will you announce it? Our betrothal?” Cregan asked, his voice steady but demanding.

“I was hoping to depart with you to the North for the Great Harvest festival before the winter and announce it there. The later she knows, the easier she’ll accept it,” Adlyn replied, his voice steady but his eyes once again betraying his concern.

“I don’t care about you protecting your relationship with her. I want it announced tonight in front of everyone, or I’ll have His Grace announce it in your stead,” Cregan smirked, turning on his heel and leaving Adlyn with no chance to protest.

 —----------------------------------------------------

The grand hall was filled with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses as the nobility of the kingdom gathered for the annual midsummer feast. Tapestries adorned the walls, and chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the assembled guests. Adlyn, standing at the head of the room, tapped his glass with a silver spoon, the chime drawing the room to a hushed silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Adlyn began, his voice carrying with the authority and ease of one accustomed to command. "I have an announcement of great importance to make this evening."

Euphemia, standing beside him, smiled politely, unaware of the storm about to break over her head. Her delicate fingers played with the edge of her gown, her mind wandering to the music and laughter echoing through the hall.

"Tonight," Adlyn continued, his eyes scanning the crowd before resting on Euphemia, "I am pleased to announce the betrothal of the Lord Hand Cregan Stark and the Lady Euphemia Tyrell."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. The hall erupted into applause and cheers, but Euphemia stood frozen, her smile faltering only for a moment. Inside, her heart raced and her mind struggled to process the shock, but she quickly composed herself, maintaining a calm and graceful facade.

Adlyn leaned in, whispering, "It is for the best, Euphemia. Please, trust me."

Euphemia's lips curved into a faint, practiced smile. She nodded subtly, acknowledging the congratulations of those around her, while a tempest of emotions churned within. Hurt, betrayal, and confusion welled up, but she swallowed it all, determined to uphold the decorum expected of her.

Cregan, who had been standing quietly by, looked at her with a mixture of triumph and concern. He reached for her hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Euphemia," he said softly, "this union will strengthen our families and our kingdom. It is an honor."

Euphemia's eyes met his, her smile never wavering. "Of course, my Lord. I am... honored." Her voice was steady, though her heart was not.

The room's atmosphere remained jubilant, the guests blissfully unaware of the turmoil beneath Euphemia's composed exterior. She moved through the throng of well-wishers, accepting their congratulations with grace, while her thoughts spiraled inward.

"How could they decide this without me?" she pondered silently, her heart aching. "How could they assume I would agree without even asking?"

Her inner turmoil was a stark contrast to the celebratory air of the evening. The weight of the decision made on her behalf pressed heavily on her, but she knew better than to show discontent.

As the feast continued, Euphemia found a quiet moment to herself, stepping out onto a balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens. The cool night air was a balm to her heated thoughts.

Adlyn approached her, his expression softening. "Euphemia," he said gently, "I know this is sudden, but it is for the greater good."

Euphemia turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You could have asked me, Adlyn. You could have considered my feelings."

"I thought you would understand," Adlyn replied, his voice tinged with regret.

"I understand duty," Euphemia said quietly, "but I also understand respect. I wish you had shown me that."

With that, she turned back to the gardens, her calm exterior belying the storm within. She knew she would face the future and move on , but the wound of this night would not soon heal. 

For the rest of the night, Euphemia played her part perfectly, expressing her contentment with the marriage and sharing dances with Cregan that were all but stiff and cold. Each step was measured, each smile a mask. She even found a moment to approach the Lannisters, offering her apologies for any perceived slights and successfully earning their forgiveness. 

When the ball finally drew to a close, Euphemia excused herself, her facade cracking as soon as she was out of sight. She fled back to her chambers, the tears she had held back all evening finally spilling over. She collapsed onto the floor, weeping into the plush carpet, the weight of the night's betrayal too much to bear.

It wasn't until her lady-in-waiting, Liora, found her that she stirred. Liora gently helped her out of her uncomfortable gown and into bed. "My lady," Liora whispered, her voice full of concern, "you must rest."

Euphemia nodded weakly, her tears subsiding as exhaustion took over. "Thank you, Liora," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

As she finally drifted off to sleep, Euphemia clung to the hope that tomorrow would bring clarity, even as the pain of betrayal lingered in her heart.

Euphemia's sleep was sadly cut short by a harsh knock at her chamber door. Groggy and disoriented, she whispered for her guard, Ser Wayne, but received no answer. With trepidation, she stood and opened the door, only to find Cregan standing before her.

Cregan's gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in her swollen eyes, a clear indication of her grief, and her nightgown, which left her in a somewhat indecent state. He quickly turned his back to her before speaking.

"The king wishes to see you," he said curtly. "The young man cannot seem to fall asleep. He has been plagued by nightmares," I assume. 

"And what can I offer my lord?" she asked curiously, fearing that the king wished for her to warm his bed

"Your singing," he replied, "I thought that might sedate him."

"Of course," she continued, relieved, "please allow me to fetch a proper gown and a chaperone."

"You think I will allow anyone else to witness the king in this state?" Cregan yelled quietly, turning back to her, taking off his coat and handing it to her. "You must come alone and now."

Euphemia hesitated but knew better than to argue. She took the coat and draped it over herself, its warmth providing little comfort but enough decency. As soon as she was covered, Cregan grabbed her wrist and led her through the dimly lit halls.

The journey felt interminable, each echoing step amplifying her anxiety. She struggled to keep pace with Cregan's brisk stride, her mind racing with worry of being caught and having her virtue but to question 

Finally, they reached the king's chambers. Cregan paused outside the door, his grip on her wrist loosening slightly. "Do your best to calm him," he instructed, his tone softer now. "The king needs his rest,"

Euphemia nodded, her heart aching with the sight of the troubled child. She gently stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. The young king was huddled alone on the large bed, eyes wide with fear.

"Mother," the king's weary voice called from a nearby chair, his face etched with concern, mistaking her for his dead mother. "I miss you mommy."

Euphemia gave a small, respectful bow before approaching the bed. She sat down on the edge, cradling the boy and began to hum a soothing lullaby, her voice soft and melodic. The child's tense body began to relax, his eyes growing heavy as her song filled the room.

As she sang, Cregan felt a surge of tenderness. Despite having outgrown his childhood, Cregan felt yearning for joining them and laying his head on her tender breasts.

When the song ended, the king was sound asleep, their nightmares banished for the night. Euphemia stood and turned to the Cregan, who snapped from his absurd thoughts and gave her a grateful nod.

"Thank you, Lady Euphemia," he whispered. "You have done us all a great service."

With a final nod, Euphemia quietly left the room, Cregan followed her just outside, grabbed her wrist once again and escorted her back to her chambers, neither of them speaking a word. As they reached her door, he finally broke the silence.

"You did well tonight," he said, his voice devoid of its usual sternness.

Euphemia merely nodded, too exhausted to respond. She slipped back into her room, closing the door softly behind her. Alone once more, she allowed herself a quiet reflection before finally succumbing to sleep, hoping for a respite from the day's emotional upheaval.

[countrymusiclover]

Ch 38 - The Lannister Heirs

Part 39

Fire OF A Stark

@dragonixfrye

Jaime and I had been living at the rock for awhile now. Strolling the hallways of the vast castle I was on my own for entertainment since he was now in charge of the Lannister army. They were needing to get a new sense of the new lord of the Rock. There was a thought that wouldn't stop crossing my mind and it was Sansa. She was forced to remain in King's Landing. I desperately wanted her here by my side and away from Cersei and Joffrey. Footsteps came down the hallway where someone put their hand over my eyes. "Jaime, what are you doing?" Seeing it was the golden hand I gently pushed it down turning to face him.

"Looking for my dragon wife. My war meeting ended early at my request. Since I would rather be spending time with you." He explained wrapping his arms around my tugging me into his warm embrace.

He was wearing a golden tunic and trousers that almost matched what he wore the day he fought my father Ned in the streets of the city. He had even left his hair to grow out a little longer after I had told him I preferred it a little longer. "Well I am glad because I am not permitted by the Maester to do anything really. It gets rather boring just roaming the hallways all day."

"I aim to change that, Lynesse. Come with me." He offers his hand, staring down at my choices of clothing. I hadn’t worn many of the Lannister dresses unless we were meeting with the members of his household. Otherwise he would find me wearing his tunics and other things. Even with my growing belly I still managed to have my sword with me.

He tugged me by the arm leading me down a section of stairs I wasn't familiar with. We had to go up quite a few more large staircases before we came to a stop outside a large red door. He pushed it open revealing a large tower room with multiple open windows to gaze out from. Walking forward I could recall the rumors that they said about the Rock. One late Lannister that had died years before our time had said that on a good day you could see all the way across and see nothing but clear waters before you. "So the tales were true about this tower. It's beautiful, like our own little island away from the rest of the Seven kingdoms."

"I thought you would like it. I have also been talking with the castle builders to see if we can make a platform for Joanna since she can't very well fit in the walls." He responded back wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

Turning around in his arms I leaned up on my toes kissing him softly. "I always thought I would dislike my new home that I would be forced into. Yet I was wrong I love it here with you."

"There's nowhere else I would have rather heard you say that, Lynesse. You will always be my Lady Lannister regardless of you being a dragon-wolf." Jaime leaned down, capturing my lips with his, making me grin.

A few months after Battle of White Walkers

"Seven hells…Jaime!" I screamed clutching the bedsheets in my fingers making my knuckles turn white almost. He was standing beside me with my handmaiden on the other side. I bared my teeth down pushing longer than I cared for. We were finally having our second child after the battle at Winterfell.

My white hair was sticking to my forehead where I threw my head back crying. My sister Sansa was now to be declared Queen in the North and she was talking with me about what should be done. Rhaenyra was tended to by another lady in waiting and Maxon since we both trusted they would look out for her. Blinking through tears of my own I could still make out that Jaime was terrified for me because he was crying himself. "Lynesse, you…you can do this…"

"Oh geez…argh!" I cried hearing the midwife instructing me.

"Just a few more big pushes, Lady Lannister."

Clutching my hands into fists as tightly as possible I closed my eyes shut. Pushing as much as I could two or three times we finally heard a baby cry. The midwife caught the baby while I collapsed back onto the pillows. "You did good, Lynesse." The handmaiden Bridget wiped away sweat from my forehead with a cloth.

Jaime had convinced me to take on a lady to help me since he was rather busy when we returned from Winterfell. She became a very close friend when I learned that we were to have our second child. "My lord. My lady, congratulations it is a boy. You have an heir." The older woman declared wrapping the little babe in a red and golden blanket.

"Oh sweet boy.." I whispered when she placed the babe in my lap once I had shifted into a sitting upright position in the bed.

Jaime sat on the edge of the bed pushing hair behind my face, dropping his gaze downward onto his firstborn son. I didn't have a preference of what our next child would be. Jaime and I had agreed that no matter what Rhaenyra would be heir to Casterly Rock. "I have a son…I have a son." He muttered repeatedly for a few seconds. He could never claim that Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella were his. He told me that Cersei had claimed them as only hers alone.

"Have you chosen a name, Lady Lynesse?" Bridget was standing beside the window watching us while the other attendees were fixing the room trying to make it more presentable.

Turning my head in the direction of my husband we locked eyes letting silence fill the room. His blonde hair had grown longer but he didn't have it as long as when we first met in Winterfell. He placed his left hand on mine, staring closely at the baby. "You choose, little dragon."

"I think he should be…Eddard Lannister." The baby boy had bright blonde hair like his father but he has my eye color. The baby lifted his hands so I gave him my finger where he attempted to grip it as tightly as he could making me grin brightly.

The chamber door opened with the handmaiden carrying Rhaenyra in her arms and a sealed letter appeared also. She curtsied to the two of us handing the scroll over to my husband. "My lord my lady, a raven from King's Landing. It appears to be from Jon Snow."

"I'll take the lioness from you Chloe." Bridget walked over, sending the other girl off.

Jaime tears open the letter unfolding the piece of paper. "Dear sister, I am writing to inform you and your lord husband that we have defeated Cersei. But we also had to remove Daenerys from power, she has burned the city just like her father. I am here to say I won't be placing myself on the Iron Throne. It is yours if you wish. I am just informing you that there is a small council meeting in a few days with the remaining lords and ladies of Westeros."

"Jaime I…I'm sorry." I attempted to say knowing that it would be hard for him to accept that his twin sister was dead. She was his first love and meant everything to him.

He crumpled the letter in his left hand a little, dropping it on the ground. His green eyes were welling with heavy tears. I had never seen him cry except for the night we reunited after the battle against the army of the dead. "Bridget, could you watch the children for a while…" He muttered under his breath.

"Of course, my lord." She bowed her head picking up Eddard and carrying him in one arm and Rhaenyra in the other.

Shifting in the bed I reached forward grabbing his hand making him meet my gaze. "Jaime…" I was only able to say his name before he climbed in the bed beside me. He laid his head in my lap crying heavily.

"She…she’s gone. I…I'm sorry I shouldn't be crying to you…" He started to apologize until I tilted his chin up so he would look me in the eye.

“Jaime, you don’t have to apologize for crying over her. She was your sister and your twin. I don’t expect you to act tough about this. Just cry if you need to. You don’t have to be a strong soldier all the time, not around me.” I declare wiping away the tears that were falling down his face. Running one hand through his hair he buried his face into my chest.

He sniffed and gripped onto my tunic shirt just crying for a few hours. I may not like Cersei but she was his sister after all. It would be like when I learned that Robb, Rickon and my adopted parents were dead. “Thank you…Lynesse.”

It took us a few hours to get ready and the trip back to King's Landing was very long. Jaime was wearing his tan leather tunics and trousers with his sword clipped to his side. I had my white hair completely loose wearing a red dress and some black combat riding boots. I also had attached my sword back to my belt carrying Eddard in my arms. Jaime did his best to carry Rhaenyra until we entered the castle being greeted by Tyrion. “Jaime. Lynesse, I hope the trip wasn’t too bad. Oh and I see we finally have a boy dragon infant.”

“Yes. My brother in law Tyrion, I'd like you to meet your nephew Eddard Lannister.” I held the infant boy up with a bright smile before I noticed one of Danny’s men walking up and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why is he here?”

The soldier responded sternly, leading us into a small set of chairs outside of the castle. “He is our prisoner after he told Jon Snow to excite our queen. Follow me now.” Everyone was sitting around in a circle where I saw that they had two open chairs that were meant for Jaime and I.

“Jon committed his crime here. His fate is for our king to decide. Or our queen.” Tyrion glanced around at all of us with me and Jaime each holding a baby in our laps.

A random lord I didn’t remember responded back. “We don't have a king or queen.”

“You're the most powerful people in Westeros. Choose one.” Tyrion points out meeting my gaze softly as if he was trying to tell me to step up.

“My lords and ladies... I suppose this is the most important moment of our lives. What we decide today will reverberate through the annals of history. I stand before you as one of the senior lords in the country. A veteran of two wars. And I like to think my experience has led to some small skill in statecraft and underst--“

Sansa cut her uncle off, clearly not agreeing that it should be him. “Uncle? Please sit.”

“Well, we have to choose someone.” An older lord declares where I leaned back in my chair. I had no real intention of putting the idea of me on the throne out there. I may have dragon blood but I wasn’t raised to be a queen.

Baby Eddard started fussing where Jaime let him suck on his thumb making me smile before I noticed Arya reach into her pocket drawing the crown of Rhaenyra that I had accidentally forgotten back in Winterfell. “Cadence - uh sorry Lynesse. You left this back home.”

“Thank you, sis.” I take it from her hand’s holding it with my freehand.

Sansa suddenly spoke up, making me whip my head around in shock at her. “Lynesse, you should wear the crown. You are after all the last living Targaryen and raised as an honorable Stark child.”

“Sansa I…” I couldn’t finish my thoughts, unsure of what to say.

Tyrion and Jaime both declared together making me get a little embarrassed. I valued their opinions but it wasn’t theirs that scared me the most. “Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister for queen.”

Whipping my head to the youngest Stark girl she got to her feet standing before me and her brother Bran sitting in his wheelchair since Jaime was on my right side. “Lynesse, I say aye.”

“Will you wear the crown, Lynesse. If we were to choose you…or even if we choose someone else, would you stand by their side and sit on your rightful place on the Iron Throne?” Tyrion slowly walked up to me making his handcuffs squeak. His green eyes shifting from his brother and over our two children.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Hopefully I can write two more chapters like I hope before I complete this story

[lchufflepuffcorn]

A crown of roots and ice pt.5 A Bran Stark x Reader imagine

Warning: This gif is not mine, it belongs to its owner/creator. Possible triggers: Pregnancy, loss of a child, depression (light mention) angst, motherhood, dark-haired/dark-eyed reader (otherwise not discussed) Female oriented reader (heavily), mention of medieval rape (prior chapters). Birth (not graphic but heavily discussed).

Word count: 1109

Author's note: This fanfiction about Bran the Builder started from an obscure theory that he was also a green seer or linked with whatever Bran Stark we know is...

Masterlist OG Writing Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue.

What is dead may never die

Bran was gone, once more to oversee the finishing of the farther North Wall, leaving (Y\N) with his heir, Brandon -or Brin, as his mother preferred it- and another fast-growing in her belly. Much to the lady’s disappointment. But the wall, Bran had said, ‘the wall needed to be finished so peace would reign and winter perish.’ 

Whatever that meant. 

Lady (Y\N) was sitting outside in the gardens, near the Godswood, with heavy furs on her shoulders and a worried smirk on her face. She was currently mildly listening to Lady Webber while watching her two years old wobble his way toward the whitebarked tree.  At nearly seven and ten years of age and still, the faces carved into the trees were still making her nervous. She knew that her friends would never hurt her child, but she didn’t trust her lord husband's gods to be as protecting. She knew full well that her own God was not the paternal type. 

Swaying gently under the winds, eyes carefully following Brin as he wandered around and ears somewhat listening to her lady friend and her troubles of the week, (Y/N) rests a hand on her forever-growing belly, where a healthy babe is making trouble. Fighting whatever internal adversary it imagines it has. The woman hopes for a girl this time, even if she knows Bran demands another son. 

So to secure his legacy. 

So the Stark family name doesn’t perish if Brin dies too young. The North is not merciful to anyone, her husband once told her. It had been a terrible night when he’d told her, she’d just lost her second babe, it was too early to tell if it had been a little boy or if it’d been a girl, the maester had said. And even if (Y/N) had cried her loss, she was glad -she’d confess to it later, in the cover of her tower’s shadow- Brin was only six months old, and she wasn’t ready for another one yet. Brandon had promised her they’d try to have another one as soon as she felt better. Even now she didn’t know if she felt better. After all, she’d lost a part of herself to that day. 

Her husband had grown even more tender than he’d already been after this event, as if she was made of glass, of something other, precious and breakable. (Y/N) wasn't all too sure she liked it. She was a Saltcliffe’s daughter, far from being easily breakable and fragile. It was still nicer to feel soft touches over rough caress in the nights that followed the incident and survived even after the joyous moment her pregnancy gave. 

“Sit, Nagga!” 

Watching Brin trying to teach the puppy his father had gifted him ‘to protect the castle and your mother’, he’d told him, was a refreshing sight, while in front of the blood-coloured leaves of God’s wood. The boy, to his father's distress, had named his direwolf like the sea monster from (Y/N)’s stories. 

“What will you name it, My Lady?” Asked Lady Webber suddenly, pulling (Y/N) from her thoughts. She rubbed her belly through her heavy dress, thoughtful for a moment before responding. 

“I like Aeron or Walton, for a little boy, and Mirria, for a girl.” She said finally. If Bran allowed it, that thought she didn’t say to lady Webber. 

(Y/N) still hadn’t talked names to her husband, the last time she had, her baby -not much bigger than a shrimp- had died. She couldn’t bare to give her future infant the name of a dead babe, and so, the name of her mother’s father, Mors, she would not use. The lady felt that if she named them, they’d die. And if this was their fate, it was better for Bran to name them. 

She was nearly ready to give birth when Bran came back from the Wall. Since Brin, he didn’t miss any birth, especially not the second one, when it wasn’t even a babe yet. He’d said that a child old of a month without a name was a disgrace on his part. An unnamed child buried would bring infinite bad luck to his family name. Thus, they’d named the shrimp before tossing it into the cave. 

(Y/N)’s Lord Husband would mostly care for her like he would a glass sculpture, making sure no stairs were laborious, of treacherously tripping her (??) or that she had more than enough furs to cover her at any time during any hour of the day. Soft hands graze her figure as Bran walks passed her in the cold halls, sweet kisses on the crown of her head and more food appearing on her plate. All things (Y/N) had to learn to appreciate since she’d given birth. Marriage was so bad after all. 

It was a hot night when Bran when himself in search of the maester. And against every recommendation, Bran was in the room during the birth of his second child. He was the one to place the wet rag over his wife’s forehead and held her hand as she pushed. Kissed her and mumbled encouraging words in her hair when she cried her exhaustion and pleaded for everything to stop. 

It lasted hours. Longer even than it did for Brin. And Bran even probed his wife against his chest, to provide as much help as he could. Murmurs of praise and kind words, comforting hands rubbing her arms at best he could lure her into continuing. 

(Y/N)’s head was hidden in her husband’s neck, whining, empty of any energy she’d had when finally a cry echoed in the room, and she too started crying again. She didn’t even have the strength to raise her arms to take her babe when the maester offered. 

“It’s a boy, my lord,” He said, giving the child to Bran, who took the bundle of furs and soft linen in his free arm, to bring him closer to his wife’s chest. A servant had taken it upon herself to disrobe her, helping to put the child on her chest so he could latch on her breast at last. 

“Jeor��� Was all Bran said in her ear. 

“Aeron” counter-offered (Y/N) in a breathless whisper, nuzzling against his cheek while watching her son with tired eyes.  

A sigh left her husband, but the soft touch of his hand removing her hair from her sweat-drenched neck showed he wasn’t annoyed with her stubbornness. “You will call him what you like, but I, and all of this kingdom, will know him as Jeor Stark.” 

‘Very well, my lord.” Was the lady’s answer. 

“Very well, my love.” called the lord back. 

Taglist: @aegonslover

[devilsjacket]

Gotta send in those HoTD and GoT requests, already got 1 and I’m buzzing whilst writing it lmao :)

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf

Prologue

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,115

CW: angst, death and more death. not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n prolouge, more of an info dump about dance of dragons and readers relationship with cregan during the war.

As snow blazed outside the castle your mind took you back to the days before your life was consumed with grief, the days when you have just arrived in Winterfell, sent by your mother to win over Cregan stark to support her cause.

You had been surprised your mother had sent you here and not the Vale, as she had done with your twin Jacearys. But you soon saw why.

It had been easy to convince Stark to join you’re the blacks, as they were now referred too, he was the noble and honourable lord stark, he kept his father’s oath with no complaints, and he allowed you to stay in Winterfell for as long as she wished. And you did stay, you liked the north, it gave you such a warm feeling, a feeling you had always felt you missed in the red keep and Dragonstone. You loved the north, you loved the snow, as did your dragon, Silverwing. You spent your whole life either in hot son or rainy storms, and yet, despite Cregan saying you were so warm it was if you your self was a dragon, you had always preferred the cold. And now when you felt the drops of snow fall onto your face you wished for the snow to never stop.

You remember Cregan showing you around Winterfell for the first time, taking you to the gods woods, he himself, as most in the north were, prayed to the old gods, and you who never once felt a calling to the gods, you felt it the second you entered the woods, the way the winds sang to you as you entered, the hot springs warming you instantly, and the gods tree. Despite having one in kings landing this sight was spectacular, it was so…peculiar and yet beautiful. With faces carved so naturally the faces seemed to move with he wordless song the wind sang you, and from the look on Cregan’s face he knew the exact feeling you were experiencing.

He was so welcoming to you, sending you smiles at every glance, looking for you in every room. You spent nearly every second together, whether it was talking politics and the facts of the alliance or hunting or walking the grounds. You seemed to do it together.

But you knew it was to good to be true, the second you heard Silverwing calling out, sensing another dragons presence, you knew only bad news would follow.

“Sister” you heard Jacearys greet as he dismounted Vermax, “Lord Stark” he bowed his head.

“Brother” you greeted back, “what brings you to the north?”

His face dropped, eyes filling with sadness. “I’m so sorry, I should have come sooner”

“what-“you didn’t understand what he was saying, but you knew it was bad, and it seemed so did the gods as the wind was growing hasher, wind aggressively hitting your face.

“Luke-“ Jace croaked, and your face started to drop “Aemond he…Luke’s dead”

You dropped, eyes filling with tears. You couldn’t believe it.

Aemond. He had once been your Aemond, your dearest companion, your betrothed. But then word had reached about his new betrothal to Floris Baratheon. Your marriage was supposed to unit the realm, prevent the war that would now be inevitable. You had felt some sadness over the news of his new betrothal, but in truth you hadn’t been close to him in years, you loved the idea of marrying him, but now…now the thought made you sick.

Jace had explained fully what had happened, the raging storm, the chase and the fall.

Killed riding a dragon, like a Targaryen, and buried at sea like a Veleryon, had it not been so tragic, it would be almost poetic.

Grief filled you, body and soul, and you hated that you didn’t know, for two weeks you lived in bliss, practically courting a man. As your brother, your sweet Luke lied dead and alone.

Your mother had searched the sea for those two weeks for the body, for hope that he lived, before biding Jace to retrieve you. You all needed each other, more than ever, consumed with grief and the rage.  The grieving came first like all deaths, with the funeral taking place, though with no body you and Jace had burnt his clothes, saying teary prays, before having Lukes favourite food and sharing his favourite memories.

And then rage. You all wanted revenge, and Daemon had taken it upon himself to do just that, and before you knew it war raged.

You and Jace had returned to Winterfell, and though both deep in your grief, you found comfort once more in the snowy planes of Winterfell, and most of all the people within them.

It was funny, you and Cregan had fit so well together and then Jace came along and suddenly you felt replaced.

All the time you had once spent with Cregan, sword fighting, politicking, hunting and walking, was now done with Jace.

You supposed it was natural, he the future king and Cregan the warden of the north. But it was more than that, they were brothers. But you were his future wife, your mother having sent a raven to lord stark upon your return proposing the marriage, he had accepted instantly and you, you had accepted. Cregan was everything you wanted, a friend, handsome, ruggish and tall. But now you felt like you were begin ignored.

You weren’t jealous, it was what always happened.

You were shy and calm, Jace was loud and chaotic. They were opposites and he easily took the spotlight, not that she wanted it. They were twins, with him being born first, with black hair and brown eyes, and you with silver hair and Arryn blue eyes. You were the image of their mother and he, the image of their father, not that they would ever admit it.  It was like he was the moon, and you were the sun. You were always there and nothing special, but people always took notice of the moon, every aspect of it was studied and praised, but the sun was only ever important when eclipsed by the moon. You were always by Jace’s side, and despite being a princess of the realm, he was a prince, the future king, who wouldn’t take notice of him first.

So, you stood on the sidelines, sometimes following the pair as they talked and talked, but most of her time was spent with Sara.

You and her too had a lot in common, having both understood what it was to be a bastard, to be left out. Though you didn’t admit it right out, she knew what you meant, from the way you understood her as she ranted and from how you related through your own experiences. Though they were different you were still outcasted and felt as if you lacked the natural respect others were given.

Though she had earnt that respect. she was respected throughout Winterfell, being the unofficial lady of Winterfell after the death of his wife, Arra Norrey, who died birthing their son, who was quick to follow his mother. The people of the north respected her but with you, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen you always felt as if you owed something, something that you had to make up for. And instead of seeing the respect you did command you only saw the respect your brother was given

That respect for Jace only grew as the first battles were fought. As Jace grew into his position as heir and Cregan became a key advisor in the war.

It was a weird and terrorfying time, with you and Cregan betrothed but knew it would either end in death or a quick marriage. Neither of you knew how to act,, the days of your endless conversations changing to shy smiles and even shyer words.

And then he left, leading his own battle in your mother’s name.

Then Jacearys died alongside Viserys, them both joining Luke in their burial at sea.

And moons later her mother took Kings Landing. Her younger brother Joffrey now heir, but not even a moon into her mothers new reign as an uprising began, the dragon pit raided, dragons killed, and her brother tortured a killed.

you were beside herself in grief, guilt coursing through you as you had left, you had gone, leading your mother’s forces to lead your second battle of Tumbleton, and though you had won, and caused the death of your uncle Daeron and a large number of the green forces, you returned to even more chaos.

you were surrounded by death, and slowly became more and more alone.

As Aegon retook Kings Landing, his men holding you and your only surviving sibling Aegon as her mother was burnt alive before them.

Then the death if both Aemond and Daemon above the gods eye.

You were all alone, separated from your brother, Cregan thousands of miles away. And she locked in a keep waiting for Aegon to decide whether to kill you or marry you.

you prayed for the former, wishing to join them, your sweet brothers.

Jace, your sweet twin, you had always thought they would leave the world together, they came in it together it only seemed right. you had felt so empty, as if you were missing the other half of yourself. you regretted that so many of your memories of him were clouded in envy, and regretted not cherishing every moment you could with him.

Luke, sweet Luke, so kind and nervous and though not innocent, he deserved so much better. you missed him so much, and hated how he was taken so young, so horrifyingly.

And Joffrey, he was just a babe, wanting to be as brave and strong as his sister and brothers, killed by the mob, alongside their mother’s dear dragon who was doing everything to protect him.

And Viserys, a part of you hoped he lived and would one day return to her, but you didn’t want to hope, you didn’t have it in you anymore.

you had nothing, not really, you barely had it in you, the anger, the need for revenge.

But when Aegon announced his plans to marry you, the rage came, the angry. He had taken everything from you and now he was taking away your freedom.

It was easy to find those who wished to plot against him, your grandsire Corlys begin the first to approach you. Mad over the death of his beloved wife Rhaenys, he had long awaited this moment.

He and a few over men gave you a wine laced with poison, and small doss of poison to drink yourself to build immunity. It was a long prosses, taking three months before you acted. It was easy to enter his chambers, he too lonely and racked with guilt, he seemed pleased at your company, and even happier at the wine you brought him.

You had drank the laced wine and then some, both drinking your sorrows away and making your way down to the iron throne, you had laughed as he sat upon it, your mothers rightful seat, and laughed even more when he started chocking, he couldn’t breath, he was dying. You should of felt glad but as you watched him take his final breath, all you felt was grief. Another family member dead, and another step closer to being alone.

Cregan took kings landing the next day, he found you weeping in the throne room at the sight of Aegon. He had swept you in his arms, holding him to you as you cried, screaming it was your fault, confessing your sins, but he didn’t see it as your fault, m your kill. He saw it as Corlys and Larys Strongs, executing them and all those who betrayed Aegon and manipulated you.

He crowned Aegon king, married him to Aegon’s only surviving child, Jaehrea, uniting the two branches and ending the blasted war.

And he took you home, to Winterfell.

You were so consumed in your grief you hadn’t even noticed, the carriage traveling the whole thousand leagues had passed so quickly.

You didn’t even remember saying goodbye, promising to write, and promising to love them.

You didn’t remember crying as you watched them, two children making oaths they didn’t understand, lead by men they did not know.

You finally came back to reality as you reached Winterfell, Silverwing roar alerting you of your arrival. She one of the last dragons left, too consumed in grief at the death of her mate Vermithor.

“princess” you heard Cregan say softly as he opened the carriage door, “were home”

next part

Taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog@apollonshootafar@zillahvathek@flrboyd @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17@leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99 @deeeeexx

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[pelova4president]

Fuck you, stargirl

Victoria Pelova x Reader

summary~ You’ve played with Victoria for aslong as you remembered, she was always faster, more technical and had so much more talent. It was hard to love her but harder to hate her.

Victoria was a different player, someone you couldn’t not notice on the field. Victoria Pelova was something different, outstanding. She amazes you, every time. She was kind, funny and an absolute baller. You’d hate to admit it but she was one of the greatest and that’s why she bothers you so much. She has everything and you’d never be like her. You’re not as funny or social as her, not as technical or fast either.

From the moment you met Vic, she has been nothing but kind to you. The two of you had gotten along at Concordia, your childhood club but then you into jong oranje. Playing at national level was something.. different. It was more competitive, everyone wanted that starting spot on the team.

After your first international break you and Victoria got back to the club, playing with the boys. The brunette had a starting spot for all four games, you only got subbed on in two games and around the 60th minute.

Vic was a good friend, someone you thought deserved everything she got. She got noticed and you loved that for her. It just stung a bit. The coach liked her more, the team liked her more and the fans liked her more.

When Victoria asked you to bike home with her after training you accepted. You’ve always biked home together and she’d tell you about her day but today she just couldn’t stop talking about National Camp and how it felt to score her first goal. Yeah, she scored her first goal on her debut.

“Het was geweldig, ik heb echt nog nooit zoiets gevoeld. Stel je voor hoe het zal voelen als we straks op een EK staan.” (It’s amazing, i have never felt something like it. Imagine how it will feel when we’re at the Euros.) she yelled enthusiastically. She was looking at the future like it was written in the stars, she was so sure of it all. “Vic over een paar jaar sta je zelf in het WK, het winnende doelpunt the scoren.” (Vic in a few years you’ll be at the World Cup, scoring the winning goal yourself.) I smiled at her. She frowned at what you said, ‘you’ll be at the World Cup’? “Wij gaan over een paar jaar naar het WK waar jij een tackle maakt die ons team zal redden.” (We are going to the World Cup in a few years where you’ll make a tackle that’ll save the team) Victoria grinned. You gave her a halfhearted smile and said your bye’s, disappearing behind the corner you turned left at.

When you got scouted by ADO Den Haag a few weeks later you were surprised to say the least. Their scout approached you after a game where you got a starting spot and played well. He told you about the procedures and what they would be asking of you. Later that week you had a talk with the coach and both of your parents. It was official, you were finally making moves into the professional football world.

When you biked home from training after a hard session, you finally told the brunette. You’ve been torturing your bottom lip for about an hour now, chewing on it like it was gum. How could you even tell her this, she should be the one making a move like this.

Vic was talking your ear off like always when you cut her off. “Vic, ik ben gescout door ADO. I kon geen nee zeggen, ik weet dat we samen zouden gaan maar ik moest. Het spijt me.” (Vic, i got scouted by ADO. I couldn’t say no, i know that we would go together but i had to. I’m sorry) you word vomited. The midfielder gave you a small smile after a little pause, “Ik weet dat je geen nee kon zeggen. Goed gedaan.” (I know you couldn’t say no. Good job.).

She understood it, it’d be okay. You thanked her for understanding and said your bye’s like always. Just this time without the ‘see you next week’.

To say you hated yourself for this decision was an understatement. You hated yourself for not staying and especially for ghosting Victoria. Why did you even ghost her.

Vic texted you, telling you how the team was on top of the league and that they missed you. You gave short and dry answers and eventually she stopped texting. She didn’t tell you about how many goals she scored or how the boys on the other team were so mad about losing to a girl, something that was your favourite thing to watch together.

You’ve been playing for ADO for about 7 months now and you still weren’t a regular player. You gave your everything but that wasn’t enough apparently.

AZERION VROUWEN EREDIVISIE !

Victoria Pelova, de Concordia youngster heeft getekend voor ADO vrouwen. Ze zal over een paar weken haar oude team genoot y/n y/l/n volgen naar de groen gele club.

Victoria Pelova, the Concordia youngster has signed for ADO women. She will follow her old teammate y/n y/l/n to the green yellow club in a few weeks.

You read it again and again but it didn’t change. She was going to be in the spotlights all over again and you’ll be the second choice. When the news had sank in you realised you’d actually have to see her again.

When you arrived at the ADO training ground you didn’t expect to be met with the sight of a brunette tying her shoelaces. It was still early, you always came in earlier, trying to train extra for that spot in the starting lineup. You already had your training gear on so swapping your boots next to the field would do. Unnoticed, or so you thought, you walked towards the freshly cut grass.

The trainings went like normal, nothing really changed. Except for the glances. And while you didn’t get a starting spot, Victoria did. Victoria Pelova was ADO’s new stargirl, their key player that would lead them to a league win.

You didn’t get any playtime anymore, you needed a change, a new club. And when you didn’t get a call up for the Under 23’s you knew you had to go elsewhere. Start fresh, create a new you, a better you. Bayern München contacted you and you had to say yes.

You did good, working on yourself like you’ve never done before. The girls, staff, fans and coaches liked you. You were a stargirl for once, Bayerns stargirl. That cdm position was yours and no one could take it away from you.

sydneylohmann posted on their story

You got into the National team again but this time it was the seniors, the team you’ve always wanted to be a part of. You made your comeback, the new you. Victoria was still in the Under 23’s so you didn’t have to see her yet, you dreaded that moment.

Victoria moved to Ajax not much later after your move to Germany. She was doing good, not that you were watching her or anything. Ajax ended on top of their league and got into the Champions League. They did so good they ended going through to the groupstages and what a surprise, Bayern got grouped with them. Just what you needed.

The first game was away and Victoria absolutely destroyed you on their home field. It gave you throwbacks to when she’d effortlessly ran and turned around those boys. But that was when you played together, when her talent was on your side. The game ended in a draw and a POTM for Pelova.

You shook hands with the red and white girls. “Goed gespeeld” (Good game). There was only one girl left, she avoided you, saving you for last and you knew it. You walked away, not caring about a stupid handshake. “Wacht! Y/n wacht nou even!” (Wait! Y/n just wait!) your ex teammate yelled.

You stopped in your tracks, didn’t say anything and didn’t move. “Ik snap je niet, waarom doe je zo?” (I don’t get you, why are you acting like this?) Victoria asked you confused. How did she not know. Everywhere you went, she went and stole the fucking show. Now you’re finally doing good, on your own and she’s making a fool out of you again. “Niks, ik was je gewoon vergeten.” (Nothing, i had just forgotten you) you shrug.

That was a fucking low blow, even you knew it. You heard her walk away and sighed. The moment those words came out of your mouth you regretted it. You didn’t forget her, you couldn’t. How did you manage to make this situation even worse.

The second game against her team was even harder. The brunette girl was going in for hard tackles and was on you every moment. You couldn’t do anything about it and got subbed off in the 67th minute. Ajax scored a goal and you lost on home ground.

I wasn’t long after that you couldn’t avoid her anymore, she got selected for the World Cup roster and that meant you had to see her everyday for atleast two months. This was the absolute hell.

You dreaded the camp and when it finally came you had to drag yourself out of bed and into your car. Waiting for your arrival was the media intern photographing you. “Hi, goedemorgen” (Hi, goodmorning) you waved to the camera.

Walking into the big hall you spotted a few of the girls, hugging and greeting them. Daan came walking towards you, bringing you in for a big hug. “Hey kleine, hoe gaat het met je?” (Hey little one, how are you?) she asked. “Ik ben niet echt de kleine meer maar goed, denk ik.” (I’m not the little one anymore but good, i think) you trailed off seeing the brunette walking in. “Oh y/n, jullie waren beste vrienden. Je kunt haar niet altijd blijven ontwijken.” (Oh y/n, you were bestfriends. You can’t keep avoiding her forever) Daniëlle sighed. You shrugged and walked towards the others. You’re not in the mood to talk about it right now.

You roomed with Jill, like always. Over the past year and something you’d told her practically everything, including the Victoria things. About your friendship, how you destroyed it, the jealousy, the guilt and your big big crush on her. Well you didn’t exactly tell her that but she just knew.

After an afternoon of looking at Victoria from across the room like a creep you flopped on your bed and opened instagram. You went through your highlights, in search for that one story. The one with you and the talented midfielder, the one you swore you ‘hated so much’.

11 October 2017

“Kijk je weer naar jullie foto’s samen?” (Are you looking at photos of the two of you together again?) Jill asked unimpressed. You groaned and sunk into your pillow. “Aaghh, ik heb het zo verpest!” (Aaghh, i messed up big time!) you screamed into your pillow.

Jill laughed at your misery, “Het is niet te laat, je bent gewoon een sukkel. Maak het goed, Vic zat de hele avond naar je te staren.” (It’s not too late, you’re just acting stupid. Make it right, Vic has been staring at you all evening) Jill said sitting down next to you. But honestly, could you make it right again?

You didn’t do much to make it up to her. You tried to act normal but your new normal was ignoring her. The hate you thought you had for her was so much more than that. It wasn’t really hate, it was so much more complicated. You hated that she was better but you also loved it. You hated that she was social, sweet, funny and silly but you loved it even more.

Both you and Victoria didn’t make any minutes at the tournament and you were gutted. It had been your dream, both of your dreams. And the loss to the USA was even harder. You were almost there, almost the World Champions.

Nothing really changed after the Euros, you still didn’t have any contact with the Ajax player. You were still playing for Bayern but it began to bore you. There wasn’t any change and the Bundesliga was too comfortable for you.

So you moved again, in January 2023 you signed for the Gunners. Your dreamclub, the club both you and Victoria had dreamed of playing at together. You made your dream transfer, and she did too.

ARSENAL NEWS !

After signing y/n y/l/n, Arsenal has now also signed the other Dutch woman, Victoria Pelova. The two play together for The Netherlands with our striker, Vivianne Miedema and used to play together at ADO. We’re delighted to Welcome Pelova into our squad.

You’d already met a few of the girls and Viv you knew already so when you walked onto the training ground you weren’t so nervous anymore. But it really bothered you that Vic had yet again taken a bigger part in your life. At this point you were almost living with eachother. Training went by rather quickly and you got home as soon as possible.

The team won every game the first month and you played in three of them. Victoria had already made her way into the hearts of the fans while you were.. overshadowed by her. But it was okay, she deserved it. You didn’t like the spotlights on your personal life anyway.

It was when you made a bad timed tackle in the quarterfinals of the Champions League and got send off with a second yellow that Vic decided to talk to you. You stormed off the field, not agreeing with the ref in the slightest, it wasn’t a good tackle but you didn’t really touch her, she wasn’t hurt.

You stomped into the tunnel. ‘Fuck fuck fuck is this gonna cost the team’ was the only thing on your mind. What if they didn’t make it through because of you. You’d never be seen the same again, you’ll lose your spot.

With your head in your hands you were overthinking every single aspect of your life. And then, someone opened the door. “Wat is je probleem y/n!” (What’s your problem y/n!) Victoria yelled. You sighed, refusing to look up at her. “Kijk naar me als ik tegen je praat! Jezus, wat is er!” (Look at me when i’m talking to you! Jesus, what is your problem!) she stood infront of you, expecting an answer.

“Niks, laat me met rust.” (Nothing, leave me alone) you said, just like the last time you really had a conversation. “Er is niet ‘niks’, waarom haat je me zo erg? Wat heb ik gedaan, ik dacht dat we dit samen wilden, samen in de Champions League finale voor Arsenal.” (There is not ‘nothing’, why do you hate me so much? What did i do, i thought that we wanted this together, the two of us in the Champions League final for Arsenal) Vic sighed defeated.

“Oh fuck you stargirl! Je doet alsof je niet weet waarom ik zo doe maar je weet hoe je altijd alles krijgt. Je bent beter in alles, ik kan niks voor mezelf hebben. Je bent overal, Arsenal, Nederland, mijn hoofd!” (Oh fuck you stargirl! You’re acting like you don’t know why i’m acting like this but you know that you always get everything. You’re better in everything, i can’t have anything for myself. You’re everywhere, Arsenal, The Netherlands, my head!) you said extremely frustrated. “Ik dacht eerst dat als ik je zou ghosten je weg zou gaan, uit mijn hoofd. Maar je gaat niet weg, het wordt alleen maar erger… Ik vind je heel erg leuk en dat maakt alles erger, ik heb je altijd leuk gevonden.” (At first i thought that if i ghosted you you’d go away, out of my head. But you won’t go away, it only got worse… i really like you and that makes everything worse, i have always liked you) the last few words left your mouth like a whisper, only meant for your own ears but hers heard them too.

“Oh” was the only word that left her mouth. You had prepared yourself for this moment for months, every scenario had played through your head. Except this one.

“Ja, ‘oh’. Vergeet maar dat ik dit ooit heb gezegd, het maakt niet uit.” (Yes, ‘oh’. Just forget that i ever said this, it doesn’t matter) you said standing up, ready to leave the stadium.

“Wacht! Wacht y/n!” (Wait! Wait y/n!) she called you back. She stopped you by taking your hand in hers. “Ik had het gewoon niet verwacht. Toen je niet meer reageerde op mijn appjes en daarna, die dingen zei-“ (I just didn’t expect it. When you didn’t respond to my texts and after, you said those things-) you winced at the thought of the words you had said to her the last time you spoke. “- toen dacht ik al helemaal niet meer dat je me mocht, laat staan dat je me leuk vond. Maar y/n je weet toch al dat ik jou de beste voetballer vind, dat ik overal kom voor jou en dat jij degene bent die ik leuk vind, al jaren.” (-i thought you didn’t like me at all, let alone that you liked me. But y/n you know that i think you’re the best footballer, that i go everywhere you go and that you’re the one that i like, for years now) your teammate whispered looking down at both of your dirty boots.

Smiling at her words you spoke again, “Hmm, zeg dat nog eens” (Hmm, say that again). Victoria laughed, looking you in your eyes. “We hebben het wel gedaan hè, nu alleen het WK nog.” (We really did it huh, only the World Championship now) you gave her a smile. She leaned in and placed a kiss on your lips. One that was just as sweet as Victoria herself.

y/n_y/l/n

liked by liekemartens and 117.829 others

🍝💌

comments

katie_mccabe11 the girrllssss

jillroord so my method worked huh

↳ y/n_y/l/n shut up

daniellevddonk kleine kinderen

↳ y/n_y/l/n jij bent 1.20cm, dat is echt klein

victoriapelova stargirl 💫❤️

viviannemiedema sukkeltjes

oranjeleeuwinfann wait who’s that??

A/N don’t know what to think of this fic but it’ll have to do.

[prismuffin]

Eek! I got an idea from Crow anon's last ask!! 'John Constantine reacting to a Reader that reminds him on his younger self'.

One strak difference, could be that instead of a horny drunk, like John is, Reader is a cuddly drunk!!

So how do you think John would react with that male Reader always being super cuddly with him while he's( Reader's) drunk??

Oh, and it's the Reader's turn to confess something to John! While Reader is drunkenly cuddled on top of John on the couch, the Reader just looks up into John's eyes smiling. Him telling John, he actually can't turn off his soul reading ability, because it was something he was born with.

Which is actually why Reader trusts him to be comfortable and relaxed around, because his soul reads as good natured. The Reader explaining he's happy to know John personally, because that means when Reader ends up dying he knows he wont be alone and can still help John. Because, everyone knows that John's cursed to have his dead loved ones haunt him.

- OwO, Hitting ya with the feels today bro!

OWO ANON WAIT PFF THIS IS SO SAD CAUSE I THINK-

John would definitely tear up, like he'd be trying for the life of him not to cry. Just a nice drunk cuddle, the buzz of the alcohol being unignorable with you laying on top of him. You were asleep, that's what he thought but then you suddenly turned to him with the laziest smile on your face and told him you were sorry? He was confused to say the least until you explained to him that even though he didn't want you to, you did read his soul. Saw bits of his past and how he came to be where he is today along with all the fears and curses that hung around his aura.

John was nervous for sure, right, of course you couldn't turn it off. Now you saw how dirty and corrupted his soul probably is. His breath stalled though as you snuggled deeper into him, instead of pulling back and berating him like he thought you would. Instead you went on to talk about how (surprisingly) good-natured and clean it was considering what he's been through, along with how comfortable and safe you felt around him because of it.

But what really hit home was what you said right before crashing on his chest.

Right when he thought you couldn't say more, the tears already resting in his eyes you reassured him that when if you died before him and were cursed to haunt him you wouldn't feel that bad about it, if anything you'd be glad. That you wouldn't mind being bound to him even if he were to be condemned to hell. Yawning afterwards, you immediately crashed while cuddled into John and he couldn't stop the single tear that'd rolled down his face as he stared at the ceiling, really taking in what you'd said.

He wouldn't mind having your soul bound to haunt him either.

———

Directory

[bankzitterss]

Hiii zou je mis een raoul x reader one shot kunnen schrijven. Dat de reader ook een bankzitter is en al houd ze heel veel van optreden dat ze alsnog wel zenuwachtig wordt en raoul merkt dat en haar comfort? :)

Bedankt voor jouw request! Ik ga er straks gelijk aan beginnen! Nog even wachten dus hahaha!

[gulnarsultan]

🐺❤🏵

Robb Stark's source of trust.

Jon Snow's defense fortress.

Theon Greyjoy's the cause of approval.

Bennard Stark's mind teacher.

Sansa Stark's role model.

Jocelyn Stark's confidant.

Arya Stark's dare point.

Bran Stark's support friend.

Rickon Stark's compassion center.

[fransopdefiets]

23-6 Driva

Het werd gisterenavond bijna dezelfde maaltijd als de dag er voor, het aanbod in de dorpssupermarkt was niet denderend. Wel hadden ze naturel yoghurt, daar kon ik met frambozen een lekker toetje van maken. Het bier heb ik maar laten staan, het is hartstikke duur en ik mis het niet. Straks in Trondheim misschien om het einde van de etappe te vieren.

Vannacht heb ik heerlijk geslapen in deze hut. Gisterenmiddag was ik moe en hangerig, ik denk ook vanwege alle temperatuurswisselingen. Het ene moment zweet je als een otter in de brandende zon terwijl je tegen de helling op zwoegt, even later schuift er een wolk voor de zon en daal je af in ijskoude wind.

Ik lees het laatste deeltje Terry Pratchett op mijn e-reader uit. Een heel originele, maar zeldzaam vermoeiende stijl van fantasy.

Ik wil beginnen aan A tramp abroad van Mark Twain, maar Mark Twain wil niet. Ik heb de epub gedownload van het Gutenberg project, maar het bestand is zo groot dat mijn ereader er op vastloopt. Zijn de meeste boeken onder de 1 mb, deze is iets van 20. Dat is jammer, ik had me er op verheugd. Dan maar good old Murakami, 1q84, dat is zo’n goed geschreven verhaal, zowel stilistisch als qua plot, waar zoveel in zit, dat lees ik graag nog een keer.

Ik vertrek vroeg vandaag, dan heb ik de weg nog voor mezelf. Het is eerst nog 20 kilometer lang geleidelijk stijgen naar Hjerkin. De lucht is grijs en het is nog koud.

Als ik bijna aan het einde van de klim ben, zie ik een bordje langs de kant van de weg, kerk open. Je moet dan even langs een steil gravelpaadje omhoog, maar dan heb je ook wat . Een klein kerkje of misschien beter gezegd een kapelletje uit 1969 op een plek waar sinds de 7e eeuw al af en aan kerkjes hebben gestaan. Je wordt er ontvangen door twee vrijwilligers, twee hele aardige dames, de koffie en koekjes staan klaar. De ene is een aantal jaar geleden van Kopenhagen via Zweden naar de Noordkaap gefietst via de route die voor de terugweg heb uitgezocht. Op mijn vraag naar haar ervaringen met de muggen in Lapland, vertelt ze dat daar eind augustus was, als de eerste nachtvorst geweest is, dan zijn de muggen al weer weg. Ik ben een beetje te vroeg om daarvan te kunnen profiteren. Ik maak een mentale notitie.

Maar nu moet ik nog 40 kilometer langs de E6, een drukke tweebaans weg. Die is niet alleen populair bij de Noren zelf, maar ook bij de Ferrari-, Porsche- en MG-clubs zo te zien, evenals bij motorclubs en natuurlijk de eeuwige campers. Het gevaar zit in die laatste categorie. De Noren zijn zeer voorzichtige rijders, die halen me echt niet in als het niet kan. Maar die buitenlanders, lees Nederlanders en Duitsers, die hoor je denken, terwijl de buitenspiegel langs je schouder schampt, “kan die man niet ergens anders fietsen?”. Toch is dit een gewone provinciale weg, waar iedereen gebruik van maakt.

Naarmate we meer dalen, vernauwt de kloof zich tot een trechter waar de weg, de spoorbaan en de rivier doorheen moeten.

In Kongsvoll staat een houten herberg langs de weg, ik ben hartstikke koud van het afdalen zonder te trappen en daas van alle verkeer. Doet u mij maar een cappuccino van 5 euro met een stukje cake met creme van 6,5. Ik aarzel lang over een tweede koffie, want deze prijs/kwaliteit verhouding is stuitend. En toch doe ik het, gewoon omdat het hierbinnen zo lekker warm is.

Na Kongsvoll is het nog anderhalf uur dalen en soms weer stijgen naar Driva. Daar verbreedt het dal zich en er is een camping met hutten. Ik ga nog een nachtje op chique en huur een kabouterhutje.

Afgelegde afstand: 59 km

Gefietste tijd: 4,5 uur

Afstand langs een lineaal naar de Noordkaap: 1.180 km (maar dan ben ik nu virtueel op de helft!)

[kladblok]

Sensitivity readers

De rel omtrent het herzien van de kinderboeken van Roald Dahl door zogenaamde ‘sensitivity readers’, is boven alles een feestmaal voor media en uitgevers; het is aanschuiven geblazen aan de talkshowtafels, Dahls boeken gaan als warme broodjes over de toonbank, en de kluifjes, straks, zijn voor de cabaretiers. Kortom, het gaat weer eens nergens over. Behalve dan, net als bij het zwartepietendebat, over de ruggen van kinderen.

Het gaat in elk geval niet over een echt probleem; want pas als de correcties de romans van Dahl hadden betroffen, zou ophef terecht zijn. Van een volwassen lezer mag men verwachten dat hij stereotypen of ronduit discriminerende uitlatingen in een boek als tijdgebonden doorziet; en het is aan de lezer of dit naar zijn smaak is of niet, niet aan een uitgever. Maar kinderboeken moeten vooral het grut plezier in lezen geven, en ook al zijn de ‘sensitivity readers’ misschien te voortvarend te werk gegaan, het is op zich begrijpelijk dat een uitgever succesvolle kinderboeken van vroeger leesbaar wil maken voor kinderen van nu.

…mits dat zin zou hebben. Want wat bewijst dat deze discussie echt nergens over gaat, is de aanname van voor- en tegenstanders, dat je kinderen kan beïnvloeden met een al dan niet correcte woordkeus in een kinderboek.

Die gedachte is absurd. Onze kinderen zijn vier stappen verder dan wij denken. Respect, politieke correctheid, de onaantastbaarheid van intellectueel eigendom: het zijn begrippen van ons, niet van hen. Ze kiezen hun eigen woorden. Ga als ‘sensitivity reader’ eens op een schoolplein luisteren; je oren zullen bloeden.

Als kinderen Dahl willen lezen, doen ze dat; zo niet, dan zijn ze óf te jong, óf Dahl toevallig net ontgroeid. Kinderen maken zelf wel uit wat ze lezen. Daar gaan wij niet over.

[countrymusiclover]

Ch 40 - The Targaryen Queen

Part 41

Fire OF A Stark

@dragonixfrye

A Few Years Later

The Iron Throne had been destroyed. The throne that kings and queens fought over for thousands of years until a dragon burnt it to the ground. The six kingdoms have been faring quite well over the years. It took a lot of long hours and council meetings to get the country back into shape. Sansa had her hands full running the North as an independent kingdom like our brother Robb wanted it to be before he died. “What if I am not good enough, Father. They may have accepted Bran as King but he isn’t the last dragon?”

Lifting my head up in the room I shared with Jaime in the rebuilt Kings Landing castle I was still feeling uneasy about all this. Eyeing myself in the large mirror leaned up against the wall I slumped my shoulders. The dress I had chosen was red and golden with gray and black designs across it. It was short sleeved showing a banner seal of the

Lannister lion and the Targaryen dragon split together to combine one house seal. I had my riding boots on like normal running my hands down the fabric until arms wrapped around my waist from behind. “You have nothing to be nervous about, my dragon wife.”

“Jaime…” Spinning around in his arms I draped my arms on his shoulders lifting my gaze up so I could meet his green orbs. “We have been traveling so much with the kids. Casterly Rock to here and then Dragonstone. All over too many times to count, I just don’t want the people to think that I am not looking out for them too.”

He tilted his head to the side, raising his left hand up to cradle my cheek. Leaning into his palm he slowly spoke to me. “Listen, little dragon. Ruling isn’t easy and you are a mother first. I told you once that the rest of the world doesn’t matter, it’s just us.”

“But that can’t be true-“ He cuts me off with a quick kiss resting his forehead against mine.

He whispered back where my fingers gripped onto his armor that he was wearing. He wasn’t a Kingsguard but he decided to wear the golden armor on my coronation day. He was wearing the Lannister colors underneath like usual. “It is still true, Lynesse. As long as we are in this room or one of our chambers in either place we call home. We don’t have to worry about responsibility…all we focus on is our family.”

“Daddy!” A child’s cry came from the other side of the door making us break away from each other. He opened the door getting his legs tackled by our youngest daughter Guinevere.

The girl wrapped her arms around his legs giggling. She had taken after her father with the green eyes that almost would match my eyes at some points . But she had fully taken to having my white hair that looked blonde when she was in the sunlight. “Be careful there, little G.” I responded, bending down on my knee tugging her off her father’s leg and up into my arms.

“Mommy, Eddie keeps asking to see Uncle Tyrion.” Another girl’s voice that belonged to our eldest Rhaenyra ran inside the room where I could see her wearing a red short dress and trousers coming towards me. Her hair was in two separate braids falling over her shoulders.

Finally as if on cue Eddard entered afterwards. The locks of golden hair scattered everywhere in a set of messy curls almost on top of his head. He was wearing a training sword, reminding me so much of Arya. “He is Hand of the King, Rhae!….oh and Queen. Sorry mother.”

“It’s alright, Ed. I am not the Queen just yet.” Bouncing Guinevere on my hip I sent him a smile enjoying that he accepted his uncle with such happiness. Everyone in the world had hated the dwarf for long enough.

Guinevere tugged on my dress strap asking in her sweet voice. “Does that make daddy King?”

“It’s not like that, little lioness.” Her father stepped up taking her from my arms, ticking her stomach making her giggle loudly. “Your cousin Bran is king. I am simply the husband to the Queen of the Six kingdoms.”

Eddard raised his sword in the air with his right hand following his father with being the best young swordsman in the young King and Queensguard. “I will be a Knight, like father.”

“Nah Eddie. Dragon rider is better.” Rhaenyra crossed her arms over her chest sticking her tongue out at her younger brother. She had been riding Joanna with me since the day we told her she was old enough to ride a horse on her own.

Guinevere made a raspberry noise at her. “Princess….”

“Enough all of you. Whatever path you may choose is important. You are my children and you will be able to choose whatever you want. We have taken away the old traditions of the Gods.” I waved my index finger at the three once Jaime had placed our youngest girl on her feet so they were all looking up at us.

Someone knocked on the chamber door altering all of us. Jaime crossed the room opening the door meeting the gaze of our First Lady Knight Brienne. “Ser Jaime, My Lady. Everyone is ready. I shall escort the children downstairs.”

“Go on young dragon-lions.” Jaime nudged them with his knee sending the three of them forward. The three ran forward following closely behind the woman that was now named Commander of the Kingsguard/Queensguard. “Shall we, my dragon queen.”

He offered me his left arm that I looped my hand through tightly. Intertwining our hands together I stared up at him before we started walking through the hallways. Scanning my eyes around I felt nervous walking down their halls when we first came back here. At first glance I could only see my father Ned being killed even though I wasn't here the day it happened. I could still see a dream of it happening. But Jaime isn't without his own nightmares as I am well aware. Some scars stay with you. "What if not all the remaining houses accept me as their Queen?"

"What will it take for me to convince you that they will. Shall I drag you back to our chambers for a private reminder?' He sent me a glare tugging our walk to a halt, smirking that cocky grin he knew usually works on me.

"Jaime-" I attempted to say but he squeezed my hand still in his.

"Lynesse, this whole coronation is more for the Lords and Ladies to show their support for you in a formal way. You have been ruling the six kingdoms beside your cousin since the day the small council declared your name. You will always be their chosen queen from now and always. Just like you will forever be my loving wife." He pressed his forehead against mine, leaning down kissing me. Leaning forward I deepened the kiss until we needed breath starting our walk to the former throne room.

Walking in almost sync with each other there was a thought that kept crossing my mind. “Does it seem or feel weird to you. That I am queen but you aren’t the king of the six kingdoms?”

“Gods no, I never thought I could handle the job as Hand of the King. I most certainly couldn’t handle taking on the role of being king.” He snorted out, making me think that he was more used to sword fighting than anything else in his life.

Shrugging my shoulders I turned my head seeing that we were standing outside the main doors. "Here we go, my lion…" I muttered under my breath squeezing his hand a little tighter in mine.

"You'll do just fine, little dragon." He kissed the crown of my head watching the doors opened by two guards standing on either side. Together we strides through the aisle of people who all had their eyes on us. The train of my dress got dragged behind me when I walked. Before our eyes I noticed that Bran was sitting in his chair on the top set of the stairs where the Iron Throne used to be.

Sansa was standing beside him being on the front row of the crowds. Brienne had Rhaenyra, Eddard and Guinevere standing beside her. Arya would have been here but she was traveling the world so she was only here for Bran's coronation. Jaime and I finally stopped where he stepped to the side nodding at me with a proud smile. "Today we are gathered here to witness a beautiful moment for our time of new reign. My cousin and I may not have wanted the power but we shall keep doing our best to rule..Lynesse, please take a knee. Brienne, I will need your assistance."

"Of course, your Grace." She bowed her head stepping up to stand beside his chair ready to assist his help.

Bran glanced over to a Septon that walked forward carrying a pillow with Rhaenyra Targaryen's crown sitting on it. He held it out, never breaking his gaze with the king. "Lynesse Stark-Targaryen now married Lannister. I am here to ask will you honor the duties of the realm. Will you wear the crown and uphold the safety of the realm. Will you defend the houses and keep the peace from this day until the end of your days?"

"I will, King Brandon." I declared resting my elbow on my knee that I didn't have bent on the stone steps. Above his head was a painting made of glass that showed an image of the Iron Throne before it was destroyed and a Targaryen banner behind it. In place of the throne there was two separate thrones now on either side of the burnt swords that had been cleaned up.

Bran nodded at the Lady Commander simply. "Commander Brienne." She stepped forward pushing his chair forward where he could reach me closer.

She then handed him the crown, stepping back with a light bow. "Your Grace. My Lady."

"By the power vested in me by the Crown and law of the Six Kingdoms I hereby declare you Lynesse Lannister, formally born Targaryen, raised true as a Stark, Lady of Casterly Rock, Protector of the Realm. Now decried to be Queen Lynesse, The Last Targaryen." He lowered the crown down onto my head gently. I shut my eyes, sucking in a breath feeling the weight of the jewelry on my head. Rising to my feet I turned to face the crowd seeing Tyrion standing beside Sansa's side.

He raised a cup of wine in his hands declaring. "I, Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister!" He bent down on a knee nodding his head at me.

Ser Bronn of the Blackwater now known as Lord of Highgarden and Master of Coin. "I swear fealty to Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister."

"I, Yohn of House Royce swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister." Another lord bent his knee to me.

Young Robin stepped forward, dropping down. "I, Robin Arryn of the Vale swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister."

"I, Edmure of House Tully swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister" Catelyn's brother got up bending down by his wife Roslin's side as she was holding their son in her arms.

Sam, Jon's friend from the Wall raises his hand coming to bend the knee next with a king smile. "I, Samwell of House Tarly, Grand Maester, swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister."

Davos Seaworth, Master of Ships. "...swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister."

"I, Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End…" Who used to be Robert's bastard son. "swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister."

The two final Lord and Lady finished their vows. "I, Howland of House Reed….I, Yara Greyjoy of the Iron Islands."

"I, Jaime of House Lannister, Lord of the Rock and Husband pledge to swear fealty to the Queen Lynesse Targaryen-Lannister." Jaime was the last person to bend the knee to me. His green eyes only focused on me as he sent me a proud smile.

My gaze fell down onto him watching the rest of the guests in the room bend down on their knees and bow their heads. "Gods save King Bran and Queen Lynesse!" From that moment I knew our story was far from over.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[letitbefiction]

Iron heart and a spider shaped key- chapter 16

Chapter summary: Friday comes around and here you are, all ready to go to your first party, but maybe It ends a bit differently than what you promised.

A/N: I hope you guys like it! Again. Thank you all so much for 200 followers! Requests are open so feel free to choose from here

Warning-swearing, underage drinking

Paring- Peter Parker x stark!reader

Type: fluff and ANGST! (Oh angsty tony is the best!)

Word count: 3K

Previous chapter

Next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days had gone by and now it was finally the weekend, the boy you once fought to have a sneaky meeting was now the one you avoided at all cost.

You woke up late on another lazy Friday, ready to see the consequences of your last prank on Peter, the pranks between you two never stop and rather took a more harsh and dangerous tone, specifically from you.

You flattered your eyes tiredly while leaning against the cold metal armrest, staring ahead at the elevator numbers going down.

“Morning girls…” you yawned with a soft smile as you caught the gaze of the two female avengers sitting at the white marble island. “Morning?” Wanda questioned sarcastically while glancing at the time displayed on her phone screen “Y/n. It’s almost 2 pm.” The redhead spy taunted with disbelief crossing her voice “And you’re surprised that I’m up now?” You giggled taking a small glance towards them briefly before turning to see the hot water mixing your coffee in the machine.

With a shrug you grabbed a hold of the mug, steams of coffee smell filling your lazy senses. Enjoying the small conversation you three created you talked about the first week at school, who’s nice and who she feels like punching in the throat (flash) and the general praises she got from teachers and her plans for tonight.

“A party?” “Yep.” You answered taking the last sip form the now cold coffee, you made a small face of disgust to the cold beverage before turning your attention back to your surroundings. “You’re going with Peter?” “N-no! Of course not..jeez..” you huffed trying to calm the beats in your heart, you hated and loved that curly headed jerk, maybe it was the fact you were still holding on to the first time you met and the way he looked at you, or maybe it was that you kept the glances he sent you without knowing you noticed.

“Speak of the devil..” Natasha nudged her head to the hallway where it was quiet visible to see Steve and Sam walking to each side of the brunette boy, you felt like smiling at the sight, they most likely just returned from training because they were all a bit sweaty and a bit blushed, you didn’t notice the fact the girls were calling them over your eyes were locked on his, it was a shy loving kind of glance, no words exchanged a sweet smile tugged on his pink lips before he was snapped out of his thought by Sam’s pat on his right shoulder.

“Morning girls!” Steve called happily “good mor—“ Wanda’s cheerful tone was cut by your harsh one “Parker.” “Stark.” He snarled back, crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles under his shirt tensing and you tried your best to avoid your drifting gaze.

The delicate chocolate eyes left you with a bittersweet feeling because once again, you dismissed the thought of ‘it was just an act’ like Michelle said, seemed to real to be fake.

The tension in the room settled down to the cold and silent war between the teenagers, causing everyone to feel both uncomfortable and challenged to get you two together.

Deciding the break the frozen silence, Sam smiled to Steve “Rogers.” “Wilson.” They mimicking and then Wanda and Nat was rolled into it as well “Romanoff.” “Maximoff.” They all mocked you and you simply rolled eyes at them, Sam turned to you with a teasing grin “I would tell you to get a room but I don’t want you two alone in a room with all those hormones.” He spun his finger at you direction and you simply smiled flatly “agreed.” You smiled causing the room to look at you confused, including Peter “Wait really?” Peter words escaped his lips before he could stop himself causing him to turn a bright color of red “Defiantly it’ll end really badly.” You shrugged and turned to rest completely ignoring Peter shocked face “Why’s that?” Sam asked, trying to garb into a sentence that’ll make him superior to bucky in the ship wars “Cause..I’d kill Peter and leave the room.” Everyone sigh relived except for Peter who seemed a bit disappointed.

A nervous faked a cough was brought for Steve that was closing the fridge an apple being thrown back and forth in his palms “so Pete! Got any plans for the weekend?” He asked taking a bite from his apple “not really..I think I’m gonna..” his eyes darted back to you with a tilt, seeing the sarcastic grin on your face “you know what. I think y/n has something a lot more interesting than what I’m doing.” He smiled flatly, something in his eyes suddenly changed, jealousy took over his body.

For days he’s been pondering trying to figure out if you were really going out with that blond boy, millions of plans on how to make you miss it occupied his mind during long nights.

Oh how he hated imagining someone getting close to you, kissing you at the end of the “perfect date” , how you’ll fall in love with that person and eventually completely forget about him.

All eyes landed on your smirk and proud face “oh yes. Because unlike Peter I have social life.” You glared at him, suddenly noticing the white knuckles tugging on his shirt. “Does that mean you told your dad already?” He spoke innocently, trying to trap you, but you simply turned to the others with a roll of your eyes. “I’m he won’t mind” you shrugged “he won’t mind you going on a..” he stopped and turned to the confused super solider next to him “date” his tone satisfied seeing how your face dropped in anger, “what.” Steve asked through gritted teeth “A date?!” Everyone asked with a shocked tone, exapt for Wanda who just glared at the boy with disappointment

“No no chill Stevie I’m going to a party.” You shrugged and jumped off the stool “A party?!” The man asked again, ‘oh god overprotective Steve mode is activated..’ you thought and took a deep breath before plastering a soft smile on your face “Yes. My friends invited me.” You flattered innocently before walking past Sam. “Oh and Peter…” You smiled, your mouth dripping honey at your words “Tell Ned I said hi” you grinned and walked out confidently, leaving the flustered boy behind you.

“Man this girl is messing you up huh spiderboy?” Sam teased crossing his arms and leaning over the counter, Peter’s cheeks turned completely red at the realization that Michelle had tricked him and that maybe he needs to accept everyone’s advice despite Mr. Stark orders because he simply had to have you.

Time passed and the blue sky were now colored with beautiful shades of deep purple, orange and a delicate shade of pink that gave you the perfect view over the courtyard.

Music played in your speaker, filling the room with a bubbly and light feeling as you got ready. For hours you went back and forth texting both Madison and Michelle on your outfits, and of course telling Michelle on how you managed to get through to Peter’s jealousy a bit.

While the conversation with Michelle was more on joking with each other and Peter’s issues with you, the conversation with Madison was completely different, talking about mostly outfits and your family.

So loki is a good guy??

Yeah he’s really nice and he got me books

But didn’t he try to kill us?

It’s..a long story

You looked over your black and white plaid skirt and fixed your oversized jean jacket over your black tank top, brushing your hands over your body and giving yourself a small scan over your makeup.

The buzzing sound of your phone dragged your attention and you were quick to answer the blond girl “yeah Mads?” “Where are you? The guys from the football team walked in and damn girl you have see it for yourself!” She sigh with excitement lingering her voice “don’t worry I’ll be right there just gonna tell my dad.” You smiled and said your goodbyes.

“No.” Was your father decision, he didn’t even look at you, he simply continued working on his computer “What.” You asked again with angered tone to that he simply rolled his eyes “You heard me.” “This is dumb come on they’re waiting for me!” You whined thinking of the fact you might miss your first teenage party you’ll ever get to go to “I don’t know those kids!” He stood up from his chair and ran a hand through his dark brown hair, “Dad..” you smiled understandingly “what if you’ll get drunk? Huh? What if you’ll get kidnapped?!” He rumbled but you knew him a bit too well by now, “Your point?” You joked seeing his serious expression “My point?” “You’re going somewhere with this and I want to know what is it.” You answered nonchalantly and crossed your arms over your small form “You are so like me somtimes it’s scary..” he shook his head trying to hide his proud smile “wear this.” He handed you a small metal round bracelet, it was a bit stiff and had the letter A over it as a symbol of the avengers “Another iron man bracelet?” Your frowned “new and improved. It’ll keep tabs on you.” He stated and crossed his arms over the cartoon shirt he was wearing, you opened your mouth saying how much it’s invading your privacy but decided to go against your Stark DNA and simply groaned “fine” you stared at the silver bracelet and tightened it around your wrist before lifting your eyes at your dad “can I go now?” You smirked and lifted your brows “Be back by midnight cinderella” he joked and placed his hands in his pockets desperately trying to push away any bad thoughts “thanks dad” you hugged him and he placed his hands over your back tightly, he was scared but he won’t say anything.

You rushed outside where Happy was more than ready to give you the ‘drinking is bad’ speech during the car ride to the privet neighborhood.

“Thanks Hap!” You called slamming the door behind you towards the house. It was easy to spot, some rich kid’s large house with loud music shook the walls, the flashing colorful lights and sound of drunk toddlers filling the neighborhood.

“Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice call behind you over the loud music, you turned to see Bridget holding a bottle of beer in her hand as she danced her through the crowd. A faint and relieved smile forming on your lips as she led you to your little group, they all found a small corner in the kitchen that was crowded with teenagers that came and gone to grab another drink or food.

“Ay! Would you look at that!” Jack called with a grin gaining your friend group’s attention. “an avengers walked into a teenage house part…” he trailed before bursting with laughter “it sounds like a beginning of a joke!” You shook your head and smiled as the music filled your ears, you all made fun of the fact that no one was able to hold his alcohol.

“I mean, come on y/n. Would you?” Emily teased eyeing your cup that was filled with apple sider “What?” You raised a brow before snapping your head towards a crushing sound muttering damn under your breath, “Hold your alcohol?” She continued and you turned to her with blushing cheeks, you actually did but it only happened once and no one knew about it, not even your dad.

“I-I don’t drink..” you lied and tugged at the ends of your jack, you noticed they’re shocked and mischievous glances and felt helplessly curious.

“get this girl a beer” Adam called to the jock who opened another six pack, you shook your head trying your hardest to resist the temptation “no no I promised my dad I won’t drink” you excused with a faint laugh as they hand you the bottle. “just a little bit we promise not to tell” they placed three fingers up in a boyscout salute and you rolled your eyes with a small laugh. You stared at the brown glass bottle as small drips rolled down in a spiral and coming to a stop at your finger, you lifted your eyes at them feeling nervous “you don’t have to it’s ok..” Madison called seeing the distress in your eyes.

You nodded but decided to go with everyone’s advice and opened the bottle, the bitter taste of beer slipped through your throat while everyone cheered, you didn’t really known why everyone liked it but decided to finish the bottle of intoxicating liquid.

But one led to more, and different drinks secretly mixed with vodka and before you knew it you were helplessly drunk, you really couldn’t hold your alcohol.

“Oh I looooove this song!” You cheered drunkly and grabbed your friend’s arms and dragged them to the back yard, if you were completely honest, you were dizzy and barely kept yourself up but nonetheless you all danced like crazy in the Christmas lights.

The song echoed in your brain and you could feel the base pounding in your head, the smell of alcohol and sweat flowing over your head and your eyesight became a little blurry to the colorful decoration.

“Y/n you’re completely drunk!” Adam called as he tried, with others, to protect you from the horny teenagers.

Bridget grabbed your cup away from you and even though you tried to protest she insisted on cutting you off.

As the night went on you found yourself laughing uncontrollably at the stupidest moments, from the way someone danced to the splash some idiotic teenager caused by jumping from the roof. Your clothes were a slight wet from the the splashing water and you let a slight squeal as the wind that cooled the fabric, sending shivers to your body. ‘what a bunch of idiots’ you giggled as other joined him in the pool, some still fully dressed.

The songs changed repeatedly and you kept on dancing, maybe not so appropriate for a girl your age, and that’s maybe why they were all intrigued.

The three boys from your group protected you and your slightly drunk friends like elder brothers and pushed away the jocks around them.

“Y/n!” Jack called as a few of your friends went to sit down, fearing of leaving you alone he stayed close to you. “Where did you learned those moves?” He asked innocently while you glued your back at his chest, your arms hugging the back of his neck as he placed his hands on your waist, suddenly understanding why everyone wanted to sleep with you.

“Ok that’s enough for you.” You heard a familiar and quite angered voice and before you knew it you were snatched from the strange student hands “P-Peter..?” You mumbled quietly opening your eyes waiting for the black shadows to disappear from your sight as you drunkly scanned his face, he was completely pale, his hair falling perfectly over his forehead while his jaw was clenched tightly, revealing the true meaning of a sharp jaw line. He had this green fire hidden in his darkened eyes that made you believe that he was..jealous.

“What the fuck man!” The teenager yelled, luckily the music was loud enough to hide his loud growl. “Back off!” Peter hissed and placed a hand over your waist, trying to balance your wobbly walking “We were just dancing!” The jock called cockily. “Touch her again and I will—“ he wanted to threat the large figure in front of him but was quick to resign noticing your devilish looks were trying to escape his gaze.

“let’s go y/n.” He ordered coldly grabbing you closer to you, “fuck off” You blubbered and he shook his head desperately “Stop it come on” “No! You’re not the boss of me! You’re just a stupid fucking intern who does my dad’s dirty work!” You yelled causing a few people to turn to you “and besides what do you care?! you hate me!” You pushed him and got away from his grip and turned to your friends who rushed to your aid seeing your angered face. “I uh I don’t h-hate you..” Peter grabbed you by your waist preventing you from falling, he pulled you closer and you felt your knees buckle as the scent of his shampoo hit you, or maybe it was the alcohol. “lies! I’m going—” “no you’re not.” He whispered, his tone unclear in your ears as he pulled you by him once again.

“hey! What the hell do you think your doing?!” Aaron came next to you and swung his arm over your shoulder and pushing Peter away with his free arm “Taking her home.”

Peter stated coldly and reached for your hand, you froze, for a moment you were completely sober and felt yourself blushing, his hand was gentle and perfectly intertwined with yours, you suddenly could see clearly and his looks were pure caring and protection, your heart beat fastened and it wasn’t the unwanted attention you received that made your stomach flip with excitement.

“Not a chance.” Adam argued, obviously he didn’t know Peter and only knew him by his famous nickname “Look her dad asked me to do so.” “Yeah. no.” He rolled his eyes in disbelief and tried to pull you away, but it wasn’t only Peter’s grip that was stopping you, you didn’t want to let go if him.

“Fuck you aren’t you her boyfriend?! you supposed to make sure she isn’t drinking!” He yelled angered, you never heard him yelling before, it was strangely both scary and intriguing.

“What?” “J-just forget it.” You slipped through Adam’s arm and came closer to the curly headed boy, a slight smile was tugging his lips as you leaned in closer, “y/n..” he whispered blushing trying his hardest to stay serious as your face was getting extremely close to his “oh Peter lighted up! Come dance with me” you begged “we need to go..” he insisted as you leaned in “Show me your moves for once!” You whispered in his ear, teasing the flustered boy as a remix of a familiar song made your heart pound, little did you notice the amount of people that came closer to you with thier phone flashing at your direction.

“y/n. Home. Now.” “Huh?” You turned around to see your father angered face, he placed a firm hand over your shoulder and dragged you outside pushing away PDA action in his way.

“We said no drinking!” “Oh as if you don’t drink!” You argued carelessly as you escaped the house, Peter’s feet jogging after you “The difference is that I am an adult!” He whispered angrily as he opened the door for you “Come on it’s a one time thing anyways!” You huffed staring at the cursed bracelet before lifting yor eyes just in time to catch your father’s frown dart at you “As hell it was because you’re grounded!” He barked, slightly scaring you but you won’t show it. “Mr. Stark—“ “not now Peter!” You both yelled at the curly headed figure who sat next to a very annoyed driver.

“You know what this is so unfair!” You whined, it was just a one time and it wasn’t you full fault how could you know that someone put liquid in freaking orange juice! “Why huh? Why is it unfair?! Because I don’t want my underaged daughter going to parties in two in the morning drinking and—“ his eyes were a mixture of anger, love and fear.

Though you did want to argue your voice was caught in your throat and suddenly your stomach began hurting, sickening feeling rising with every turn the cautious driver took. “Happy st-top the car..” you broke your father’s loud words with a small whisper causing the whole car to go quiet, “what?” He questioned not sure what to do with your angered father in the back seat.

“P-please s-stop th—e car..” you begged feelings tears glossing your y/c/e eyes for no apparent reason. Your stomach ached and the bitter taste of beer fought it’s way back up your throat as the car came to a halt.

You struggled with the car door handle and tripped outside. placing your hands over your knees even though you felt weak, Peter rushed from his side of the car to come and hold your hair as he pitied your state, you’ve thrown up every bit of the liquor from your body along side with a few of the snacks you ate at the party… and that’s the last thing you remembered.

Because the next thing you knew it was morning and you were in your bed with fresh clothes and smeared makeup.

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