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sophie-looks-at-things · 10 months ago

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A Wolf in the Dragon's Den

Pairing: Aemond x Stark reader

Summary: The Greens have won The Dance of Dragons, and your family has offered your hand to Prince Aemond as a means of forgiveness for your part in the war. But what shall happen when a wolf meets a dragon in its den?

Warnings: SMUT, mdni 18+, p in v, kind of mean Aemond? but he gets better lol, Aegon being Aegon, use of pet names like Little Wolf or My Dragon, fingering, soft to rough sex, uhhh language for sure haha if I missed anything let me know y'all!! It's also not proof read so forgive any mistakes haha

AN: Well ... sorry this took me so long y'all! I guess my summer classes caught up to me a bit but that's ok cause after long last here it is!! A good old-fashioned Aemond x Stark reader fic. I hope you guys enjoy haha, I'm working on a request next, but let me know if there's anything else y'all wanna see! :)

King’s Landing was a hot, humid, fish-smelling shit hole. The warm temperatures were much too hot for your usual furs, heavy cloaks, and skirts. Even your horses were succumbing to the heat, panting more than usual, the poor things. You could have rode in the carriage, along with your mother and younger siblings. But you preferred horseback, the wind in your hair, and the breeze on your skin. Although, the air here was salty and thick.

Your father and brother, Cregan, rode beside you. “Hells, could it be any hotter,” your father murmured under his breath, sweat beading on his brow.

“Those vapid Targaryen’s couldn’t bear it any other way, something about the ‘dragon’s blood–”

“Careful brother, they could have your head for that–” You chuckled a bit, but you all knew there was truth to the statement. The Dance of Dragons had proved as much, the Greens' force and display of violence was wide and plentiful. “Rash and brash” as your father had put it once. Especially that of your betrothed, Prince Aemond One-eye Targaryen. Or “the one-eyed cunt” as many northerners took to calling him. The betrothal, much to your dismay, had been arranged by your father, in a weak attempt to repair your house's relationship with the monarch.

“Hmph, well if I had my way we wouldn’t even be here at all. Those ‘dragons’ wouldn’t survive a damn minute in the North. Their blood would freeze, and then maybe we’d all be rid of their problems.” Cregan said the word “dragons” with a mocking tone, a scoff in his voice.

“That’s enough, your sister is right boy, they would have your head for that. Or perhaps feed you to one of their dragon’s” And with that, your father put an end to that potentially treasonous conversation. Cregan however, had muttered something under his breath about “told you to stop calling me boy”.

Having had enough of the bickering, you tapped the sides of your horse, trotting ahead by several paces. Your dire wolf, Snowcap, had evidently decided to part temporarily from the group, to hunt or to shade herself you didn’t know. But you couldn’t blame her either way, the journey from the Winterfell to King’s Landing was a long one, and not a particularly comfortable one.

The gates to the Red Keep came into site ahead of you, the streets leading up to it peppered with Gold Cloaks and guards. The people of King’s Landing pay little mind to your small party, too busy with their buying and selling. You had chosen to travel light, there were no copious amounts of banners flying, or any regalia at all really. You would be surrounded by plenty of that kind of thing soon enough.

To say that your greeting was lackluster, would be an understatement. Ser Criston Cole stood beside the Dowager Queen Alicent atop the Red Keep’s stairs. Besides another dozen or so Gold Cloaks, that was what there was. Cregan scoffs in annoyance from beside you, he must have caught up to you somewhere along the way.

“He cannot even come to meet his bride-to-be, what a disrespect, pathetic,” You made a bit of a noise beside him, urging him to keep his mouth shut. You were in the dragon’s den now, who knows who could be listening in? Another glance around the unfamiliar faces does confirm your brother’s statement. Your betrothed was nowhere to be found. Even the training yard remained empty, and from what you’d heard, Prince Aemond could often be found there.

As you dismount your horse, Queen Alicent begins to make her way down the steps, towards you and the rest of your family. Your father and eldest brother move to stand to your left and right. Your mother and younger siblings finally join you, to your left. Your mother gives you a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder as she moves to stand beside your father. You curtsey as the Queen approaches, she takes your hand in hers. Her palms are soft and warm, gentleness radiates from her person.

“My Lady Stark, how nice it is to finally see you arrive. I hope the journey south wasn’t too unpleasant” She gives you a small smile, not as lovely as your mother’s, but kind nonetheless.

“It was alright, long, very long, but alright,” You say, matching her smile. Queen Alicent releases your hand and carries on to greet the rest of your family, Ser Criston following closely behind her. Still no sign of your betrothed, nor his elder brother, the King. Although you supposed he must be occupied with his duties on the Small Council. You know you will hear an earful from your brother later on the matter. Had Creagn been born a Lady, he would indeed circulate most of the gossip around Court.

— — — — —

The Red Keep was massive in comparison to your expectations of its size. The halls appear more like an intricate intertwining of mazes rather than passageways. Your footsteps echo and reverberate off of the stones. Tapestries depicting great moments in Targaryen history line the walls. Lit torches line the halls, the windows, and the arches looking out onto bustling the city below. Servants, guards, and other nobles wondered about, gossiping, rushing to and fro. Ladies, lords, and servants alike whispered to one another as you and your family walked by, being led by Ser Cristin and the Queen.

It was no secret that your brother had sent Northeners and Graybeards to fight in Rhaenyra’s name. “Fight like Northerners they will,” your brother had said once. And they did indeed, the bitter cold and long winters having hardened them into mighty soldiers and fighters. Barbarians, some called them. Your father had handed over the duties of Winterfell to Cregan as he grew older. Your father had hardly left the North in all his years of life, but he had become confused and temperamental in his older age. It had ultimately been Cregan’s choice to join the Blacks, a decision he is now trying to repair. Or it would be more accurate to say you were trying to repair. Since you were a wolf being offered up to the dragons for slaughter. Perhaps the only reason that the Greens hadn’t burned down Winterfell, and your family around with it, is because they know the importance of your family to Westeros. And if the North falls, we all fall, and no one knew the North better than the Starks.

As you continue on your walk through the winding halls of the Red Keep, you finally come to stand before a set of doors. Modest in comparison to some of the others you’ve passed by. Metal filigree winds its way up from the handles like vines, the rest of the door was rather lackluster. Ser Cristin steps forward, dutifully opening the doors for your party.

There in the middle of the small council room, stood your betrothed. After long last you finally laid eyes on your betrothed. Aemond stood proud and tall, his long silver hair pulled back into one thick braid, tied together at the bottom with a strip of black leather. His back was turned towards you, hands clasped behind him. He was dressed in what appeared to be his riding gear, perhaps he had just come back from a flight with Vhagar.

“Aemond, there you are. You missed the arrival of your betrothed,” Alicent chided her son, who could not be less interested in the conversation at hand.

“Mhm,” He hummed, “I was–” He paused thinking, “ –busy”. From beside you, you can hear Cregan scoff a bit. Your mother puts a warning hand against his back, he was never one for formalities. But then again, most Northerners weren’t. The Prince finally turned towards your party. The famous leather eye patch covering the sapphire in his socket. The faint pink lines of his scar peeked out on either end of the patch. He’s beautiful, you think, in a macabre sort of way, but beautiful nonetheless. He looked ethereal standing there, backlight from the evening sun shining through the windows.

His lavender eye rakes itself over your form, as your mother pushes you forward a bit, to better meet his gaze. He lets out another hum, of approval, or disapproval, you cannot tell. A cord of annoyance strikes through you, not having the wherewithal to be subjected to such petty scrutiny.

Alicent places a guiding hand on your waist, walking you forward, closer to the One-eyed Prince. You curtsey once you reach him, the lessons your mother taught you as a girl kicking in and taking over.

“I did not know you Northerners were capable of such manners,” Aemond scoffed as he said this as if he was telling a bad joke. Your teeth grind together, hands clenching into fists in your skirts. Behind you you can hear the scuffle of footsteps, and then a halt. Presumably, your brother acting out again, or perhaps your father this time. Typically, your family wouldn’t care much about appearances, but you were all treading on thin ice, and you knew it.

Rising back up to your full height, which annoyingly still made you have to look up at him, you say: “We are rather steeped in our traditions in the North my Prince. We value honor decency, and the truth of one's word,” You glare at him through your lashes as you say this last bit. If it were not for the threat upon your entire house and bannermen then you would not be here, wolves were not creatures made to bow, even in the face of a dragon.

Surprisingly, Aemond lets out a hardy laugh. You chance a glance over at his mother, she looks to be just as stunned as the rest of you. Silence befalls the room.

“Smart mouth you have, huh, my Lady Stark?” He chuckles some more, then leans closer, intending his next words to only be for you. “Watch your tongue in my court, or I shall have it served to you on a platter at our wedding feast,” and with that, he straightens, and walks away. Yelling something over his shoulder about the training yard, and Ser Cole come with.

“I–” Alicent begins to say, but you cut her off, rather impolitely, “ It’s quite alright Your Grace,” You offer her a smile. You liked Alicent, the poor woman had been through enough as it is, and the arrogance of her son wasn’t any help. “I am just pleased to finally have arrived here at court, and to settle in at my new home,” It was most certainly a half-truth, but there was no need to make tensions rise any higher.

— — — — —

The following next few days were spent quite the same. Your little party with the guidance of Alicent took tours of the Red Keep as well as its many gardens and docks. One afternoon Alicent and Queen Helaena accompanied your mother and yourself down to one of the traveling markets of King’s Landing. It was rather grand, merchants coming from all across Westeros to sell their wares. Helaena had shown you a favorite merchant of hers, a man who made intricate gold and silver jewelry in the shapes of little bugs and small creatures. You had purchased a ring depicting the head of a dire wolf.

Aemond had remained illusive, he only graced everyone with his presence at meals. Choosing to sit far away from you, his brother, the King, talking about who knows what was next to him, but all the while his lavender eye remained fixed on you. It made you squirm a bit, being under his heavy gaze. Overthinking how you raised your fork to your lips, or where you held your cup of wine, on the stem or the rim as you’d always done.

With your wedding on the morrow, your nerves became more frayed than usual. Your mind is plagued with silly thoughts like: Will he think I’m pretty? Will he learn to love me? But as soon as those thoughts enter they are replaced with others such as: Why should I care? He’s been nothing but unpleasant and rude. But the younger, little girl in you still hopes to have a fruitful marriage, one filled with respect and love. Much like that of your mother and father’s. Although you know now that that is an anomaly in this world.

Your night is filled with restless sleep. Your body follows a pattern of waking for an hour and then sleeping for another. The heat of King’s Landing did not aid in this, the covers bunched down by your feet as you tossed and turned. Shortly after the sun had risen, maids had burst into your room, wedding gown in hand. You spent the next couple of hours being dotted upon like the princess you were about to become.

It wasn’t a large service by any means, not that you minded. Something smaller and more intimate was more to your liking. Your father walked you up the long aisle to meet your soon-to-be husband. Aemond stood at the altar in the sept, his house cloak in his hands to drape around your shoulders. The closer you got to him the more you could see his eye attempt to devour your appearance. Surprisingly, he gently held your small hands in his. His fingers and palms were calloused from many hours of training with a sword, and flights upon Vhagar. He was a handsome man you thought, too bad his arrogance made him ugly. Perhaps a bit naively you thought, I can change that. But maybe it was just wishful thinking. Your mind already trying to fix something potentially broken.

Aemond’s lips touched yours, forever sealing your vows to one another. Unlike his hands, they were smooth and soft, and uncharacteristically gentle. He was a good kisser you think, but then again the only other boy you’d kissed was a farm hand back at Winterfell when you were much younger.

Aemond thought you were beautiful, the moment he laid eyes upon his Little Wolf he thought perhaps this union will not be one of suffering and strife. At least she will be pretty to fuck. As his lips touched yours in the sept in front of the Gods, he tasted honey and black tea. You smell like vanilla, spices, and what Aemond assumed fire to smell like. His hand came to fist in your hair, possessively anchoring you to him.

When you part you suck in a breath of air, cheeks red. Such a sultry kiss in front of your family and the Gods caused a rush of embarrassment to course through you. Aemond however, gave you a wicked smirk in response to the color in your cheeks. Still clutching your hand tightly in his, he guides his new bride down and out of the sept, to return to the Red Keep for the evening's festivities.

— — — — —

The great hall was filled with the aroma of cooked meats, potatoes, wine, and the heavy laughter of your party guests. Your mother and father sat with you and your new family at the head table, looking down slightly upon the rest of the partygoers. Where the ceremony may have been smaller, the feast after it was not. Several more houses and bannermen of your brother’s came to celebrate the historic union. Boltons, Lannisters, Freys, Greyjoys, Hightowers, and the like filled the hall. You chose to remain seated beside your new husband, the ever-dutiful wife. You knew and had seen many times how rowdy Northmen could become at such a venue. You preferred to keep your distance, although it was not unusual to find you dancing with your younger siblings back home at Winterfell.

By the looks of it, your brother had loosened up a bit, a tanker of ale clutched in one hand.

The king had joined him and the others closer in age for what looked to be some kind of drinking game. Meanwhile, Aemond’s hand absent-mindedly made its home on your thigh, stroking up and down. The gesture was a stark contrast to his previous words and actions.

“You have barely eaten wife,” He noted as he glanced at you, “You must be well full and ready for what I have planned for you.” The same small smirk crosses his lips once again. Leaving you with a funny feeling in your stomach. But you can’t help the small wave of heat that strikes your core. Your mother once told you that men can become rather possessive of their women, and it can be quite cumbersome most of the time. Restricting one's freedom, constantly wanting you in their presence, she had said to expect this with someone like Aemond. But she mentioned that sometimes, in the confines of your marital chambers, it can be very — riveting to lay with such a man. It wasn’t until now that you began to understand what she had meant.

“I am afraid I have no appetite, my lord husband. My nerves do not allow me to eat it seems,” Aemond’s gaze darkened at the use of the word “husband”. Prince Aemond was not a man who did anything halfway, if he were to do anything, it was to be done fully without exception. A wave of dark possession seeps into his gut. He had already claimed a dragon but now he wishes to claim a wolf too.

From across the hall, his thoughts are abruptly interrupted by his brother's drunken yelling.

“ – the bedding ceremony! Come now little brother it is time for the bedding ceremony,” Aemond’s fists clenched, the hand on your skirts bunching in the fabric. “Will you fuck her like a hound brother? Woof Woof hahaha,” The hall had fallen eerily silent. Aemond’s chair clatters to the ground from the force of his standing. From beside Aegon, you see your brother place his cup of ale on the table, hand reaching for his sword. Your father is already a step ahead of him, hand on the hilt of his dagger. Your mother goes to stand in front of your younger siblings, shielding them. If you had no appetite before you certainly don’t have one now, your hands had gone cold and clammy, your head feeling light at the insults thrown your way. From beside you, Alicent stands, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“That is enough Aegon,” She begins to say.

“Oh come now Mother it was only a jest. Can I not be proud of my little brother?” Alicent opens her mouth to respond but Aemond beats her to it.

“You can take your ‘jests’ down to your whores on the Steer of Silk but you will not speak in such a way in front of my wife, let alone her family.” His voice is dangerously calm, ready to snap, and bubble over into pure rage at any given moment.

“Always so uptight little brother, as if someone has shoved a stick up your ass–” It is your turn to stand now, the feet of your chair scrapping the stone floor beneath you.

“I am quite tired, husband will you escort me back to our chambers?” You look at Aemond, a stern, silent plea evident on your features.

“Certainly wife,” He responds with the same tantalizing calmness. Offering you his hand, which you take, grasping on tighter than perhaps necessary, you both make your way out of the great hall. Leaving the mess that is Aegon behind for someone else to clean up. It was your wedding day after all and you needn’t worry yourself with such matters.

The walk to your marital chambers is quiet and tense. Your hand still firmly grasping Aemond’s, although he now squeezes yours back. The heels of your shoes echo off of the palace walls in an attempt to keep up with Aemond’s long strides. After an eternity of uncertainty at what was to come next, you reach Aemond’s, and now your, chambers. The room is large and furnished quite cozily. A large four-poster bed makes its home in the center back wall of the room. A table of what looks like chess pieces and a map sits by the open windows.

Aemond however reaches for the pitcher of wine on another small side table, pouring a cup for himself and downing it in one go. He pours a second, and a third for you. He offers it to you, you shake your head, afraid you cannot stomach the drink after what had just happened.

“I am sorry–” You break the silence. Aemond raises a hand to silence you.

“It is I who should apologize. My brother is a foul and evil creature who feeds off of the discomfort of others. But never had he dared to do so so boldly before,” He pauses, taking a sip of wine. “I have been absent since you arrived at the Keep and I believe I owe you an explanation,”

You cross your arms over your chest, the air coming in from the harbor seeming chilly now. “Yes I do believe you do,” you say.

Aemond quirks an eyebrow at your sass, a small smile spreading across his lips. “They told me women of the North have sharp tongues and poor manners,” You scoff, his smile widens, “but I must say I’m rather enjoying that thus far.” He moves toward you, one hand still holding his cup of wine, the other reaching up to cup your chin, turning your face to meet his eye.

“I must admit that when I learned that your treacherous brother’s offered your hand to me I was quite – unnerved. I had no desire to marry, let alone marry a traitor,” A cord of anger courses through you, and Aemond notices this. He sets his cup down on the table next to you, the one with the chess pieces. Your eyes follow the movement, better taking in the contents of the table, a war game perhaps, you think.

“I didn’t want to be chained to a dull, meek little pup for the rest of my life,” His now free hand comes to rest on your hip, and his thumb and forefinger move from your chin, to trace the shape of your lips, then your jaw, and down the column of your neck. “But I must say, that you have certainly exceeded my expectations. I shall enjoy breeding you,” His alkaline nose moves to smell your hair, and you inhale a sharp gasp at the vulgarity of his words. You feel him smile into your neck as he continues his ministrations, placing the whisper of a kiss here and there.

“I do not understand you. You show me kindness, even apologizing for the acts of your brother, but then you insult me and my heritage. What is it that you want from me, Prince Aemond Targaryen?” You question him, hoping your voice comes out as steady as you command it. Aemond pulls back laughing, both hands now finding purchase on your hips, he begins to guide you backward towards the bed. The backs of your knees hit the wooden frame.

“Perhaps I wish to see how far I can push you Little Wolf. I enjoy your banter and wish to hear more of it. It pleases me that I’ve been matched to a woman who is not afraid to speak to me in such a way. People so quickly cower and whisper when I am near, it is refreshing to be met head-on.” His blunt statement surprises you, you had not expected such a confession from the Prince.

“Perhaps–” You pause, choosing your next words carefully, “ – perhaps then we can learn to love one another in this marriage.” You almost whisper the last bit, uncertainty in your voice.

“Yes, I think perhaps we can,” Aemond whispers back to you, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. The tension in the air is palpable, maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move. To see how far he could push you as he had said a moment ago. Deciding to test this hypothesis you stand on your tiptoes, slotting your lips against his, just as you did in the sept. A hungry growl leaves Aemond’s throat using his grip on your waist to pull you flush against his chest. He kisses you back with ferocity.

A hand grapes your throat, guiding you down towards the bed, your back hitting the feather mattress. You gasp against Aemond’s lips, swallowing the sound, he continues his assault. His hand against your throat tightened, although not unpleasantly, heat rushing to your core. His lips begin to retrace their path down your jaw and the column of your neck, biting and sucking red marks in their wake.

“Aemond– someone will see–” He parts from you only for a second, looking into your eyes.

“Let them, after all, isn’t that what my imputant brother wanted proof of our coupling? Perhaps it will give him something to pleasure himself to–” The thought makes Aemond’s cock harden impossibly more in his trousers. The fact that he could pleasure his wife to a level that his brother could only imagine, was nearly enough to drive him over the edge.

“Husband that is not reason enough to leave –” You're interrupted by a particularly sharp bite to the collarbone. A moan of pain and pleasure escapes past your lips, spurring your new husband onwards. With a sharp tug, Aemond pulls the bodice of your dress down, exposing your chest to him. He murmurs a simple “beautiful” under his breath before latching onto one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling at the flesh. Your back arches slightly in response, desperate to bring yourself closer to his touch.

As he continues his ministrations he begins to unlace the remainders of your gown, shimmying them down your body, to pool at his feet. You feel his calloused hands roam up and down your body. Sketching your shape into his memory. His fingers knead the flesh of your breasts, your thighs, your ass. Finally, he swipes his fingers between your folds, you emit a soft whine at the contact.

He raises an eyebrow, “I’ve barely even touched you yet Little Wolf, and you're already soaking my fingers. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock–” He trails off, mesmerized as he begins to pump two fingers in and out of your core. Your cheeks flush a deep scarlet at his words. Your hands find purchase in the sheets of your new bed.

“Oh– oh Aemond –” You whisper in between breaths.

“Say it again, say my name again,” It’s almost a plea, begging to hear it again.

“Husband– Aemond– My Dragon –” Aemond harshly withdraws his fingers from you. You nearly scream at the loss of the delicious contact. Discarding the remainder of his clothes, tossing them haphazardly to the side, Aemond grabs you by the ankles pulling you down towards the end of the bed where he stands. You catch site of his cock as he gives it a few tugs in preparation. The tip angry and red, glazed in his arousal for you. Your eyes widen a bit, your mother never prepared you for what might happen should your lord husband be too – big.

Aemond sees your moment of concern, he positions himself over you, cock aligned at your entrance. His hand carresses your cheek, as he says “I shall be gentle, if you ask me to.Give you time to adjust –”

“No,” Your answer surprises the both of you. “I want you, I am not some small flower, I can take what you give me. I want whatever you shall give me Husband.” You lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, as if to reassure him that what you say is true.

“Seven fucking Hells, you are something did you know that?” He rests his forehead agaisnt yours, as he ever so slowly begins to sheath himself inside of you.

You let out a small giggle, whispering back “I know–”

Aemond bottoms out inside of you, his cock fully enclosed by the walls of your cunt. He could die like this, he thinks. Cock sheathed in the cunt of his gorgeous Little Wolf. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, he needs to take a moment to catch his breath. He had fucked women before, whores in the Street of Silk. His brother having dragged him there once, and to seek some kind of perverted comfort there during The Dance. But none of them compared to this moment, none of them –

“Husband, Gods move please,” Aemond is brought out of his thoughts by your pleas, you voice hoarse with want and need.

“With pleasure Little Wolf.” He begins to thrust, moving his hips at a slow and steady pace. It’s for his own sake as much as it is yours. He’s afraid that should he move to fast he won’t be able to carry on for very long. Beneath him your hands clutch the sheets of his bed, your cheeks are flushed the most lovely red, your hair played out in a halo around you on the pillow. If he could burn the image into his mind forever, then he certainly would.

Aemond’s cock stretches you out perfectly, boardering on pain and pleasure, but only for the first moments. His thrusts are steady and calculated, but never the less delicious. The movement causes friction on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to your core. It’s lovely, you think, but you want more. Moving from their place in the sheets, your hands settle on his hips, urging him to move faster.

“Aemond– more,” His lilac eye flits up to your face, asking for silent reassurance that that is indeed what you want. “For Gods sake Husband, move faster please I–” Not needing to be told twice, Aemond picks up speed. Where his thrusts were slow and sensual, now they are fast and hard. He fucks you like a man starved, as if he was told this is the last woman he will ever lay with. Which in his case, was true, since you were married after all.

Your tits bounce at the force of his movement, your hands that were previously on his hips, begin to rake down his back. Your legs come up to circle his waist, drawing him impossibly closer.

“You like this then, huh, Little Wolf. Treated like my own personal whore, to fuck how I please?” The sounds that fill the room are egregious, skin against skin, moans, whimpers, and screams.

“Louder Little Wolf, howl for me, let the whole Keep hear how I pleasure you so,” Perhaps that same small part of him wanted his brother to hear. As if Aemond had something to prove to him, that he made a better husband, a better lover than Aegon ever will.

“Aemond, Aemond, oh Aemond–” You chant his name like a mantra. His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you, you gasp eyes widening at the feeling.

“Seems I’ve found where you feel pleasure best. Is that right Little Wolf?”

“Yes, Gods Aemond, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna –” Hearing that was all the motivation he needed to pick up his pace even more. To fuck you even harder than before. He grips your hips pulling you closer to him at the end of the bed, from this angle he has full control over your body, and can fuck you as you so desire him to.

The force of his thrusts, and the friction against your clit cause you to see stars behind your eyes. With one last scream of his name, you cum around his cock. Your walls pulling him in, attempting to root him to you. Aemond however, does not let up, chasing afer his own release.

“Just a moment more, my sweet, perfect Little Wolf. I’m going to breed you, and watch you swell with my pups. Wouldn’t you love that huh?” Aemond continues to piston in and out of you, the feeling almost too much, but still just as lovely as before. Nonsensical moans leave your lips, and Aemond laughs at you babbling, although not rudely.

His hips begin to stutter as he nears his end, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” He mutters under his breath as you feel his seed coat your walls. The feeling warm, and full and lovely. Aemond remains seated inside of you as he rests his forehead once more to yours. You kiss his nose again, a new favorite spor perhaps. He offers you a small smile in return.

You both groan as he pulls out. Your cunt perfectly overstimulated and happy. Wordlessly Aemond leaves the bed, and begins to rummage around some drawers in one of the many pieces of furniture in the room. You worry for a brief moment that he will leave, and that he meant none of what he said. But as he brings a damp cloth between your thighs to clean you, your worries wash away. He tosses the rag aside, to be dealt with on the morrow. For now, all he wanted was to lay with his wife in his arms as he drifts off to sleep.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you move to covers to lie beneath them. Aemond pulls you to him, tucking the top of your head under his chin, he kisses your hair. You both think that perhaps this marriage will be fruitful, that over time you will learn to love one another. It seems as if you both are on a lovely start for that though as is.

“Good night ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved),” Aemond mutters into your hair.

“Sleep well, My Dragon,” you say in response. You both drift off into a peaceful sleep, held comfortably in each other's arms. No one knew what the morrow would bring, let alone a fortnight from now. But you both knew you would see it through together as equals, husband and wife, dragon and wolf.

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thesongoficeandfir3 · 10 months ago

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The wolf, the raven and the arrow

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Fem Stark reader

Au, after the war and the blacks won

Warning: I don’t think so lest you count my bad writing ahahah 😔

You currently stood in the training yard of Riverrun, shooting arrows at the target up ahead. You and your elder brother Cregan, were on your way back to Winterfell from queen Rhaenyra’s coronation. The journey from King’s landing to the North was a extremely long one, so it was decided to stop at the Riverlands for a few days for rest and the opportunity to not have to sleep in a tent another day.

As you continued to shoot the arrows, at the corrnor of your eye you noticed the young formidable lord of Raventree Hall looking at you. He was leaning against the fence of the training ring,snacking on an apple while his men roughhouse around him. When your eyes locked with his dark ones, you rolled your eyes and continued to shoot. From the very first day you stepped foot in Riverrun, Benjicot Blackwood eyes would always be on you.

When you were breaking your fast or having dinner in the great hall with others you would always notice him looking at you, moments as this one when you were in the training yard, he never failed to be at some corner his eyes taking in your figure. If you pass him briefly in the halls, he was always looking at you and would only look away when your figure finally disappeared out of his sight. You two had yet to hold any real conversation as your brother was always accompanying you nearly every where you went. This time however, Cregan was busy in the company of Alysanne, something you will for sure tease him for later, alas leaving you by yourself.

Benjicot knew he’d be a fool to not use this opportunity of you finally being all alone, without your intimidating brother trailing next to you like a guard dog. As you tried to keep your attention on the task at hand, you heard the men suddenly whistle and cheer, though you didn’t turn around you just knew it was directed towards you.

You then heard the sound of a large amount of them walking away from the training yard and one walking towards you, their boots causing a squelching sound in the mud. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Lord Blackwood.” You greeted him formally though there was no warmth and friendliness in your tone not even bothering to look at him instead shooting another arrow.

“Lady Stark” he greets you back in an equally formal tone of voice, but the smirk on his face showed that he had little to no respect for formality. It was simply to mock yours. After the greeting it goes quiet, save for the sound of you readying another arrow to shoot at the target.

He snickers as you miss your shot, the arrow straying a few feet away from the target. He may not have been there for long but judging by the looks of it, you had yet to hit a bullseye.

“You really are a terrible archer, aren’t you?” He says as he takes another bite of his apple before throwing it off to the side.

“Clever of you to say that to someone who still holds the bow and arrow.” you bark back immediately.

This causes the young lord to chuckle again not feeling offended or threatened in the slightest. He still stood behind you, and little to your knowledge his eyes never left your figure and occasionally analyzing it from head to toe. He found your fiery temper amusing and couldn’t help but wonder if he could push you any more.

“I’ve never seen someone shoot this poorly… and that is saying something considering I’ve seen five year olds train with bows.” He replies nothing but pure mockery in his tone.

His words caused your blood to boil, and you quickly shoot another arrow to try and prove him wrong however, this time the arrow doesn’t even make it remotely close to the target but shoots to the forest behind.

He let out a bark of laughter, making no effort to conceal his amusement at your failure. “Are you trying to be a bad shot, or does it come naturally to you?”

You knew deep down this….he wasn’t worth it….you knew proving him wrong was a waste of time yet, your pride got the better of you. Again you took another arrow, changing your stance and ready to shoot. though you already set yourself up for failure as your stance was all wrong but you did not know it.

To be fair on your part, you were still relatively new to archery and your brother was in the process of teaching you, so you had a lot to learn. That being said, it should be another reason as to why you shouldn’t bother to try and prove to the Blackwood lord you’re not good when in fact… it mayhaps have been the truth.

As you were so focused ready to hit the target, you didn't even notice Benjicot had left his previous position, till he was directly behind you. Your breath hitched as you felt his chest pressed on your back. You could feel his heat radiating off of you, providing a comfortable warmth in contrast to the slight cold and wet environment as it had rained a few hours prior.

“What are you-“ you say with a shallow breath .

“Relax, I’m just trying to help,” He whispers, his lips hovering just over your ear. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in response. “First, your hips don’t need to be pushed so forward.” He says as he slowly moved your hips with his hand, guiding your body to the correct position for the shot.

Then he moves up and places his hands over your own as you held the bow. “Second you don’t need to be so tense,” he says as he leans his face even closer to yours. If you had turned your face even in the slightest you were sure your lips would meet his. You do as you’re told and with a shaky breath you relax. “That’s it, just like that. Good girl… now shoot.”

You felt a strange twist at the pit of your stomach at his words, and it took everything inside of you to not react. You finally release, the arrow goes flying and hits the target square in the center, right in the bullseye.

You gasp in shock and a smile spreads across your lips. While your eyes never leave the target, Benjicot’s eyes never left you.

He immediately noticed the soft smile on your face and found himself surprised by it. This was the first time he saw you without a scowl or frown on your face around him. He can't help but feel a bit pleased that he has managed to provoke such a reaction from you. As much as he enjoyed annoying you,he enjoyed making you smile more.

“So you are capable of smiling.” he says whispering in your ear, breaking the moment of bliss between you two.

You then realized that he was still very much hovering over you and his hands found their way to your hips keeping you close to him. You quickly elbowed him in the stomach shoving him away from you,and creating a good distance between you two in the process. Though there was a small part if you that missed the warmth.

He let out a small noise as your elbow connects with his stomach, the blow knocking a bit of the wind out of him, but despite the pain smirks. “And the she wolf is back,” he chuckles extremely amused at how fast your mood changed. “though I’d be lying if I didn’t say I liked your fiery side a bit more than your soft one.” he said as he straightened up himself from the blow.

“You want a woman with fire... go marry a Targaryen.”you say with a scoff as you leaned the bow and arrows against a post near you.

“Tempting as it is to have a dragon for a wife, I think I prefer wolves.” Even though you had assaulted him last time he was near you, he began to take steps towards you.

“Wolves eat ravens.” you said with your arms folded and stared at him as he walked towards you.

“That's what makes it fun…. the danger.” He flashes you a toothy grin, swiping his tongue along his teeth.

He continues to walk towards you, his steps slow and measured like a predator, his eyes never leaving yours.

“By the seven- you're psychotic and relentless.“

He chuckles as you comment on his behavior, not like he hasn’t heard that before. He is now standing right in front of you again, that grin still on his face as his eyes look into yours. He reaches a hand up and brush some of your hair away from your face, his touch gentle.

“And you've not seen anything yet.” He spoke out in a low tone

The way he looks at you and his gentle touch made you feel that same pool of excitement in your stomach as when he was fixing your position. To be honest you had really nothing against him , hell you don’t even know why there was ‘rivalry’ between you two but at the same time you couldn’t give in that easily.

“You don't give up do you?” You say not pulling away

“Never, not when I want something.” He leans his face closer, his lips mere inches away from yours.

“And what is it that you want?” you say relishing in the moment you get to mock him.

He continues to speak in a low, suggestive tone.

“I think you know the answer to that.” He says with a grin his eyes analyzing and drinking in all your features, as this was the first time he got to be so close to you.

And what makes you think I want the same?” You say continuing to tease him. “I'm a lady of one of the seven great kingdoms... the only daughter of the late lord stark, what do you have that other lords don’t?

“Would you like a list?” He quips back, his voice dripping with confidence.

For the first time you laugh from his words. “humor me, Blackwood”

“I’d worship your body every night and make sure to leave you breathless. I’d be loyal to you, and would kill anyone that dare to cross you. I’d give you all my attention,” he then runs his thumb on the bottom of your lip and his voice going lower “I may be a lord but a woman like you deserves to be a Queen, and I’d make you my Queen in all but name.”

You would have caved in right then and there if you hadn’t noticed your brother in the distance walking into the castle bringing you right back to reality. Your eyes flicker right back to Benjicot.

“That’s very tempting lord Blackwood but I’m not so easy to tame with mere words” you say as you leaned up and gave him a quick kiss at the side of his lips before walking to Cregan.

“I’m not ready to stop running Blackwood” you say with a laugh as you walk away.

“And I’m not ready to stop chasing you lady Stark” he replied back, his eyes again never leaving your figure. He didn’t see this as defeat but as courage to work harder.

#hotd season 2 #hotd #hotd fanfic #game of thrones #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #stark reader #house of the dragon

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fandomnerd9602 · 10 days ago

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Wanda: detka do we need to worry about your father pulling some stunt today?

Y/N: it’s our boys’ first Easter he would never

Tony tries to walk in, dressed in an Easter bunny costume…

Tony: Happy Easter boys! Grandpa Bunny is-

Y/N slams the door on him…

Y/N: dad come back when you won’t traumatize my kids for life!

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #stark reader #tony stark #elizabeth olsen #robert downey jr #easter

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claymoresword · 9 months ago

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We Bleed The Same | Part: 1

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Sequel to 'Where's My Love'.

Wordcount: 4k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, mentions of sexual violence & domestic abuse, breeding kink, blowjob/deep throating, unprotected sex, dubious consent, co-dependency, y/n & cersei are soulmates argue with the wall

Note: This was actually a lot of fun, I already can't wait to put out the second part! Anyway, hope you enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it (smut after asterisks)

You have been on the road for what feels like an eternity, the children are growing restless, and so are you, but King's Landing is still weeks away. Your next destination being Castle Darry, by order of the king.

Robert Baratheon is rather fond of his pit stops, and you have half a mind to strangle him for that.

What is meant to be a few weeks on the road has turned into months of long-winded journey.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat for the hundredth time, leaning back against the cushions.

You are certainly looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed, whenever that might be.

Just as you start to grow somewhat comfortable, the litter jerks to an abrupt halt, forcing you to lean forward.

Ned places a firm arm in front of his girls to prevent them from falling forward the same way you had.

“Why have we stopped?” You ask, exasperated. Subsequently, pulling aside the curtain next to you to look out the window, only to be greeted with darkness.

You hadn't realized it was already nightfall.

As you squint, you only manage to make out an open field– the scenery does look beautiful, but this isn't the castle.

“Maybe the king needed a piss again.” Arya remarks, trying her best to look over your shoulder.

You narrow your gaze at your niece, and her inability to keep her thoughts to herself. Although there is full possibility that the girl was correct.

The king had delayed the possession half a dozen times today to relieve himself.

“No..” Sansa utters. “He's being sick.” She observes, and it is swiftly followed by the sound of Robert dry heaving.

You grimace at the noise, no longer concealing your annoyance.

Robert has stopped the journey half a dozen times to do that as well.

“Perhaps if he didn't drink so much..” You start, although your brother interjects before you can say anything else.

“Be quiet, the lot of you.” Ned scolds, and you have to bite back a retort as you petulantly glance out through the curtains again.

Eventually, the litter resumes movement, and you rest your back once more, allowing your mind to wander.

Cersei is no doubt feeling as miserable as you are, if not more.

Had you been given leave to ride with her, perhaps this journey would not be half as excruciating.

You missed her, you crave to hear her voice, to touch her, kiss her.

If you fail to reach Castle Darry by tonight, you aim to find a way inside the queen's litter. Robert is certain to be too drunk to notice anyway.

The journey continues on for several more hours, the repetitive movement of the carriage begins to lull you, you could only fight it for so long before a deep and dreamless slumber manages to take over.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Y/n.” You stir to Ned's voice, his hand on your shoulder is like a jolt to your system; you sit up abruptly.

As you come to your senses, you notice that the litter has stopped, Arya and Sansa are no longer beside you.

“We're moving into the castle, I need your help carrying in the food crates.” Ned explains, pulling open the curtains next to you.

“What hour is it?” You ask groggily, still trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I don't know.” Ned responds truthfully. “but I reckon we'll see first light soon.” He finishes, yet you fail to move.

“Come on, you've been asleep for hours.” Your brother insists, he grabs ahold of your hand, forcibly hoisting you up.

As he tugs on your arm, you stumble out of the litter, leaning your weight on Ned as you attempt to find your footing.

You shove him away after you do, scowling at your brother, and his very successful attempt at manhandling you.

“When we get back on the road I am riding on horseback. I'm sick of sitting in that damned thing.” You grumble, gesturing to the carriage behind you before smoothing out your cloak and running your fingers through your hair.

“As you wish, but I refuse to listen to you whine about saddle sores.” Ned says, approaching the stack of crates.

“I am a woman grown, I do not whine.” You contend defensively.

Ned does not heed your remark, nodding towards the large crate impatiently, he braces his hands on the underside of it. “Come, help me.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Castle Darry sits atop of a hill in the Riverlands, the climb was steep enough to knock the wind out of you.

By the time you enter through its doors, your chest is heaving. “Seven hells–” You mutter under your breath, although you are quickly distracted by the interior of the palace.

Darry had decently high ceilings, the castle is larger on the inside as it appeared on the outside. Somehow modest and grand all at once.

The stairs, large and winding, are set at the center of the main hall leading up to the bedchambers.

Robert picked a decent place this time around, you'll give him that much.

You stroll past the stairs towards the castle's great hall, observing as Ned approaches the table in the far right, next to a window that overlooks a view of the river.

You spot your nieces and nephews enjoying an early breakfast. Next to them are Cersei's youngest children, Myrcella and Tommen.

Sansa and Myrcella appear caught up in conversation, whilst Arya and Tommen are on their knees, busy feeding Nymeria pieces of charred meat.

Joffrey is nowhere to be seen. This doesn't surprise anyone, in truth. The prince along with his sworn guard often wander about on their own. The boy was always eager to find trouble where he can, that much is evident.

You begin scanning the rest of the hall, you notice the kingsguard along with the queen's men, but no sight of the king or queen themselves.

You can't help the disappointment that settles in your belly, you were hoping to get at least a glimpse of Cersei before heading to bed.

“Where is the queen?” You ask as you take a seat next to Robb and his half-brother, Jon.

You reach for the flagon of spiced wine, pouring it into a cup as you await a response.

Robb merely shrugs as he stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth, and your other nephew decides to opt for a smart answer.

“With the king, I presume?” Jon remarks, insolent and juvenile.

You quickly wipe the smirk off his face by placing a firm smack against the back of his head.

Jon yelps, reaching up to rub the same spot you had just struck him. “What was that for?”

“I meant, which room is she in?” You rephrase, unamused before lifting the rim of your cup to your lips, taking a large drink.

A burst of nutmeg and cinnamon coats your tongue, when accompanied with the warm, bitter taste of wine, it manages to soothe you.

“I saw her enter the one upstairs, at the end of the hall.” Sansa chimes in, making sure to swallow her food first before addressing you.

You turn your attention towards your niece, a look of gratitude paints your features. “Thank you, Sansa.”

“Hopeless, the both of you.” You remark, reaching out to mess up Robb's head of auburn hair.

You relished the way both boys scowled at you as you left the dining area.

You trudge up the steep stairs leading to the bedchambers. Glancing at the row of rooms to your left, and then to your right.

You mentally curse yourself for failing to clarify with Sansa exactly which room the queen had taken as her own.

After a moment of deliberating, you decide to take a risk, approaching the room on the far left, one hidden behind a large pillar.

You knock twice before resting your hand on the pommel of your sword.

A beat passes and no one answers, though just as you move to walk away, the door opens, and a golden-haired beauty emerges from the dark room.

Your smile happens involuntarily as you pale greys catch Cersei's emerald gaze. Though the queen doesn't reciprocate, instead she pulls you in for a sudden hug.

After a fleeting moment of confusion, you embrace her in return. Your hand rests on the small of her back, the other gently threads through her golden curls.

As your gaze wanders, it is only then you notice a tear in her robe. The silk material fails to cover the bruising on Cersei's arm; the sight makes you stiffen.

The queen fails to speak, so you decide to break the silence first.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, expecting the answer, but Cersei does not grace you with a verbal reply, merely hugging you tighter.

“Do you want me to stay here tonight?” You whisper instead, your lips brush against the shell of the other woman's ear.

Cersei remains quiet for a while, as though considering your request. She pulls back slightly to look at you, her gaze softens as she traces your features with her thumb.

“You can't, Robert's in my bed.” She finally says, and your brows furrow at the prospect.

That old brute laid his hands on her again.

You open your mouth to protest, but as if expecting it, Cersei places her hand over your mouth, stopping you. “Don't– do not say anything, just kiss me.”

With that, the queen leans in, capturing your mouth with her own. The kiss is desperate, and anguished. Cersei moans softly into your mouth as your tongues make contact.

She tastes like lemon and arbor red, and you are content to feel her like this, for all eternity, although the way your lungs burn for air proves your desire to be an impossible one to uphold.

You break away first, tilting your head to kiss her neck. Cersei gasps at the sensation, her fingers clenched tightly around your hair as your mouth finds the base of her jaw.

“I want–” The queen starts, her voice trembling ever so slightly as your mouth continues to move along her tender flesh.

Eventually, Cersei finds the strength to tug on your hair, guiding your face to her own.

“I want to name you my sworn protector, when we get to King's Landing.” The older woman says suddenly. “I will declare it to the council myself.” Cersei adds, and she simply rakes her fingers through your hair at your lack of response.

“Then you'll have reason to be in my quarters.. in my company.. elsewise people will talk.” She explains, and finally, you nod.

The queen's sworn protector. Like you intended to be all those years ago, before things went wrong between the two of you.

“As you wish.. I am your servant.” You conclude, and for the first time tonight a smile covers Cersei's enchanting features.

Striking, delicate and so damned breathtaking.

“Good.” She says, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The following week at Darry had been at best, quiet and uneventful. You spent most of your days with your brother and his children and nights waiting for everyone to fall asleep just so you could visit the queen.

Although, you did not have the privilege of seeing her last night. After a long day of hunting with Ned and Robert, you don't recall how you got back to the castle, only that you had awoken this morning with a pounding head.

Not exactly fond of hunting, you did so mainly out of courtesy– as to not give the king cause to be upset.

Robert is as unpleasant on a hunt as he is on any other day, if not more.

Naturally, you drank to dull the ache his company caused, as well as pass the time.

In truth, all you wanted to do is spend your days and nights in bed with Cersei. You had managed to steal moments here and there, but nothing enough to satiate your need for her.

All the more reason to look forward to King's Landing. Once you get to the city you'll be allowed to spend time in the queen's bedchambers under the guise of guarding her from harm.

Then, you'll finally be allowed to do whatever you desire with each other without the danger of being seen.

Tonight, in a welcomed change of pace, you find yourself in the Godswood with Ser Jory Cassel, dull blades in hand.

He is a capable sparring partner, however predictable he might be.

You remind yourself once more that he is a knight, he fights clean like most of them.

Most knights are predictable.

“I cannot be out here for much longer, M'lady. Lord Eddard has tasked me to watch over his daughters tonight.” Ser Jory says as he resumes his stance, lifting his blade.

You shrug, doing the same.

“I understand, Ser. I only mean to fight you until I grow bored.. which shouldn't take long at all.” You jest, and it manages to hit a nerve, as the knight takes a large swing at you.

You deflect the blow before swiftly maneuvering your body away with one foot, causing the knight to stumble forward.

Ser Jory recovers quickly, this time you strike first, and your dull blades kiss with a large clash.

You take the opportunity to get out of the position by flicking your wrist, as a result your sword is released from the blade lock. You twist the blade in your hand once before pointing it at the knight's neck.

The quickest win yet.

Ser Jory sighs, lifting his arms in surrender. “I yield.”

You lower your blade with a grin. Though the man yields quickly, far too easily.

Suddenly, you find yourself hoping the knight isn't letting you win on purpose, or perhaps he is just eager to get inside and resume his post.

Either way, you are not yet satisfied.

As you are just about to request for another round, voices in the distance steal your attention.

You glance over to see men from the kingsguard standing under the Weirwood, gossiping– albeit not very discreetly.

“They were arguing again, the king and queen..”

Ser Jory has since set aside his sparring blade. He walks over to a wooden bench in the corner of the Godswood to fetch his sword belt, fastening it onto his person.

“See you inside, m'lady.” Jory announces as he rushes back into the castle. Although you hardly hear him at all as you inch closer to the pair of knights standing under the Weirwood tree.

You remain partially hidden by the darkness as you listen to their conversation whilst pretending to focus your attention elsewhere.

“I heard she broke his nose.” The kingsguard says.

“He broke hers more like. That's why she sent her handmaids to fetch her a cold compress.” The other knight chimes in, and his words send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn away, thoughtlessly discarding the practice blade you were holding before grabbing your own sword.

You slip past the main doors of the castle before sprinting up the stairs. You pushed past the pair of guards at the foot of it as they took a moment too long to step aside.

As you reach Cersei's bedchambers you notice that her door is left ajar. You push it open, stepping inside in a panic frenzy, only to nearly trip over Robert's large frame.

The king lays motionless by the door, on a beautifully crafted Myrish carpet. His large belly spilling out of his tunic.

A compelling sight.

You look up to find Cersei standing by the window, a goblet of wine in hand. She smiles as your eyes meet.

Her hair is unkempt, her robe falling off one shoulder, but there is no blood anywhere on her, in fact she appears entirely unharmed.

You turn to shut the door, wincing as it accidentally slams into place. Yet, Robert remains on the floor, unfazed.

“Is he dead?” You quip, circling the king's motionless body and it earns a bitter chuckle from Cersei.

“No, just passed out from drinking too much, I'm afraid.” The queen responds, her own voice slurred.

The queen is drunk.

“Pity.” You remark, as a large noise erupts from the king. The boisterous and grating snore continues every time he breathes.

You tilt your head at the sight of him, Robert Baratheon is a beast, and the worst kind.

You sigh at the thought before turning around, only to find Cersei standing right behind you.

She reaches up instinctively, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck.

“Did he hurt you?” You ask softly, your own hands finding her waist.

Your jaw tenses as Cersei nodded in response.

A blind rage overcomes you then, the sound of Robert snoring agitates you beyond belief, fueling your resentment.

“I could kill him.” You mutter through gritted teeth, and Cersei merely re-focuses her gaze on you, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“You are so adorable.” She whispers, almost mockingly, her lips then meet your neck.

The feeling of her kisses upon your skin slowly causes your anger to dissipate, you find yourself conflicted.

“Cersei–” You attempt, but the queen's mouth against the shell of your ear causes your words to die in your throat.

“Take me to bed..” She says, the scent of lavender in her hair invades your senses, and you find it nearly impossible to think. You are urged to do as she asks, but logic and reason forces you to consider otherwise.

“What?” You ask, and you feel Cersei's teeth graze your ear, she bites your earlobe before pulling back slightly to look at you.

“I want you to fuck me– you do it so well.” She pleads, in a tone that nearly makes your knees buckle.

Cersei runs her fingers through your hair, uninterested in hearing you protest any further.

She escapes your embrace, though not letting go of your hand as she steps over Robert.

The king continues to snore loudly, you are beginning to think the man will not wake for anything at all. He might as well be dead.

“Come.” Cersei coaxes sweetly, tugging on your arm.

You let her guide you without a moment's thought, stepping over the king to follow the queen to her bed.

Cersei lets go of your hand to unlace her robe, she shrugs it off, allowing it to fall on the floor, leaving her as naked as her nameday.

The queen watches you disapprovingly as you stand frozen in place. You observed the way her hips swayed languidly as she approached you.

She reaches south to unfasten your sword belt, gripping your blade by its scabbard before placing it on the floor.

“You are not naked enough.” Cersei points out, with a slight pout. The way she continues to slur her words causes your heart to constrict in your chest.

Even like this, she is breathtaking.

Beautiful.. and so utterly twisted.

You are so in love with her.

Cersei sets her bottom lip in between her teeth with palpable excitement as you obliged her. Unclasping your dark grey doublet, tossing it aside before lifting your tunic over your head.

The queen decides to assist you with your bottom half. Brazenly palming your cock through your breeches, her shoulder slumps in disappointment, unsatisfied with the current flaccid state of your shaft.

“What's wrong?” Cersei asks, her hands move up your body to cup your breast before resting on the nape of your neck once more.

You are unsure of how to respond, you remain overtly aware of the fact that Cersei's husband remained asleep only a few feet away.

You turn to glance at the man but the queen is quick to force your head in place. “Don't look at him.” She scolds before leaning in to capture your lips with her own for a long kiss.

As you aim to slip your tongue inside of her mouth, Cersei pulls away with a demand. “Take off your breeches, come here.”

You observed as Cersei climbed onto the bed, settling on her knees at the edge of it.

The sight admittedly manages to excite you; you feel your cock begin to stir.

You remove your breeches in haste, ridding them heedlessly as you approach the golden haired woman.

Now you stand in front of the bed and Cersei remains in a kneeling position on the edge as she grips the base of your semi-erect shaft. Bringing it up to her lips, she kisses the tip, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck–” You groan aloud as Cersei finally takes you into her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she begins to suck.

You let out an unsteady breath, reaching down to grip a fistful of her hair, wary of not grabbing too tightly as you allowed Cersei to set her own pace.

The queen continues bobbing her head, taking your cock inside of her mouth in its entirety.

You feel her breathe out through her nose as she takes you in even deeper, pulling another groan from you as the tip of your shaft meets her throat.

You gasp as Cersei keeps going, you notice as tears begin to well up in her eyes before they flutter shut as she takes you further in.

The feeling of her swallowing around your cock makes you see stars, and it nearly causes you to finish right then and there.

“Gods above, Cersei–” You curse incoherently.

The queen chokes on your girth before leaning back to let your cock lay flat against her tongue once more.

She continues to suck dutifully, and you grunt, this time gripping her hair harshly to pull her head back.

You needed to take her, now.

“Enough, come here.” You state, and Cersei lets your cock fall out of her mouth.

She makes a noise of surprise as you harshly met her lips. Cersei kisses you passionately in return, pulling you down on top of her.

As the queen parted her legs for you, you don't give her much warning before reaching in between both of your bodies.

You line the tip of your shaft up to her entrance, and with one swift thrust, you enter her completely, filling Cersei to the hilt.

The older woman lets out a guttural noise at the sensation, followed shortly after by a whimper.

Cersei's nails dig into your back as her entire body trembles uncontrollably.

You turn to check if the king had perhaps awoken at the sound, but again, Cersei does not give you the chance, pulling you in for another kiss.

You decide not to heed caution any longer, you begin moving your hips, steadily increasing the pace.

If the king wakes, you will kill him.

Cersei mewls into your mouth as your cock hits the perfect spot within her, again and again.

Soon, you brace your hands against the bedding on either side of her head as you begin to rut into her wildly.

Cersei lets out a series of broken gasps and moans, followed by a louder whine when she suddenly reaches her peak around your cock.

You observed as the queen writhed underneath you with every thrust afterwards, she wraps her arms around your back weakly, pulling you in even closer.

You steal at the opportunity to take Cersei’s breasts into your mouth. Licking and sucking at them greedily.

She gasps at the feeling, and you soon earn another whine as you maintain your slow thrusts.

“Please..” The queen pleads, and the sound of her desperation alone makes you drunk.

“Fill me with your seed,” Cersei utters against your ear, her legs wrapped around your waist as though not allowing you the opportunity to disobey her.

“I want to feel it quicken inside me. I want to bear your children, your heirs. Only yours.” She continues, deliberately clenching her walls around your girth.

That does it.

Your release comes just as sudden, it is violent and unyielding.

Before you can even think of pulling out, your seed spills out in ropes, thick and warm, filling Cersei's womb, just as she wanted.

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister #cersei x reader #cersei lannister smut #g!p reader #fem stark reader #stark reader #ned stark x reader #g!p

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mintyys-blog · 3 months ago

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BRAT TAMER— dark! bucky barnes x brat! stark! reader

WARNINGS: alcohol, suggestive scenes, age gap, power imbalance, brat behaviour, dark themes, tramp stamp, harassment, swearing, SMUT.

MINORS DNI

You knew exactly what you were doing.

The moment you stepped into the Avengers Tower, heels clicking against the pristine marble floors, every pair of eyes flicked to you. Not that you cared. In fact, you reveled in it. The attention. The annoyance. The way your father, Tony Stark, ran a hand down his face the second he saw your outfit—if it could even be called that.

A tiny crop top, barely-there shorts, and heels that made your legs look like they went on forever.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered under his breath.

You smirked, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you waltzed past him like you owned the place. “Daddy, that’s not a very warm welcome,” you pouted. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “Do you ever dress appropriately? Just once?”

You scoffed. “What’s the fun in that?”

Truthfully, you liked pushing his buttons. You’d been doing it for years, and it never got old. Tony Stark, billionaire genius, could handle aliens, mad scientists, and world-ending threats—but his own daughter? A nightmare in designer heels.

“Where’s Morgan?” you asked, though you didn’t really care.

“In her room. And don’t—”

Too late. You were already walking in that direction.

Tony sighed, shooting a look at Steve and Bucky, who had been watching the interaction silently. “I don’t know what to do with her.”

Bucky’s stare lingered as you disappeared down the hallway. You had that effect on people—especially men. And you knew it.

Morgan adored you.

Which was the problem.

She was ten, all wide eyes and admiration, soaking up every little thing you did like a sponge. And Tony? He hated it.

You sat on her bed, lazily scrolling through your phone as she rattled on about school, her friends, some dumb science project Tony was helping her with. You weren’t really listening.

“Can I do my hair like yours?” Morgan asked suddenly, eyes shining with hope.

You smirked. “You wanna be like me, huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

Tony’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “No, she doesn’t.”

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Morgan, go get ready for dinner,” he said firmly.

Morgan hesitated, looking between the two of you before reluctantly nodding and slipping out of the room.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s the influence you don’t want?”

Tony stepped inside, lowering his voice. “I mean it, Y/N. She looks up to you. I won’t let you screw her up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Dad. I’m not telling her to go rob a bank.”

“No, but you are showing up dressed like that,” he shot back. “Parading around like you have no responsibilities, blowing through money like it’s endless—”

“Isn’t it?” you cut in, smirking.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, kid. I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Nothing,” you said simply, standing up and stretching, the hem of your top riding up just to be provocative. “Because I don’t live under your roof anymore, remember?”

You walked past him, brushing against his shoulder as you left.

And just like that, you were gone.

Later that night, Bucky found you at the bar.

You were perched on a stool, sipping a martini, legs crossed, eyes scanning the room like a predator looking for prey.

He slid onto the stool beside you, silent at first. You noticed him, of course. How could you not? He was hard to ignore—tall, broad, that metal arm glinting under the dim lights.

“Well, well,” you mused, tilting your head. “Didn’t take you for a bar kind of guy.”

Bucky shrugged, eyes flickering over your outfit. “Didn’t take you for the kind of girl who needs attention to survive.”

You grinned. “Oh, but I do. What’s life without a little fun?”

“Fun,” Bucky repeated, tone unreadable. “That what you’re looking for?”

You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the bar, chin propped in your hand. “Depends. You offering?”

His jaw tensed. You were pushing. Flirting. Teasing. And you knew it was working.

“You think this is a game?” he asked, voice low.

You smirked. “Isn’t it?”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Careful, sweetheart.”

You arched a brow. “Or what?”

He didn’t answer. Just took a sip of his drink, eyes lingering on you.

Breaking the Brat

Part Two

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

Bucky didn’t play your game.

That was the first thing that set him apart from the others.

Most men—especially the older ones—were predictable. Easy to manipulate. A bat of your lashes, a sultry smile, a teasing touch, and they’d trip over themselves to get what you wanted.

But Bucky? He saw right through it.

And that? That made you want to play even more.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” You leaned in, close enough that your perfume lingered between you. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

Bucky glanced at you, unimpressed. “You really think you’re a challenge?”

You pouted. “Aw, that’s cute. You think I’m easy?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I think you’re loud. And desperate for attention.”

Your smirk didn’t falter. “And yet, here you are, giving it to me.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He just took another sip of his drink, jaw tight.

That’s what intrigued you the most.

He wanted to say something. Wanted to snap, to put you in your place. You could see it in his eyes. The restraint. The discipline. It was a game of tug-of-war, and you were determined to win.

“So, tell me,” you mused, twirling the olive in your martini between your fingers. “What does a guy like you do for fun?”

Bucky didn’t blink. “Nothing you’d survive.”

A thrill shot through you.

“You don’t know what I can handle,” you said, licking the martini off your lips.

His gaze flickered there, just for a second. A small victory.

Then, he downed the rest of his drink and stood.

“Go home, kid.”

Kid.

The word sent a rush of irritation through you.

You weren’t a kid. You were a woman. A woman who could make grown men fall at her feet. A woman who could ruin a man if she wanted to.

And yet, Bucky Barnes just brushed you off like an inconvenience.

How dare he?

You watched him walk away, the muscles in his back flexing under his shirt. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t give you the satisfaction.

For the first time in a long time, you felt something foreign settle in your chest.

Frustration.

The next few weeks were fun.

For you, anyway.

You pushed. Bucky ignored. You flirted. He scoffed. You touched, teased, invaded his space—nothing.

He was a wall. Unshakable. Unmoved.

It only made you worse.

You made sure to wear the shortest skirts when you knew he was around. The highest heels. The tightest tops. You batted your lashes, brushed your fingers against his arm, pressed close to whisper things that weren’t exactly appropriate.

Still, nothing.

But you weren’t an amateur at this game.

Men had limits. And you were going to find his.

Tony had given up on you. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” he groaned, rubbing his temples as you scrolled through your phone.

“What now?” You didn’t bother looking up.

“You know exactly what. Do I need to spell it out? The credit card charges. The tabloids. The—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “The fucking tramp stamp!”

You smirked, tilting your head. “You like it?”

Tony clenched his jaw. “You got it two hours after I told you not to.”

“Your point?”

He muttered something under his breath before shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do with you, kid.”

Your smirk faltered. There it was again. Kid. First Bucky, now Tony. You weren’t a child.

And you were going to prove it.

That night, you went too far.

And that’s exactly what you wanted.

The compound was quiet. Late. Most of the team had turned in for the night, but you knew Bucky was still awake.

You found him in the gym. Alone.

He was mid-rep, lifting weights that made your arms ache just looking at them.

You leaned against the doorway, watching, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.

“Wow,” you drawled. “Those arms could do some damage.”

Bucky didn’t stop. Didn’t acknowledge you.

You stepped inside, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.

Nothing.

You let out a dramatic sigh, strutting over to where he stood. “Ignoring me again? Starting to think you don’t like me, Barnes.”

He finished his set, setting the weights down with a quiet thud.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

You stepped closer, trailing a manicured nail down his metal arm. “I bet you could wrap this around my throat and snap it like a twig.”

That got him. Bucky’s head snapped toward you, eyes dark.

Oh, that was satisfying.

“You wanna test that theory?” His voice was low. Dangerous. A shiver ran through you. You weren’t stupid. You knew when you were poking a bear. But that was half the fun.

“I dunno,” you mused, pressing closer. “Might be fun.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. You could practically see him forcing himself to relax.

Then, he turned and walked away. Just like that. No reaction. No anger. No fire.

It was… disappointing. Until he spoke.

“You should be careful, Y/N.” You frowned. “Of what?”

Bucky stopped at the door, back still to you. “Of what happens when I finally stop holding back.” Then, he was gone.

You stood there for a long moment, staring after him. And for the first time, your smirk faded. Because for the first time, you wondered… Had you finally pushed too far?

It had been a week since Bucky’s warning. A week of silence.

You were used to attention—hell, you craved it—but this was different. The absence of Bucky’s usual snarky responses, his cold stares, his barely-contained tension—it was unsettling. You found yourself looking for him more than you cared to admit. You’d cornered Tony about it. “Where’s Bucky? He’s been MIA.”

Tony didn’t even look up from his work. “I don’t know. Probably avoiding you.”

“Really?” you asked, leaning against the counter. “You think so?”

Tony finally glanced up, his eyes tired but sharp. “Look, kid. I get it. He’s a good guy, but I’m not letting you run around playing your little games with him. Bucky’s not your usual prey.”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “I’m not a damn animal, Dad.” Tony didn’t flinch. “You sure about that?”

Two nights later, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

The Tower was dark, quiet—everyone else was either gone or asleep. You knew Bucky would be up, alone, in the gym. He was predictable like that.

You stood in front of your mirror, inspecting yourself.

A tight black leather jacket, a low-cut tank top that barely covered your chest, and black ripped jeans. Nothing too out there, but enough to make a statement.

Perfect.

You made your way down the long hallway, heels tapping softly on the floors, feeling the familiar rush of power as you approached the gym.

And there he was.

Bucky was lifting weights, his movements precise and fluid, his concentration unwavering. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took the chance to observe.

He was different tonight. His body was tense, his jaw set as he worked through each set like a machine. But it was more than that. There was something in his eyes—something predatory.

And it made you want to push him.

You sauntered into the room, your presence noticeable, but Bucky didn’t look up. He kept going, each lift smoother than the last, each breath steady and controlled.

It was like you weren’t even there.

You didn’t like that.

“Why so serious?” you purred, stepping closer, your voice dripping with a flirtation you didn’t bother to hide.

Bucky paused for a moment, finally glancing at you. But he didn’t respond.

You took it as a challenge.

“You know,” you continued, sliding your hands down your sides provocatively, “if you need some motivation, I could give you a reason to work a little harder.”

Bucky didn’t move. He just stared at you, his gaze unreadable.

“Come on, Barnes,” you cooed, moving closer, your breath warm against the cool air of the gym. “What’s it going to take to get a rise out of you?”

This time, he spoke. His voice was low and measured, like a warning. “You’re treading on thin ice, Y/N.”

You smirked. “I like the danger.”

Bucky finally set the weights down, his movements slow but purposeful. He stepped toward you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place—anger? Frustration? Or something more?

“Last warning, kid,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist before you could react, his grip firm but controlled.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “What are you going to do if I don’t listen, huh? Hit me?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was steady, but you could feel the tension in his body. It was palpable, like a string pulled tight, waiting to snap.

“I warned you,” Bucky growled, voice gravelly.

Before you could respond, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall with a force that made your breath catch.

And there it was—the raw, unfiltered power.

You knew you were pushing him, but this time, you didn’t care.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, but laced with a dangerous edge. “And I don’t think you fully understand the consequences.”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Try me.”

Bucky leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You won’t like the outcome.”

But you weren’t listening. You never were.

You let your fingers trail down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt, pressing yourself closer to him. “You can’t tell me what to do,” you said softly, letting the challenge hang between you like a spark waiting to ignite.

His hand tightened on your wrist, pulling you away from the wall and turning you to face him fully. His blue eyes were dark, unreadable, like an ocean storm waiting to break.

“You think I’m just going to let you walk all over me?” His voice dropped an octave, as if he were tasting every word. “That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat rising between you, the crackling tension unmistakable. For the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip—a flicker of something dangerous. And it made you want more.

“You think you can handle me?” you whispered, your lips inches from his. Without warning, Bucky kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was fierce—passionate, like he was claiming what was his. And you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, but the fire in his gaze only intensified. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he warned, his voice dark with intent.

You stared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And when you get burned, don’t come crying to me.” You shrugged, unfazed. “I’ll take my chances.”

The next morning, you barely slept.

Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Bucky’s cold, intense stare—the way his hand had felt on your wrist, the heat of his lips against yours.

It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed someone with that much force, but it was the first time you felt… controlled.

And you hated it.

You didn’t like being controlled. You liked to be in charge. Always.

So why did the feeling linger? Why did the thought of Bucky’s hands on you—firm, unrelenting—cause a flutter in your chest?

You shook the thought away, brushing your hair back as you stood in front of the mirror. It was just a kiss. Just a moment. You didn’t need to make it anything more.

You picked out an outfit: a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, heels high enough to make your legs look longer than they were. You liked the way the dress clung to your curves, the way it accentuated everything Bucky had noticed last night.

This was a power play. A challenge. And Bucky? He was your target. You stormed out of your room, determined to confront him.

The gym was quiet again when you entered, the hum of the equipment filling the silence. You saw Bucky, of course. He was always here, always training, always keeping to himself. But today, he didn’t look at you when you walked in.

Not at first.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, though. He could feel you, even without looking. The game hadn’t ended last night—it had only just begun.

You walked toward him, a calculated sway in your hips. You made sure to stop just behind him, letting the scent of your perfume reach his nose, just close enough that he couldn’t ignore your presence any longer.

“Morning, Bucky,” you said, leaning over slightly, letting the fabric of your dress stretch just enough to make him notice.

He stopped mid-set, his fingers wrapping around the barbell before he set it down. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face you. His gaze was icy, but there was something more there now—a flicker of something darker. Something that told you he wasn’t as indifferent as he wanted to be.

“What do you want?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it.

You grinned, stepping closer. “I thought we could talk.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

You smirked, leaning in a little closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. “About last night.”

His jaw clenched. “I told you, Y/N—”

“You told me a lot of things.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But you didn’t tell me you’d be so rough. So… possessive.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull away, his grip firm but not painful. “You’re pushing it,” he warned, his tone deadly serious now.

“Am I?” You tilted your head, pretending to be innocent, but you saw the way his eyes flashed, the tension in his body that told you he was on the edge. “I think you like it, Bucky. I think you like the challenge.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly. He didn’t let go, not yet. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

A small laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, Bucky,” you teased, tracing your fingers down his chest slowly, “I don’t think I’m going to regret anything.”

This time, when you looked up at him, there was no teasing in your gaze. There was only a challenge. A dare.

Bucky looked at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each breath, like he was trying to calm himself. Then, slowly, he released your wrist.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered. “And I don’t think you realize just how dangerous it is.”

You stepped back, keeping your eyes on him. “I can handle danger.”

Bucky stared at you, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something dark, something possessive, something that made your heart race.

But then it was gone, replaced by the cold mask he usually wore.

“Keep pushing, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, his tone deadly serious. “And I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You smiled sweetly, tilting your head. “I’m counting on it.”

The next few days were a blur.

Bucky was everywhere you went. He was there when you went to the gym, there when you walked past the training room, there when you entered the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly following you, but he was always within your sight. Always within your reach.

And it drove you crazy.

You didn’t get what it was. You didn’t get why he was always near, always present. He wasn’t ignoring you anymore, but he wasn’t giving you the satisfaction either. He was… patient.

And that was something you weren’t used to.

You tried everything. You wore the sexiest outfits. You made flirtatious comments. You pushed every button you knew would make him snap.

But Bucky just watched you. Always watchful. Always calm.

The lack of reaction was maddening.

But it was that last night—when you were so tired of being ignored—that you decided to confront him. You were done waiting.

The Tower was empty again, except for you and Bucky. You knew he’d be in the gym again—he always was.

When you walked in, you didn’t say a word. You just walked up to him, grabbed his collar, and kissed him.

It was desperate. It was messy.

It was exactly what you wanted.

Bucky froze for a moment, not expecting it, but when he didn’t pull away, when he kissed you back with an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body, you realized—maybe this time, you weren’t the one in control.

Bucky’s hands gripped your arms, but he didn’t pull you away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with more force than you were used to, his hands now roaming, pulling you closer.

When he pulled away, his eyes were dark, and his voice was low, husky. “I warned you, Y/N.”

You smirked, feeling a rush of power. “Yeah, well, I don’t listen.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, but there was no humor in it. “You will. Eventually.”

Breaking the Brat

Part Six

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

The days following that night felt like a tightrope walk—one wrong move, and you would fall. But there was something intoxicating about it. Bucky had made it clear he was done tolerating your behavior, but the power dynamic between you both had shifted. There was no going back, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

Bucky didn’t let things slide, though. You could feel his presence everywhere you went, like a constant reminder of your recklessness. His eyes followed you. The way he looked at you, all sharp edges and unspoken threats, had you on edge in ways you never imagined.

The next time you saw him, you weren’t sure how things would play out. It was a casual party at Tony’s mansion, the kind of event that usually left you feeling invincible. But tonight, something was different. Bucky had been quieter than usual, lurking in the background, watching you as you flitted from one person to another. You could feel his gaze, like a weight on your back. But you weren’t going to let it bother you. You were untouchable, weren’t you?

The music was loud, the room filled with the usual mix of celebrities, billionaires, and socialites. You could already feel your heels digging into the floor as you made your way to the bar, a playful smirk on your lips. You weren’t about to let Bucky’s behavior dictate how you had fun.

But, of course, Bucky was there. Watching. Always watching.

You noticed him in the corner, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. He was talking to Steve, but his eyes never left you. Every move you made, every glance you cast, every word you said, seemed to send a ripple through him. It was driving you crazy, the way he had this hold on you. You could feel the tension between you both, building like a slow burn.

And then, just like before, you saw him. The older man, tall, graying hair, expensive suit. He was alone at the bar. Perfect.

You walked over, letting the sway of your hips catch his attention. He looked up, eyes widening as they took you in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice smooth, a hint of admiration behind it.

You leaned against the bar, giving him a sly smile. “Just looking for someone to have some fun with. You seem like you might be a good candidate.”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass as he studied you. “I think I could be persuaded.”

The instant his hand landed on your waist, you knew you had him. He was eating out of your palm, just like you wanted. But then you caught Bucky’s stare from across the room. He was rigid now, his eyes narrowed, his face tense with something that could have been fury—or something worse.

You felt a thrill rush through you.

You led the older man to the couch in the corner, barely glancing back at Bucky. You wanted him to feel it. The jealousy, the frustration, the helplessness. You wanted him to see you as something untouchable, something out of his control.

But before the man could do anything more than adjust his tie, Bucky appeared in front of you, his cold gaze fixed on the older man for a split second before he turned back to you. His voice was sharp, barely contained. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

You looked up at him, your lips curling into an innocent smile, though you could tell from the vein popping in his neck that he wasn’t playing anymore. “I’m not done here yet,” you said, but there was no mistaking the challenge in your tone.

Bucky’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist with enough force to make you gasp. “You don’t get to make that decision.” He jerked you to your feet, dragging you past the man who was still trying to process the sudden intervention.

“Bucky—”

“You think you can flirt your way into whatever you want, don’t you?” His voice was low, each word like a warning. “You think this game is funny, but you’re out of your depth.”

You pulled your wrist from his grip, but the way he was looking at you made you feel cornered, trapped in a way that only fueled your defiance. “Maybe I just like making you mad,” you shot back, not even trying to hide the challenge in your voice.

“Is that it? You get off on making me angry?” His eyes darkened, the tension between you both thickening with each passing second.

You tilted your head, the playful edge in your voice never wavering. “Maybe I do.”

For a brief moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence crackling like a live wire. You could feel the pulse in your throat, the heat building between you both, thick and heavy. But just as quickly, Bucky’s expression shifted.

He grabbed your arm again, this time not in anger, but with a calculated force. He was done with the game.

Without a word, he dragged you to a private room, locking the door behind you. The silence inside felt suffocating, and you could feel the weight of his presence, pressing in on all sides.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was harsh, the words coming out through gritted teeth. You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed, still maintaining your playful attitude.

“What? He was just a little older than usual. What’s the harm in flirting with someone who can buy me anything I want?” Bucky’s eyes burned with frustration as he took a step closer, crowding you against the wall.

“The harm is that you’re reckless. That man was old enough to be your father. What the hell are you trying to prove?” You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension between you both crackling like electricity. But you weren’t scared—not even a little.

“Are you mad that I wasn’t flirting with you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling the rush of satisfaction return. You took a step forward, closing the distance between you, and kissed his jaw softly, just enough to leave your lips tingling with the sensation of his skin. Bucky stiffened at the contact, his expression flickering for a moment before his jaw clenched.

“This isn’t a game, Y/N,” he growled. “You think you can toy with me like that? I don’t give a damn about who you’re flirting with, but don’t be reckless.” You smirked, stepping back slightly, letting your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “So what, you’re going to punish me for having a little fun? You don’t get to control me, Bucky.”

You were too close to him now, too close to that dangerous edge. The way he was looking at you… it was like a warning. You could feel the tension in his body, in the way his hands gripped your wrists like he was trying to anchor himself.

“You’ve made your point, Y/N,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “But you’re not going to keep doing this. Not while I’m around.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall with that same cocky smirk. “And what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Bucky stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You have no idea what you’re messing with.” His voice was tight, every word soaked with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “You think you can keep pushing me? Keep playing games with me? I’m not like the other men you’ve been with.”

You laughed, though there was a nervous tremor behind it. “Oh, I know. You’re different. You’re better.”

His lips curled into a dark smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate you for much longer.”

And in that moment, something inside you snapped. You pushed off the wall, your hand reaching out to tug at his shirt. “Then make me stop, Bucky,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Then, with a low growl, his lips crashed against yours. It was harsh, unrelenting. His grip on your arms was firm, his body pressing you against the wall as if he were determined to break you.

And, in a way, he was.

Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. His metal fingers brushed your jaw, cold against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the fire burning between you. His touch wasn’t soft—it was controlling, deliberate.

You should have been scared.

You weren’t.

Instead, you smirked up at him, eyes glittering with mischief, waiting to see how far you could push him. “You gonna lecture me all night, old man, or are you just mad I got someone else’s attention?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. His thumb traced your lower lip again, slower this time, like he was testing something—testing you. “That what you wanted? To make me jealous?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, even as your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs. “Seemed like it worked.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your chin suddenly dropped, only for his hands to find your hips instead. Without warning, he spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. The cold surface met your palms, your breath hitching as he leaned in close, his chest flush against your back.

“You have no idea what you’re playing with, princess,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dangerously low. “You think this is a game? Flirting with men like that, just to get a rise out of me?”

You swallowed hard, though you kept up the act, arching your back slightly, pressing yourself against him just to see how far you could push him. “You make it too easy, Sarge.”

Bucky let out a dark chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His metal hand gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he was reminding you of the difference between the two of you. “You think you’re untouchable ‘cause you’re a Stark? That daddy’s money keeps you safe?”

You turned your head slightly, your cheek brushing the wall, a defiant glint in your eyes. “So what? You gonna teach me a lesson?”

Bucky’s hand slid lower, gripping your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers squeezed, just enough to make your breath catch. “Someone has to,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

The tension crackled between you like a live wire, thick with something neither of you wanted to name. His fingers flexed against your skin, as if he was holding himself back, teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

Then, just as suddenly as he had pressed you against the wall, he pulled back.

You spun around, eyes blazing, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “That’s it?” you taunted, tilting your head. “All that talk, and you’re just gonna walk away?”

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice quieter than before, but twice as dangerous, he said, “who said I was walking away?” The door clicked, signalling it being locked. His dark eyes found yours once more, he closed the space between you both.

His hands were gripping your body, and you pressed your chest into his. Your tongues intertwined and grinding your body against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he picks you up and sets you on the table, hiking up your dress to your waist. He pauses, “no panties? Naughty girl..” you squeaked when his cold metal fingers dipped inside your warm wet walls.

You gasped his name, as he pumped his fingers continuously. He added another finger, you whined at the stretch “Buck— its s’much”

“Shut up and take it, you were so desperate before now you crumble at my fingers?” He asked mockingly. He sucked on your neck, he didn’t care for being gentle, you didn’t deserve it— and you didn’t want it. You like the roughness, the control he had over you. You squeezed down on his fingers, your body twitching. “You gonna cum doll?” You moaned, “yes”

Right when you were about to he pulled out, staring down at you with a cold look. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. If you want to— beg me.”

Your eyes widened, really? He was making you bed for it? As if!

He resumed pumping his fingers, his other hand wrapped around your throat tightly— not enough to block air restriction. You would feel the knot in your stomach tighten, and right when you were about to cum again— he pulled out. You whined, “bucky..!”

“Beg or you don’t get to cum.”

You glared, not believing him. Until he did it again, and again. He was edging you and you were about to lose your mind. “Please.. bucky”

“Please what,doll?” He smirked, “please let me cum!” Satisfied, he thrust his fingers in once more, finally bringing you to an orgasm. You screamed his name, luckily the loud music outside prevented it from being heard from the party. “Good girl..” he kissed your head as you panted.

Then he flipped you over, pressing your head into the table. “Bucky!” You gasped. He slapped your ass, watching as it ripples. He gently touches the spot that he hit, it slowly turning a red colour. “I know you like that so don’t even try to hide it, doll” you whined once more, and without warning, he thrust inside.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth parts to scream his name. He fucks you senseless, listening as you get cock drunk— to stupid and fucked out to comprehend his words. Degrading you and he occasionally smacked your ass, his hips roughly snapping into yours. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back and pressing your back to his chest. He grabs your head and turns it to face him, kissing your mouth.

You feel yourself slipping, on the verge of climaxing again. “You look so pretty like this, doll” your makeup was smeared, cry’s watery and a bit of droll leaking from your mouth. You cum at his words. He continues thrusting, dropping your hair, and letting you fall on your stomach on the table once more. He threw his own head back, his cock twitching inside you before he came.

Ropes and ropes of cum, he pulled out with a pant, watching as your pussy was clenching around nothing, leaking of a mixture of both of your cums.

He smirks at his work, touching your ass before zipping up his pants. Whispering, “you’re mine, doll” before leaving.

You were breathless, and feel to your knees. You legs couldn’t stand— not without shaking. Still, you felt a sense of achievement.

This was far from over

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 2 months ago

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Easy Because It's You

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Prompt - ‘I looked at him as a friend until I realised I loved him.’

Notes - Requests are open again, please feel free to send a request in!!

It was an easy thing to do, falling in love with Peter Parker. It was easy and it came so naturally that you didn’t even realise it had happened. One day he was the random kid your dad had brought home, the random kid who was suddenly always in the lab, working alongside you and Tony or working near you on his own things and then suddenly he was the boy you were spending every weekend with, making plans that didn’t involve the lab, walking the streets of New York together, laughing until your ribs ached and finding that one day you knew Peter Parker like the back of your hand.

Falling in love with him was the easiest thing you had ever done.

It was a while before you even realised you were in love, for so long you had been content to be his friend, to have him at your side in the only way you thought you could. It was your dad that pointed out your feelings, one night during a quiet moment in the lab.

Neither of you were working on any one project in particular that night, instead you both sat on the old beat up couch, take out from hours before sat discarded on the table. The silence had settled between you and it was nice, up until Tony decided to break the silence, sending your mind into overdrive, thinking of every moment you and Peter had had together since you’d been introduced.

“You know you can tell me that you and Pete are dating.” Tony said, his voice soft to match the peacefulness between you.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion, wondering how your dad had come to that conclusion before realisation hit you.

You liked Peter.

Of course you did. The strangest part of this was that you were only just realising it now, you’d known Peter for a year now, you spent pretty much all of your free time with the boy and yet you hadn’t realised it.

You hadn't realised that when you were having a bad day it was Peter you wanted, it was Peter you called and it was Peter who would swing over without hesitation to make sure you were ok. Whenever you got good news it was Peter you were excited to tell. Whenever a new movie came out or you heard of a new place to eat at, it was Peter you invited. When you laughed until tears filled your eyes it was because of Peter, when you smiled brightly and felt so much love in your heart it was because of Peter.

It was always Peter.

How had you not realised it?

“Oh my god, kid.” Tony laughed, pulling you into him and you let yourself sink against him, laughing with him in disbelief. “You didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know.” You agreed with another huff of laughter, the two of you sitting there just laughing.

“You gonna tell him?” Tony murmured after more silence passed and you let yourself think it over.

Now that you realised that you liked Peter, you also realised that Peter liked you too. Now that you let yourself comb through the memories in a new light, it was laughable that you had never realised it before.

“Yeah.” You told him softly, knowing that your relationship with Peter wouldn’t change much, the two of you had practically been together for so long now.

And you had been right. Once everything was out in the open, once the two of you realised you were idiots, nothing changed, except now you knew what Peter’s lips felt like against yours and how it felt to be held by him.

You still remembered the conversation, still remember how nervous Peter had seemed.

“Can we talk?” You asked him as you walked back towards the tower, Peter’s head shooting over to you, eyes wide.

“Is, um, yeah, of course, is everything okay?” Peter stammered out and you smiled at him, you couldn’t have stopped yourself from smiling if you tried, wondering how you hadn’t managed to see your feelings before.

“I like you.” You said easily, not feeling any anxiety around the words, “I really, really like you. Being with you is the best part of my day, any day that we don’t talk…it’s just not a good day. I like you, Peter.”

You watched Peter carefully for a reaction, smiling at the ways his eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks, disbelief written across his face as he stared at you, his mouth opening and closing.

“Y/N,” He breathed out, seemingly at a loss before he shook his head. “You like me?”

“Yeah.” You laughed softly, watching his look of disbelief morph into a wide, blinding smile.

“You like me.” He breathed out, this time in relief, stepping closer to you and you let him reach out and pull you close, let him rest your foreheads together. “You like me.”

“I’m really hoping you’re going to say you like me back at some point.” You laugh and he joins in, his laugh slightly breathless.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I like you, I’ve liked you for…God, I’ve liked you for so long.” He told you and now it was your turn to look at him in disbelief. “I just didn’t think you’d like me.”

The next year was spent practically joined at the hip. You spent nights sleeping at May’s, the woman getting a soft look on her face, smiling warmly whenever she saw the two of you together, watching the way Peter dotted on you, watching the way Peter lit up whenever you were so much as mentioned. On the nights you weren’t at May’s you were at the tower or the compound, after a talk between Peter and Tony had settled Peter’s nerves, realising that the man loved the fact you and Peter had fallen in love, as if there had ever been a chance that Tony was going to send Peter away and forbid the two of you from being together.

“And we’re going on a field trip to MOMA tomorrow, me and Ned are so excited!” You smiled warmly, against Peter’s chest, the two of you tangled up on your bed in the tower as you listened to Peter ramble on about his trip, feeling more content than you ever had.

Peter’s hands combed through your hair and you cuddled further into him, your palm resting on his stomach before you turned your head to face him.

“I love you.” You murmured, the words leaving your lips for the first time, needing to say them.

You had stressed over those three little words, convinced yourself you couldn’t just say them on any random day, it had to be special. It was only now, laying here in the quiet of the night that you realised this was special, how you felt now, you’d never felt before, the love you felt for him was special enough that it should be said.

Peter got the same look on his face that he had when you told him you liked him, his eyes going comically wide, his mouth parting in disbelief before a smile stretched across his face. He shifted the two of you so he could cup your face softly, bringing your foreheads together and brushing your cheekbone with his thumb.

“I love you too.” He grinned, voice full of excitement and warmth. “God, I love you so much.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night, cuddled close together, trading soft kisses and whispered confessions.

The next morning Peter had cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss and then another one and another one until FRIDAY interrupted, telling him he’d be late if he didn’t leave soon and he grinned down at you, still laying in bed, and kissed you once more.

“I’ll meet you later?” Peter asked as he picked up his backpack and you nodded at him, smiling brightly at him. “I love you!”

“I love you too, have fun!”

Peter gave you one last bright smile before he left the room and you let your head fall back against the pillow, smiling up at the ceiling, the warm feeling in your chest, heavy with love, feeling like it would never go away.

It did though.

That warm feeling of love was ripped from your chest when an alert came through whilst you were sitting in the lab with your dad. You watched as he stepped closer, pressing a kiss on your head before suiting up and heading out, leaving you alone with FRIDAY pulling up multiple live feeds of what was happening.

It was nerve wracking enough every time you had to watch your dad flying around in the Iron Man suit, the anxiety gripping you. You thought that feeling couldn’t get worse, the feeling of terror and dread, wondering if today was the day he didn’t come home. It was overwhelming and it never got easier.

Yet somehow it paled in comparison to watching Spider-Man swing onto the scene, your dad and your boyfriend fighting together and you felt like you'd been dunked in cold water, felt like the rug had been swept out from under your feet. You couldn’t catch your breath.

“What is he doing there?” You asked the empty room, FRIDAY staying silent until she had something to add.

“Miss Stark.” The AI said as softly as she could and you flinched violently. “Mr Parker is currently 43,000 feet in the air and climbing.”

“What?” You exclaim, hands shaking before you grip the metal table top. “Patch me through to him!”

“Y/N!” Peter said breathlessly and your heart was hammering against your chest.

“Pete…” You breathed out, voice breaking around the word. “What are you doing?”

“I think I’m going to space.” He said, his own voice trembling before he took a breath and you didn’t need to see him to know he was putting on a mask, making himself seem braver than he was, making himself be Spider-Man and not Peter Parker. “It’s going to be ok, whatever happens, I'll be back soon.”

“Peter, please. I love you” You begged, the words heavy with fear and Peter forced his voice to stay steady despite how scared he was, despite the fact he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I love yo-” Peter started but he never got the chance to finish his words, the connection cutting out and you cried, you cried and begged FRIDAY to track him, to get the connection back.

“Miss Stark, I am sorry but the connection has been lost.”

“FRIDAY, where is he? Where’s my dad?” You asked, a sinking feeling in your chest, feeling like your whole world had just been ripped from you.

“Mr Stark’s signal was lost moments after Mr Parker’s.” FRIDAY said as apologetically as she could.

You sobbed, you sobbed and screamed and threw everything off the table, the lab thrashed by the end of the day, leaving you to sit alone to cry in the mess.

It didn’t get any better. Weeks passed, half the world disappeared and you felt empty. You hadn’t slept since it happened, not until your body physically couldn’t stand to be awake and forced you into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning and waking up with two names on your lips each time.

They were both gone, they’d gone and they hadn’t come back.

They were gone and you were still here and you tried. You forced yourself into the workshop, though the first day you were consumed by grief and memories of working with your dad and Peter but you forced yourself to figure something out.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were figuring out but you spent weeks in the lab, the dark circles under your eyes looked like you’d been punched, you hadn’t eaten properly since that day.

You hated that you were still here.

You were still here and they were gone.

You were at the compound when Rhodey came in to get you, having forced you out of the tower and in with the remaining avengers. His eyes were watery and he couldn’t say anything, his mouth opened but no words came out.

“What is it?” You asked him but he shook his head and could only gesture for you to follow him.

So you did. You forced your aching body up, forced yourself to follow Rhodey out into the cool, night air, flinching slightly as you did. You felt numb to everything, numb to the touch on your shoulder from Steve, numb to Pepper’s soft gaze.

Numb to the ship landing in front of you.

It wasn’t until Rhodey nudged you, forcing you to look up that you felt something for the first time in weeks.

You looked up, watching as a frail looking Tony Stark stepped off the ship and you couldn’t breath, you couldn’t get any air to your lungs, could only stare at him, taking a step closer to him before he spoke, looking at Steve as he did.

“Couldn’t stop him.” He said as Steve helped him down the stairs of the ship. “I lost the kid.”

Your whole world stopped again, your knees buckling as you stepped closer to your dad, before they gave up, Tony just about catching you in his weak arms with Steve’s help, the super soldier taking most of your weight as you sobbed, heart wrenching, painful sobs that had everyone around you tearing up.

“No, no, please.” You begged nobody in particular, feeling Tony wrap his arms around you, his hand holding your head to his chest as you cried and he cried silently with you.

You had your dad back, something you thought would never happen, you thought he was gone forever but he was here and you were flooded with relief but battling that relief for your dad was grief. The grief wrecked you, it wiped you out, it consumed you in a way you had never felt before.

Before you could hope. It was the smallest bit of hope but you could hope, you hadn’t seen him turn to dust so maybe, maybe he was ok but now you knew, you knew for certain he was gone.

He was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

It wasn’t fair, you had only had two years with him, two beautiful, love filled years but it wasn’t fair. You were supposed to have years, you were supposed to have forever.

You would have to miss him for longer than you had ever known him.

Thank you so much for reading, if you want to add yourself to my taglist there is a link in my bio!

Tom Holland’s Peter Parker Taglist:

@taygrls, @evvy96, @missabsey, @valtism, @ajordan2020, @ur6annevasion @hallecarey1, @buckylov3r, @venuskywaker, @jimins-favblackie, @fandomaddict505, @lokisdeadlol, @f1nalgirlz, , @loverforoldermen, @bucky-whothehellisbucky, @wearehufflepuffs, , @ajpendragon, @sammyj0, @deadlymistletoe, @criimsonjiinx, @iamawkwardandshy, @aria-chan, @loserbaby66, @hnch33rios, @hankgreenspelicanstrapon, @stand-tall-pineapple, @cuupiid, @rottenstyx, @mads-weasley, @asherhunterx, @filmsbyblair @halepack2011 , @black-rose-29,

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frost-queen · 1 month ago

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A love game (Reader!Stark x Bucky Barnes)

Requested by: @kombuchaqueen04 Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @melsunshine , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @slythetic, @bitchybananaflower, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @evyiione

You still remembered it. The first time you laid eyes on him. On James Bucky Barnes.

Party at Stark towers for no reason as it being your brother’s idea. You remembered how you were. Walking, still wearing your sunglasses and a bottle of wine in your hand as you got out of the elevator. Nearing your brother at the sight at someone new by Steve’s side. – “Who’s beside the popsicle?” – you asked leaning against your brother.

Slowly lowering your glasses further down your nose. – “Barnes. Bucky, a friend of Steve’s.” – he responded, making you remove your sunglasses. – “Ah so popsicle number two.” – you let out with a smirk. Tugging the glasses in the chest pocket of your brother’s shirt with a tap. Giving him a sweet smirk to just accept it. Tony rolled with his eyes, taking your sunglasses out. Placing them on the counter before going over to Banner. You neared the bar where he was sitting. Smiling when Steve got up to leave. Seeing him head for the bathroom.

With a weary sigh you let yourself drop into the seat beside him. – “A drink?” – you offered, showing him the bottle of wine in your hand. He looked briefly confused back at you, before shaking his head. – “No… thank you.” – placing a hand over his glass. – “Nonsense.” – you responded holding your hand out to the bar. From one of the top shelves, you moved a glass with your mind to come to you. Falling perfectly in your hand as you set it down. Scrunching your nose at him with a smile.

Bucky swallowed nervously as you poured a glass for him. You shoved it over to him. – “Like I said, no thank you.” – he repeated moving the glass further away. – “You seriously aren’t going to let a lady drink alone are you?” – you responded shoving the glass back at him. Bucky let his gaze go from you to the glass. Drinking the content down in one gulp. Setting the glass firmly down before taking his leave.

There and then, you think you must have fallen for him. For you couldn’t get him out of his head.

You smiled, quickening up your pace to fall in line with his step. Passing by Sam and Zemo. – “Hey handsome.” – you breathed out, slowing your pace down to his. Bucky glanced briefly your way with a contracted face. – “Are you warmed-up or do you need a lesson with two?” – you teased knocking your elbow against his arm to poke him more.

Bucky swallowed nervously, picking up his pace. You quickened up your pace as well to keep in line with him. – “You could show me a thing or two, Bucks?” – you spoke winking at him, grabbing his metal arm.

The moment your hands were on his, he started moving faster. The abrupt movement made you let go of him. Watching him run off. – “Ha!”- you heard loud behind you. Looking over your shoulder at Sam laughing. Annoyed you moved your hand, shoving a trashcan right in front of him.

“Ha!” – you repeated with mockery as Sam knocked into it, nearly tripping over it. Zemo snickering loud. You slowed your pace down to meet with theirs. – “Someone’s been needy.” – Zemo said as you raised your hand to warn him. He immediately kept quiet, yet kept his smirk up.

You rubbed your hands together at the entrance of the club. Already hearing the deafening music coming from inside. Zemo spun around to Sam, walking backwards for a bit. – “You better keep an eye out for our party girl.” – he teased pointing at you.

You rolled your eyes at him. – “You boys are just lame.” – you responded coming up to the club. Coming to stand beside Bucky, who nervously looked at the club. – “Don’t worry handsome, I’ll show you the ropes of dancing.” – you swung your arm over his shoulder. Bucky cleared his throat, moving his head away.

When Sharon appeared in the door opening, he removed your arm from around him. Sharon urged you inside. – “I’ll call you when the buyer has arrived. Keep your phones in check.” – she told you all. – “What are we to do in the meantime?” – Sam questioned. Sharon quirked her eyebrow up.

“It’s a club Sam, figure the rest out.” – was her response, throwing her hands up. You called it out from excitement, grabbing Bucky by his hand. Pulling him with you through the crowd. Zemo placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder, but immediately pulled it up at the sight of his glare.

Shaking his head, Sam went after you. – “Stark wait up!” – he called out. His voice dying out over the blasting club music. – “Y/n stop!” – Bucky called out, pulling his hand out of yours hard. It made you look in slight shock back at him at his sudden brute force. – “It’s a club, Bucky. Live a little.” – you told him, getting up to his ear to make sure he would hear you. Bucky’s eyes widened, quickly turning his head away.

Bucky huffed loud, heading over to the bar. Taking a seat. The moment he was gone, some guy already caught your eye. He came moving closer, ready to approach you but turned quick around when Zemo came placing a hand on your shoulder. – “Show us some dance moves Stark.” – he gestured at the dancefloor as you knew he was just teasing you. Sam sighed loud with a roll of his eyes. Walking past the two of you to join Bucky at the bar. – “You got it Zemo!” – you told him, accepting the challenge. For you couldn’t resist a party.

You started dancing. Swaying your hips and letting your hands go down your body. Zemo threw you kissed hands to applaud you. Soon people joined, coming in closer to you as you simply attracted them. A guy came gliding up your back, pressing a hand on your hip. You shoved him off with a dance move. Taking his hand to twirl out. Posing with your hand up, kicking a foot up to knock him back.

You then placed your hand in Zemo’s offering hand, nearing him again. Zemo brought you close to him, placing a hand on your back. Swaying from side to side, his cheek close to yours. Your gaze fell on Bucky and Sam at the bar. Seeing how they were clearly looking at the two of you. Sam’s expression with disgust as Bucky’s expression was clenched. You moved Zemo away from you, patting him on the shoulder.

Zemo shrugged his shoulders, dancing on his own as you moved over to the bar. Throwing your arms around both of them. – “Fancy a dance boys?” – you called out. – “Ha! You think you can make our old timer strip a dance.” – Sam laughed out hinting at Bucky. You turned your head to smile at Bucky. – “Just give me three seconds and he’ll no longer be shy.” – you outed teasingly.

Bucky shoved the barstool back, jumping off. You blinked confused at his sudden departure. – “Did I say something wrong?” – you asked Sam. Sam shrugged his shoulders. You decided to go in pursuit, wanting to know what you did wrong. – “Bucky!” – you called out loud over the blasting music. Unsure if he would hear you. Bucky kept moving through the crowd, creating a distance.

Making his way across as he reached the men’s toilets. The door was open as you knew you couldn’t follow him in there. – “Bucky!” – you called out, shutting the door with a thud using your mind. The door slammed shut right before Bucky wanted to enter. He took a shuddering step back. Turning around to face you. Hands slightly up as he quickly turned his face away. Taking a run for it.

“Bucks!” – you panted out. Pausing briefly to rethink his action. Was he perhaps scared of you? Scared of your powers? While else would he react so frantically around your abilities. The last thing you wanted was for him to be scared of you. Sighing loud, you turned around. Heading back to the bar. Taking a seat somewhere remotely. The bartender poured you a glass as you could use it. You let your hand rest on your cheek, letting your finger go over the top.

No more interest in partying as Bucky was on your mind. You felt like crying that he was scared of you. You only wanted him to like you. Wanted his attention. Approaching him in the only way that you were familiar with. Having learned the ropes when growing up with Tony.

It was just your personality that flirting came out so easily. Sighing again, you covered up your face with your hands to not cry. The vibes for partying completely gone as now you just wanted to wallow in self-pity that Bucky was scared of you. For why else would he keep running away from you?

“Where is Y/n?” – Bucky asked Sam at the bar further up. Sam pulled his shoulders up. – “I don’t know, she was in pursuit of you. Didn’t you see her?” – he responded. Bucky ignored his question, not wanting to respond to it. Slightly worried, he looked around for a sight of you. – “I thought you were supposed to keep eyes on her.” – Bucky called out, close to his ear.

“She went after you!” – Sam shouted back that it wasn’t his fault. That looking after you was a shared agreement. Bucky sighed soft, moving away from the bar. – “Where are you going?” – Sam called out but Bucky couldn’t hear him anymore. Pushing himself through the crowd in search for you. A girl came squealing loud at his presence, throwing her arms around him.

Bucky politely removed her hands from him with a forced smile. Pushing his way further through the crowd. Rushing himself through. Lights blinding and effecting his sight. He searched the entire dancefloor for that was the first place he would find you. When it felt like an endless pool, he moved back closer to the side. Knocking against a person, turning round to politely apologize with his hands up.

It was then that his eyes narrowed. Settling upon the bar as he seemed to distinguish you. A guy leaning against the counter by your side. Bucky’s jaw tensed as he made his way over. Grabbing the guy roughly by his arm, pulling him away from you. – “Beat it!” – he said with a serious glare at him. The man scrambled off as he heard you sigh loud. Tilting his head curiously, he came setting his hand on the bar close to you.

Leaning in to get a good look of your facial expressions. You turned your posture away from him. – “What’s up with you Stark?” – he asked confused. He wasn’t used to this coming from you. Biting your lip, you tried to hold it in, but the emotions took over. Making you spin back to him on the barstool.

“Look I’m sorry okay! I’m sorry that I’m scary!” – you called out with a desperate hand gesture. – “What? What are you talking about Y/n?” – Bucky responded grabbing both your hands to lower them. – “I’m an abomination and I am sorry you are scared of me.” – you cried out, lips pouting. Bucky visibly blinked confused. – “I’m sorry what? I’m not scared of you Y/n.” – he responded, making it your turn to blink confused.

“I don’t scare you?” – you repeated to be sure you had heard him correctly. – “You make me nervous.” – he responded, looking shy away. – “I do?” – you questioned. Bucky exhaled soft, coming to sit at your side. – “You always catch me off guard with your flirting. I’m not used to women flirting with me so bluntly Y/n. You never even give me the chance to flirt first.”

A bright smile curled up your lips. – “So you want to flirt with me?” – you spoke. – “Is that truly the only thing you have remembered from my entire speech?” – he replied seeing you shake your head. – “Okay flirt with me.” – you told him, poking him in the chest. – “Au…” – he chuckled out. – “I’m not going to flirt with you on command.” – making him turn his gaze bashful away.

“Come on Bucks.” – you poked him again in the chest to annoy him a bit more. You kept poking him when he wouldn’t give you any attention. – “Alright enough!” – he called out, grabbing you firm by the hand. Pulling you off the barstool, moving with you through the crowd of the club. Grinning from ear to ear, you couldn’t wait for him to flirt with you. For he wasn’t scared, he was just flustered.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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seancekitsch · 8 months ago

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Can’t Stand Me Now; a modern Aegon x Stark! reader fic

Y/N Stark and Aegon Targaryen. Aegon Targaryen and Y/N Stark. Inseparable since both eldest children met at Kings Landing University, until they weren’t. One night of drunken passion ruins it all.

Five years later, Aegon is coming off a broken engagement to Larissa Lannister and sends a risky Instagram DM to none other than Y/n Stark.

warnings for the series: smut, smoking, drinking, friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, more to come as needed

Prologue: Not if You Were the Last Junkie on Earth

Chapter one: The Party’s Crashing Us

Chapter two: Everything is Embarrassing

Chapter three: Gift Horse

Chapter four: Sat in Your Lap

Chapter five: My Kind of Woman

Chapter six: House of Jealous Lovers

Playlist here <3

#aegon targaryen x reader #modern aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x you #stark reader

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xmalereader · 1 year ago

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Tom! Peter Parker x Stark! Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: I need a Itimidating Reader x Tom! Peter Parker. Like reader could be Captain American or Iron Man's son and he has been dating Peter secretly cause you know Peter is shy about things and doesn't want to make things big. So reader holds back but he had enough when one days he witnessed Thompson and other bullies doing the worst to Peter. So he does what any boyfriend will do, show those bullies their place and maybe maybe, Avengers comes and gives a piece of their mind as well to those bullies. Cause I like Avengers being a found family with them being protective of their youngest member 😭😭🤌🏻🤌🏻

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, slight angst, reader is Tony starks son, mentions of Morgan and Pepper, Ned being terrible at secrets, MJ supports, mature language, slight kissing, short shot, flash is a bully, mentions of violence, mentions of hero work, teenage love, school stuff.

TAGS: @nobodylivesson

WC: 2k

NOTES: I tried my best to suit to your request, I wrote this one late at night and was probably half asleep after completing it 🥲, but either way I hope you really enjoy it! I wasn’t able to bring in the rest of the superhero family since I didn’t know how to slip it in without going off track. But either way I love the whole superfamily fics and the concept of Stony adopting Peter ( ´∀｀) those are my comfort fics.

Peter wasn’t ashamed of who he was dating he just didn’t make it a big deal that he was dating Starks son. When Y/n joined the school he had already known him from the time that he was working at Starks internship. He’d see him around the lab either helping his father on a few side projects or just to bother Tony into leaving work and getting a proper meal and rest.

While Tony was away it left both Peter and Y/n on their own and giving them time to actually know each other. Their side conversations turned into flirting and then light touches until Y/n was the first to make the move on Peter and asking him out. Peter was a shy kid and never got the attention from people he liked nor was he good at socializing without stuttering or hesitating on his conversations.

Ever since Y/n joined Peters school the two were closer than ever and enjoyed their time together. Peter kept their relationship a secret in order to prevent the other students from finding out that he’s dating Tony Starks kid. Even if he told anyone about it they wouldn’t believe that he’s dating someone like Y/n.

It didn’t take long for Ned to find out that Peter was dating.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ned, his best friend since childhood. The reason he never told him was because he knew how terriable his friend was at keeping secrets. When he found out that he was the cities hero there were times that he almost slipped up and exposed his secret to those around him and always had to remind his friend that no one was suppose to know that he’s Spider-Man.

Ned had caught the two making out on Peters bed.

Peter had forgotten about inviting Ned over for a weekend sleepover due to him being distracted by Y/n coming over and having dinner with both him and his aunt May. After that they’ve left the table to spend time in Peters room which resulted into them making out like most teenagers would and then getting caught by Ned.

His poor friend could only stare in shock when he found out and after a couple of minutes of shock he finally started to ask them question such as; “How did you meet? When did you start dating? Are you really dating Starks son?”

The sleepover turned out to be a very interesting night for Ned.

Ned was still getting used to the fact that Peter was dating Y/n, but Tony wasn’t too happy about the fact that his son was dating Peter the kid that he chose to pass down his work to. Y/n did work with Tony but the kid was never interested in becoming an inventor or an engineer and instead focused more on things that made him feel happy. Tony never pressured his son to take over and instead accepted his goals and dreams.

Peter expected Tony to interrogate him when finding out that he’s dating his son, but instead of being asked on why he was dating his son. His question so we’re mainly aimed towards Y/n who ate in silence during their dinner together with Pepper sitting next to Tony and his sister Morgan sitting across from Peter.

“Why him?”

“Because I like him.”

“Why not some other guy or girl?”

“Do you not want me to date Peter?”

“I don’t want you distracting him from work.”

The conversation was mainly between Y/n and Tony while Pepper was kind enough to speak with Peter about school and his aunt and how they were doing, trying to keep both son and father from killing each other while having their first dinner. By the end of the day Peter became a favorite to the Stark family especially with Morgan who loved Peters attention and placed puzzle games with him winning the little girls heart over in less than seconds.

Things were going fine until the bullying picked up at school.

Flash had noticed how close Peter was being with Y/n during lunch and class hours, thinking that Peter was trying to get extra brownie points with Mr. Stark and befriending his son in order to get closer to the man. He knew that Starks kid was going to be in their school and had grown jealous by how close Peter was getting, ruining his opportunity to befriend Y/n.

When Y/n wasn’t around, Flash and his goons would quickly go after Peter. The good thing is that Peter was great at escaping and was always getting around from Flashes wrath, either running inside a full classroom during lunch hours or running outside where he’d climb onto the roof top in order to avoid Flash.

Peter never told Y/n and he never found out.

The bullying never happened when Y/n was around and whenever Flash approached them he’d always fake his emotions which Peter hated seeing. He could see through Flashes fake smiles and laughs when he conversed with Y/n, trying to act like he’s the most nicest person ever to meet.

Peter wasn’t the only one who saw through flash’s lies so did Y/n. He could see a liar from across the room and knew how they acted. He spent enough time working in his dads company to sniff out liars and had gotten very good at it.

It was the week that Y/n was suppose to work with his father on a new invention, testing them out and figuring out if they have potential to be sold to the public, but recently Y/n had joined a club with Peter and took place after school hours. He’d shoot his father a quick text that he wasn’t going to the lab and quickly rushed off to join the club in hopes of spending more time with Peter and their other members.

When entering the room he finds MJ and the other students sitting on a round table, discussing about their new plans for the club. His eyes search the room and doesn’t find Peter which makes him frown a little before sitting next to MJ. “Where’s Pete?” He whispers to her and noticed how her lips twitched into a smirk.

“Miss your little boyfriend already? Don’t you guys have all periods together?”

MJ had figured Peter and Y/n out in less than seconds when they first met resulting in Y/n befriending her. He rolls his eyes at her comment. “We aren’t always in class together…he has biology eighth period and I have history.” He mumbled out the last part knowing that he wasn’t really providing much and that he and Peter did in fact have majority of classes together.

“You guys are gross.” MJ comments with a grin on her face. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Y/n had dealt with MJ’s teasing for a long time that he’s grown used to it. He gives her a small nudge to the shoulder and focused back to the other who were still planing out this years activities within the club, writing things down and getting the teachers opinion. It went on for ten minutes at Y/n was the first to realize that Peter still hadn’t arrived which slowly started to worry Y/n. His instincts were telling him to go look for him.

“I’m going to the bathroom be back in a bit!” He tells the others with a smile before rushing out of the room and down the hall. Whenever Peter came late to the club he always told him before hand, either letting him know that its a spider thing or perhaps his aunt needed him he was always made aware until now.

He didn’t get anything from Peter and started to get worried as he searched the hallways. They were packed a few minutes ago with students getting ready to head home and now the halls were half empty with a few students lingering around and either attending their own club's or waiting on a ride or friend.

As he rounds the corner he noticed a small crowd of students up ahead, raising a brow as he decides to make his way over. It doesn’t take him long to recognize that familiar beat up backpack that Peter always carried. He’s told Peter many times that he could get him a new one since the one he had was already tearing up, but Peter always declined his offer since he wanted to be the one to earn it and claimed that his bag was still in ‘perfect’ condition and survivable.

The sound of someone colliding into the lockers makes him walk faster to the point where he’s jogging over and finding Peter with a pained look on his face. “Trying to win yourself another internship, Parker? One wasn’t enough?” The sound of Flashes voice gets Y/n’s attention.

Noticing the state that Peters in makes him frown.

“You’re always following Y/n around like a puppy, I bet he’s finding you annoying by now. He should hang around someone who isn’t boring.” Said Flash while Peter glared up at him and tried to get back up without being kicked down by one of his little goons again, before Flash could saying anything else a fist connects with his check, startling everyone when he stumbled back in shock.

“Hey—What the hell!?”

Flash had a hand against his bruised up cheek and turns to see who was responsible only to freeze in place when his eyes land on Y/n who was huffing angrily at him. He’s standing in front of Peter in a protective way while glaring at Flash. “Touch my boyfriend again and I’ll make sure to break your nose this time.” He speaks up.

His words catch everyone by surprise, but was surprises everyone is the fact that Y/n and dating Peter.

“Boyfriend?!”

Y/n smirks at Flashes shock. “Yeah and I love his annoying ass.” He points over his shoulder to where Peter is getting back up and blushing deeply by his words, wanting to roll his eyes. Once Y/n finishes his threats and Flash and his little goons run off he’s quick to turn around and face Peter. His angry expression quickly fading into one of worry as he approached Peter and quickly checks him. “Are you hurt anywhere did you break anything? I swear to god if he did I am going to fu—“

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Peter is quick to cut in, chuckling a little before placing his hand on Y/n’s wrist and pulling his hands away form him, reassuring him that he’s fine. “Did you forget? I can heal pretty quick.” His words cause Y/n to pinch his shoulder. “You idiot! I don’t care if you can heal I was worried for you, why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”

“Because I can handle my own battles.” Peter mumbled in response which didn’t make Y/n any happier. “That doesn’t mean that you have to do them alone,. I mean what if something happened to you? Who was going to know or help?” He continued to rant out to Peter, pouring out his own feelings and frustrations towards Peter being a stubborn person.

Once he’s ranted and calmed down he placed his hands on Peters shoulders. “Please, tell me when something like this happens again. I won’t hesitate to punch Flash again.”

Peter slowly smiles and laughs. “Can’t believe you punched Flash, I always wanted to do that but never had the guts too. I was afraid that my strength would probably kill him.”

“Yeah, well it felt great doing it he was a pain in my ass.” Peter laughs at his boyfriends words. It was satisfying to see Flash getting punched and the look of surprise when he found out that they were dating each other.

Peter looks up to Y/n. “Flash knows about us and knowing him he’s gonna tell the entire school.” He was growing nervous at the idea of everyone knowing that he’s dating Starks kid only for Y/n to pull Peter into a quick kiss and smiling at him. “Let him tell everyone at least I can kiss you whenever I want without hiding it.” Peter admired Y/n for being so calm during situations like these.

“Think we should get to our club meeting?” Said Peter.

Y/n smiles with a nod. “Yeah, come on you were missing out on the fun plans we were making.” He takes Peters hand into his own and heads down the hall feeling better now that he’s able to hold Peters hand without needing to keep their relationship a secret anymore.

#Male reader #Peter Parker x male reader #stark reader #Tony stark #superfamily fic #tom!peter parker x reader #Tom!Peter Parker x male reader #Spider-Man x male reader #Spider-Man x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel #irondad

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alotofpockets · 2 years ago

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Replaced | Part 1 | Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Stark!Reader, and Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Story warnings: heart disease/failure, loss of a parent, absent father.

Story summary: Your father, Tony Stark, has been rather absent in the recent years of your life. What will happen when you show up at the Avengers Compound after you lose your mom?

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 2.5K Part 1 | Part 2

Your parents split up when you were just two years old, therefore you didn't even remember them together. You've lived with just your mom ever since. At first you spend every summer at your dad's, but ever since he became Iron Man, that stopped. Your dad had claimed to not have enough time on his hands to keep you safe.

It's been about ten years since you've had sleepovers at your dad's in the summer. You had seen him every few months to catch up over dinner, but much more than that you hadn't seen of your dad. It sucks, because he was your dad and you want him in your life, but over the years it started to get more and more clear to you that being an entrepreneur and superhero was more important to him than being a father.

Over those years your mom had been your biggest form of support, she was always there for you and your needs. She was your mom and best friend in one, you could share everything with her. Sure, your dad made sure you and your mom had the money to live a good life, and so that your mom was able to keep her local book store running instead of having to get a better paying job. You were very grateful for that, because your mom absolutely loved that store. On your eighteenth birthday your mom asked you if you wanted to be the co-owner of the store. You had been working there as a side job ever since you started college. You were grateful for her offer, and gladly accepted it.

At college you studied business, something that clearly runs in the family. Everything you’ve learned in class, you got to put to use at the store. Once you were done with college, your mom had taught you about every aspect of the store, unbeknownst to you, making you ready to take over one day. It happened suddenly, one day everything was good, and the next day you were in an ambulance because your mother had collapsed. After hours of testing the doctor let you know that something was wrong with her heart. At first medication was enough to help your mom get through the day, but when those stopped working, she had to have surgery. She stayed at the hospital for a while to monitor everything. You spend as much time as you could by her side, while also keeping the store running. It was mentally and physically draining, but the store was your mom’s pride and joy, and you had every intention to keep it running for her. She got a bit better after the surgery, but gradually over the months she was declining in her health once again.

She ended up in the hospital once again, this time she was on 24-hour watches. When the doctors informed you that there wasn’t anything they could do for her anymore, you started talking about a DNR. Your mom had a long talk with you, stating that she left everything to you in the will. “Sweetheart, I know you have big dreams and I want you to follow them all. Please don’t let keeping the store get in the way of that. I love you, and I want you to live your life for you, okay sweetheart?” That evening you had cried in her arms as she signed the DNR form.

Your mom was in the hospital for another week when the day you had been dreading came. The day you got the call from the doctors saying that your mom wasn’t going to make it to the end of the day. You closed down the store and rushed to the hospital, wanting to spend her last moments together. The rest of the day you spent by her side, holding her hand, and telling her your favorite memories together. You had balled your eyes out as the heart monitor's beeping started slowing down, eventually dying down to a continuous beep. The doctor came in to turn off the machine, and sent his condolences your way, before leaving you to say your last goodbyes.

You didn't know where to go when you left the hospital, walking around aimlessly, until you found yourself at the Avengers Compound. You decided to ring the doorbell, since your subconscious led you here and you really needed to rehydrate. A woman's voice sounded over the intercom, "Avengers Compound, who is it?" You quickly wiped your tears as you saw a camera was pointing at your face, "Ehm, I'm Y/n Stark, I'm here to see my dad."

The voice stayed quiet for a moment, "Very funny, do you have ID to prove that?" You reached into your pocket and held your ID up to the camera. “One moment, I’ll be right with you.” A minute later the door was opened by the woman you knew from the news as Black Widow. “Hi, I’m Natasha. Sorry about that, you don’t want to know how many kids come up here claiming to be one of our kids, in hopes they can enter the building.” With a small voice you replied, “It’s okay. Is he here?” Natasha shook her head, “No, but I’ll let him know you’re here. Come on, I’ll walk you to the common room.” She led you to the couch and offered you a drink.

While Natasha walked to the kitchen to get you a glass of water, all the emotions that came with losing your mom came to the service. You put your feet up on the couch, bringing your legs to your chest. Your head leaning on your knees as tears start streaming down your face once again. Natasha walks back into the common room with the glass of water and notices your state, she takes a seat next to you on the couch. “Hey, what’s wrong? I know we just met, but no one should go through these kinds of emotions alone. May I hug you?” Without saying anything, you lean into Natasha. She was right, you had just met her, but you really needed the comfort. You felt Natasha’s arms wrap around your shoulders and hold you tight. “My mom.” You say with a shaky voice, “I just lost my mom.” You cry out. Natasha moves one of her hands to rub small circles on your back. Natasha knew what loss was and felt for the stranger in her arms. She wanted to bring you comfort, the way she wished she had gotten.

It wasn’t until later in the day, when you had calmed down, met some of the other Avengers, and settled down on the couch watching a movie with them that your dad got home. He didn’t even notice you there, so Natasha spoke up. “Tony, did you get my messages?” She said while moving her eyes between him and you. That’s when his eyes fell on you, “Oh, y/n, hi. What are you doing here?” It felt kind of awkward to be in the same room as your dad and it not being a restaurant. “Mom, she. She passed away earlier today.” You wipe away the tear that fell down your face quickly. “Oh, I’m sorry, y/n.” His phone rang before the conversation could continue, “I have to take this.” He stood up and walked away. Natasha gave you a sympathetic look, “Come on, I’ll get a room ready for you, and you can stay the night.”

You didn't sleep much that night, but who could blame you. Your mom just died, and your dad seemed to not give a shit about it or you. Reluctantly you got out of bed and put on the clothes Natasha laid out for you. Making your way to the kitchen, you were hoping that your dad would be there for you. Once you got to the kitchen though, your dad was getting ready to leave. "Ah good morning, y/n. I've got to pick up the kid, I'll be back later." And once again he was out the door.

Sitting down at the counter you stare blankly ahead of yourself. Wanda and Natasha find you in the kitchen after their morning work out. Wanda is the first to sense that something is wrong and approaches you. "Hey, y/n, how are you holding up?" Wanda had experienced her own loss with her parents and brother, all those feelings came back to the moment she heard that you had lost your mom. "Who's 'the kid' my dad is referring to?" Wanda takes no time in answering your question, only making you believe that your dad calls this person ‘kid’ all the time. "Peter Parker, or as you probably know him, Spider-Man." You divert your eyes once more. Moments later Natasha places a plate of food in front of you, "I'm no chef, but I hope it's good."

You all ate in silence, you were grateful for their comfort. "Hey, is there any way either one of you can bring me to the hospital? I need to figure out some things and sign some papers. I was going to ask my dad, but he's too busy." They both agreed to come with you, and even went into the hospital with you. You reached for Natasha's hand as the doctor spoke to you about the next steps.

After filling out all the necessary forms the doctor sent you on your way, since it had been a couple hours and it was around lunchtime now you asked the women, "Do you want to grab a quick bite? As a thank you for both of your support today." Wanda checks the time before saying, “I’m sorry, I’d love to, but I have to head back. I’ve got a few meetings this afternoon.” You look over to Natasha. "Yeah, let's do it. Only because I'm hungry though, not because you need to do this to thank us, I was happy to go with you." You both hugged Wanda goodby and headed to a nearby restaurant.

During lunch you spend the time getting to know each other better. She told you about her hobbies and what it was like to be an Avenger and you told her about your hobbies and the bookstore. "I have the rest of the day off, if you want to go by the store and make sure everything is settled there, since you left in a hurry yesterday." Natasha offered. "Are you sure? I'd really like that, but only if it's not too much trouble." Of course, it was no trouble at all, Natasha was enjoying getting to know you better.

At the store you spend some time on putting the money in the safe, which in your haste you didn’t even do, and some paperwork. Natasha was walking around the shop while you were finishing up. “It’s a wonderful place, y/n. You and your mom did an incredible job, I’m sure she is so proud of you for wanting to keep the store running.” You thanked her for her kindness before printing out a sign saying you would be closed for the next week.

Walking out of the store you got the sinking feeling that you were going to go home to an empty house. “Do you think I can stay at the Compound for another night?” You ask Natasha shyly. “Yeah, of course, do you want to grab some clothes before heading back?” At your front door you freeze with the keys in your hand, unable to unlock the door. “May I?” Natasha asks softly. You hand her the key and she opens the door for you. She takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, letting you know she’s there with you. After grabbing some clothes you make your way back to the Compound.

When you arrived back at the compound, you heard laughter coming from the common room. You recognized one of the voices to be the one of your dad, so you walked in. “Oh hey, kid, meet my daughter y/n.” Tony introduces you. “Y/n, this is Peter.” It was painful this morning hearing that your dad called another person ‘kid’, a nickname he used to call you, but the sight of this broke you even more. You turned on your heels and walked in the opposite direction. To your surprise your dad called after you, “Y/n, don’t leave.” That snaps something in you. “Don’t leave?” You ask, raising your voice slightly. “Isn’t that exactly like you did? You left me because you didn’t have time to keep me safe, and now I see you’ve just replaced me with another kid that you took under your wing. Why can you take care of him, but not of me?” Tony stood up. “Peter is different, he has powers, he can protect himself.”

“That’s bullshit, Natasha doesn’t have powers and she’s an Avenger, she can protect herself. And what about Clint, Yelena and Kate? Not to mention you yourself. They can all protect themselves. All you had to do was teach me how to protect myself, but instead you left.” You didn’t wait for a response and continued walking toward the room Natasha had let you stay in. “What was that all about?” Tony asks Natasha. “Man, I knew you could be oblivious, but seriously? She just lost her mom, the only person she has had to depend on. Wanda and I went to the hospital with her today to make arrangements, because you were too busy talking with Peter.” She turned to Peter, “No offense, Spider-Boy.” And with that Natasha followed you to the room.

“I’m so sorry about him.” She said as she walked into your room. You shrugged, “It’s fine, I don’t know why I expected more.” Natasha said down on the bed next to you. “Want to watch a movie, to get your mind off of everything?” You lifted the blanket for her to join you. About fifteen minutes into the movie, you lean into Natasha, Without a word, she wraps her arm around your shoulder. Not long after your eyes closed and you slept for the first time in weeks.

Your dad might not be there for you the way you wanted him to be, but you were glad you came here and got to meet Natasha. From the first time on that couch in the common room, you had felt a connection with her, a connection that had only grown stronger over the hours that you had known her. A connection that you knew was only going to continue growing.

Part 2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow fic #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #the avengers #tony stark #tony stark x daughter!reader #stark reader #natasha romanoff x stark!reader

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captinamericashusband · 8 months ago

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Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

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Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully.

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room.

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.”

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.”

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.”

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable.

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

------------------------------------

The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum.

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s.

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

------------------------------------

It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad.

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.”

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question.

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate.

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height.

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor.

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead.

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did.

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence." Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much."

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer."

------------------------------------

Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour.

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements.

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol. What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted.

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

------------------------------------

At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear.

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated.

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred.

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'."

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-."

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer."

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

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After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out."

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection.

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?"

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

------------------------------------

Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight.

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger.

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve.

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

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thesongoficeandfir3 · 10 months ago

Text

The wolf, the raven, and the hunt ( the wolf, the raven and, the arrow part 2)

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x fem!Stark reader

A/n: The long awaited part twooooo!!! I’m not gonna lie, I wasn’t planning on making a part two but since so much of you asked I just had to!

I hope atleast some of you like this because I know I don’t , I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes :/ 💔

Warnings: female reader, female pronouns are used, Canon typical sexism but not really, sexual themes alluded but not described, canon typical violence, sa is talked about but happens to no one, No deers were hurt in the making of this story, lmk if I missed anything

It was the earlier hours of the morning when the courtyard of Riverrun was hustling and bustling with activity. The hunting dogs are barking, the horses neighing, and the servants, stable boys, maids etc.. are all moving about urgently getting everything ready for the hunt that is about to leave.

You and your brother were supposed to leave the Riverlands a week ago, but a certain Stark had taken up interest in a certain Blackwood. That being Cregan and Alyssane of course…..

As you walk among the chaos of everyone preparing, you spot Benjicot sitting on a bench in the corner breaking his fast. After the archery incident you two had spoken here and there not as much as you hoped. The reason being him having to go back to Raventree for a few days for some urgent Lord of Raventree Hall business, but you’ll never admit that you were disappointed when he left.

As you approach him he shoveling food into his mouth not even noticing your presence until you sit right across from him.

“Seven hells Blackwood, you sure can put it away.” you

laughed resting your head on your chin as you looked at him.

“Wot can I say, I’m veruh hungrry.” He laughed back food still stuffed in his cheeks.

“Yes and very messy.” you say as you take the cloth near him wiping the food from the side of his mouth.

He raises an eyebrow and grins as you wipe the corner of his mouth and doesn’t bother to pull away. “Oh? You going to clean me up, My Lady? That’s quite the wifely task, no?” he taunts you.

“Please I do this for my nephew Rickon, who is only a year I might add.” you reply neatly folding the napkin and putting it to the side.

Instead of feeling offended that you were in fact just treating him like a child his grin just widened. “Aww well aren’t I in luck you’re the wifely and motherly type” he says reaching out to grab another chicken leg.

You roll your eyes to the sky at how fast his comebacks are. He snorts at your lack of comeback and continues to go the town on his chicken leg as if this was his first time eating in days which you knew not to be true giving his status.

“I wonder if you’re this hungry when it comes to other things.” You ask rhetorically taking a strawberry from his plate and slowly biting into it, trying to tease him back even if it meant you had to tread in dirty waters.

“I can assure you, Lady Stark, my insatiable appetite is... very much not limited to just food.” he smirks looking at you, his eyes slowly trailing down your figure not covered by the table. He then leans closer taking your hand with the strawberry eating the rest of it. You could feel his soft lips brush against your fingertips, he then darts his tongue out licking the rest of the strawberry’s juices from your fingers.

“It was a jest!” you practically yell as you felt your body heat up. You shoved his head away not expecting him to reply so fast and more so not expecting him to do that.

He laughs and sits back down in his chair, finishing his last chicken leg “Oh was it? My mistake, I thought it was a request…”

“So the hunt!” you quickly try to change the subject. “is there anything you riverlord do differently than us in the North?”

He shakes his head throwing the rest of his food to the ground near him and stray dogs quickly began to snack on it.

Not necessarily except we just have different types of game, but speaking of the hunt you’ll be riding with my party“ he says it more like a command that a request.

“Seven hells and why would I want to do that” your face twisted in disgust.

“Come now, it’s either spending several hours alone in the woods, with your love sick brother and my love sick aunt or you could spend the whole day with me and my much more entertaining friends.” he says before downing his cup of ale in one go.

You groan at the thought, already not liking when you sit near them during dinner in the great hall. You can’t imagine how’d they’d be in a more private area.

“Are they as dumb as you…..if that is even possible?”

“Lady y/n! I’m hurt that you even have to ask that,” he feigns shock. “of course they’re dumb, but we're also far more charming than the other options available to you.”

You giggle at his dramatics. “Very well then least I’d be entertained.”

He smiles as he hears your laugh, a warm feeling in his gut growing at the sound. “Oh, you won’t be disappointed, I have plenty of ways to entertain you I promise.”

You walked up to the carriage Benjicot told you to be and found him near it along with two other lads you knew to be lord Kermit and Oscar Tully. You only ever spoken to then once or twice but it was in a much more formal setting and it was with both your families so you did not know the two young lords well.

If your brother were to find out you ditched going with him and Aly, to go with three young men out in the woods alone he’d for sure strangle you but what he doesn’t know won’t kill him.

Realistically however, from an outside view this did seem like an extremely dangerous and wild thing to do. A highborn lady, who was still a maiden confined in a carriage with three other young men then going to an even more isolated place, the woods....Yet you did not for a moment feel like this was unsafe.

You may have called Benjicot psychotic many times but in reality you never truly meant that. Yes, he could be a bit crazy, but not in a way were it made you feel unsafe to be around him and you’ve been around men who made you feel unsafe. A prime example being lord Bolton and his sons who you’re sure crawled out of the seven hells themselves.

The Boltons always give you such an uncomfortable feeling and made you cling to your dagger tighter when they were near … but not Benjicot … he didn’t make you feel like you needed to be alert around him, you trusted him so by extension it goes onto Kermit and Oscar.

“Ah, she’s here, the Lady Stark herself.” Oscar, who you believed was the youngest , says as he approached you excitedly.

“My lords” you bow, though it was a more informal setting you still didn’t forget your manners.

They both bow respectfully before Kermit steps forward, clearly the more well mannered of the two lads “It’s an honor to finally meet you, Lady Stark. Benjicot has told us so much about you.”

“Has he now?” a small smile appearing on your face finding it cute Benjicot still talks about you when you’re not there.

Kermit and Oscar exchange a glance with each other before a wide grin appears on their face.

“Oh yes, he just wouldn’t shut up about you, going on and on about “Y/n Stark this” and “Y/n Stark that”. Kermit starts.

“He wouldn’t stop gushing about you” Oscar rolls his eyes pretending to be annoyed.

You laughed wondering what else they would spill. “Did he also tell you how I elbowed him last time he got too close?”

“He told us all about it the very same day it happened. He said he’d never been more attracted to a woman in his entire life.” Kermit says as he snickers.

Oscar grins and nods, then suddenly burst out laughing when another thought came to his head trying his best to get it out through the laughter.

“And… and he said he nearly threw himself on his knees and thanked the Sevens above that you’d touched him, no- no matter how violently it was.” the younger and clearly more immature Tully brother doubled down laughing.

Your eyes widen in amusement and Benjicot who was sitting on the stairs of the carriage the entire time, just giving you three a chance to familiarize yourself with each other immediately shoots up at what Oscar says. He stomps over and shoves the Tully lords away from you which caused them to laugh harder.

“Haha, ignore them they’re just being arseholes, come let me help you into the carriage” Benjicot throws them another glare putting you in front of him, using himself as a barrier so the Tully brothers don’t say anything worse.

You don’t speak on what they said for now… taking a mental note to bring it up later if you two have another one of your unofficial teasing battles. Benjicot takes one of your hands, leading you up the stairs to the carriage and the other on the small of your back. Once you make it to the top his hands stay there longer than they need to be, but then he quickly pulls away when he realizes what he was doing.

The carriage ride went relatively smooth enough. Kermit and Oscar both calmed down with embarrassing their friend and you all just spoke about different things, nothing in particular.

By the time you four reached the hunting grounds it was mostly set up and hunting parties were already making their way out.

“So how do you guys do this?” You ask stretching your muscles from the long cramped carriage ride.

“Oh we uhh we usually split up that way we can cover more ground.” Kermit lies and say but you didn’t know it.

“Huh? No we d-“ Oscar is about to say but quickly change his mind realizing what his brother is trying to do “oh yes! We certainly do.”

“Yes it’s the fastest and most efficient method. Plus it makes it more fun and exciting since we get to see who’s able to catch the most game.” Benjicot replies immediately catches on, silently thanking the brothers for their support.

“Oh well in that case,” you pretend to think looking between the three riverlords “I want to team up with Kermit.”

Benjicot opens his mouth about to argue but then when you laugh he relaxes.

“I only jest.” you say with a laugh and Kermit and Oscar laugh with you already liking you being apart of their little group.

The two of you are walking through the woods, the sound of other parties echo in the not too far distance from different directions. You can hear other hunters laughing and shouting, and dogs barking as they find a chase to follow.

“There’s far too many people here, all the animals have already ran off from the noise, but don’t worry, I know a place where we can go to hunt come on.” Benjicot says motioning for you to follow.

You two walk deeper and deeper into the woods doing a few twist and turns and soon come up to a tall old stone wall that stretched too far to just walk around it. Benjicot easily went over it, you have no doubt he’s done this many times. You handed him the hunting gear before you began to climb over. You sat down on top of the wall about to jump off, when before you could,he grabbed onto your hips lifting you down without a second thought.

You unconsciously hold onto his shoulders as he lifted you down and thought the moment was for a second your heart races as your chest was pressed against his. Once your feet hit the ground he held onto you just for an extra second but only to make sure you were stable.

“Did it look like I needed your help?.” You say faster than you could process and inwardly curse to yourself at the fact that was what you say instead of a simple ‘thank you’.

Benjicot fortunately just laughs and rolls his eyes playfully. “You know you don’t have to act so tough, I can see right through your cold northern ice exterior.”

“Wow so original comparing me to ice.” your voice laced with sarcasm.

“I can’t help it, you’re such a feisty, stern, tough, she wolf of the North. I’m trying so valiantly to melt that frozen wall you’ve built around your heart.”

“You somehow prove to me everyday why you’re the most annoying person in Westeros and even across the Narrow sea.” you mutter pinching the bridge of your nose at his horrible attempt to be poetic.

“You say things like that and yet you keep talking to me, it’s almost like you enjoy it Lady Stark.” He looks at you deeply trying to gape a good reaction out of you.

“Shut up and keep walking or else I’ll shoot you and call that my game. “ you try your best not to sound flustered pushing him forward.

You two soon made your way to a clearing with a river, its waters flowing past the trees. The only sounds being the rippling water, songs of the birds and the occasional sound of the whistling wind as it passed through the tall trees. You follow him as he stoops down behind some bushes near the river.

After a couple of minutes some birds and rabbits go over to the river for a drink, but Benjicot doesn’t draw his bow just yet. More time pass and a deer trots over going for a drink oblivious to you two hiding. It wasn’t such a huge deer were it would beat records but it wasn’t so small where it would not be a good catch.

His eyes gleam at the sight and he picks up his bow handing it to you. You look at him as if he was mad and push it back against him but he then just pushes it back to you.

“You know I am not near the level where I can actually catch game.“ you hated to admit it, but it was the truth.

“That’s why I’m here, I’ll be guiding you the whole time. I’ll make sure you don’t miss, now take the bow.” he gives you a reassuring smile pressing the wooden material to your hand.

You take the bow and ready it as if you were going to hit a normal target in the training yard. Benjicot moves closer to you, his shoulders pressed against yours as he looks at the deer and back to your bow to see if it was in line of fire. The position was no where near as close or…. Intimate as the first time he’s helped you with your archery skills. Feeling his warmth pressed up against you like this however, reminded you of it.

Eyes still on the buck ahead he reaches out and gently lifts your hand more to where he thinks is the better position, his large and callous hand a stark contrast to your smaller and soft ones. Your mind wonders back to that day in the training yard, your body reliving every detail. From his smell, the feeling of his hot breath on the shell of your ear, how he made you feel warm in the cold and how his words left a coil in your stomach.

Still thinking of the day you nearly miss when he gives you the command to shoot, only now remembering the deer in front of you. You let go of the bow without realizing it. The bow soars through the air and gets closer and closer to its prize but then hits the water mere inches from a head shot.

Benjicot lets out a frustrated groan and wasting no time the deer runs back into the forest startled. You slump your shoulders in great disappointment.

“ I’m sorry.” You mumble.

Benjicot looks over to you and see how disappointed you are. “Why are you apologizing that was your first hunt ever. You can’t really expect to hit it on the first shot do you?” He says in a casual tone standing up and dusting his pants off.

It had not even been a full year since you picked up archery yet you still couldn’t help but constantly get frustrated with yourself when you miss.

“I suppose but we’ve been here for so long and have nothing to show for it…. You were better off going with Kermit or Oscar.”

“Please, don’t be ridiculous. Kermit and Oscar aren’t going to find anything either. They’ve probably been walking around in circles and shouting at each other the whole time. If by the Seven they do catch something the poor beast was probably on its deathbed and wanted a quick death.” He shakes his head able to imagine the whole thing while throwing the quiver over his shoulder.

You laugh feeling a bit better, you haven’t known them for a long time yet you could definitely see that going down.

“Besides more importantly I picked you to go with me not Kermit or Oscar… you. Now come on let’s go see if we can find those idiots.” he starts walking ahead.

You two walk back through the path you came from and once you left the thick dense and woods you felt a drop of water on your head. You stick out your hand and a few more drops fall onto it causing you to frown.

You knew it was going to rain, when earlier you saw the dark pregnant clouds rolling in from the north, but you thought you’d make it back to camp my then.

Before you could comment on it a very familiar red and black cloak is thrown over your head momentarily blinding your vision. You lift it from your face and quirk an eyebrow looking at Benjicot.

He meets your glance and smiles slightly, amused by your bewildered expression. “What?, what kind of man would I be if I let you walk through the rain and get all wet and soaked?”

“Oh well Umm thanks.” you gulp as the rain starts to fall harder.

He adjusts the cloak, pulling it around you more to make sure it’s covering you properly. With you wrapped up in his cloak a surge of possessiveness runs through him. He’ll be damned if the sight of you wearing his clothes doesn’t send a warm tingling shiver all over his body. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the impure thoughts flooding his mind, and he tries to sound nonchalant as he responds “Don’t mention it… let’s keep going.”

As you continue on back to camp you glance over to him and see how at this point he is completely soaked. Compared to you who, save for a small part of your legs that your boots and his cloak doesn't cover, is dry.

You glanced back at him your eyes looking at the way how his dark wet hair sticks to his forehead and how his wet clothes cling onto him. He doesn’t notice how you scan over his body or how your gaze lingers a little too long on how his clothes cling to his frame fortunately for you.

By the time you reach camp the rain stopped. You walk him up to his tent where he’ll get changed into something dry before joining you for dinner. He already started to unbutton his doublet not wanting to bring the soaked material into his dry tent.

“I feel bad.” You say as water still rolls off of him, you felt so guilty he sacrificed his comfort for yours.

He glances down at you with a small smirk, trying to make light of the situation and ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his now wet clothes sticking to his body. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just rain, I’ll be fine.“ he says as he throws the doublet to the side.

“Oh right you’ll probably want this back.” You go to take off his cloak but he quickly stops you.

“No, keep it It’s alright. I’m going to change out of these wet clothes so I won’t need it,” he gently puts his hands on your arms to keep you from taking it off. “besides I think you should get use to wearing my house colors. ” Benjicot teases.

You scoff at his words but your heart flutters at the same time.

“You can’t go an entire hour without being a smart-arse can you Blackwood?”

“Only for you my lady, only for you.” he says as he walks into his tent.

You walked away from his tent going to find a place to sit and wait for him. You subconsciously pull his cloak closer to you inhaling the scent… it smelt of the forest mixed in with metal. Your mind starts to wonder throughout the day and think back on how kind and gentle Benjicot was.

You’re so engrossed by the cloak, you don’t realize you were about to walk into the group of drunken Bracken men, but at the same time they don’t notice you.

They seemed to be getting rowdy and rough with each other as men their age do. They were all boasting about how tomorrow they’ll catch an even bigger game and argued who was the better hunter.

The lord of Stone Hedge Aeron Bracken had the most say.

“Hey this sword is good enough for killing Blackwoods it’s well enough for killing a beast besides what’s the difference.” they all roar in laughter.

One of his brother’s then mocks him telling him how he’s never killed either teasingly pushing him. Aeron not suspecting the push stumbled back and at the same time you just so happen to be walking behind him which caused him to stumble right into you, you both crash to the ground.

You slightly groaned in pain at the weight of the man on top of you, Aeron quickly stood back up and looks down at you shocked and guilty for what he just did. He was about to apologize and offer a hand for what he just did when in a blink of an eye. Benjicot, who just turned the corner and only sees you on the ground with a Bracken looming over you acts before he knows the full extent of the situation. He roughly slams Aeron up against the tree and pins him there firmly, looking at him with a glare that could kill.

“What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing Bracken ? Picking on women now, is that it? Huh?” his voice low and threatening as he slams the male against the tree again, knocking some wind out of him.

You are shocked by the suddenness of everything and look around to see if anyone would intervene ,but no one seems to care as if this was a normal occurrence and the rest of the Bracken men look worried but don’t dare get up. You had heard of the Blackwood-Bracken conflict before, but you never knew how bad and often it was.

It’s taking everything in him not to run his sword through the Bracken’s neck,the only thing stopping him from doing so is the thought of you seeing him commit violence. He’s not sure if he’s ready to show you why they call him “Bloody Ben.”

You stand up rushing over to him. “Benjicot wait no- it was an accident I swear it’s fine!”

His angry glare softens ever so slightly when he looks at you, yet he still doesn’t release Aeron.

“He’s a Bracken bastard they thrive off of putting others down.” Benjicot already hated the Brackens as is, but the fact of all people they mess with you makes him angry beyond measure.

“Yea well not this time, I swear I’m fine, please let him go.” You truly did not want someone to get hurt for what was an accident. You wrap your hands around Benjicot’s arm trying to pull him away.

The urge not to at least punch the Bracken bastard in the face is hard for him to subside, but not wanting to disappoint you is even stronger.

He shoves him away from behind the tree. Aeron nearly falls at how hard Benjicot shoved him but catches himself walking back to his group where they immediately walk away in case Benjicot changes his mind.

“Cowards.” he huffs out a sharp breath and watches the men walk away, his eyes still filled with anger as he glares at the group.

“I’ll do it.” You say bluntly

He looks back at you and frowns a confused expression on his features.

“huh? You’ll do what?”

“ I’ll marry you.” You say without any hesitation.

He just stares at you for a moment, his heart stopping in his chest and his breath catching in his lungs. For a moment he just stares at you, completely lost for words as his brain struggles to wrap around the words that just left your lips.

“You…. Wait… I-I….” he stuttered not being able to complete a sentence his cheeks turning pink. “look I get we have this thing going on where we tease each other, but bloody hells Stark your killing me.” he says as he pretend to wipe his face to hide the blush.

“No Ben,” you pause saying his nickname for the first time and liking the way it feels on your tongue “I’m serious.”

The gears in his head starts to turn slowly and he stares at you for a long while just waiting for you to blurt out it was jest,but when you don’t he drops to one knee grasping both of your hands in his.

“I swear to the old and new gods to be a good spouse to you. I promise to always protect you, and care for you. I promise to worship and be devoted to you with my body, mind and soul….. so will you Y/n of house Stark be the lady of Raventree Hall….. will you accept these vows and become Lady Blackwood?” for the first time since you’ve met him he seems nervous.

“Yes I want to be Lady Blackwood.” you smile down at him.

His heart swells and a rush of excitement and nerves, but mostly excitement, flood through him. An enormous smile spreads across his face. He gets up and is about to pull you in for a hug when you stop him.

“But….” you raise a hand to stop him.

“But?” He asks nervously expecting the worse.

“I have a few conditions.”

“Like?”

“I want a traditional Stark wedding.”

He relaxes slightly, a small amused smile on his face as you declare one of your few conditions. He can’t help but chuckle slightly as he nods.

“Simple enough.”

“It has to be in the godswood not the sept.” you say your second condition

“Sure.”

“I want to be able to visit Winterfell a few times a year”

“Of course I know how important family is to you Starks“

“I want some of my ladies-in-waiting to be from the North.”

“ Very well, is that all or are there more demands? he says jokingly

“And“

“Andddd “ he says in a sing song voice.

“I want Visenya to live with us”

He quirks an eyebrow. “and that is?”

“My direwolf of course.” you say as it’s the most obvious thing.

He smiles extremely amused, but not entirely surprised you own a direwolf. “Well obviously,” he matched your tone “can’t have my special girl living without hers”

You open your mouth to speak again then realize that, that was all your requests you were fully expecting to have a bit of an argument not expecting him to agree so easily.

He noticed and smirks grabbing your hips and pulling you into him. “Why so surprised, I did say I’d give you everything and more the first time we met didn’t I?” he smiles his thumb tracing circles in your waist

Cregan then just so happens to be walking towards your direction and when he spots you two his face goes from disgust, to anger to confusion, then anger again which causes you to laugh.

“Before you go doing anything unwise Blackwood, I suggest you ask for my brother’s blessing first.” you laugh nodding your head towards the direction of your brother who stood behind Benjicot boring holes at the back of his head.

Benjicot body froze and you swear he got pale, he didn’t dare turn around to meet eyes with the wolf of the North and instead he slowly takes his hands off of you pulling them back to his sides.

“Danm, it was already hard enough to convince one of you” he mumbled.

#benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #davos blackwood #davos blackwood x reader #stark reader #bloody ben x reader #benjicot blackwood x y/n #benjicot blackwood #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic

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fandomnerd9602 · 9 months ago

Text

Kraven confronts Y/N Stark and Petra Parker…

Kraven: so you’re the Spider Woman? A child?!

Y/N: her and I will be eighteen in a couple months

Petra: yeah so we’re not as helpless as…ohmygosh! Pietro? Pietro Maximoff?!

Kraven: who?

Petra: baby! he looks like Pietro!

Y/N: I don’t see…Piet! Oh my gosh! Wanda’s gonna be so happy to see you!!!

Petra webs up Kraven and the two begin dragging him off…

Kraven: get your hands off of me! I am a feared hunter!!

Petra: family reunion time!!!

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claymoresword · 9 months ago

Text

We Bleed The Same | Part: 2

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, angst, pregnant cersei, kid fic elements, y/n & cersei's relationship is so not healthy but we move

Note: So we end here. although i do think there's room to expand this story into a full fic but idk if anyone would want that (let me know if you do and i'll consider it) but eitherway hope you enjoy!

ps. this one kicks off with a bit of smut so i'm sorry in advance or you're welcome lol

Loud, unrestrained moans fall from the queen's lips as you cup her breasts. She throws her head back once more, grinding hard against your lap, your length filling her to the hilt.

Cersei's hair flows past her shoulders in tumbles of gold, her chest heaving with every trembling gasp and breath.

Gods, she is beautiful.

Cersei takes her pleasure from you without reserve this morning, as she often does.

Since arriving in King's Landing this seems to be all she has done, anytime the both of you are allowed a moment together undisturbed.

A simple conversation somehow always escalates, and you find yourself in the queen's bed– your hot, writhing bodies entwined.

Cersei halts her movements suddenly, bracing her hands against your breasts as she finally comes undone around your shaft. The sensation of her clenching around your cock makes you groan, your eyes flutter shut for a prolonged moment and you nearly fail to realize Cersei climbing off your lap.

You shake your head at her as she collapses next to you, breathless and full of incredulity, although thoroughly satisfied. You'd let Cersei ride you all day and night if that is what she truly desired.

“I swear, it will fall off one of these days.” You quip in between heavy breaths, glancing at your own member.

You earn a chuckle from Cersei, one low and sultry, her chest is still heaving wildly as she turns on her side to look at you.

“Oh, no we can't have that..” She says in return, her tone aimed to mock, she feigns disinterest as she traced your abdomen with her fingers.

You merely scoff in response, deciding to reach over the queen to grab the goblet sitting on her side table.

You lift the rim up to your lips, taking a sip before eventually throwing your head with the intention of emptying the cup.

Although before you can, you feel Cersei strike you on the chest with the back of her hand, causing you to nearly choke.

“Don't you dare drink it all.” She warns, and you swallow what little wine made it into your mouth before surrendering the goblet.

Your expression twists in annoyance, yet the queen appears entirely unfazed by it.

“You do not need to hit me every time you want something.. Asking politely is what most civilized people do.” You take the jab at her but still, the older woman hardly reacts.

Cersei instead shrugs innocently as she puts the now empty goblet aside, a faint smile tugging on the corners of her lips. “I am the queen. I don't have to ask for anything.”

Your retort dies in your throat as Cersei suddenly inched closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your around her instinctively, holding her close.

This woman drove you insane.

The queen is entirely uninhibited and treacherous, like wildfire; Cersei does as she pleases. Nothing in the mortal world could dream of containing her.

She is maddening, she is cruel, and so damned intoxicating.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Soon a comfortable silence settles between the both of you, it goes on for long enough that you feel yourself nodding off, but the sound of Cersei's voice prevents you from falling asleep.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.” She declares quietly, her lips brush against your jaw before she breaks away to look at you properly.

“What is it?” You ask with genuine concern as you meet her gaze. You attempt to search her expression for any cause to worry, but Cersei betrays nothing of the sort.

“I am with child.” She says suddenly, and as her voice reaches your ears you can hardly believe what you are hearing; you pause.

“I am carrying your babe in my belly.” Cersei rephrases, as though you hadn't understood her the first time.

Still, you don't speak, merely letting out a chuckle in disbelief as you glanced at her belly, before placing your palm flat against it.

This only works to frustrate the queen even more. “Say something, you imbecile.” She hisses.

“Are you.. happy about this?” You find yourself inquiring, and Cersei only scowls at you as though it was the dumbest question she had ever been asked.

“Yes, of course I am.” She insists, grabbing your face with both of her hands, forcing you to look at her.

“You are going to be a mother, alongside me, at long last.” As Cersei speaks the words, they finally begin to sink in.

Yet, all you feel is an impending dread.

You are not prepared to be a parent. In truth, you haven't even given the idea much thought at all.

“The Gods have blessed us.” You say instead, and Cersei nods, her pleasant smile proves that she is content with your response.

You let her pull you into her embrace once more, and you hug her tightly in return– keeping your thoughts to yourself.

“A child born from you and I.. they are fated to do great things.” Cersei utters assuredly under her breath, only for you to hear.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You had spent all that afternoon in the Red Keep's training yard, sparring with anyone who would agree to it.

Knight or squire, it mattered not, you simply needed a distraction from the unpleasantness that was constantly gnawing in your chest.

You are not ready to be a parent, you aren't certain you would be even decent, let alone good at it. but still, Cersei's happiness is what matters most of all.

You have to see this through no matter what.

“Begging your pardon, My Lady–” A voice rips you from your thoughts, you turn around to see a young squire standing behind you.

You watch him quizzically, and the boy stumbles over his words as though only just realizing that he has to explain himself. “The– the Lord Hand has sent for you. He has asked for an audience in the king's solar.”

You scoff bitterly at that. Ned's new duties as hand of the king had resulted in him evading you at every turn.

Always too busy to spend time with you and his own children– but now he summons his sister through a squire and expects you to obey his command without protest.

He is unbelievable.

“Tell my brother that I'm busy here, I'll see him when I can” You insist sharply, scowling just at the thought of entertaining Ned's command right now.

You observed as the squire's face grew pale at your refusal, he advances forward nervously.

“Forgive me, My Lady, he did mention it was urgent.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You wince as you massage the knot in your shoulder whilst climbing up the steps towards the king's apartments.

Frankly not giving much thought to what your brother needed from you, or having much care for what he has to say at all.

A hand still on your sword arm, you push the heavy wooden door to Robert's solar open with your back.

The sight that you are met with when you enter makes your face fall.

Robert sits at his desk, Cersei stands next to him whilst Ned remains on the other side of the king.

Your expression twists further in confusion when you spot Catelyn stood by the window, a small child in her arms.

This does not make any sense– she is supposed to be in Winterfell.

“Has something happened?” You ask, entirely afraid of the answer. You turn to push the door closed, in an attempt to delay whatever this is, for as long as possible.

“Y/n–” Your sister by law is first to address you. Catelyn decides to set the child she is holding down before continuing, but before she can get a word out, the little girl sprints towards you, clinging to your leg.

The feeling of her tiny arms wrapped around you makes you stiffen involuntarily. You have never seen this child before, and yet there is something so familiar about her, some sort of inkling that you can't quite place.

“Who is this?” You ask, running your fingers through the girl's hair as she looked up at you giddily.

“A woman came to me, back in Winterfell–” Catelyn begins to explain, advancing towards you, but again, she is not allowed to speak for long.

“That is your bastard daughter, apparently.” Cersei answers your question bluntly, her tone laced with venom.

The look she sends your way causes your blood to run cold, you swallow, shifting uncomfortably. Your instinctive attempt to get the child to release you is to no avail.

The Gods make their japes, at the face of distress, they see fit to mock you.

You let out an uncomfortable laugh, one that causes Cersei to roll her eyes.

“I don't understand.” You utter, in hopes that dismissing it will somehow make it all ring untrue.

“Cat told me the woman that approached her used to work at the brothel.. when she became heavy with your child she had to find work elsewhere– she does not have the means to raise this little girl.” Ned explains, and the situation only begins to sound even more bizarre to you.

“That's.. not possible, I haven't been to any brothel in–” You start but the king swiftly cuts you off.

“Three years?” Robert chimes in, followed by a belly laugh that only makes you want to punch the man.

“Guess how old that girl is.” He inquires, and you grow quiet.

Cersei appears dissatisfied with your silence, she steps towards you in a last ditch attempt to help you and everyone else in the room see reason.

“How could you possibly believe that she is your daughter?” The queen questions openly, glancing at everyone else in the room before settling her gaze upon you.

“The whore is clearly just looking for you to feast her bastard in the king's hall.” Cersei accuses. Her words are harsh but you catch something else within her gaze, a look of desperation and true sorrow– it shatters you.

Ned shakes his head at Cersei's claim, it appears he has made up his mind on your behalf. “My sister's bastard or not, in the north we look out for our own. Whether this child is truly yours is unclear, but we cannot throw her out in the streets.”

You take in your brother's words, although you still fail to speak, it feels as though your voice does not matter in this instance, when things have already been decided.

Robert grumbles as he rises from his seat, evidently through with this discussion.

“Raise her here or don't, y/n. It matters not to me. She is your responsibility now.” The king says as he pushes past you to exit the room.

You watched as Cersei's expression hardened the longer she looked at you before finally averting her gaze in disgust.

“Your Grace,” You try but Cersei merely pushes past you harshly taking her leave as well.

Now you are at a loss. The child still sits by your feet, free of any predicament, entertaining herself by fiddling with the metal tip of your scabbard.

You look between your brother and his wife, and they only stare at you expectantly. You feel there is nothing left to do as you let out a sigh in defeat.

You crouch down to meet your daughter.

As you reach out to lightly pinch the girl's nose, she lets out an adorable giggle that makes you smile, before you look up at Catelyn once more.

“What is her name?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

A few days have passed since a child had been thrust into your care unexpectedly and Cersei still refuses to speak to you.

Every one of your attempts at begging for her audience has been met with swift refusal.

It seemed the more you tried, the more it worked to provoke her.

The queen has since dismissed you as protector, and appointed another in your stead.

To add insult to injury, she has decided her brother, out of all knights, should take your place.

Cersei knows how to wound you and she does it well. How foolish of you to forget that.

This afternoon you approach the queen consort's bedchambers once again, only to see Jaime standing in front of her door.

You curse under your breath. You had hoped to force your way inside one way or another, but now that task is going to prove far more difficult.

“Let me see her.” Your request sounds more like a demand as you settle in front of the knight.

Jaime regards you with nothing more than a blank stare, looking you up and down before responding. “The queen is not to be disturbed, she is abed.”

You grimace at that before gesturing to your surroundings. “It is not yet nightfall.” You state a plain fact, and Jaime merely shrugs.

“The queen is not to be disturbed.” This time the knight does not bother to look at you as he speaks.

This alone fills you with a blind rage, you grip the hilt of your sword tightly, fighting every urge that tells you to unsheathe it.

Instead of challenging Cersei's twin to a swordfight, you lunge forward with the desire to strike him, but at the last moment, your fist makes contact with the wall next to his head instead.

Satisfied enough with the way Jaime flinches, you turn on your heels, storming off before the knight and do anything to retaliate.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

For most of the late evening you had resolved to spend more time with your daughter.

So far, the little girl has surprised you in more ways than one. You had quickly learnt that she is shy around the other children, albeit not unkind to them. She loves to giggle, and is mostly well behaved– for a three year old.

The first few days with her had you constantly doubting if she was even your daughter at all, but you soon came to accept that your denial is hardly fair to her, none of this is.

You will give her a chance regardless; a place to call home. She deserves a mother, especially if the one that birthed her cannot care for her anymore.

As the hour grows late, you carry your daughter to bed, tucking her under the covers before placing a kiss on her forehead.

The girl grabs ahold of your collar then as she often did to make you stay with her for a little while longer, but sleep swiftly takes over, causing her arm to fall to her side.

You chuckle at the sight, stroking her hair one last time before retreating. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

As you make the move to turn away, the sudden feeling of arms wrapping around your torso makes you flinch.

Soon recognizing the familiar scent of lavender oil, you let out a breath of relief.

You turn in Cersei's arms to look at her, an easy smile appears on your lips as you meet her striking emerald gaze.

Such joy it is to finally feel her close to you again.

Cersei.. your love, your heart.

“I didn't think you would speak to me ever again.” You remark, caressing her cheek with your finger.

Cersei doesn't respond immediately, merely raking her fingers through your hair before harshly gripping a fistful of it, causing you to wince this time for a different reason.

“Do you love me?” She inquires, yet her expression remains unreadable to you.

She aims to make you uncomfortable, and it is working.

“You know that I do. More than anything else in this world.” You respond in earnest, a pleading look accompanies your words.

She nods at that, satisfied enough that she releases her grip on your hair.

Now she reaches down to guide your hand, holding it in place against her growing belly.

“Do you swear to never choose that girl over our child?” The queen demands, swiftly looking at the bed where your daughter sleeps peacefully and then back to you once more.

What Cersei asks of you is bold, it is perhaps unreasonable, even. Yet you don't hesitate with a response.

“I swear it.”

Cersei allows herself to smile then, she finally pulls you in for a searing kiss, one you return eagerly.

She breaks away and her mouth finds your jaw, and soon the shell of your ear before embracing you once more.

“If you ever betray me, I will have you gelded and your cock fed to the dogs.” The queen whispers her threat with a sweet smile, but you know that she meant every word.

“I will not betray you.”

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei x reader #cersei lannister smut #cersei lannister #fem stark reader #stark reader #catelyn stark #ned x catelyn #g!p reader #g!p

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mintyys-blog · 2 months ago

Text

TAINTED— gangster! peter parker x stark! reader

WARNINGS: violence, corruption, intimidation, SMUT.

Y/N Stark had always been her father’s pride.

Tony made sure the world knew it. From the moment she stepped into the modeling industry, his support had been unwavering. It wasn’t just about his influence or the doors his name opened. It was about his genuine pride—about the way his eyes lit up whenever he spoke about her, about the framed photos in his office, the ones he pointed out to guests.

“She’s taking the world by storm,” he’d say with a grin, no trace of arrogance, just the pride of a father watching his daughter shine. “My little girl. A star.”

Tony wasn’t the type to keep his feelings hidden. He wore his love for her like a badge of honor, showing it off in the way he spoke about her accomplishments, the way his chest puffed out when people mentioned her name. He didn’t care if it was business or personal; Y/N was always at the forefront of his mind.

When Tony couldn’t make her shows, Pepper was always there. Front row, poised and proud, Morgan sitting wide-eyed beside her. Y/N loved those moments—when the lights dimmed, and she caught sight of her family in the crowd. Pepper always gave her an encouraging smile, Morgan clapping too early, excitement bubbling over like a shaken soda bottle.

Tony would send flowers afterward. You were the most beautiful thing in the room, the card would read.

And Y/N would melt. Because as much as she loved her career, she loved knowing her father was proud of her even more. There was a sense of comfort in that pride, a safety she never wanted to lose. The love from her father felt like a solid foundation beneath her, keeping her grounded while she soared.

Morgan often told her, “You’re lucky, you know.”

She’d laugh softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “I know.”

Her little sister adored her, idolized her. Morgan would often sit in front of the TV, pretending to model just like Y/N, walking the invisible runway in the living room. It made Y/N smile every time. Sometimes, Morgan would even grab her phone, taking pictures of Y/N like she was the star of her own photo shoot, squealing in delight over the results.

And Y/N loved it. She loved being the role model her little sister needed, someone who pushed through the hard days to achieve her dreams. She was everything Morgan wanted to be.

⸻

But that sense of security, that world where everything was as it should be, began to crack when Peter Parker entered her life.

He wasn’t like the men who hovered around her father—polished, professional, stiff. Peter was different. He was rough around the edges. Too much so, Tony would say. His dark, intense eyes followed her whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, and Y/N found herself noticing.

It was subtle at first, a lingering glance or a casual comment here and there. But Y/N felt it. Something between them sparked, just under the surface. Something Tony would never approve of.

And Tony knew it.

⸻

“Y/N, stay away from him,” Tony said one evening, his voice firm as he leaned back in his chair, the remnants of dinner still on the table.

Her stomach twisted. “Who, Peter?”

“Yeah, Peter,” Tony muttered, his fingers tapping impatiently against his glass. “He’s trouble, Y/N.”

“Why? Because he’s not exactly what you had in mind?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “No. Because he’s dangerous.”

That was it. No more. No explanation. No reason why. Just a warning, one Y/N couldn’t shake. It felt wrong. It felt like something was being hidden from her, a secret that only her father knew, something too complicated for her to understand.

But she didn’t care. She didn’t listen.

⸻

She started to see Peter more—by accident, of course. But there were no accidents when it came to him. Every time she walked past the garage or the garden, he’d be there, casually leaning against a wall, waiting for something—or someone.

Her heart would race every time, a mix of curiosity and something else. Something deeper.

He never said much at first, but his eyes—those damn eyes—they said it all. There was something in the way he looked at her, something that made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

So, she’d linger. She’d smile, and Peter would always notice.

He was hard to read, a little distant at times, but he was always there. And that made her want to get closer.

Tony never stopped warning her. And Y/N never stopped ignoring him.

It had been weeks since Tony’s warning about Peter, and yet Y/N still found herself drawn to him. It wasn’t something she could explain—there was a pull she couldn’t resist. Every time she saw him, she had the urge to get closer, to break down whatever walls he’d carefully built around himself.

Her father’s warnings echoed in her mind, but the more Tony tried to push her away from Peter, the more determined Y/N became to get closer. It wasn’t just rebellion—it was something deeper, something visceral. She wanted to see beyond the surface. She wanted to know him.

One evening, after a long day of photo shoots and interviews, Y/N walked out onto the balcony of the mansion, hoping for some peace and quiet to unwind. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floors as she stepped outside, the cool breeze brushing against her skin. She sighed, letting the night air soothe her after a long day of flashing lights and eager photographers.

But then she saw him.

Peter was standing near the edge of the property, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of the garden lights. He wasn’t supposed to be here—her father had made sure to keep him out of sight, but somehow, he was always lurking in the background. Always present, even when Y/N thought she could escape.

“Peter,” she called out, her voice carrying across the quiet space.

He looked up, surprised, his expression unreadable. “Y/N.”

A flicker of something passed between them, and Y/N felt her pulse quicken. It was that same magnetic energy—something unspoken, something undeniable.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, stepping toward him.

He shrugged, a small, almost amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Same as you. Trying to get some air.”

She stopped just a few steps away, but the space between them felt smaller than it should have been. The tension between them was thick, charged, like something was waiting to explode. Y/N could feel it in the way her heart raced, in the way her breath hitched when she looked at him.

“Your father doesn’t want us talking,” Peter said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at her lips. “My father doesn’t control me.”

Peter’s gaze softened, but there was a wariness in it—like he was torn between wanting to walk away and something else pulling him in. “He’s right, though. I’m not the kind of guy you should be around.”

“I can make my own decisions,” she replied sharply, her voice confident. “You’re not what he thinks.”

Peter looked away, a flicker of something crossing his face. “Maybe I am.”

Her heart sank at his words. He wasn’t wrong—she could see the darkness in him, the danger that clung to him like a second skin. But that only made her more curious.

“I don’t care,” she said, her voice quieter now, her eyes locked onto his. “You don’t know what my life is like, Peter. What people expect of me.”

“I know exactly what that’s like,” he said, his voice low, his eyes intense.

For a moment, Y/N swore she could see the pain behind his words, something raw and unguarded. It made her stomach twist, made her feel like she was seeing him for the first time.

Before she could say anything else, Peter took a step toward her, closing the gap between them. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle, almost tentative.

“You don’t have to be this way, Y/N,” he murmured. “You don’t have to fight everything.”

She blinked, her breath hitching in her throat at the intensity of his gaze. There was something in his eyes that made her heart beat faster, something that called to her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

“I’m not fighting,” she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m choosing.”

She didn’t even know what she meant by it. The words just spilled out. But in that moment, Peter seemed to understand.

His face was inches from hers now, his breath warm against her skin. For a second, neither of them moved. The world felt like it had paused, as if they were the only two people in it.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Peter said softly, his lips brushing against her cheek as he pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of hesitation.

Y/N didn’t respond. Instead, she closed the distance, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was slow at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as the kiss deepened, the tension in her body melted away, replaced with a heat that spread through her like wildfire.

Peter’s hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss became more urgent. She responded in kind, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her body against his. The danger of it—the thrill of it—was what made her heart race even faster.

And then, just as quickly, the moment was shattered.

“Y/N!”

The harsh voice echoed through the quiet night, and both of them broke apart immediately. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she saw her father standing in the doorway, his face a mixture of shock and fury.

Tony’s eyes burned with anger as he stared at Peter, then shifted to Y/N. “What the hell are you doing?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to collect herself, pulling away from Peter and stepping back.

“We—uh—” Peter stammered, his usual confidence gone, replaced with tension.

“Y/N, inside. Now,” Tony demanded, his voice cold.

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but one look from her father silenced her. She glanced at Peter, who was standing motionless, his expression a mix of regret and something darker.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.

Peter didn’t respond. Instead, he took a step back, disappearing into the shadows of the garden without another word.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, staring at the spot where he had been, her heart still racing.

Her father’s voice cut through the silence again. “Inside. Now, Y/N.”

Reluctantly, Y/N turned and walked back into the house, her father following close behind.

Tony’s anger was palpable as they entered the house. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

Y/N flinched at the sharpness in his voice, but she stood her ground. “I’m not a child, Dad. I can make my own decisions.”

“Not when it comes to him, you can’t,” Tony snapped. “You have no idea who he really is.”

“I know more than you think,” she shot back, the words leaving her before she could stop them.

Tony paused, his eyes narrowing, as if seeing her in a new light. But he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

“Just… stay away from him, Y/N. For your own sake,” he said quietly.

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart still pounding in her chest. But deep down, she knew she couldn’t stay away from Peter. Not now. Not ever.

Y/N couldn’t get Peter out of her mind. She tried to push the memory of his lips, of his touch, from her thoughts, but it was impossible. The kiss lingered, hot and reckless, a fire that hadn’t been put out. Every time she saw her father after that night, her heart twisted with guilt, but she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to him—his darkness, his danger, the very things Tony warned her about.

She told herself she was just being rebellious. That it was a phase. But the more she told herself that, the more she realized it wasn’t true. This wasn’t a phase. This wasn’t just some childish rebellion against her father’s rules. No, Peter Parker was something more. Something dangerous. Something she wanted.

It was late one evening when she was in her room, the quiet hum of the city below barely reaching her ears. The soft glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a serene light over the room. Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through her phone mindlessly, her thoughts drifting back to Peter. The way he had kissed her, the way his lips had tasted of something forbidden.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Morgan, telling her about some new project she had at school, but Y/N barely registered it. She was lost in the thoughts of Peter, and the overwhelming urge to see him again was consuming her.

That’s when she heard it.

A soft noise from the window. A slight scraping sound. Her heart skipped a beat, and before she could move, the window slid open, the familiar face of Peter Parker appearing in the dim light.

“Peter?” she breathed, her voice a mixture of surprise and something deeper, more yearning.

His face was bruised, his lip split and swollen, a cut near his cheek, and dark circles under his eyes. His clothes were torn, his body looking like he’d just come from a fight. He wasn’t supposed to be here—not after what happened with Tony—but there he was, standing in her room like a shadow in the night.

“Pete… what happened?” Y/N gasped, rushing toward him, her heart pounding in her chest.

He winced, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Your dad wanted to send a message. Told me to stay away from his little princess,” he muttered, a bitter edge to his voice. He stepped closer to her, and the familiar heat between them flared to life again. “Guess he thinks I’m a bad influence on you.”

Y/N reached out instinctively, her hands trembling slightly as she cupped his bruised face, her thumb brushing over the cut near his lip. She was horrified by the sight of him, but there was something else—something that made her want to get closer. He was hurt, but even in his battered state, there was a fire in his eyes, an intensity that made her pulse race.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice soft, as though the words could somehow make things better.

Peter’s lips curled into a smirk, but it was a sad, knowing smirk, like he was beyond the point of caring. He reached up, grabbing her wrist, pulling her hands away from his face. “Don’t,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t apologize for me. Your dad’s not the one who needs to be sorry.”

Before she could respond, Peter moved faster than she could process, his hands sliding around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. The sudden closeness made her breath catch, but before she could do anything, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her neck, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine.

“You don’t have to be sorry for me,” he repeated, his voice thick with desire, as he kissed her neck. “But your father…” He trailed his lips down her throat, sending a spark of heat racing through her. “He thinks I’ll taint you.”

Y/N’s breath caught, her eyes closing at the sensation of his lips moving against her skin, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Every word he said, every touch, sent a wave of conflicting emotions rushing through her—fear, excitement, and something darker.

Peter’s teeth lightly brushed against her throat, the sensation electrifying. “And he’s right,” he whispered against her skin, his voice husky. “I’ll taint you. I’ll ruin you. But you don’t care, do you?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she tilted her head back, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She should’ve stopped this. She should’ve told him to leave, to get away, to stay away from her father’s rules. But the words wouldn’t come. She was caught, trapped in this magnetic pull between them. She was already in too deep.

“Peter…” Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with the weight of her emotions. “You… you can’t do this.” But even as the words left her mouth, her hands moved against his chest, her fingers gripping him, pulling him closer. The part of her that still fought to do what was right was fading with each passing second. She wanted him. Wanted all of him. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t care about the consequences.

He paused, pulling away just enough to look her in the eyes. His gaze was burning with something primal, something dangerous, and Y/N knew, without a doubt, that she was in too deep to turn back. His hands moved down to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly, his lips crashing against hers in a kiss that was urgent, desperate. She responded without hesitation, her body reacting to his touch like a fire that couldn’t be put out.

His hands gripped her tightly, and Y/N instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her body pressed against his as he carried her toward the bed. Her heart was racing, a mixture of fear and desire swirling in her chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. There was no stopping now. She was already lost.

As Peter laid her down gently, his body covering hers, his lips never leaving hers, Y/N could feel the weight of everything they were doing, everything they were becoming. There was no going back. And somehow, in that moment, she didn’t want to.

She wanted this. All of it.

Peter pulled back slightly, his face inches from hers, and his eyes softened, filled with an emotion she couldn’t place. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low. “You don’t know how far I’ll take you down with me.”

But Y/N didn’t care. She only cared about the feeling of his lips, his hands, his body. She wanted all of him. No matter the cost.

“I don’t care,” she whispered back, the words barely escaping her lips. She tilted her head up to kiss him again, her hands sliding into his hair, pulling him closer. “Take me wherever you want.”

And with that, everything else disappeared. The rules. The warnings. The danger.

It was just Peter. And her. In the dark. And there was no going back.

As Tony Stark's daughter, you were off-limits, but that only seemed to fuel the flames of attraction. You could see the hunger in Peter's gaze, the way he wanted to devour you whole.

"You know we shouldn't be doing this," Peter growled, his voice low and husky as he pushed you against the wall. "Your dad would kill me if he found out."

You smiled, a thrill running through you at the danger. "I don't care," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I want you, Peter."

With a snarl, Peter's lips crashed down on yours, his tongue invading your mouth as he claimed you. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he lifted you up, his hands digging into your thighs as he slammed you against the wall.

"You're a bad girl, aren't you?" Peter panted, his eyes blazing with desire. "You like playing with fire, don't you?"

You nodded, your cheeks flushing with excitement. "Yes, I do," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Peter's hands tightened around your wrists, his grip like a vice. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll be screaming my name," he growled, his voice dripping with dominance. "And you're going to take it, aren't you?"

You nodded again, your body thrumming with submission. "Yes, Peter. I'll take it all."

With a roar, Peter slammed into you, his cock pounding into your pussy. You felt a wave of pain wash over you, but it was quickly replaced by a tidal wave of pleasure. You screamed, your voice echoing off the walls as Peter fucked you with abandon. You moaned his name, tightening around him.

"Dirty girl," Peter panted, his lips brushing against your ear. "You love being fucked like this, don't you? You love being my little slut."

You nodded, your body trembling with pleasure. "Yes, Peter. I love it."

Peter's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. "Say it," he growled, his voice commanding. "Say you're my slut."

"I'm your slut, Peter," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

Peter's eyes flashed with triumph, his lips curling into a snarl. "That's right," he panted, his cock pounding into you with renewed ferocity. "You're my slut, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."

You screamed, your body shattering into a thousand pieces as Peter fucked you into oblivion. You were his, completely and utterly, and you knew you'd never be the same again.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Peter's grip on your wrists relaxed, his fingers gently stroking your skin. "My little slut," he whispered, his voice full of affection. "You're mine, now and forever."

You smiled, your heart soaring with love and submission. "I'm yours, Peter," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Forever and always."

Peter's eyes locked onto yours, his gaze burning with intensity. "I'm going to own you, body and soul," he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're going to be my little plaything, my toy to use and abuse as I see fit."

You shivered, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, Peter," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want to be your toy."

Peter's lips curled into a snarl, his eyes flashing with excitement. "Good girl," he panted, his voice dripping with approval. "You're going to make me so happy."

With a roar, Peter lifted you up, his hands digging into your thighs, his cock pounding into you with renewed ferocity. You screamed, your body shattering into a thousand pieces as Peter fucked you into oblivion.

As the night wore on, Peter's dominance only grew, his grip on your wrists and ankles tightening as he fucked you with abandon. You were his, completely and utterly, and you knew you'd never be the same again.

Finally, as the first light of dawn crept into the room, Peter's body relaxed, his cock slipping out of your pussy as he collapsed onto the bed beside you. You lay there, your body trembling with exhaustion, your heart soaring with love and submission.

"My perfect girl," Peter whispered, his voice full of affection as he wrapped his arms around you. "You're mine, now and forever."

You smiled, your heart full of love and devotion. "I'm yours, Peter," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Forever and always."

As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that you'd never be the same again, that Peter Parker had claimed you as his own, and that you'd never be free from his grasp. And you knew that you'd never want to be, that you'd always be his, body and soul.

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