pr3ttyfac3jaelyn

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

Chapter Two: The Offer

I woke up to chaos.

My phone was blowing up.

Texts. DMs. Voicemails. People I hadn't talked to since high school suddenly wanted to know how long I'd been "seeing Michael B. Jordan."

Spoiler: I wasn't.

But try telling that to the internet.

By noon, I was a meme.

'Me when Michael B. Jordan randomly chooses me as his girlfriend. #Goals'

'Sis, how did you do it? Drop the skincare routine AND the manifestation playlist.'

Tasha, of course, was loving every second of it.

"Girl, you went viral overnight," she squealed, scrolling through Twitter like it was her personal victory lap. "People are obsessed with you."

I groaned, pulling the covers over my head. "They don't even know me."

"Exactly. Which is why you need to get up, put on something cute, and meet me for coffee before the vultures show up at your apartment."

She wasn't wrong.

When I finally stumbled into the overpriced coffee shop down the street, Tasha was already waiting — with company.

Two people in sharp suits sat at the table across from her, all smiles.

PR smiles.

Fake smiles.

"You're Rae," the woman said, standing to shake my hand. "I'm Sylvia. This is Nate. We're with Michael's team."

"I—okay?" I blinked, glancing at Tasha. She shrugged like you're welcome.

"Let's get to the point," Nate said smoothly, sliding a folder across the table. "We'd like to make you an offer."

I stared at the folder like it might explode. "What kind of offer?"

Sylvia's smile sharpened.

"A fake dating arrangement. Short term. Clean. Mutually beneficial."

I blinked.

"You want me to pretend to date him?"

"Exactly." Nate nodded. "You'd accompany him to key events, post a few curated photos, play the part. In return, we compensate you generously and handle all the... media noise."

My jaw dropped.

"You guys do this often?" I asked, both horrified and fascinated.

"More than you think," Sylvia said, not missing a beat. "It helps keep the brand... appealing. And last night? The chemistry was undeniable. The public's eating it up."

Tasha elbowed me. "Told you you had main character energy."

I ignored her.

"This is insane," I said, though my eyes were already betraying me by glancing at the number written in the contract. The contract stared back at me — page after page of legal jargon, appearances, social media guidelines, and most importantly... the paycheck.

It was... a lot of zeroes.

Rent-paying zeroes.

Debt-erasing zeroes.

Michael B. Jordan's pretend girlfriend zeroes.

"This... this is insane," I breathed, half horrified, half intrigued.

"Standard practice in the industry," Sylvia said without flinching. "It helps keep the brand... appealing. And last night? The chemistry was undeniable. The public's already romanticizing it."

Michael B. Jordan might not know it, but the universe had just handed me the most ridiculous, out-of-body life twist ever.

Tasha elbowed me. "Told you you had main character energy."

I ignored her.

"So what happens when the public realizes it's fake?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Damage control is our specialty," Nate assured smoothly. "By the time the contract ends, they'll have moved on to the next scandal."

"And if I say no?" I challenged, mostly for my own pride.

Sylvia's smile didn't waver. "Nothing. But you'll probably want to move... and delete your socials."

She wasn't wrong.

My face was everywhere.

"You'd be in control," Nate added. "All appearances, interviews, and public moments would be cleared with you first. You get final say on... everything."

That almost made me feel like a human again.

Almost.

"Take the night to think about it," Sylvia said, standing. "We'll expect your answer by noon tomorrow."

They handed me a business card, their smiles tight and professional.

And just like that, they were gone.

I slumped into the chair, still gripping the folder like it might vanish.

Tasha grinned, sipping her latte. "Girl. If you don't say yes... I swear to God, I will."

"I don't even like celebrities," I groaned.

"But your student loans like you, and they don't care if you fake-date a movie star."

She had a point.

I stared at the contract.

What was the worst that could happen, right?

Right?

Tasha grinned. "Girl, if you don't say yes... I swear to God I will."

⸻

END OF CHAPTER TWO.💕

( This is how Rae look)

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

When your best friend drags to a charity gala, you accidentally get mistaken for Michael B. Jordan's girlfriend... and he goes along with it.

Now, the media loves you, his PR team wants to extend the lie, and the more you pretend, the harder it is to tell what's fake... and what's not. Please enjoy Rae and Micheal Story.

Michael B. Jordan x OC Female

Rae Spurlock: Sarcastic, fiercely independent, art teacher who hates the spotlight. Family-focused, stubborn, has a soft spot for underdogs and old school romance.

Michael B Jordan : Charming but guarded. Tired of fake Hollywood relationships. Secretly craves someone who sees him — not the celebrity.

Chapter One: Crashing the Spotlight

I hated galas.

The pretentious small talk. The overpriced wine. The suffocating gowns that made me feel like a cupcake wrapped in glitter.

"Loosen up, Rae," my best friend, Tasha, whispered as she adjusted her headset. "You look like you're about to punch the next person who offers you a canapé."

"I might," I muttered, eyeing the sea of designer labels and perfect smiles. "Remind me again why I'm your plus-one to this chaos?"

"Because I organized the chaos, and I need backup. Also..." She leaned in with a wicked grin. "There's a 90% chance you'll see a celebrity meltdown. Live."

I rolled my eyes. "Hard pass."

Famous people weren't my thing. They lived on another planet — one where heartbreak looked good on magazine covers.

But fate had other plans.

Because the universe, with all its twisted humor, waited until I was balancing a tray of tiny shrimp skewers (which I definitely wasn't supposed to touch), before sending me barreling into the chest of Michael. B. Freaking. Jordan.

Cool. Cool. Cool.

My brain shut down.

He was taller in person. Sharper. His suit looked like it cost more than my apartment, and his smile could short-circuit the entire female population.

"Oh my God, I'm—" I fumbled, trying to step back, but the tray wobbled, and my heel caught on the carpet.

Perfect.

Michael caught me by the waist, smooth as a damn rom-com hero. His grip was warm, steady... way too steady.

"Whoa. You good?" His voice was deeper than it sounded in interviews. Like velvet dipped in sin.

Kill me now.

"Fine. Totally fine." I wrenched myself free, cheeks on fire. "Sorry. I wasn't looking."

"That's obvious," someone snickered nearby. Probably his entourage.

Paparazzi cameras were already snapping.

"Who's your date, Mike?" A reporter shouted.

I froze. Date?

Michael glanced at me — his eyes scanning my flushed face, the tray, the chaos I'd just created. And then...

He smiled. A sly, PR-perfect smile.

"This is Rae," he said, like we were old news. "My date."

I blinked.

WHAT.

Tasha's jaw hit the floor across the room.

The cameras loved it.

And just like that, I was sucked into a headline I never asked for.

Oh, Rae? We didn't know you two were... seeing each other," the reporter pressed.

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. My brain was still buffering.

Michael leaned closer, whispering in my ear — his breath sending dangerous chills down my neck.

"Just go with it," he murmured, his smile never faltering.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed under my breath, keeping my lips plastered into a fake smile for the cameras.

"Saving you," he replied smoothly. "Or would you rather they report 'Mystery Woman Makes Fool of Herself in Front of MBJ'?"

Fair point.

I swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as flashes continued. My face was going to be on some gossip blog by sunrise.

"I owe you a drink," Michael added loud enough for the nearby crowd to hear.

You owe me a new life, I thought.

"Fine," I gritted through my smile.

And just like that, I was sucked into a headline I never asked for.

He guided me — still in character — toward the VIP lounge like this was totally normal. Like I was totally normal.

Spoiler: I was not.

"Okay, you can drop the act now," I whispered once we were out of earshot.

Michael let out a low chuckle, dropping the polished movie star smile for something more... real.

"Who said it was an act?"

I blinked.

He grinned. "Relax, Rae. PR move. You just saved me from having to explain why I showed up solo again."

I folded my arms. "Great. And I get... what? The honor of being a human prop?"

He tilted his head, amused. "You're more fun than most dates I've had, if that helps."

It didn't.

But I'd be lying if my heart didn't do something stupid when he looked at me like that.

"Anyway," he continued, pulling out his phone, "my PR team's probably already running with this. You might want to check your socials."

I groaned, bracing myself.

Sure enough, Tasha texted me a screenshot.

'Michael B. Jordan's mystery date steals the show at NYC gala!'

Kill me.

This night was only getting worse.

End Of Chapter 1 💕

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

Y/N: *on the phone* Tony? I need your help! I-

Tony: Is the compound on fire?

Y/N: ...no?

Tony: Then, it’s not an emergency *hangs up*

Peter: Well? What did he say? What do we do about the portal to hell in the living room?

Y/N: *shrugs* Apparently it’s not an emergency

Kate: *being strangled by a demon* HOW THE FUCK IS THIS NOT AN EMERGENCY??

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

The forgotten child

Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker

Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)

Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him

a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!

you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.

always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.

all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.

but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.

you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time

you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.

you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.

you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.

it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.

your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.

"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.

"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.

"Becoming like my son."

once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.

you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.

"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.

you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.

you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.

a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

Heya this is kind of Robb Stark but more of a friendship one where y/n is Robbs wife (Robert Baratheons only real child and is very nice a sweet and was in a arranged marriage to Robb but fell In love. She is famous for being beautiful has songs written about her and all that jazz)and it’s when Caytlen comes to camp with Brienne of Tarth and y/n is kind of amazed by her and finds her very beautiful. They end up having a conversation where y/n compliments her but Brienne thinks she’s joking but y/n is quick to correct her. y/n gives her a very encouraging speech about how she admires her . Not that Brienne would show it but she’s very touched by it and grows a soft spot for y/n just a very nice moment. If you don’t do these types of pens that’s fine ❤️

Queen in the North and South

Main Pairing: Platonic Brienne x f!reader

Second Pairing: Romantic Robb x f!reader

Summary: Brienne and the reader discuss to pros and cons of beauty and where to find it

Warnings: Mentions of creepy men

Word count: 2842

Masterlist Here

When you first arrived at Winterfell you were hesitant of your new life being forced upon you but soon grew to love it. In Kingslanding you had felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You didn’t share the same Lannister locks with your siblings nor your mother’s affiliation with wine. As your father’s oldest child, he adored you but as you grew, he began to show you off and flaunt you to the lords around.

“Gather round my lords and see the greatest beauty in all of Westeros!” He would cheer drunk on his ale and those around would join in. over time you learned to hide your embarrassment at the attention, and the glares your mother would give you for it and smiled politely. Men would come to court simply to play the songs they wrote for you, or lords would attempt to rhyme off pretty sonnets in your honour. It felt nice to be loved but as you grew you noticed the lust in many eyes and began to feel disgust.

But you smiled politely like you did when you first met Robb. He was of course very handsome himself; a true Tully look about him with all the Stark courage and honour. However, you tried not to obsess over looks like many had done with you and insisted on getting to know him as a person.

As it turned out Robb was more interesting than you first assumed however far too trusting of people. Something you tried to educate him on. Robb was just relieved that his wife was not just a pretty face, not that he complained about your looks since he adored them. Once you were wed you began to talk late into the night, discussing opinions and having debates. even when you told him his opinion was wrong, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you delivered the punch line.

You had learned one thing from your mother and that was that you wanted to be the opposite of her in every way. In Kingslanding you would often venture into the city to teach the small folk how to read or hear their folktales. It was how you first heard the songs they sang about you. The beauty of all the kingdoms. That’s what they called you and it meant so much more from then that it did the lords at court.

In Winterfell you spent time meeting and talking to everyone and anyone you could. Often you played hide and seek with the younger Starks and Sansa flocked to you like a mother hen. You also managed to gain the favour of many lords and ladies in the North as the South had taught you what to say and how.

When Ned Stark died it was not just the Young Wolf they rode out for and died for. It was you. While northerners cheered for Robb to be their king, Kingslanding silently begged for you their true queen to return and take the throne from your monster of a brother. You had even received letters from Dorne backing your claim. The king in the north and queen in the south.

However, you weren’t the only one who had a claim, a claim you had yet to announce you were fighting for to the world. Renly Baratheon also believed himself king. You couldn’t understand your uncles reasoning in the slightest. Stannis’s claim was the only logical one if Joffrey was a bastard and the lords sought a king not a queen. Why not join Stannis as his heir? Then you could never quite understand your uncle.

You hoped Lady Catelyn would however when she left to see his camp. Robb had insisted you did not go meet your uncle personally. While you had not announced your claim many rumours flew around about it and Robb was not prepared to send his wife off to a camp filled with your rivals’ men. Despite your marriage being a political one it had grown into love and admiration for each other. Little did Tywin know that it was not politically wise for him when he suggested it to your father who jumped at the chance to join houses with the Starks.

Every night she was gone you prayed for Catelyn’s return and your men’s safety so when you saw her arrive back at camp you began to thank them profusely. However, she returned with an extra man at her side. Or woman you should say.

Brienne of Tarth stood tall beside Catelyn, her hand always close to her sword. You were tending to the wounded when she arrived and did not have time to meet her just yet but as you gazed at her from across the camp you saw her eyes turn to you. when your eyes met you smiled and gave her a small wave. She was beautiful. Not in the typical sense you knew. But she was.

Robb was the one to tell you more about her. “Wait she was in his Kings guard? Like a knight?” You asked as you walked with your husband to the food area of your camp.

“Not a knight darling,” Robb had his hand linked with yours which kept your other free to wave to the Lords and soldiers who waved at you. even during war, they admired your elegance. “But she was his guard apparently. She beat Loras Tyrell in the tourney,”

“That couldn’t have been hard,” you joked, “that boy was all spindly legs when I saw him last,”

“He’s one of the best knights in the Kingdom,” Robbs laughed made your stomach flutter the same way it had the first night you met, “I don’t even know if I believe that she did,”

“I can believe it,”

“You see the good in everyone love,”

You snorted at his words as you took a bowl of stew from one of the men, “No,” you retorted as Robb got his own, raising an eyebrow at your words, “I just don’t announce my distrust to the world. Have I taught you noting?” you teased.

Robb rolled his eyes with a smile. You glanced over to where Brienne was sat alone and foodless. “You wanna go sit with her, don’t you?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Go on, make some friends,” Robb chuckled as he handed you another bowl of stew to give to the woman, “I’m gonna go eat with Lord Karstarks to talk battle plans,”

“Okay have fun, if that’s possible,” You grinned. Robb rolled his eyes before pressing a brief kiss to your lips and walking away.

You turned your attention to Brienne who was whitling a piece of wood with a knife. You smiled and nodded to all the men as you walked across the camp to where she sat on a log. “May I join you lady Brienne?” you smiled as you held out the bowl to her.

Brienne looked up quickly, her eyes wide, “It’s just Brienne. I’m no lady. I’m sure you would enjoy someone else’s company more your grace,” she said. You held the bowl out further his she finally took, “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” you said before sitting on the log beside her, Brienne looking at you as if she had three heads, “I thought your father was lord tarth?” you mused as you began to eat your stew, handing Brienne a spare spoon for hers.

Her eyes faltered between yours and the food, “Um he is,” she started as she turned her attention to stare into the camp, “I am a lady by birth right your grace but not by actions,”

“Life would be far more interesting if there were more ladies like you,”

“You don’t know me your grace,”

“Then what do I need to know?” you asked as you set your spoon down. “I’m all ears,”

Reluctantly Brienne began to tell you her life so far though not the personal bits of course. She told you how she found herself at Renly’s camp, how she fought for him, swore an oath to him, and became a king’s guard. You laughed at her stories, a genuine laugh that touched Brienne as you actually seemed to care. perhaps it was fake she thought. Perhaps that’s why people sang songs about you.

None the less she decided to enjoy your company at least for dinner, “It was about time someone knocked down Loras a leg or two. When I was eight, he spilled his father’s wine all down my dress because I told him his hair was ugly,”

Brienne couldn’t stop herself from laughing at your antics, “Maybe you shouldn’t have insulted him,”

“Oh, im sure he started it,” you joked as you set the now empty bowl on the ground, “if not him then it was defiantly Margaery. I refuse to accept it was my fault,” Normally Brienne would judge your words but the way you laughed made it clear unlike many you could handle a joke.

Something she appreciated as you laughed at hers. “I must say your grace you’re not what I expected from the songs,”

You groaned at her words, “Oh gods what do they sing about me over there?”

Brienne laughed at your fake agony, “Just the usual. That you’re beautiful and kind,”

“Have I offended you?” you joked turning to face her straight on, “Have I not been kind?”

Brienne flushed at your words, “Forgive me your grace. It’s just most Ladies I know aren’t as kind as you,”

“Or you,” you agreed, “Then again, I’ve never met another lady like you. it’s refreshing honestly. And for the record I hate those songs,” You confessed your longest running lie to a stranger, but Brienne moral code was stronger than the Starks.

“How can you hate being called beautiful?” she asked, and you could feel the resentment from her. the same feeling you got from many other ladies who would push you as a child or gossip about you as an adult.

You sighed as you placed your arms on your knees to lean forward, thinking before you spoke, “When Robb calls me beautiful I feel a warm feeling in me that spreads across me like a love struck plague,” you began, recalling the butterflies you had felt the first time he kissed your hand when you met. “The first time I heard one of those songs yes sure it made me feel good. Then I saw the way the lords would look at me. Then I heard what they sang and said when they thought I wasn’t around. They didn’t view me as a person,” you sighed as you recalled all the pervy comments and creepy stares.

“Im sorry you had to deal with that my lady,” Brienne placed her hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You turned your head to look at her and sat back up, “it’s not your fault. Besides everyone’s beautiful in their own way,” you mused.

Brienne barked out a laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong my lady,”

“You can find beauty everywhere. All you need to do is look,” you said as you looked out over the camp. “See him over there? With the dried blood covering his face?” you nodded towards one of the Karstarks boys and Brienne couldn’t help but noted how the battles must have harmed his face, “He has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Better than all the singers in Kingslanding and him,” you nodded towards another unassuming man by the fire, “Whittles these wooden figures that have so much detail and grace in every carving. Even him,” you nodded at the most closed off, grumpy one of your fighters who constantly looked ready to spit on someone, “has the biggest most beautiful smile when he laughs. Just because you can’t see the beauty at first glance doesn’t mean it’s not there,”

Brienne looked around the camp at all the different men and how they spoke, laughed, and moved. “Do you know all of your men?” she asked.

“I try to,” you answered as you took both your dirty dishes to take to be washed but one of your men stopped you to take them from you, “Thank you lord Umber,” you smiled at him before turning back to Brienne, “People respond far better to kindness than cruelness,”

“It’s a shame that most find it easier to be cruel than kind,” Brienne said as you both continued to walk around the camp. She enjoyed your company more than she’d like to admit.

You glanced to where Catelyn sat alone with her food in deep thought, “Hurt people hurt. While it does dismiss their actions it can help to explain them,”

“I suppose,” Brienne agreed, “But it’s hard not to hate them for it,”

“I know. trust me,” you said as you linked your arm with the woman who flinched initially at your touch. However, Brienne found comfort in the way you held her arm as you guided her around camp. “The sky’s so beautiful tonight,” you broke the comfortable silence.

“It is,” Brienne paused as she thought. She wanted to ask but worried you would think her weird. “Can you truly see the beauty in everything?” she asked. Brienne was mocked constantly growing up for her looks and how she acted. Men flinched when they saw her, but you looked at her with deep admiration.

“Everyone can. If they take the time,” you knew what she was thinking without her saying. You heard your own men mock her in the shadows and how they laughed. Some people were cruel, but you refused to be to those who had done nothing to deserve it. “I used to dream of knights as a child,” Brienne raised an eyebrow as you began your tangent. “Of how they rode their horses with such expertise and how they didn’t even have to look to know where their knife was about to strike. I used to admire their honour and their duty. Of course, I also dreamed about their armour and how imposing it made them look. I wanted to surround myself with them so that the men in their armour and imposing nature would protect me out of honour and morality.

Those dreams died the first time a knight made a pass at me at 14,” Brienne screwed her face up at the idea that anyone, any man, would dream of hurting you, “I remember how his head rolled off his body when my father executed him for it. so, I stopped dreaming of knights,” You stopped walking to turn to Brienne, taking her hands in yours. Your hands were soft and tender while hers were rough and scarred, “You however are the truest knight I have ever met. And that Brienne is far more beautiful than hair of black silk or just another pretty face. You’re the most handsome, beautiful knight I have ever laid my eyes upon so don’t let silly boys ruin what you see in the mirror,”

Tears lined Brienne eyes, but she had taught herself not to let them fall even when you gave her hands a gentle squeeze, “I am no knight my lady,”

“Not yet,” you said as you removed your hands from hers, “But when I am queen, I will make sure you are,”

Brienne had already sworn her loyalty to Renly but her king was dead and now she was stood before someone equally as kind as he had been to her, “You would make a fine queen your grace of the north or the south,” You smiled at her words, “But what of your brother?” she asked.

“That boy is the cruellest person I have ever met,” you said as you stared off into the distance, “He will only be beautiful when he is dead,”

Brienne had assumed by your appearance you knew nothing of politics and war but as she saw your jaw clench and your eyes gaze into the distance, she knew she had been wrong. The sound of her unsheathing her sword brought your attention back to her and you could hear the camp go silent at her actions. Your men’s hands flew to their own sword hilts as they watched her but relaxed slightly when Brienne went on one knee, holding her sword out to you, “It would be my honour to serve you your grace,” Brienne said, “As queen in the north and in the south,”

You smiled at her words, a genuine smile of love and compassion, “You honour me greatly Brienne of Tarth,” your hand came to rest on her shoulder, “When the war is won and Kingslanding has been saved and Ned Stark avenged I will have you knighted before the iron throne before the gods and the realm,”

Brienne looked up at you, her eyes wet with happy tears. You smiled down at her with love and sincerity, something even Renly’s eyes failed to offer at times. “A good day that’ll be your grace,”

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

*Sighs* All the time 😩

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

My Current Mood ❤️

[pr3ttyfac3jaelyn]

Reblog if you’re black tumblr

and yes you have to be black, this isn’t an all access typa club