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Oh.. the things we would do..
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Chapter Six
Chapter Six of Man of Honor
Series Masterlist â Main Masterlist â House Of The Dragon Masterlist
Rating: 18+ Word Count: ~5k+ Summary: The morning after. Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, pining, SMUTTY GOODNESS (fingering, p in v) Authorâs Note: After everyoneâs reactions to chapter five, Iâve been extra motivated to get the next few chapters for this story cranked out. I hope you all enjoy! Comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated. đŤś
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The moment you had just shared with Cregan had been incredible, something you had only dreamed of having, and although you knew that it was wrong, a part of you did not regret it.
Hearing his words, his confession of love, had how he was willing to give up everything just for you, had left you floating. However, it was still wrong, and you feared of what the consequences would be.
What have we done?
Whatâs going to happen now?
Would he truly forsake his duty to the North and choose me?
What if it was all a lie?
Did he mean what he said?
You stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, listening to Creganâs soft snores, as you laid in his warm embrace, until sleep finally took you.
You were pulled from your slumber when Cregan pulled you closer to his body, and you felt a hardness press against your lower back. Your body, reacting to Creganâs of its own accord, had you pushing against him in return, and you bit your lip when he let out a low groan in his sleep. His arm tightened around you, hand drifting down to the apex of your thighs, and you held your breath as his fingers grazed your mound.
Is he awake?
Cregan had given you no sign that he was awake, his breathing still heavy with sleep, but you began to question it further when he once again moved. You held back a gasp when his fingers dipped between your legs and caressed your opening, collecting your wetness and then circling your clit with his fingertips.
He continued to alternate between circling your bud and teasing your hole, and your core grew wetter and hotter with each passing moment. But then he pushed a finger slowly into your heat, and you could not help but release a soft moan, your hips tilting into his touch.
Oh, Seven hells.
You gnawed on your lip, trying to control your breathing, as a second finger joined the first in its exploration. You were still a little tender, but the ever-growing amount of slick leaking out of you made it easier to take his thick fingers in. Creganâs thumb pressed against your clit as his fingers continued to slowly pump in and out of you, and you began to grind against his palm.
Gods, his fingers feel so good.
You panted as his pace quickened, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you drew closer and closer to the edge. Still wondering if he was awake or asleep, you turned your head to find his eyes still closed, but a small smile sat upon his lips.
The bastard is awake!
No longer concerned with waking him, you began to rut against his hand, whimpering when he curled his fingers and stroked your sweet spot.
âDonât be shy, love,â he breathed, lightly nipping at your earlobe. âLet me hear you.â
He withdrew his fingers and rubbed your clit as he shifted, sliding his length between your wet thighs. You gasped as Cregan's thick length slid between your slick folds, teasing your sensitive flesh. His hand moved to grip your hip as he slowly rocked against you, his cock gliding back and forth along your slit.
Cregan groaned and captured your lips in a searing kiss as he grinded against you. The friction was maddening, stoking the fire building low in your belly. You whimpered into his mouth, desperately seeking more.
Seeming to sense your need, Cregan shifted and slowly pushed inside you. You both moaned as he sank deep, stretching and filling you completely.
"Gods, youâre taking me so well," Cregan breathed against your skin. His hand splayed across your stomach, holding you close as he began to move, setting a languid pace as he rocked into you from behind. One hand gripped your hip while the other snaked around to tease your clit. Pleasure radiated through your body with each thrust, building steadily higher.
"Cregan," you gasped, clutching at his arm.
He quickened his pace in response, driving into you more forcefully. The new angle had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Combined with his fingers on your clit, it was rapidly pushing you towards the edge.
"Let go, love," Cregan urged. "I've got you."
With a few more well-aimed thrusts, you shattered. Waves of bliss crashed over you as you cried out Cregan's name. He groaned and followed you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you.
As you both came down from your post-coital bliss, Cregan peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. He held you close, his arms a warm cocoon of safety and comfort. However, your fragile bubble of happiness burst under the weight of reality when the first light of dawn broke through the night sky.
Cregan sighed and released his hold on you, stretching his back, and you couldnât help but admire the way the muscles rippled.
âI should probably go,â he reluctantly said. You nodded in understanding, knowing that it would be a scandal should anyone find the Lord of Winterfell exiting your chambers at an inappropriate hour.
âBest be quick about it,â you stated as you sat up, holding a fur against your chest to cover your modesty and somehow shield your heart. Cregan quickly dressed and sat at the edge of your bed, placing his hand against your cheek.
âI know you probably do not believe me, but I meant everything I said last night,â he reiterated with a kiss. âI love you.â
You returned the kiss, and he got up and quietly opened the door to leave. He turned to look at you one more time and you gave him a small smile, however on the inside you were an anxious wreck.
Cregan quietly shut the door and turned to walk to his chambers, his mind swirling with the events of the night. For once, he had let himself go and not held back his feelings. He had confessed his love to you, and he felt lighter for it.
However, a dark cloud also loomed over him. He knew that he had placed himself in an impossible position, caught between doing what he was duty bound to do, and what he wanted to do for himself.
Cregan knew that what the two of you had done was irresponsible, especially since he was still betrothed to Arra. And he had taken your maidenhood, something that was deeply frowned upon, especially since it was out of wedlock. He was aware that there would be dire consequences for his actions, and he needed to take time to figure out what he was going to do.
Cregan was so preoccupied with his pondering on his way to his chambers, that he did not realize that someone was waiting for him outside his door.
âCregan,â a voice called, and his eyes snapped towards where the dimly lit figure sat.
âCerwyn,â he awkwardly greeted as his friend stepped into the light. Cerwyn was no idiot. Cregan knew that from his disheveled appearance, the direction he had been coming from, and the unusual hour, his friend would easily surmise the situation.
âTaking a late-night stroll, my friend?â Cerwyn jested with a grin. âOr shall I say an early-morning one?â
âUhâŚâ Cregan scrambled to produce an answer but came up short.
âPerhaps we should speak somewhere more private,â Cerwyn suggested, sensing Creganâs unease at giving an answer in such an exposed space. Cregan nodded and pushed the door to his solar open, quickly stepping inside, his companion following closely behind him.
Cregan ran a hand through his unruly hair, still damp from the heat of the night. He tried to compose himself as Cerwyn shut the door behind him, leaning casually against it with his arms crossed.
âWell,â Cerwyn began, his tone light yet laced with knowing. âI take it the feast was not the only eventful part of your evening? I would wager a full cask of wine that your âstrollâ had something to do with her.â
Cregan shot him a sharp look, but there was no malice behind it. He sighed heavily, sinking into the chair by the hearth, his broad shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. âSpare me your jests, Cerwyn.â
âNo jests, then. But do not bother denying it,â Cerwyn said, stepping away from the door and closer to the desk where Cregan now stood. âYou look like a man who has both won a battle and lost a war in the same night. And the direction you were coming from makes it rather obvious.â
For a long moment, Cregan said nothing. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint crackle of the dying embers in the hearth. Finally, Cregan spoke, his voice low. âI have made a mess of things.â
Cerwyn raised an eyebrow but didnât interrupt, letting his friend continue.
âI⌠I love her, Cerwyn,â Cregan admitted, his words heavy with emotion. âI have loved her for years, longer than I care to admit. And last night⌠I told her. I told her everything.â
âAnd?â he prompted.
âAnd I acted on it,â Cregan confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. âI could not stop myself. I did not want to. But now⌠gods, Cerwyn, I do not know what to do. I am betrothed to Arra. I have a duty to my house, to the North. But I cannotââ He broke off, his hands clenching into fists. âI cannot let her go.â
Cerwyn leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. âCregan, I have known you long enough to see the way you look at her. And I have known her long enough to see the way she looks at you. But this⌠this is not just about the two of you...â
Cregan looked away, his jaw tight. âI know that. I know I have made things worse for herâfor both of us. But for one night⌠I did not care. For one night, I let myself have her. I should not have⌠but I could not stop myself.â
âCregan, you know what this could meanâwhat it will meanâif anyone finds out. It will not just be your honor on the line. It will be hers as well.â
âI know,â Cregan snapped, his voice tinged with frustration and guilt. âBut Iâdamn it, Cerwyn, I love her. I have always loved her.â
Cerwynâs expression softened in understanding. âBut love alone does not untangle this mess you have made.â
Cregan looked away, his jaw tight. âI know that. I am bound to Arra, as my duty demands. But my heart⌠my heart belongs to her. It always has. But I know I cannot easily break my oath to Arra. It is more than a marriage; it is an alliance. It is the future of the North.â
Cerwyn straightened, his brow furrowing as he studied his friend. âAnd what about her future, Cregan? What about her happiness? Do you think she will wait for you forever while you tear yourself apart trying to please everyone but her? She has turned down every suitor, myself included, because she has waited and continues to wait. She has countless men vying for her attention, and yet all she sees is you. Any man would happily make her their bride, but she does not want just any man, Cregan. She wants you. I have loyally stood by your side over the years, and I will do so until my final breath, but I refuse to let her heart keep breaking over you. If you choose to pursue her, then pursue her properly, do not continue to taint her honor and yours. But should you choose to cast her aside once more, I will seek her hand and try to give her the happiness that she deserves.â
Cregan opened his mouth to respond, but the words wouldnât come. He had no answerâat least not one that would satisfy either of them.
Cerwyn sighed, stepping back, and giving Cregan a look that was equal parts exasperation and sympathy. âYou need to make a choice, Cregan. And soon. Because if you do not, you will lose her. And I promise you, that loss will haunt you far more than breaking an alliance ever could.â
With that, Cerwyn turned and walked to the door, pausing only to glance back at Cregan one last time. âYou may be Lord of Winterfell, but even a lord cannot have everything. Remember that, my friend.â
And then he was gone, leaving Cregan alone in the dim light of his solar, his thoughts a storm of guilt, longing, and the faint, flickering hope that he could somehow find a way to set things right. The choices before him were clear, but none of them came without a cost.
He would either lose you or lose the North.
Once Cregan left, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether you should try to sleep or not. You closed your eyes and tried to clear your head, but to no avail. In the absence of Creganâs warm embrace, you could not sleep.
Sitting up, you began to dress, the brightening light of morning peeking through the window offering a semblance of comfort in such a dreary place. Brushing your hair, you thought of what the day would bring.
Would Cregan keep his promise?
He does not exactly have the best history of keeping them.
Last night should not have happened.
Or this morning.
It was wrong.
But also felt so right.
What am I going to do?!
Sighing heavily, you grabbed your cloak and made your way through the faintly lit halls, opting to speak to Sara about what had occurred the night before. Even with the thick furs around your body, the halls of Winterfell seemed more cold than usual, and you could not help but quicken your steps.
At first, you looked in the kitchens but found no sight of her. You knew it she would not be in the Glass Gardens just yet, so you surmised that she must be in the library. You hastily made your way up the steps of the Library Tower, the cold no longer bothering you. Entering the tower, you spotted Sara in the corner, placing books back on a shelf.
She gave you a smile when she saw you, however the gloom expression on your face quickly made her concerned.
âI would say good morrow, however it seems that it may not be so,â she stated, placing her books on a nearby table. You shook your head.
âI have something I would like to discuss with you,â you said, not caring for formalities at such an early hour. Sara gestured to a set of chairs by a window, and you promptly took a seat, trying to steady your breathing after rushing up the steps.
âWhat is it?â she inquired. âAre you unwell?â You shook your head again.
âNo,â you answered. âButâŚ. I fear that I may have made a grave mistake last night after the feast.â She looked at you and nodded to continue.
âCregan came by my chambers,â you began, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the admission pressing down on your chest, and you couldnât quite meet her eye.
âAnd?â she prompted gently, though there was a flicker in her gaze that made your stomach turn. You shift your weight, your hands fidgeting on your lap
âAnd⌠I made a mistake.â The words come out softer than you intended, but they feel heavy in the air between you.
Sara didnât immediately react, letting the moment stretch. When she spoke, her voice was steady and careful.
âWhat kind of mistake?â
You risked a glance at her, worried about how she would react to what you were about to tell her. She remained neutral, her face betraying nothing. You knew then that she would not judge you. So, you swallowed back your pride and confessed.
About Cregan, about his confession and his promise.
About his declaration of giving up the North just to be with you.
And how you told him not to do such a rash thing.
About you and him, together.
About last night, and how it felt to be in his arms.
You confessed about the events of the morning, the way that it felt to have him touch you.
You confessed that you had given him your maidenhead, something that was supposed to be saved for your future husband.
Your friend didn't move or speak, letting you get all of it out.
You had not meant for him to come to your chambers and confess his love for you.
You had not meant for the two of you to be together.
But it had happened.
And there was no going back.
Sara took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours, her gaze unwavering.
"I know that you love him, and now you know that he loves you, but what you did was very foolish.â
âI know,â you replied, your head hung low.
Saraâs hand tightened slightly over yours, not in reprimand but in reassurance. Her expression softened, though there was a shadow of worry behind her eyes.
âYou have done something that cannot be undone,â she said quietly, her voice firm but kind. âI am not here to judge you, but I cannot ignore the consequences either. If anyone finds out, it will not just be your reputation at stakeâit could ruin you both. And if Cregan does not act carefully, it could bring shame upon the Stark name as well.â
You nodded slowly, your stomach knotting with guilt and dread. âI know,â you whispered, your voice cracking. âI know it was wrong, but I⌠I could not stop myself. I have loved him for so long, Sara. And for one moment, it felt like everything I had ever wanted was within my grasp.â
Saraâs lips pressed into a thin line, and she took a moment before responding. âYou have always been strong, stronger than you realize. But love⌠love can make fools of even the wisest of us. I do not doubt Cregan loves you; he has made that clear. But what he does next matters far more than his wordsâor even what happened last night.â
You blinked at her, caught off guard by the clarity of her statement. âWhat do you mean?â
Sara sighed, leaning back in her chair. âHe says he loves you, and I believe him. Saying that he would give up everything for you sounds romantic, but we all know that it would come at a terrible cost. Cregan is bound to the North, to duty, and to Arra. You were right to tell him not to abandon his duty. His choices will affect not just himself but his house, his people, and you. If he truly loves you, he will find a way to fight for you while protecting what he has now. That is what you deserve. Anything less, and he is not worthy of the love you have given him.â
Your chest ached at the truth in her words. âAnd if he does not fight for me?â
Saraâs gaze hardened, though her voice remained gentle. âThen you must let him go. You cannot live your life as someoneâs second choice, no matter how much you love him. You deserve more than stolen moments in the shadowsâor the burden of a man who cannot choose you without destroying himself.â
Tears pricked your eyes, but you nodded, her words sinking into your heart like stones. âWhat should I do, Sara? I feel so⌠lost.â
She tilted her head, considering her words carefully. âFor now, you must carry on as if nothing happened. Let Cregan come to you with a plan, if he has one. Do not chase him, do not plead for his love. He knows where you standâhe knows what he stands to lose. Let him decide if he is willing to risk it all for you. But be clear with yourself: if he offers you nothing but whispers in the dark and fleeting promises, you must walk away. That is not loveâit is selfishness.â
You wiped at your eyes, grateful for Saraâs unwavering support. âAnd if he does not come to me at all?â
Sara smiled faintly, though it didnât quite reach her eyes. âThen you will have your answer. And when that time comes, you will need to decide if you are willing to let someone else inâsomeone like Cerwyn, perhaps.â
Your heart twisted at the mention of Cerwyn. âHe deserves someone who can love him fully. I do not know if I can give him that.â
Sara shrugged lightly. âLove is not always instant, nor is it always easy. But Cerwyn is a good man. He sees you, values you, and would give you a life filled with kindness and stability. That is more than many can say for their marriages.â
You did not respond, your mind whirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of the morning sun filtering through the window did little to chase away the chill in your bones.
After a long silence, Sara gave your hand one final squeeze before rising from her chair. âWhatever happens, I will stand by you. Just promise me one thing.â
You looked up at her, your voice barely audible. âWhat?â
âPromise me that you will protect yourself. Do not let love blind you to your own worth. You are more than someoneâs secret, and you deserve to be someoneâs first choice.â
Her words stayed with you long after she left the library, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and you could not help but wonder if Cregan would truly fight for youâor if his duty to the North would outweigh his love.
And if the answer were the latter, what would become of you?
The sun had just begun to crest over the horizon as you made your way to the stables, the early morning chill biting at your cheeks. Saraâs words still lingered in your mind, heavy and unrelenting, as you saddled your horse.
You needed clarityâspace to think. A ride through the Wolfswood always helped to clear your head, the solitude of the trees offering a sense of peace you could not find within the walls of Winterfell.
As you led your horse from the stables, the sound of boots crunching against the frozen earth caught your attention. You glanced up to see Lord Cerwyn approaching on foot, his dark riding cloak draped over one shoulder.
Your mind drifted to the feast, recalling the brief conversation youâd had with Cerwyn amid the flurry of toasts and stolen glances. You had both agreed to meet, though neither of you had settled on when. Still, you had not expected to run into him so soon.
âGood morning, my lady,â he greeted, a warm smile softening his sharp features, though his brows lifted slightly in surprise. âI did not expect to see you so early.â
You managed a small smile, though your mind felt heavy. âNor did I,â you admitted quietly. âBut I suppose this gives us a chance to talk sooner rather than later.â
His smile widened, the warmth in his gaze unmistakable. âI will not argue with that,â he said before his sharp eyes scanned your face. âThough you look like you have not slept.â
You glanced at your horse, already saddled and ready to ride, trying to deflect. âI just needed some air.â
âPlanning to ride out alone?â he asked, his tone steady but touched with concern.
Your grip on the reins tightened defensively. âYes,â you replied, though the word felt like an incomplete truth.
âThen let me join you,â he offered without hesitation, stepping closer. His tone was calm, unassuming, but his gaze held steady. âIf you are going to ride out alone, you might as well have company.â
You hesitated, your eyes flickering over him. His presence was grounding, and part of you welcomed the thought of not being alone with your swirling thoughts.
âFine,â you said quietly, motioning toward the stable. âYou had better saddle your horse, then.â
Without missing a beat, Cerwyn strode past you into the stable. It wasnât long before he emerged leading his own mount, the movement swift and practiced.
As he adjusted the reins and swung into the saddle, he cast you a sidelong glance. âYou know, youâre not as convincing as you think when you say you are fine.â
You shot him a look, but his smile was more knowing than teasing. âI am fine enough, Cerwynâ you muttered, climbing onto your own horse.
âWe shall see about that,â he said lightly, as the two of you nudged your horses forward into the Wolfswood.
You rode in silence as the trees of the Wolfswood closed in around you, their bare branches casting long shadows across the frost-covered ground. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the earth filled the quiet, a steady cadence that seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest.
The frost-covered trees blurred past as you rode, the cool air biting at your cheeks. Lord Cerwyn rode beside you, his presence steady and quiet, though you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. He was not pressing you to speak, but his silence was deliberate, leaving the space open for you to fill it.
Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, you broke the stillness. âSomething⌠happened last night,â you began, your voice shaking as you tightened your grip on the reins.
Cerwyn turned his head toward you, his expression calm but knowing. âWith Cregan?â
Your stomach dropped. His tone wasnât accusatory, but the way he said itâso sureâmade your chest tighten. You nodded hesitantly, unable to meet his eyes. âHe⌠he came to me after the feast,â you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. âHe said thingsâthings I was not expecting. And Iââ You stopped, your throat tightening as shame and confusion warred within you. âI gave myself to him.â
You braced yourself for judgment, but Cerwynâs expression did not change. Instead, he slowed his horse, letting the silence stretch between you before speaking. âI know,â he said softly.
Your head snapped toward him, your breath hitching. âYou⌠you know?â
Cerwynâs gaze didnât waver. âHe told me.â
The words hit you like a blow, and for a moment, you couldnât breathe. âWhat⌠what did he say?â
âEnough,â Cerwyn replied, his tone even. âEnough to know that he loves you, that he has been carrying this weight for a long time, and that he had made a mess of thingsâfor both of you.â
You swallowed hard, the knot in your chest tightening. âI⌠I did not mean for this to happen,â you whispered. âI did not mean to ruin everything.â
âYou have not ruined anything,â Cerwyn said firmly. âThe world may tell you otherwise, but that doesnât make it true.â
Tears pricked at your eyes as you shook your head. âI am no longer a maiden, Cerwyn. What man would want that? What kind of future could I possibly have now?â
Cerwyn slowed his horse further, his expression softening as he looked at you. âYou think less of yourself because of what happened? You think it diminishes your worth?â
âI do not know what to think,â you admitted, your voice breaking. âI have been told my whole life what I am supposed to be, how I am supposed to act. And now⌠I have ruined it all.â
He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze steady. âYou are still you. You are still kind, strong, and endlessly stubborn. One night does not change that, and it certainly does not make you less deserving of love or happiness.â
You bit your lip, tears threatening to fall. âBut if anyone finds outâif she finds outâŚâ
âArra,â he said knowingly.
You nodded, your hands trembling on the reins. âI do not want to hurt anyone. I never wanted this to happen. But Iââ You faltered, the words catching in your throat.
âBut you love him,â Cerwyn finished quietly.
Your breath hitched, and you looked away, unable to meet his eyes. âIt does not matter,â you murmured. âHe is promised to her. He has duties, responsibilities⌠and Iââ
âYou think you are not enough for him,â Cerwyn said, his tone gentle but unwavering. âBut you are. You have always been enough. The question is not whether he loves youâit is whether he is willing to fight for you. And whether you are willing to let him.â
You stared at him, his words cutting through the fog of doubt clouding your mind. âYou think he should fight for me?â
âI think you both need to decide what you want and what you are willing to risk for it,â he replied. âThis is not just about love. It is about choicesâand consequences. If you two want to be together, you will have to face them together. But if you do notâŚâ He trailed off, his expression tightening.
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily on your chest. âWhat would you do?â you asked, your voice trembling. âIf you were in his position?â
Cerwyn was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant as he considered your question. âI do not know,â he admitted finally. âI am not Cregan, and I cannot pretend to understand all that weighs on him. But if it were me⌠I would want to do what is best for both of us. Even if it meant letting go.â
Your brow furrowed, your heart aching at the thought. âLetting go?â
He gave a small, sad smile. âSometimes love means making the harder choice. But it is not my choice to makeâit is his. And yours.â
You looked away, tears slipping down your cheeks as his words settled deep within you. âIt all feels so impossible.â
âIt is,â Cerwyn said softly, âuntil it is not.â
You glanced back at him, his gaze steady and unwavering. Despite everything, he wasnât judging you. He wasnât condemning you. He was simply there, offering his quiet support.
âThank you,â you whispered, your voice breaking.
He reached over, his hand brushing yours briefly. âAlways,â he said, and in that moment, you believed him.
The two of you continued your ride in silence, the Wolfswood stretching endlessly before you. But for the first time in what felt like days, a fragile, uncertain hope began to stir within your heart, subtle but undeniably there.
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#cregan stark#tom taylor#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#cregan fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark fanfic#cregan x reader#cregan x you#cregan x y/n#cregan stark x y/n#hotd cregan#cregan stark imagine
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Where are all the cregan fics?đđ pls fic writers start writing more cregan and jacaerys fics I miss reading and reposting like 3-5 fics every night
#house of the dragon#cregan stark x reader#jacaerys velaryon#cregan stark#cregan fanfiction#harry collett#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark fanfiction#cregan stark smut#rhaenyra targeryan#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys smut#jacaerys velaryon fanfiction#jacaerys velaryon imagine#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon smut#cregan stark imagines#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark x you#hotd cregan#cregan x reader#cregan x you
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The twitter is situation is crazyđ
BUT
I had a thought last night while I was thinking ab the stark men yk usual activities đ
I just thought about how they would fuck you so hard you pass out
Like theyâre pounding into you like theyâre in rut and you canât even remember how many orgasms youâve had until your vision starts to go black with pleasure.
THEYD BE SO SWEET AB IT TOO
Robb would lowks tease you though đ¤
THEYD FEEL SO BAD STOP đđ so guilty for being too caught up in everything to notice you slipping away (you poor thing) but youâre right in them being so sweet about it !!
theyâd stop immediately, sitting with you until you come to & apologizing so profusely. fetching you water so you can rehydrate and dressing you both so the maester can take a look and make sure youâre okay (you say youâre fine about a thousand times, but they insist) (bless their hearts)
then afterwards theyâre insistent on waiting on you hand and foot â and if youâre the independent type, you quite literally have to fight them on it i fear. they just feel too guilty to let you do anythign yourself for a few days after. & you can best BELIEVE they become religious about checking in on you during sex, âare you alright?â âyâokay?â âshould we stop?â
but you canât bring yourself to be upset at them for it â they just donât wanna hurt their girl <3
#dippys asks#it would be like two weeks before robb can tease you about it#but he definitely would (affectionately)#and you donât even mind that much because whenever he does it thereâs always that little twinkle of guilt in his eye#âthinking about the stark men yk usual activitiesâ#RARARA REAL#and the twitter situation is crazy#ykw bless MY heart while u at it đ#game of thrones#house of the dragon#cregan stark#jon snow#robb stark#cregan stark x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow x reader#the stark men
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Spoilers for chapter 34 of Moonlight
âThe Wickedâs lives are lonelyâ
#fanfiction#damn-stark#moonlight#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd fanfiction#chapter 34#cregan stark fanfiction#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark x female reader#cregan stark x targaryen!reader#cregan stark x velaryon!reader#cregan stark x fem!reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader#aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#corlys velaryon#rhaena targaryen#rhaenyra targaryen#kermit tully
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Tradition.
Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader
Summary: the reader and Cregan go to King's Landing to support her nephew, Luke's, Velaryon claim. She goes into early labor away from the North.
Warnings: Aegon is his own warning, body shaming, talks of brothels and stuff, labor, blood, death, fighting, all that stuff.
A/n: Based on an ask! I'll proofread later đ
Masterlist
.......................................................
Cregan held out his hand to help his very pregnant wife out of the carriage.Â
He absolutely hated riding by carriage. It seemed pointless when you could ride a horse instead. But when summoned to King's Landing by King Viserys with his Targaryen wife to join the rest of her family, he had to guarantee her safety on the travel by any means necessary.
Alicent's face lit up at the sight of her daughter, practically running over Cregan to get to her. She embraced the pregnant woman tightly, "Oh, my love! How you've changed!"Â
Y/n hugged her mother back just as firmly with a smile, "I've missed you, mother."
Alicent pulled away and admired her grown girl, "King's Landing is better with you here." Only then did Alicent notice Cregan, "Oh. Lord Stark."
Cregan bowed his head politely, "My queen."
"Cregan has been eager to see King's Landing again," Y/n chirped in, "He has only been a few times."
Alicent's brows lifted, "Really? I wouldn't have thought that."
He nodded, "I could've been patient enough to wait until after the birth, but alas, when the King calls, you answer."
Alicent gave a forced smile, "Right. Of course. The birth." She looked to her daughter, "How far along are you, my dear?"
"Nearing eight moons now," she said nervously with a hand on her swollen stomach.
Alicent didn't miss the equally nervous and protective look in Cregan's eyes.
âŚ
Dinner that night was beyond tense.Â
What was joy for Viserys was misery for everyone else.
Watching the king decay at the table and the rest of them squabble over trivial matters that seemed of great importance.
"A toast to the young princes and their betrothed."
Aegon leaned over to his nephew Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."
A glare was sent his way by Jace and Baela.
Y/n caught on and quickly looked to Aemond, who sipped his wine with no reaction.
"You do know how the act is done, I assume?" Aegon continued. "At least, in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"
Jace's jaw clenched, "You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."
"Aegon." Y/n hissed through her teeth across the table.
His head immediately snapped to his sister in annoyance, "What?"
"Let it alone."
He scoffed lightly, "What do you mean? I'm only asking." He gained a grin, "It's not like I have to ask Lord Stark that. Look at the state of you!" He gestured to her swollen belly.
Cregan's grip on his fork tightened, turning his knuckles white.Â
She placed a hand over her stomach and grimaced, "At least I was able to find a husband that wanted me. Mother had to force you to marry the only girl around, and that was Helaena."
Aegon gave an incredible glare, one that his sibling shot back.
Aemond became amused.
"Let us not fight at the table," Alicent reprimanded lightly.
Y/n looked to Jace, who gave a small nod of gratitude.
Silence filled the room until the King's long monologue of the need for peace in the house.Â
Rhaenyra and Alicent gave small and seemingly back-handed toasts but Y/n was too set on the continuous mischievous look in her brother's eye.
And she called it right when he stood and moved to whisper in Baela's ear.
It was clear that it was muttered with the intention of riling up Jace, which it did quite well.
He stood up in anger, slamming his fist on the table.
Cregan, who had remained entirely silent thus far, instinctually moved a hand across his wife as if shielding her and the child.
The tense toasts only got worse from there.
Luckily, the music seemed to drown out the intensity, as well as Jace's good gesture of faith in dancing with Helaena.Â
Y/n leaned over to Aemond, "Brother."
His brow raised as his eye traveled to look at her.
"It has been⌠long since I've seen you. I see you've faired quite well."
He hummed lightly, "I see you've⌠managed."
She could feel Cregan's intense gaze from behind her, "WhâŚwhat do you mean?"
Aemond smirked and leaned in to where only the two Starks could hear him, "Inpregnanted by a brute-"
Cregan's jaw clenched so hard he feared for his teeth. His voice was a hushed whisper, but still held furiously to it, "Watch your words."
Y/n held Cregan's shoulder, "Let us not do this here."
Aemond smirked with Cregan sighed and leaned back in his chair.
When Viserys was escorted from the room due to his pain, Y/n decided to leave as well, and Cregan behind her.
They claimed a pregnancy illness and Rhaenyra smirked, knowing she'd used the same card many times.
âŚ
Cregan helped her into bed, "I don't understand their need to crawl under everyone's skin like beetles."
She sighed, "They've never known life outside of a castle, Cregan. They've never been told no, and they never will. It's best to let it go."
"They mock us both. My name has been through dirt, blood, and tears, and I do not care, but yours?" He scoffed, "I will not stand by the next time you are mocked."
"It is only for a little while longer," she rebutted.
"Know that I do this for you, and only you, my love."
She smiled, "That's all I ask."
âŚ
"The north has done a number on you, really," Aegon said as he appeared at her side.
She tilted her head, "I don't know what you mean."
He shrugged, "You'reâŚ" he then gestured his arms widely. "I dunno⌠well indulged?"
She pushed down the tears that welled up in her eyes, "Why do you care?"
He scoffed and leaned in towards her, "You know how many friends of mine asked for whores that looked like you? Many."
"And?"
"And?" He asked mockingly. "And? Who wants to fuck a whore that looks like you now?"
Her jaw went slack for a moment, completely shocked by his words.Â
Finally, with now watery eyes, she spoke. "You're the worst kind of man, Aegon."
"Oh? And what kind is that?"
A sudden punch came from nowhere, landing on Aegon's jaw and sending him to the ground.Â
Cregan stood over the man's body, a predatory look in his eyes and a murderous tone in his voice, "One that can't defend his fucking words."
Y/n pulled Cregan back, "Stop!"
He wanted to fight against her, but he knew better. His shoulders rolled back and he stood tall.Â
She cursed under her breath as she took in exactly what had unfolded, "They could have your head for this, Cregan."
"Only if your brother wishes to defend his words against me again," Cregan scoffs as he looks down at the man.
Aegon sits up and huffs, wiping his nose that begins to leak blood. "Northern brute-"
"-Aegon!" She reprimands.Â
Cregan glared at Aegon for a while, then scoffed and walked off a few steps to calm himself.
Aegon stands on shaky legs as he glares at his sister, "I liked you better when you lacked a guard dog."
Cregan immediately turned back to the man with a look that said he was ready to murder him. As he stepped forward, Aegon stepped back as he began to regret his words.
"Take me to our chambers, Cregan," she lightly pleaded.Â
The wolf of the north only stared for a while before nodding, "Lead the way."
She sighed as she gave a final look to her brother. "Clean yourself up. You look like shit."
âŚ
Standing behind Rhaenyra, Y/n and Cregan whispered idly to Daemon when someone would comment something out of hand.Â
Luke's legitimacy was coming into question, and though the Starks knew the truth, they would not dare pry the inheritance from the boy's hands. That was not their place. So next to Daemon they stood as petitions were made to and against him.
Daemon leaned in to speak to Y/n, "how far along did you say you were?"
"Eight moons now," she whispered back.
Daemon let out a surprised grunt. "You're to have the child here then? That seems unlike you."
"Uncle, my father insisted I come, and I have. Whether the child is born in the North or the South, it is a Targaryen and Stark all the same."
He smiled lightly, "I suppose you're right. If you wish for someone to accompany Lord Stark to the dragon pit to choose a proper egg for the child, only say the word."
Cregan, who had been listening quietly, now leaned in, "I am to choose an egg?"
"It is tradition," she explained. "It can be before, during, or after the birth, but the father chooses the egg. If⌠If you would wish to continue that tradition."
He grinned, "I'd be delighted to try."
When Vaemond Valaryon stepped up forward to speak his mind, the Starks quieted.Â
He spoke in anger, trying to take Luke's right.Â
Y/n looked past him to her mother and siblings.Â
Aegon looked like he'd rather be doing anything else. He didn't care the outcome of this ordeal. Aemond watched intensely with his one eye, taking in every detail. And Helaena⌠sweet Helaena.Â
She needed to visit her and the children soon.
"And her children areâŚ" Vaemond paused.
The room stilled.
"Say it," Daemon whispered under his breath.
"Her children are BASTARDS!" He screamed.
Y/n jumped back in surprise as Cregan's steady hands caught her waist.
"And she. Is. a. Whore." Vaemond finished.
The air in the room stilled and became stuffy as the tension reached an all time high.
Viserys stood on unstable legs as he unsheathed his dagger, "I will have⌠your tongue for this."
A sudden slice moved through the air, and half of Vaemond's head was gone.
Blood splattered across the ones' nearest, meaning the Starks. Cregan let out an annoyed grunt.
"He can keep his tongue," Daemon said proudly as he lowered his sword.
Y/n rested a hand over her swollen stomach with a shaky hand, trying to ignore the blood that began to seep into her clothes.Â
Cregan leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Are you alright?"
"I⌠I want to go," she shuddered back.
He nodded, looking around as the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves. He held a hand firmly against her back as she became to let out an uncomfortable whine.
"Cregan, please," she whispered.
"Alright. Alright, let's go, my love," he said as he tried to move her through the crowd.
But her legs faltered as she let out a pained noise.
He caught her in panic, "Are you in pain?"
"The babeâŚ"
No longer caring for proper manners, Cregan stood tall and looked over the crowd. "MOVE!" He yelled out.
The people quieted and moved as Cregan helped his wife through the room and out of the doors.
Alicent only saw a brief glimpse of her daughter's silver hair go through the doors, and she was on edge. She ran through the crowd to follow behind them.
He held onto his wife's arm with one hand and held her waist with the other, trying to support her as they moved to their chambers.
Y/n let out a gasp, and her water broke.
Alicent caught up to them and grabbed her daughter's other arm. "It's alright. You're alright." She turned to a servant and ordered him to get the maester.Â
Sweat began to break out of the poor woman's forehead as the weight of what is happening began to settle.Â
Once on her bed, Cregan refused to move from her side, Alicent as well. Alicent rubbed soothingly across her daughter's forehead as Cregan paced at the foot of the bed.
The maester and midwives came quickly, immediately moving to the woman in labor.
"My lord, it is best if you remain outside," one of them said.
Cregan's brows furrowed in confusion. "Out⌠Outside?"
Alicent chipped in, "It is tradition. The husband waits outside of the doors."
He stared at Y/n in thought. Tradition. How that word weighed on them like boulders.Â
"Alright."
âŚ
He tried to ignore the sounds of her cries as he stood in the corridor.Â
Nothing could ease his worries.Â
In the North, it was not uncommon to be by their wife's side.Â
This was unusual to him.
"My lord," a midwife questioned as she poked her head from the room.
His eyes widened, "Is she alright?"
"The child is⌠having trouble, my lord."
That was Cregan's greatest fear. The maester in Winterfell had spent endless hours with Cregan to determine a plan for if such a thing were to occur. Now he was without a plan entirely.
"Alright?" He finally breathed.
"What do you wish for us to do?"
"What options do I have?" He spoke barely above a whisper.
The midwife gave him an empathetic look. "We can cut the child out-"
"-No." He was quick with his answer, the very thought of taking a blade to her seeming the greatest sin he could commit.
"Um⌠it will be painful, but we can help her force the child out."
"Is that safe for her?"
The midwife shrugged lightly, "More than any other option I can give you."
He nodded.
She gave a weak smile and moved back into the room, but Cregan caught the door before it closed and forced his way in.
At the sight of his wife, he felt as if a blade went into his own stomach.
She was crying in pain, the midwives forcing her hips down as she tried to move away from the pain, as if that was possible.
At the sight of him, her entire face relaxed, "CreganâŚ"
He moved to her side, "I'm here. How can I help?"
Alicent glared slightly at him.Â
"They won't⌠I can'tâŚ" Y/n whimpered out.
"They won't what?" He looked up to Alicent, "What are they doing?"
"She wishes to get up. We cannot have her standing," she explained.
Cregan was thrown off by that. "She cannot? W⌠Why ever not?" When in labor with him, Cregan's mother was said to have walked the length of Winterfell 3x over.Â
"It hurts⌠please, CreganâŚ"Â
He nodded as his expression hardened. "Let her stand."
The maester shook his head, "She is nearing the labor. She should not-"
"-She wishes to stand. She will stand."
Alicent spoke up. "Lord Stark-"
"-This is my wife and child. If she wishes to walk, then she will," he barked.Â
A fire lit behind the queen's eyes. "She will not."
The midwives watched the tension grow.
Finally, Cregan calmly reached down and began to help his wife sit up.
Alicent cursed under her breath and grabbed Cregan's wrist in an effort to stop him.
Cregan's eyes slowly moved up to Alicent's face as anger began to overcome him.Â
But she was first to speak. "You are no longer in the North. You abide by our traditions when you are here."
He'd heard enough of that word for a lifetime.Â
His words came out sharper than he intended, but he cared little to soften them. "Your family is made of vipers and cutthroats. When I take my wife and child back to Winterfell, it will truly be a miracle if you ever see them again, for I will not let her sit and be neglected and tormented. I am a brute, but I am not without heart. Now, Let. Go."
Alicent reluctantly let go.
Cregan helped Y/n sit, and she immediately felt relief. "I want to walk," she panted.
He nodded, practically holding her up as she stood. "We will walk the corridor and return." His voice had no room for argument.
Once they paced the corridor a few times, she was returned to the bed, only to find that Alicent had left. Cregan only cared about it when he noticed the tinge of sadness that moved over his laboring wife.
But he was quick to fill the gap. As she moved back to the bed, Cregan sat behind her and held her against his chest, messaging anywhere that began to ache.
The labor came soon after that. Cregan held her close as she screamed in pain and gripped his wrists. She surely left bruises.
"The babe is crowning, princess," the midwife exclaimed. "Keep pushing."
The pain came in waves that made her see white.Â
Cregan began to panic when the midwives gave one another a look. "What?"
"She is not pushing hard enough."
Y/n began to cry in frustration.
"She is pushing," Cregan sighed. "What else is there to do?"
One of them reached up and began to push on her stomach, prompting the princess to cry harder as the pain multiplied.Â
"Allow me," Cregan shifted her in his hold and carefully placed his hands where the midwife had, slowly applying pressure to the same place.
As Y/n screamed and cried, Cregan placed assuring kisses against her neck and cheek and whispered calming words to her. "You're doing well."
If the pain had not been so bad, she may have blushed.
âŚ
Cregan held the baby close to his chest as his wife slept.
"My lord," a servant finally entered and interrupted the silence. "The queen has requested to see the child."
An annoyed feeling washed over the man. Of course, she wished to.Â
The servant took note of his changed demeanor, "I can take-"
"-No," he countered. "I will go myself. Should my wife awaken in my absence, give her anything she desires."
His heavy feet stormed from the room and he walked to the queen's chambers.
Alicent turned and shock overcame her. "Lord Stark. I did not expect you to-"
"-Neither did I."
The two stared at one another for a moment before Alicent's eyes wandered to the bundle in the large lord's arms. "Healthy?"
"The very picture."
She nodded, unsure of what to say next.
"A boy," Cregan stated.
"A boy?" Alicent whispered. Any thoughts of annoyance were past to her, and she walked to the lord and eagerly looked at the child.
The baby was indeed the picture of health. Bright purple eyes looked up at the two. Dark hair sat atop his head.
"He's quite northern," she stated.
"Indeed." Cregan was sure she meant it as an insult, but he could care less. The thought of such a gift as a northern boy filled him with pride.Â
"Congratulations, Lord Stark."
He nodded. "Your daughter is fine as well."
Alicent moved away from Cregan and sat down. "That is a blessing. To all of us. She will be a perfect mother."
"Aye, she will."
The tension between the two was evident, but they wouldn't let it dull the excitement of the newest addition to the line.
"I should return to my wife."
"Please, do."
Cregan moved to the door.
"Lord Stark?" She asked.
"Yes?"
Alicent stared at him and then the babe. "Thank you. For caring for her. And now him. You are a better man than most."
Cregan sighed. It wasn't a compliment, but it was something. "Thank you, my queen. She will want for nothing until my dying breath."
"This is all I wished for her."
......................................................
Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver
#fanfiction#game of thrones x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#house of the dragon fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#house of the dragon#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones imagine#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark x targaryen!reader#cregan x reader#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark#cregan stark fanfic#hotd cregan#house of the dragon imagine
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Unlikely Places
Summary ⊠The unusual place your hotd lover likes to fuck you
Warnings ⊠Smut, straight up blasphemy (Aegon), semi-public sex
Jacaerys Velaryon
As the King, itâs not exactly wrong for the two of you to do it, but it does feel taboo every time you ride him on the Iron Throne
Every time you climbed on his lap, mindful of all the sharp points and swords, you couldnât help but think that youâre breaking some kind of rule that doesnât exist. After all, Jacaerys is the King and technically it is his seat. As the most powerful man in the realm, thereâs no one for you to answer to after doing such an act but it certainly feels like you should
The first time that he asked you to do it, you thought that he was crazy. It was so unlike Jacaerys to do something soâŚrisky, that you genuinely thought it was a prank at first
Only when realized you that your husband was completely serious did you really start to consider it
And you had to admit, the rush of power that you got as you bounced on your husbandâs cock, riding the most powerful man in the most powerful seat in the realm was nothing like youâd ever experienced before
It quickly became your guilty pleasure to do so, never minding when Jacaerys summoned you to the throne room at such late hours
For you knew what awaited you when you climbed those steps, and each time you were filled with delicious anticipation to do it all over again
Aemond Targaryen
Ever since he was a child, Aemond had been absolutely fascinated by dragons
His obsession with those beasts was almost unnatural as his mother used to say, and you were quite inclined to agree as one day, Aemond tried to convince you to let him fuck you on top of Vhagar
Of course, the request had been so ridiculous that you genuinely thought your husband to be ill at first, maybe having contracted some disease during his many travels
Only when you saw Aemondâs confident smirk did you realize that it was indeed not a jest, and your husband really did want you to ride him on top of a fucking dragon
So there you were, thousands of feet in the air and praying that you didnât fall as you straddled Aemondâs lap
You held onto him tight as your cunt sank down, your hips moving with his in the large saddle
Every kiss, every touch was concealed within the clouds, Vhagar flying steady while you rode your husband. The sound of her wings masked the pathetic way you cried for Aemond, filthy praises and words of encouragement being whispered in your ears as you soared across the skies
Aegon Targaryen
Aegon figures that if heâs going to hell anyways, he may as well have a little fun in his mortal life
Whatâs life without a little risk anyways, he figures. This is why he has no problem fucking you in the Sept of Seven, having you on your knees, naked in front of the statue of the Mother
Instead of praying to her though, you worship him. You praise his cock and the way it makes you feel so goodâbetter than praying, really
The absolute trill of someone coming in and getting caught is like no other. Sometimes, Aegon even hopes that youâll be discoveredâpreferably by his mother or that cunt of Septa thatâs always preaching about sin and virtue
He imagines their faces as he fucks you from behind, taunting you and making you look directly at the statue when you cum around him
Aegonâs never really believed in the Gods much, but the way your cunt feels wrapped around him is heavenly
And to him, thereâs truly no greater tasting sin
Daemon Targaryen
Otto Hightower had once called Daemon brazen, irresponsible, violent, arrogant, reckless and a second Maegor
He supposed that it was true, but still, Otto Hightower was a cunt in Daemonâs mind, and the Prince would do anything to get back at him
âŚIncluding fucking in his bed
In Daemonâs very weak defense, he hasnât meant to, really
When he pulled you in a for a kiss, intending to take you quickly before he had to attend a meeting later in the day, he hadnât been paying attention to where he pulled you
He just wanted to feel you, to touch you before he had to leave for the day
And what do you knowâthe place that he ends up brining you to fufill your hurried tryst was the fucking Tower of the Hand
Neither of you realize it at first, too caught up in each other to notice the amount of green, grey and white around you
It isnât until you stumble onto the actual bed, Daemon fumbling to get your clothing off do you finally look up and youâre greeted by a portrait of Otto fucking Hightower on the walls
Alarmed, you immediately tell Daemon and it takes only a second to realize where youâve accidentally stumbled
Of course, Daemon thinks itâs hilarious and even if you want to leave, a little creeped out at the thought of being fucked on the same sheets the Hand of the King sleeps on, Daemon is entirely too thrilled to leave
Once the idea is in his brain, it wonât be going any time soon
A mischievous grin grows on your loverâs face, and somehow, Dameon convinces you to let him take on Ottoâs clean, perfectly folded sheets, loving the way you mess them up with your messy fucking
Of course, heâll just blame the servants for all the mess, but now every time he faces Otto thereâs always a knowing smirk on Daemonâs face, smug that the Hand will never know the dirty things said and done on the very mattress he sleeps on
Cregan Stark
Cregan was the Lord of Winterfell, and because of that he was allowed to eat where he pleased, train where he pleasedâŚand fuck where he pleased
It was this that he reminded you of as he took you in one of the hot springs the castle had to offer, water splashing as your husbandâs hips thrust into yours
He had you on his lap, your tits pressed against his warm wet chest as you bounced on his cock
The both of you were well aware that this was a public place and that anyone could stumble upon you, but that only spurred you on more
Honestly, seeing your honorable and kind husband act so reckless was a turn on in itself, loving the way Cregan grunted and didnât care who heard him
He was lost in the feel of your cunt and the warm water which only added to the sensations
Add that to the trill of getting caught, and neither of you really lasted long when you fucked in the springs
Still panting and filled with your husbandâs seed, you grinned as you ran a hand through his tangled hair
âAnother day without being caught,â You said, slightly disappointed
Cregan shrugged. âWell, maybe weâll succeed next time.â
Benjicot Blackwood
âBen, not here! Someone could see us!â
âThen let them see. Let those Bracken cunts see how a real man pleases his Lady wife,â Benji whispered, and you couldnât even deny that fucking right on the Blackwood-Bracken boundary line didnât bring a kind of fire to your veins that you craved
Your lover had always been more shy and sweet than anything else, but you knew just how deep his hatred for the Brackens ran when he threw all of that away and fucked you so close to their territory
Deep, satisfactory moans left his lips as he rutted into you, the thrill of getting caught edging you both on like no other
You pressed against Benji, panting as his cock drove in out of you and hit your sweet spots over and over
All you could think about, all you craved was cumming around your husbandâs cock while his enemies watched; and you did
Benji was beyond proud of himself as you moaned and let the entirety of House Bracken know what was happening. Let them know how good he was making you feel
He felt bad for the wives of those smug cunts as surely theyâd never know such pleasure, but at least Benji knew that you couldnât relate
The Brackens could say whatever they wanted about his family, but at least the Blackwoods knew how to fuck
And who knows, if they were watching, then maybe theyâd even learn a thing or two from Benji
tags đˇď¸
@alyssa-dayne
#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#hotd smut#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon smut#jacaerys x reader#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#benjicot blackwood#benjicot blackwood x reader#benjicot blackwood smut#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen smut#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x reader
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â đđđđ
âđ đđđđđ đđđ đđđđ đđđđđ. â
KINKTOBER â WEEK ONE: BATH SEX.
⤿ pairings: cregan stark x jaceâs sister!reader.
⤿ word count: 4.1K.
⤿ warnings: smut (mdni), loss of virginity, bath sex, fingering (fem!rec), biting, multiple positions (cowgirl, from behind), heavy kissing, scratching, sexual ending implied, heavy breeding kink, creampie, mutual orgasm, rough(er) sex, both cregan & reader are horny
⤿ note: first kinktober request under my belt! Loved writing this one and it was a nice return to Cregan (love him with my whole being)
Even a smoldering fire wilted in the midst of the Northern chill, a biting ice that consumed all traces of warmth, swallowing it whole.
Winds from beyond The Wall whistled down from desolate lands, bringing with it its bitterness and sting, seeking to envelop all within it.
Glacial are the wreaths of snow-furled gales that blanket Winterfell in their pale harshness â it even seeps into your bones, bones forged of fire and blood.
It was difficult to take comfort in such foreign surroundings, from the dusting of ice forming on window panes to the bristling chill that rakes across your spine. The North was not Dragonstone â it was not home.
Unconventional was the singular word that plagued your mind when it came to your sudden marriage to Cregan Stark, a union made in a frenzied haste to gain allies in a brewing war.
It was as if you were merely a pawn to be moved across a board by your kin â your Mother, in particular. She was the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, yet you couldnât help but feel hopelessly abandoned here in the North, under the supposed guise of safety.
Jacaerys had departed shortly after your wedding in the Godswood, bidding his strenuous farewell before leaving you in the company of your stoic husband.
Your brother was not thrilled with the prospect, cautioning against it, but duty demanded it of you, and you dared not defy your mother. Admittedly, it couldâve been worse, this unusual match.
Cregan Stark was not a foul man â he was rough, like the uneven surface of leather or the cracks of a cliffside, a mountain so stalwart that you wondered if he ever smiled. A sliver of you pondered if his dour visage was because of you.
Stoicism seemed interwoven into his demeanor, tempestuous hues glistening with a stern wisdom that stretched far beyond his years. Cregan was only two namedays your senior, yet he behaved as if he were a grizzled veteran.
He did not consummate the night of your wedding, much to your bewilderment. You could only muster up a series of kisses and an untied gown before nervousness tore you asunder, anxiousness gnawing away at your belly.
Cregan did not press you any further, citing that he wished to give you a berth, a space to yourself as you processed your new environment. It was a sentiment that you vastly appreciated, yet you felt so completely alone.
The autumnal canopy of the Wolfswood had become your constant companion in the weeks that had passed since your union to Cregan. At dusk, you would converse with your Northern husband, whoâs exterior seemed to melt slightly with each passing day.
Duty did not always permit the two of you to spend time together â oftentimes, it kept you separated, tethered to two differing realities.
After supper, you retired to your marital chambers, prepared to end your evening with a hot bath and a bit of light reading to preoccupy your time. Cregan did not appear, which was commonplace, strategizing alongside his advisors.
Chambermaids prepared your steaming bath, hot enough to singe those without dragonâs blood coursing through their veins. Wisps of heated vapor drifted toward the ceiling of the cozy washroom, a humid warmth permeating stone.
Deliberately, you untied each strand of lace, deftly unraveling yourself from your evening gown. Fingertips graced the thick fur that lined the trim as you draped it over a chair, flicking strands of your hair aside.
Footsteps resonated outside of the mahogany door, their shadow falling across you. You hadnât expected Cregan to return so soon, prompting you to step into the water before sinking beneath, reclining against one edge.
Gentle sloshing of water caught his attention once he abandoned Ice and his cloak, retracing his steps to the door of the washroom. âMy Lady.â He greeted you, lingering just outside in hopes to converse, even if it were fleeting.
A strange lump formed within your throat as you gingerly scrubbed at your arm with floral-laden soap, throat becoming thick. âAh â my Lord,â You did not sound confident. âI wasnât expecting your return so swiftly.â
Cregan found it increasingly difficult to act gallant around you, resolve hanging by a thread, honor crumbling away. Instinct and desire festered within his heart, lust where he knew it shouldnât be â but he was a man who wanted his wife.
If this werenât so rushed in an attempt to forge allegiances, he would have courted you properly, taken the time to learn your heart before devolving to carnality.
He learned some, but he knew that you were nervous, and he could not blame you for it. Tossed to the wolves, a lone dragon â Cregan did not want to frighten you any further.
âOne can only play tactician for so long before it becomes an uphill battle,â Cregan uttered, chestnut brows furrowing together. âAre you well?â He inquired, tone one of a gentler resonance, laced with sympathy.
âWell enough,â Biting at your cheek, you considered your next words carefully, gaze boring a hole through the door. âDid you ⌠Were you wanting to join me?â As much as it turned your stomach with butterflies, you did not want to continue being so shy.
In the sight of the Old Gods, he was your husband â Cregan had treated you with the greatest care and decency, and continuing to hide from him would only worsen things. You knew that it neednât be so disconcerting.
Creganâs jaw tensed, a sly heat blooming throughout his chest as he considered your stiff proposal. It sounded uncertain, and he did not dare act on uncertainty alone. Yet, the thought was tantalizing â he thought of you often.
Some part of him felt reduced to a boy, a coil of sudden nerves that he promptly abandoned, steeling himself for you. âI would only join you if you wanted it, my lady. Do not force yourself to be uncomfortable.â He rumbled.
The more you sat, alone in the herb-speckled waters, the more you yearned. There was nothing to fear from Cregan Stark, an honorable man whose patience was as unyielding as the mountains.
To grow was to rid yourself of girlish fright, and you did just that, steadying your erratic breathing as you sat up a little straighter. You reminded yourself that he was your husband, that he would not touch you unless you asked it of him.
âI want you to,â Your saccharine voice fluttered between the iron-etched wood, now a thin degree of separation between yourself and your husband. âPlease, come in.â
Silently, Cregan prayed to the Gods to let him behave, to curb his animalistic appetite and to allow himself a gentler touch. Having already shed most of his leathers, he turned to knob, stepping inside to a homely nook of humid air and warmth.
Storm-colored hues fixed themselves to you, demure and sitting so soundly in the bathtub, yet you were the very image of perfection. His hand clenched in a desperate attempt to relieve some of his own tension.
You nearly shrank beneath the penetrating stare of your husband, whose coiled posture reminded you of a wolf preparing to strike. It made your heart hammer beneath your breast, hand gripping the edge of the tub just a little tighter.
His gaze screamed of affection, of desire, of ardor â Cregan was not as intimidating as you thought him to be, visage softening at the sight of you.
Tension clouded the washroom, thick enough to be sundered into two with a broadsword. Cregan wordlessly tugged his rugged tunic aside, exposing a thick wall of corded muscle, an impenetrable force that made your breath hitch.
To you, he seemed sculpted from a cliffside â rustic and hardened, the form of a warrior made, not chiseled, his own incarnation of godlike. Your stare shamelessly traversed the bulky plane of his musculature.
You were quick to glance away when he removed his trousers, causing you to shift beneath the water, skin glistening with a damp sheen. Again, you staved off your nerves as he lowered himself into the bath, taking up plenty of space.
In his solace, he drank you in again as if you were the finest stout, the very essence of beauty. Cregan felt the tension, the way it curled around the both of you, hesitation brewing in place of action.
It was you who shattered the silence, first with a tender smile, second with your words. âI must confess, I am glad that you are here,â A warm stirring began to unfurl across your chest. âIâve been quite lonely.â
Cregan admonished himself for your feelings in silence, visage etched with a calm empathy. âForgive me, then,â He murmured. âI did not know that my absence had become so cumbersome. I thought it best to let you adjust â alone.â
âThere is nothing to forgive,â You assured, countenance as warm as the first sigh of springtime, melting away at his icy exterior. âYou have been so understanding and kind, and I do not know how to thank you for it.â
âI would gladly make time for you, wife,â His utterance of the word wife made you shiver in delight. âI know now that this is something we will brave together, and not apart.â Cregan nodded, hoping that conversation would distract him.
He was unbearably hard, cock throbbing with such an incessant ache that he nearly abandoned the bath altogether. It was then that you reached for his hand, digits tracing along his forearm.
Cregan gripped the tub like a vice with his hand, so tense that his muscle threatened to tear apart. Your embrace was like silk, a shroud that he wished to wrap himself within. His gaze intensified, stuck to you with a fervor.
âI did not invite you inside just to converse,â Your whisper was hoarse, shrewd â you were finding your voice, and Cregan thoroughly enjoyed it. âI wish to try.â
âYou cannot try from that distance.â Creganâs tone was akin to the trembling of thunder from the skies, dripping with a thinly-veiled desire. There was affection present, yet lust seemed to win out as he coaxed you closer.
Once you waded into armâs reach, your husband brusquely tugged you into his lap, causing you to gasp as he caressed your hip. His kiss was akin to a tide of fire, washing over you with an unyielding burn, heat crawling across your flesh.
You reciprocated without hesitation, palms finding their purchase atop his chest, nails digging into muscle when you felt his cock prod into your stomach. Gods, he was intimidating â you feared your physical state on the morrow.
It was unmistakable, his passion â the desire heâd built for you came crashing down, entangled with your budding desire.
A thick, calloused palm cupped your hip, kneading into the curves there, the other finding the soft flesh of your breast. He gingerly groped your chest, fingers gracing across your nipple, evoking an excitable whine from you.
âGods, you are the most beautiful woman Iâve laid eyes upon,â Creganâs husked tone was akin to a growl, reverberating against your mouth. âMy wife.â He uttered, reveling in your flustered expression.
Lips clamored as if it would be their last dance, and he found himself kissing your jaw, your neck â wherever he could reach. It was a near-frenzy, acted upon with passion and a wolfish appetite, a desire that scorched his bones.
âCregan,â A labored moan ripped through your throat, crackling with excitement as you tilted your head backward. He thoroughly reveled at the sound of you singing his name, a rumble reverberating throughout his chest. âPlease, I need you.â
Slotted firmly within his lap, Cregan let the hand upon your hip drift elsewhere, dipping beneath the water as he sought the heat between your legs. His kisses were relentless, etched against your neck like a hot brand.
He needed you just as terribly, a want so powerful that it nearly obliterated him, scorching his heart with your own desire. His thick digits found your flower, thumb circling the pearl of your cunt.
A sharp gasp escaped you, lips agape as another wine emerged from your mouth. You hadnât been touched like this before, not from a man so learned as Cregan, who studied your body with his hawkish gaze.
Your hips possessed a mind of their own, desperately chasing after any shred of friction from his hand, nails clamping into his broad shoulders. A soft chuckle shook his body, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.
âEasy, princess,â Cregan murmured, teeth gently scraping over your jugular before he pressed a kiss there. âDo not tire yourself so quickly.â He cautioned, toying with your clit in slow, deliberate motions.
His cock prodded against your cunt, filling you with a sudden wave of anticipation. His stature seemed to confirm what you already knew, prompting you to swallow the lump within your throat.
Cregan would never tire of you, and he knew that this would not be enough to satiate his hunger for you, an appetite as ravenous as that of a starving wolf. He wanted to taste you, occupy the space between heart and ribcage, never part from you â duty be damned.
Pressing another string of greedy kisses against the column of your throat, Cregan continued to slowly circle your clit, savoring the twitches and reactions that flickered across your face. You made your pleasure known, vocalizing your delight to the heavens.
Part of you knew what to expect with the act of consummation â pain, and then pleasure, if you were fortunate enough. You trusted Cregan to handle you with care, rocking your hips atop him.
A low grunt elicited from him, one that clearly seemed pent-up. The sensation of your nethers pressing against his length drove him to madness, palm gripping hard at the small of your back. âI fear you may be the death of me.â He growled.
A shudder iced your spine, one tinged with anticipation as you sought his mouth, kissing him in your own flurry of bliss. He enjoyed your initiative, large hand tracing up and down along your back, goosebumps trailing in the wake of his caress.
âI â I want you inside of me,â Stammering over your words, your hands found the nape of his neck, clinging to his damp, chestnut tresses. âWill you be gentle?â You feared being split in half if his pace became hastened.
Cregan grit his teeth together, knowing that taking your maidenhead in such a rough way was not fair to you, nor was it kind. âOf course,â He assured, pressing a kiss against your jaw. âI wouldnât dream of harming you.â
Restraint would likely test his resolve, but Cregan was up for the challenge, hand snaking away from between your thighs. Even within his grasp, you still seemed a touch uneasy, likely due to the bundle of nerves coiled within your stomach.
âOn your own time, wife,â Cregan rumbled, content to caress along your supple frame, handling your curves as if you were molded from obsidian. You possessed the strength of a dragon â perhaps you didnât realize it yet. âI am enjoying myself.â
With a nod, you exhaled, looking to him for instruction as he reached between the both of you, guiding his cock to your entrance. The thick head pressed along your cunt, causing you to shift again.
A kiss made its residence along your jaw. âI have you,â Cregan murmured, letting you sink down onto his length. Your countenance bristled with the sting of agony, and you nearly hurried it along until his hand seized your hip. âEasy.â
Seven Hells, he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that molded you to him. It was discomforting, a pain you seldom experienced, but Cregan was soothing.
It was the sweetest torment for Cregan, cock sluggishly feeding into you, inch by inch, your cunt tight around his length. A sonorous groan bubbled within his throat as he continued to guide you, ensuring that you were not suffering.
âCregan!â A hiss escaped you, one intermingled with pleasure and pain, brow creased in concentration. It was nearly too much for you, but you persisted, enduring the newfound stretch and foreign sensations.
The tip of his length very nearly kissed your cervix, and that was his sign to cease. He let you sit, labored breathing bearing inklings of ecstasy, lips slack as you began to roll your hips.
He was strong enough to maneuver you along his cock as he saw fit, but he let you gather your bearings, find your own pace. Your soft, sweet lips sought his own, mouths clashing in a spirited kiss, one charged with a growing adoration.
Chest-to-chest, the intimacy grew tenfold, hearts beating in-tandem, making way for the wave of ardor that consumed you both. Water gently sloshed around the both of you, flesh damp, yet you had never been warmer.
Firm, steady hands kept their grasp upon the swell of your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles into your silken flesh. Cregan appraised you with starving eyes, hues as gray as swirling clouds before a winterâs storm.
âMove me,â A wanton sigh floated from your lips, evoking a sense of primal desire that he knew to shackle down. Your husband obliged, setting the pace at a slower speed for your sake. âGods, just like that.â You huffed.
Cregan fought against baser instincts, against tearing you asunder like that of a snarling beast. He guided you up and down upon his length, mouth seeking the dip between your neck and shoulder.
Teeth found their rooting there, gingerly scraping your flesh as he marked you, eliciting a throaty moan from your mouth. It was a sting that you did not expect to enjoy â but you wanted it again and again.
Tangled sighs and low, heavy breaths wove together, forming a heated cacophony that filled the washroom with your lewd activities.
He took your maidenhead with such tenderness, never once resorting to a harsher pace unless you were the one to initiate. âYou are perfect.â Cregan uttered, letting you rock up and down along his length.
The feeling of his calloused hands sinking into your plush flesh was mesmerizing, leaving behind a wave of goosebumps that crawled across your flesh. He gripped you hard enough to leave bruises, peppering kisses against your neck.
Finding your rhythm, it became easier to impale yourself upon him, gasping when his cock sheathed itself deep within you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around him, nails raking crimson trails across his shoulders.
Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, arousal honey-thick between your thighs. The more you succumbed to desire, the more carnal his pace became, losing all inhibitions of restraint.
Soap-laden water steamed around the both of you, sloshing with the movement of two bodies, locked within the throes of passion. A soft cry escaped you as he brought you down again, invigorated by the spirited rolls of your hips.
It only became messier â two souls clawing for affection, for entanglement, for a release. As you grasped his biceps for support, you changed the rhythm, letting yourself drown within desire.
A breathy, snarled curse tore past his mouth, brows furrowing together in concentration as he maneuvered you toward the tubâs thick rim. His chest was hot, slick as he pressed himself to your back.
Smoothing a calloused palm along your thigh, his thrusts became a touch erratic, cock hitting into you like the jab of a spear. âCregan!â You moaned, savoring the sensation of his mouth against your shoulder, crooked nose ghosting along your throat.
The newfound position was somewhat awkward given his stature, contorted in the smaller space of the tub, but he cared little for it. Passion drove him, the desire to breed, make you round and lovely with his children.
His hands did not leave you, caressing wherever he could, an anchor to keep you safe even in the midst of such crass acts. âGods help me,â Cregan growled, hot breath fanning across your shoulder. âI need you.â He hissed.
It was unexpected, his confession that rattled you so, sending tremors along your spine. You did not expect him to feel that way for you, yet it only furthered your arousal.
Lewd entanglements of flesh resonated throughout the washroom, accompanied by a myriad of moans and animalistic growls. Cregan became more beast than man when placed under pleasure, not that you minded.
Even if he lacked the stamina to continue, carnality willed him to devour. Your husband kissed you, touched you wherever he could, thick digits snaking between your thighs as he sought the aching pearl of your cunt.
âDo not stop,â A breathy mewl erupted from your throat as you pleaded with Cregan to continue. Once deft digits began to toy with your clit, your knees buckled, hand grasping at his forearm. âPlease, please do not stop!â
Between the feverish kisses he placed along the nape of your neck and the hand circling your clit, you felt the ecstasy mounting. The coil within your stomach began to unfurl, visage screwed up in a look of bliss.
Creganâs grunts sent shivers throughout your body, warming your insides with their fervor. His cock continued to pound in and out at a steady pace, body snug against yours.
He dared not harm you, executing caution even still, indomitable musculature hunched in over you, enveloping you on every front. As his calloused fingers flicked across your pearl, you shuddered, thighs twitching in response.
You experienced a euphoria like never before, the sensation foreign yet overwhelming, setting every fiber of your being ablaze. Water splashed over the rim of the bathtub, falling onto the stone below.
Each snap of his hips sent you reeling, cock filling you to the brim, stretching you in ways that you never thought possible. You moaned, nails digging into his arm; Creganâs pace did not deviate.
Tantalizing fantasies of putting a babe in you drove him mad, his hand drawing away from your cunt as he placed his palm over your stomach. Gods, you could feel everything â it made you buckle, release swift and white-hot.
Stars floated across your vision in the wake of your release, a choked sob of ecstasy rippling through your chest. Creganâs name rolled from your tongue like an incantation that you had committed to memory.
It was then that your husband spilled himself inside of you, aided by the wet clenching of your cunt around him. Ropes of hot, virile seed painted your womb, and you felt him press his forehead against the back of your shoulder.
Tangled, labored breaths filled the space between you both, thin as ever. Cregan did not want to stop â the night was agonizingly young, and his cock stirred within you. âAre you well, wife?â He murmured, stroking along your hip.
âI am perfect,â He could taste your smile, a bright and palpable thing. You felt him move away, momentarily sinking back beneath the water. âI â I was not expecting it to feel so pleasurable.â
âThere is plenty more beyond that,â Cregan assured, drawing you back into the wide expanse of his lap, cock nestled against the plane of your stomach. He cupped your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing your cheek. âDo you require rest?â
A coy expression flickered across your countenance as you let your fingertips playfully ghost across the tip of his length. The sudden blaze within Creganâs storm-cloud hues had made your heart leap into your throat, excitement replacing exhaustion.
A growl stirred within his chest at your wordless insinuation, and he did not seem to waste a moment of time, hooking an arm around your hips. âClearly not.â He grunted.
âDo you object?â You murmured, dragging one finger over the plane of his visage, so youthful and unblemished, a contrast to his rugged demeanor. Provoking your husband was a bold choice, one that Cregan respected.
âI do not,â Creganâs tone was little more than a grumbling of thunder, brows furrowing together as he steeled himself for what would become a lengthy evening. He adjusted your position, the head of his cock kissing your entrance once more. âYou will wish for rest when we are finished.â
#house of the dragon#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#hotd x reader#cregan x reader#cregan stark#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#hotd fanfiction#house of the dragon smut#kinktober
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His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)
summary: two years following the death of creganâs first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryenâs daughter. rhaenyraâs daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts creganâs first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.
cw: mean creganđ, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyraâs daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending
do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( iâm unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts⌠oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love â¤ď¸
âHow do you feel, my love?â Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.
You sighed. âNervous.â
She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. âI know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.â
âI know, mother.â You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.
âHad it been any other lord I would have surely declined but⌠Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.â
You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.
It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.
Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.
You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.
You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.
You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.
âMy princess.â You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. âWinterfell is yours.â
You bow in return, âNo need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.â
He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.
âPlease show the princess to her chambers.â He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.
You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.
You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.
Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.
When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.
You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldnât be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.
There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didnât bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.
It was here you met Creganâs son, Rickon.
âHi, little one.â You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.
âRickon, this is my new wife.â Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didnât even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his fatherâs leg.
âI apologize.â Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.
âIt is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.â You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.
âExcuse me, princess.â He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.
You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didnât care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.
You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.
Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. âIâve put Rickon down⌠Would you please accompany me to my chambers?â
You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.
âIs it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?â The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.
âNo!â Cregan nearly barked the order. âThere will be no bedding ceremony.â
The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.
âPrincess.â Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.
You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.
He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.
Did he share these chambers with her?
Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you werenât, he didnât care.
âUm, could you help, my lord?â You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.
He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.
His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.
He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.
You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadnât moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.
He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.
He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.
âIs this alright with you, princess?â He asks. âWe need not consummate this if you are not ready.â
For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.
You nodded, âIs it alright with you, Lord Stark?â
He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.
He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.
âOh, gods.â You mumbled under your breath.
He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.
He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadnât even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.
Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.
You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.
âPlease, please.â You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.
âWhat?â He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.
He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.
You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didnât stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.
Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.
He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.
He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.
You said nothing, but it hadnât gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.
âââ
It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.
You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didnât hover.
âMummy!â
âSh, sh, love.â You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.
Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. Heâd gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.
âMummy.â He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, âNooo. Not mummy.â
âMummy.â He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.
âWhat ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?â
âHe is not your son.â You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. âAnd his hair is fine.â
âApologies, my lord.â You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.
âCome, Rickon.â He said, beckoning his son.
âNo, mummy.â Rickon whined, holding you.
âGo see papa.â You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.
Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.
You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.
You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.
You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.
That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.
âCome in.â You looked in the mirror and saw Creganâs half sister, Sara, enter.
âHi, Sara.â You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.
âI heard what happened today.â She said, and you hummed mindlessly. âMy brother can be a bastard.â
You smiled at her in the mirror. âIs that so?â
She nods. âI wish I knew what to do, Sara.â
âWe northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brotherâs heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I donât know why.â
âWas Aly pretty?â You ask.
âYou have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.â She kisses the back of your head. âThrow a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.â
You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.
You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldnât care anyway.
A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Saraâs name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.
You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.
âMy princess.â A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. âRickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.â
You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadnât expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his âmother.â
You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.
âMummy.â He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.
âI thought he requested me by my name.â You said.
âThat is your name, princess⌠to him.â The maid closed the door.
You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. âYou know papa doesnât like that word.â
âMummy.â He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.
âSay it okay.â He says.
âHm? What do you mean, child?â You ask.
âShe say it okay to call you mummy.â
âWho?â
âMummy did.â
âNo, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.â
âNot you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.â
âYou confuse me, Rickon.â
âMummy says ignore papa.â You chuckle softly.
âSleep now, my love.â You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.
You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.
You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.
You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.
âGods, you scared me!â You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.
You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.
âI heard you sing to him.â He says softly. âWhere did you learn that song?â
âHe taught me it.â You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.
âCregan?â You say confused, turning to look up at him.
He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Creganâs sudden change of behavior.
He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.
âNot here.â You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.
You both hadnât even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.
He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.
Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.
He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.
You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.
Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.
âFuck, Alysanne.â He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.
You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.
He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.
You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.
He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.
You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldnât waken. In reality, you couldâve started screaming and he wouldnât have woke, or even shuffled.
You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.
âMy sister!â Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. âOh my gods, did you and Cregan justâŚ?â
You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. âWait, sister what is wrong? What happened?â
You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.
â
âMother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.â
You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.
âJacaerys?â You said, when your eyes landed on him.
âI take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.â He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.
âI guess you could say that.â You said, wiping your hair to the side.
âYouâre disgusting.â He says.
âGods, five minutes youâve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!â You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.
You push him out of your room.
âDonât touch me, wench!â He whines, smacking your arms.
âPiss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.â
âIâd rather harass the Lady.â You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.
You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. âJace, I said-â
You donât finish your sentence, since as you open the door itâs Sara.
âI wanna talk about last night.â
âI donât.â You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.
âWhat happened?â She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.
âDid my brother hurt you?â She asks, worried.
âNo, no.â
She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. âTell me what happened.â
You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. âWe had sex.â
âIsnât that good? What went wrong?â
âHe called me Alysanne.â You sob out.
âOh, no.â She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.
âI cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.â
âI am sorry, princess.â She says, sadly. âI thought I knew my brother better than that⌠Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.â
You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.
You cleaned yourself up and went to Creganâs chambers, knowing he would be hungover.
And you were right.
You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now youâve been in his chambers.
âYou can set it on the table.â He says, not moving the rag.
âWhat?â
âOh.â He says, his voice changing in tone. âI thought you were the maid.â
You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.
âCan whatever youâve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.â He asks, only the question is more of a statement.
âNo.â You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. âWeâre going to talk, Cregan. Weâve been married for months and I donât think weâve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. Youâve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and Iâm tired of it. Iâve helped raise your son, Iâve loved you and Iâve cared for you even when you didnât want it. You owe this to me.â
He sighs, defeated. âYou are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?â
âNo, Cregan. We will talk now.â
âYou wouldnât rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?â
âNo. Now.â You say. He sighs again.
âSay your piece.â
The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.
He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.
âOh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-â
âDo not speak to me about my wife, ever!â He yells, pointing at you.
âI am your wife!â You cry out. âYou chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!â
He goes quiet for a few moments, âYou have always had my respect, princess⌠and I know I have erred in the way Iâve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love⌠so do not expect me to love you back.â
You laugh, dryly. âYou called me Alysanne last night⌠Do you remember that? No⌠I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.â
He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.
âThe dead donât need lovers. Only the living.â You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.
The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.
He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didnât know how to show it. He didnât want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.
You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.
You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and âplainâ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.
You cried. âIâm sorry I couldnât help him.â
Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.
You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.
âââ
âYouâre a fucking fool, brother.â
âYou think I donât know that? Gods.â Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since youâd left.
âWeâll be lucky if the bloody queen doesnât declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.â
âI am trying here, Sara! Iâve sent my ravens, Iâve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!â
Sara slammed her hands on the table. âGo and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.â
Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.
You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.
Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Creganâs union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.
Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.
The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead donât need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.
He loved you. If only it hadnât taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didnât have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didnât consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.
Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.
It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.
âYour Grace!â A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. âCregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.â
Your mother looked at you, and you looked like youâd seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.
You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.
âCregan.â You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.
âI love you.â
âCreganâŚâ
âLove her?â You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. âYou love my daughter?â
âYour Grace.â Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. âIâve come to beg your forgiveness.â
She walked towards you both. âIt is not mine you need to beg for⌠I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!â
âMother!â
âYou will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.â She commands you. âWhat do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?â
He stands. âI have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.â
âWhy are you here?â Your mother asks him.
âIâve come to ask the princess to return home.â Your mother scoffs at him.
She looks at you, then back to him. âYou are lucky it is not my decision to make.â
She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.
You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.
âWhy the sudden change of heart?â You ask Cregan.
âIt took you leaving for me to realize I love you.â He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.
âI canât believe you.â You say, starting to sob.
âI know, I know.â He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. âIâm so sorry.â
âI loved you, Cregan.â You say, crying. âSince I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, youâre just like the rest.â
Cregan cries into your hair. âIâm so sorry, my princess. Iâm so, so sorry.â
You both stand there, holding each other and crying.
âPlease come home.â He says. âLet me take you home.â
âRickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister⌠I miss you, you my wife.â
You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.
âOkay.â
âââ
You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.
Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.
Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.
You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.
But you had been keeping a secret from him.
After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.
Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.
The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.
Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.
It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each otherâs hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.
Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldnât make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.
Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadnât. He didnât know why he didnât knock, he didnât know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.
Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.
He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.
You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasnât the problem. Heâd seen you naked, although it hadnât been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasnât the problem either.
It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.
Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. âCregan!â
âSorry.â He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.
âItâs fine.â You said, dropping your arm from your chest. âYou just gave me a fright.â
He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.
âWhat is that?â He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.
You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.
âPerhaps itâs time we talk.â
âYou think?â He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. âIâm sorry, princess. I didnât mean to be cross with you.â
You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.
He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.
âCan I?â He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.
âWhy didnât you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.â
âTruth be told itâs been hard for me to accept Iâm truly with a child.â You say, âThe reality had not set in until⌠well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.â
He chokes back a sob. âFeels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.â
âHe will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.â You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.
âCan I kiss you?â He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, youâre already leaning in to kiss him.
âI love you. I love you so much, my wife.â He says in between kisses.
His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.
#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#cregan smut#cregan x y/n#cregan stark smut#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark#hotd#hotd season 2#team black#house stark#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#cregan hotd#hotd imagine#house of the dragon imagine#hotd smut#winter is coming#hotd fanfic
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tf you mean "cregan was supposed to appear in the season finale and his scene was cut" give me my husband now
[update]
#cregan stark#house of the dragon#wyvernest#cregan stark x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen#aemond targaryen#benjicot blackwood#alicent hightower#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#prince jacaerys#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#game of thrones
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Without limits, without pauses, without mercy. From dusk till dawn, from dawn till dusk. From the kitchen counter, where dishes tremble at every movement, to the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, where every trembling breath echoes against the walls. From the walls that fail to contain the moans, to the cabinets that shake in rhythm with moving hips. From the bedroom mirror that mercilessly reflects every taut muscle and every trace of nails down your back, to the shower where water mixes with sweat and saliva, soaking everything: bodies, walls, and souls alike.
On the table, on the chair, on the floor, on the couch, on every piece of furniture that stands in your way. Missionary, with nails digging into your back. On top, with hands wrapped tightly around a throat. Reverse cowgirl, where the view alone drives you insane. From behind, with raised hips begging for more. Sideways, backwards, upside down, in every position that shifts with the rhythm of desire. On the dining table that groans under the weight. On the washing machine, vibrating in perfect sync with your movements. On the stairs, where every thrust reverberates like an echo through the house.
In the kitchen, where steam rises above pots, and the smell of spices mingles with the scent of overheated skin. On the windowsill, where moonlight illuminates every motion, every drop of sweat, every bite mark left on shoulders and necks. Against the fridge, its cold surface a stark contrast to the fire in your body. On the kitchen island, where hands grip the countertop and legs wrap around hips in a desperate plea for more.
In the living room, where the couch becomes a battlefield. Pillows thrown to the floor, the rug crumpled, furniture shifted, and the air thick with moans. On the coffee table, barely sturdy enough to handle the force. By the window, where curtains sway in time with your movements, the city lights outside flickering in rhythm. On the armchair, balancing on the edge, every tilt and angle pushing your pulse faster and faster.
Outside, where the cold air bites at your skin, but the heat of your bodies makes it irrelevant. On the terrace, where the night sky becomes your only witness. On the car hood, still warm from the dayâs sun. In the trunk, where every movement feels like breaking the rules. On the motorcycle, where balance is a challenge, and every moment feels like defying gravity.
In the car, where fogged-up windows shield whatâs happening inside. On the back seat, where hands pull bodies closer. In the front seat, where the steering wheel barely stays in place. In a parking lot, where the risk of being caught makes your heart race even faster. By the side of the road, where the sound of passing cars merges with ragged breaths and muffled moans.
In the forest, where the scent of earth and dampness blends with the scent of skin. In a tent, where the thin fabric barely conceals the movements, and every sound carries through the trees. On the beach, where sand sticks to sweaty skin, and the crashing waves match the rhythm of your hips. In the water, where the waves cradle your bodies, every surge amplifying the pleasure.
In a hotel, where the bed never stays in one place. Where the mirrors on the ceiling reflect every moment. In the elevator, where time seems to freeze, and the space between floors becomes your entire world. In the restaurantâs backroom, where kitchen tools tremble on the shelves, and your bodies pulse with unrelenting desire.
In the bathroom, where the mirror fogs up, and the floor is slick with water. In the shower, where hands glide over wet skin, mouths never ceasing their search for each other. In the bathtub, where warm water envelops you, and the foam becomes the only veil between you and the heat.
Every inch of skin, every hidden curve, every nerve pushed to its breaking point. Fingers sliding across sweaty flesh, teeth sinking into lips, bite marks left on necks, shoulders, hips. Backs arching into impossible shapes, legs trembling with tension, toes curling with every wave of pleasure. Breaths quickened, shallow, broken by endless screams and moans.
From the first touch to the final shudder, when your body quakes and your mind dissolves into pure bliss. From the first look that sparks the fire, to the final embrace that leaves you both spent. Without limits, without pauses, without mercy.
And then, thereâs himâin uniform, the sight enough to ignite every nerve in your body. The crisp lines of his police uniform, the badge glinting under dim light, the holster at his side holding his weapon, a reminder of the authority he wields. The weight of his presence pins you in place, his voice low and commanding, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands, firm and unyielding, trace your body as if asserting control, the leather of his belt brushing against your skin, the cold metal of his cuffs a silent threat and promise all at once. Against the wall, with his body pressed tightly to yours, his breath hot against your neck, the uniform and everything it represents only heightening the tension, the power dynamic pulling you deeper into unrelenting desire.
#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford#tim bradford smut#police#police uniform#smut#all day#stephen strange x reader#t'challa x reader#jason todd x reader#bruce wayne x reader#monster lust#hobie brown x reader#ninjago x reader#miles morales x reader#marcus acacius x reader#cregan stark x reader
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save me team black man. SAVE ME.
#addam velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#benjicot blackwood x reader#addam velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark#benjicot blackwood#kieran burton#davos blackwood#hotd#harry collett
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Cregan/Jon + Lotus position???
YES GAWDDDD đđđ
eye contact YES GAWD đ heavy breathing YES GAWD đ the closeness YES GAWD đ their head falling to the crook of your shoulder because you feel that good (say it with me now) YES GAWD đ
#dippys asks#i read an entire article on this position btw so i didnât get it wrong#iâm comitted to the craft#cregan stark#jon snow#cregan stark x reader#jon snow x reader
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Duty Is Sacrifice
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Velaryon/Strong!reader
Word Count: 2,6k
Themes & Warnings: Winterfell, pov. first person, feelings realization, fluff and smut, fingering, orgasm
Summary: Queen Rhaenyra sends you to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. In him you find not only an ally, but something deeper as wellâŚ
Song: Skin and Bones (Cinematic) - David Kushner
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The wilderness beyond the Wall sprawled before me atop the outlook, an uncharted immensity dripping with anathema. A frozen wasteland, it held a cold that seemed to seep into your very soul, promising to turn your bones to ice with a single, lingering glance.
The stories from the seasoned rangers down below had painted a vivid picture, but this, this was a masterpiece beyond mere words. The frigid air, a living entity, tore at my dark hair and the borrowed furs â those very furs my stubborn pride had initially dismissed. Now, the only thing missing from mirroring those same hardened rangers was a permanent furrow etched between my brows, a testament to countless nights spent battling the elements.Â
Their Lord was a wall of warmth which prevented the gnawing chill from consuming me. His massive form broadened at my side, his very presence thawing me. Turning to him, I observed the furrow deepening between his brows as he regarded me, though it wasnât a testament to the cold, but rather something concerned.Â
âWinterfell beckons, Princess,â he said, his timber thick with northern accent, âLet us return to warm you.âÂ
His gloved hand, rough yet surprisingly gentle, reached out for me. Relief washed over me as I grasped it, the worn leather a welcome anchor against the treacherous turret steps.
âBlazing fires. Hot stew. Howâs that sound?â His stoic expression nearly cracked to the rumble in my stomach. I noticed I was still supported in his grasp well beyond danger, when I felt his thumb tracing reassuring circles on the back of my hand, sending a delicious shiver snaking down my spine.
Gently, I returned it to my side. âThat would be most pleasant, thank you my Lord.â
Days had bled into one another at his side, treating, feasting, drinking, strategizing, and though I had no doubt I had fixed him as an ally to my motherâs claim, some other heat beneath the veneer of alliance had begun to simmer in his gaze, a spark that mirrored the disquiet blooming in my own chest.
The iron cage groaned its descent down to Castle Black, echoing through the black shaft like cries of the damned. From the moment I stepped foot in Winterfell, heâd woven a tapestry of comfort. He recalled every detail I mentioned in passing, and behind his every effort to make me feel at home was a gesture conforming to something Iâd previously told him I enjoyed â a steaming mug of my favorite herbal tea, a book on a subject Iâd once expressed interest in. He was unlike any man Iâd encountered. Each word he uttered was a silken caress, so gentle it felt like he feared his own timber could bruise me. But a heavy weight had settled in my chest. My replies had now become clipped, mere whispers that barely escaped my lips. There was so much more at stake now beyond my desires. Duty loomed heavy on my shoulders. I feared any careless words or lingering glances could brittle the alliance with the Starks to pieces.
We mounted our horses and begun our nigh-on two days ride back to Winterfell. Though not as biting as the Wallâs teeth, the wind on the Kingsroad still carried a relentless edge. The only warmth to be found radiated shyly from the small fires Creganâs bannermen had built, and the thick fur I wove tightly around myself at night.
As the colossal granite form of Winterfell finally clawed its way up from the horizon, a wave of exhaustion crashed into me, settling heavy in my bones. Dismounting was an ordeal. Every muscle in my body throbbed in protest from the daysâ ride. My legs, leaden weights, buckled before I could even consider lowering myself.Â
But before I could hit the ground, strong arms, surprisingly gentle, encircled my waist, and lifted me from the saddle before I could even think to react.Â
We stood there, my body swaying slightly in his arms, our eyes lingering on each other for a second beyond my comfort. His eyes, normally the clear blue of a summer sky, were now a stormy gray, swirling with unspoken concern. A tremor of something akin to fear danced in my chest, battling the unexpected flutter at his touch.Â
âApologies, my Lord,â I stammered, cheeks flushing with a heat that had naught to do with exertion. âDragon saddle is one thing, but I fear horseback is another entirely.â I smiled apologetically.Â
Creganâs fingers lingered on my waist, a gentle caress that singed through my leathers and into my very skin, sending a jolt through me. He withdrew them slowly, and my side ached from their absence.Â
âFret not, Princess,â he rumbled, his voice a warm current, âTwo days on horseback have felled men twice your size.â
I giggled to his obvious attempt at comforting me. âI wouldnât bet on that,â I replied, taking trembling steps toward the castle.
Once in my chambers, I collapsed onto the bed; sleep, thick and heavy, stealing the day. When I finally opened my eyes, the only light in the room spilled from the dying embers in the hearth.Â
A gnawing hunger, cold and insistent, hollowed my gut. With a deep breath, I rose, and dressed in my house colors, the fabric thick with responsibility. Then, I descended the steps in my hunt for scraps.
The massive oak doors of the Great Hall ground open, revealing a cavernous space bathed in the flickering, golden glow of a roaring fire. Laughter and the murmur of rough voices hung in the air. Fur cloaked figures huddled around the immense hearth at the far end, casting dancing shadows on the towering walls. Lord Stark sat amidst his bannermen; tankards raised in boisterous revelry.Â
The merriment dipped as I entered. Heads swiveled my way, some splitting into knowing grins. The bannermen rose in unison, scattering like startled crows, their boisterousness replaced by a respectful chorus of greetings and a flurry of curt bows.Â
âMy regrets for missing supper,â I said, drawing Creganâs heavy gaze. His shadowed form, a giant even in the flickering firelight, rose with a quiet grace that belied his imposing physique.Â
âYou need not worry,â he said, ladling steaming stew from a small pot over the fire and offered me the bowl with one hand. A grateful smile lit my face as I accepted it.Â
âYou grow quite comely as a serving girl,â I jested, a flicker of triumph igniting in my chest when his mouth quirked up into a faint smirk, a flicker of warmth dancing in his eyes, a rare concession on his normally stoic face.Â
I settled onto the bench beside his chair and began devouring the stew, its meat and vegetables soothing the ache in my belly. As I ate, I stole glances at Cregan, his face bathed in the rich firelight, a mask of unreadable emotions.Â
Regret, sharp and unwelcome, tightened in my chest as I observed him. I had a duty fulfilled, but a heart unsatiated. I had come to Winterfell to remind him of the oath his house swore to my mother, and he had not left me wanton. Yet, the journey back to Dragonstone loomed large in my mind. The prospect of leaving him, perhaps for a very long time, cast a long shadow. Unless he too agreed to join us.
âThe Queenâs sworn allies are too few to win a war for the throne,â I declared, my voice tight with the weight of responsibility, âShe needs your men.â
His jaw clenched, his stoicism returning like a steel mask. âCursed be the Hightowers,â he growled, venom lacing his voice. âBut winter is coming. War of dragons is never a small ordeal. If the Queen is in need of my men to defeat the usurper, you must allow me to wait out the winter.â
Despair clawed at my throat. Memories and tales of past winters surfaced, stretching on for months, even years. Without the full support of the North, we could be crushed before winter even loosened its icy grip. Perhaps reduced to cinders beneath the wrath of the dragons.Â
âIt will be too late,â I pleaded, the urgency in my voice cracking the carefully constructed façade I had built.
Cregan met my gaze, his eyes a stormy gray. âItâs the best I can do, Princess. I hope you will forgive me.â
A spark of anger ignited within me, battling the tendrils of despair. âYou swore an oath, Lord Stark.â
He held my stare, unwavering. âI havenât forgotten,â he said, âYou will have two thousand greybeards that can be ready to march at once.â
âWhat of you?â My voice trembled, tears welling up before I had the strength to stop them. âWhat if this is goodbye?âÂ
Understanding suddenly dawned in his eyes, and his brows furrowed in what I thought was despair. He came to sit beside me, the wood groaning under his weight. His large, calloused thumbs painted the tears across my cheeks.Â
âI assure you, Princess,â he said softly, âThis is not goodbye.â His hand came up to grasp my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting it up to meet his intense gaze. âI swear it,â he vowed, steel threading through his words. Hope surged through me; a lifeline cast into the churning sea of anguish.Â
Starks do not forget an oath.Â
âThe Hightowers were doomed the second they put the imposter on that throne,â Cregan rumbled, his voice a low caress.Â
The space between us seemed to have dissolved, his calloused hands engulfing mine in a firm, reassuring grasp. Silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions, tension dripping like honey. I waited for him to say something else, but he remained still, quiet, his fingers slowly and gently exploring mine, each touch sending sparks of lightning up my arms. I met his gaze, my breathing shallowing as I realized his lips were but a whisper away, his dark eyes shimmering with heat, flickering with an unspoken hunger that seethed beneath my skin with each second.Â
âTheir betrayalâŚâ His voice was barely a whisper, his fingers ceased their dance with mine, and began their path up my arms, ââŚwill not go unpunished,â he said thickly, his hands now grazing my upper arms, up my shoulders, ceasing at the curve of my neck, the movement sending a sizzling sensation through my blood.Â
With the cold that had plagued me so these last few days, I began to fever. My lips parted as if I was suddenly short of breath, and I felt a curious pulse that drifted between my thighs. My whole body, like to an unseen force, drew closer to him, and he tensed beneath his leathers. His frame vibrated with desperate restraint, the fire in his eyes warring between duty and sacrifice.Â
âI am a man of honor,â he groaned. My stomach tightened as his hands inched up my neck and traced the line of my jaw, his coarse thumb brushing across my lips.Â
Something tugged on my stomach from the inside as the fiery heat of his fingers burned through my skin. My breaths came out ragged and shallow while he remained silent, as though he was immersed in concentration.Â
Without knowing the full implication of my words, I whispered, âDishonor me.â
For the storm, only just contained, raged wild in his eyes, a low growl sounded from deep in his chest before he crashed his lips to mine.Â
I received them with a low, beckoning gasp. My palms came up to his neck, my nails running the length of it as he explored my lips, the roof of my mouth, my teeth, and under my tongue. Then his lips traced my jaw, finding my ear, breathed his warm air into it, nibbled my lobe, then covered my throat in wet kisses. I tilted my head to grant him access, as low, sensual mewlings poured from my lips, something carnal infiltrating my veins.
His hands came down to my waist, and I gasped in surprise when he lifted me and placed me in his lap, my legs latching around his back.Â
He was so big and warm and hard. His eyes were lazy and dark as his fingers began to lightly trace down the side of my neck, then hooking into my dress to bare my shoulder. He kissed it with an open mouth and moving tongue, and I quivered beneath his touch. Then, with a sharp sound of a tear, he had pulled my dress all the way down my abdomen.Â
He groaned at the sight of me, his lips slightly parted, his hands delicately cupping my breasts as if heâd found treasure. When the cold made me shiver, he leaned into me to lend me his warmth, while his lips tantalized me, drawing close to my hardened nipple, blowing it with hot air, then backing off, kissing across my breastbone to the other, until I forced his mouth to it.
He hummed with throaty satisfaction, latching onto it and giving it one slow suck, grazing the skin with his teeth. I threw my head back with a gasp. White heat shot like lightning between my thighs, before pulsing into an empty ache. I swayed into him, bucking my hips into his groin, feeling him harden beneath me. He suckled my other breast in warm, slow pulses, circling the areola, drawing panting moans out of me, before he found my lips again.Â
Gathering my skirts, he moved his hands underneath them, gripping the fullness of my thighs, kneading them, squeezing them, to the point it pinched me, and I bit his bottom lip in protest.Â
Cregan Stark was a gentle giant in all matters but things salacious.Â
A throaty sigh escaped his lips as his hands found my buttocks, kneading the flesh between his fingers. Hot, slick tingles pooled between my thighs, and my fingers curled in his hair. My body hummed in anticipation as his finger slid downward, a groan pouring out of me as he grazed over my wet opening.Â
âOh, Princess.â The words were like magic on his lips, shooting through my core in throbbing pulses.Â
His other arm snaked around my waist, locking me to his body as he explored and moistened my folds, leaving me a bucking, moaning mess in his lap.Â
I felt empty and sickly. A fog had infiltrated my vision, my skin, my mind, my inhibitions. I coveted him. I needed him, more than I needed anything else. His eyes alone could touch inside of me, but I could not explain the pulsing, throbbing, delirious effects of his hands, his mouth, his tongue, and I ached for more. I felt unfinished, incomplete.Â
Until he slid a finger deep inside me, and I gasped. Hot, sweet pressure filled me, and once I adjusted, he introduced another, threatening to overfill as he fingered me.Â
Fast and then lazy.Â
Over and over.Â
The room filled with wet squelching noises and my moaning squeals. His deeper, throatier moans vibrated through his chest and lit me on fire, burning in my lower stomach, blazing, desperate for feed, or I would disintegrate.Â
My nails dug desperately into his shoulders, as any attempts of filling myself up to completion were in vain by the power of his grip around my waist. He trailed every inch of my neck, kissing it as it if were my mouth, with lips, tongue, and teeth. His fingers penetrated deep and curled inside of me, rubbing something within that sent pressure bursting into tingles and flames, my veins burning up like dragon fire, and stars sparkling behind my eyelids. I cried out with the purest ecstasy as my body shuddered and clenched around his fingers, and he groaned against my skin with dark satisfaction as I clung to him desperately.
Once my trembles ceased and I managed to catch my breath, he took my cheeks in his hand and kissed me fiercely, passionately, his fires still boiling for release.
âI am coming with you,â he declared.
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#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark x you#cregan stark#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#cregan x reader#cregan x you#cregan x y/n#cregan x female reader#cregan stark x female reader#cregan stark smut#hotd cregan#cregan smut#cregan fanfiction#cregan stark imagine#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fanfiction#cregan fanfic
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REDAMANCY.
Cregan Stark x female Targaryen!Reader (Part 4 here)
From the very beginning on youâve been hesitant to accept your younger brotherâs offer to return to the capital for your child to receive his blessings. And when youâre finally on the way, itâs your husbandâs duty to take care of you.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, lactation kink, lactating, pregnant sex, pregnancy, slight breeding kink, praise kink, slight degrading, angst, fluff
WORDS: 3.3 K
NOTES: Redamancy means A love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you, and let me tell you: these two are in love. Thanks to @sylasthegrim, itâs always good to know you help me with my zero grasp on English!
âď¸ đđđ đ˛đ¨đŽđŤđŹđđĽđ đđ¨ đŚđ˛ đđđ đĽđ˘đŹđ!
Ravens from Winterfell flying all the way down to Kingâs Landing has always taken quite some time. And therefore it was no wonder you were surprised that one of your younger brotherâs ravens reached the castle not long after you'd informed him you were with child, inviting you to birth it in the Red Keep for it to receive the young kingâs blessings.
Being the ever dutiful Lord of House Stark, there was no way your husband would refuse the offer, and once your pregnancy had crossed the seventh moon mark, a carriage and your husbandâs entourage were sent south.
From the very beginning on youâve been hesitant to accept the offer. Westerosâ capital has brought nothing but pain and grief to you, and youâre afraid coming back ruins the comfort and peace youâve found far, far away from the castle in the North, in Winterfell. But a part of you misses and longs for your siblings and the part of your family thatâs still left, hence it didnât take too much convincing from your husband.
Youâve lost count of the days you spent in that damned carriage by now, solely accompanied by your maids as your dear husband rides at the front of his entourage, joining his men on horseback. But thereâs one thing all days have in common: itâs you being exhausted beyond relief once night comes.
For the longest time you thought your unborn babe to be no-fussy and calm, which proved to be false just one week into the travel. Itâs restless, kicking and moving especially when you finally find rest in the bed of the receptive inn you stay in for the night. Your feet are swollen, just like your breasts, and your body provides milk as though the babe has been long born already, and all you crave at this point is for the pregnancy to be over already.
As the wheelhouse comes to a stop, you rub your swollen bump with a sigh, looking toward the door with heavy footsteps approaching. Your beloved husband opens the door, and even though he wonât admit it, he looks just as exhausted as you do.
âIs it time?â you ask, slowly rising to your feet with another sigh. You place your small hand in his large one, allowing him to help you out.
He nods, bringing a hand to the small of your back. âIndeed. We have reached the crossroads. From here we are only ten days away from Kingâs Landing, which means the end of our journey is in sight,â he replies. âHow are you and our son feeling?â
Cregan guides you away from the wheelhouse, escorting you through the crowd of his men towards a large inn sitting right where the river road crosses the kingsroad. And from old tales of your uncle you know it has to be the Bellringer Inn, a place where even your great-grandfather and great-grandmother have stayed at before.
âWe do not yet know if this babe will be a boy or a girl, husband,â you chastise him in a teasing manner.
âYou are right, we do not,â he says. âBut I feel it in my bones. Just call it a fatherâs intuition.â
You roll your eyes at his words and nudge his ribs with your elbow, yet there also pulls a smile at the corners of your lips. He chuckles at that. âCareful, my love, I am not as nimble as I used to be.â
Shaking your head, you giggle softly. âDo not tell me that you are an old man now, Lord Stark.â
As you make your way through the courtyard and towards the inn, you can feel the curious glances of the passerby; a man of Creganâs caliber always drew the attention toward him, just like your hair did. But youâre unbothered by it all. You carry a piece of your husband within you, and that thought fills you with a sense of fulfillment and pride.
He looks for the innkeeper as you reach for his hand, pulling it from your back around your frame, squeezing it softly. âMight you join me tonight? I know that you can not leave your men alone, but one night will surely do no harm. I must admit that I have hardly found sleep without your warmth for the past weeks.â
With a gentle, intimate gesture, Cregan brushes his fingers over your swollen bump, before pulling you against his side. âHow can I ever be expected to refuse anything my beautiful wife asks of me? Of course I will join you tonight.â Leaning a bit closer toward you, he adds with a quiet whisper: âYour presence has been missed in my bed as well. The nights feel cold and lonely without you by my side.â
Heat crawls onto your cheeks at the proximity and the slight implication that comes with his words, solely interrupted when a stout man with a bushy beard but otherwise pleasant demeanor walks around the corner and welcomes you two.
Upon Creganâs inquiry about the availability of a room, he hands over the keys and leads you toward your place of retreat for the night. More than once have you told Cregan youâre perfectly fine with sleeping in a tent with him, yet he always came back to your delicate condition, stating he only wants the best for you and his unborn child, and you eventually have given up and accepted it.
The room is decent. Not as big as your chambers at home, but still larger than what youâve slept in for the last few weeks. Your maids already scurry into the room to bring some of your belongings and clothes to get you ready for the night, while Cregan leans in to kiss your temple. âLet me arrange for my man to sleep outside the inn for the night,â he mutters against your skin. âAnd then we shall spend the night in warm beds.â
Even with your maids bustling around you, you canât help but feel a flicker of excitement at his words. The prospect of sharing the night with him is enough to make you forget the soreness of your swollen curves that has become a constant companion over the past few moons.
âI will freshen up in the meantime,â you say, leaning into his touch before he pulls away to take care of his menâs sleeping arrangements for the night. Once everything was adjusted in the chambers, your maids moved to help you out of your clothes, but you refused them, having planned something very special.
Standing in front of the small window, overlooking a stable with a thatch roof and a bell tower, you all but admire how quietly Cregan opens the door, and with the lock falling right into place behind him, the room grows even quieter and the atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation.
âIs everything sorted?â you ask, looking at him from over your shoulder.
âAll set,â your husband replies with a low voice as he approaches you.
He comes to tower over your frame from behind, moving his hands over your hips up to your waist. Lifting your head, your eyes lock with his. âAlone at last, hm?â Thereâs a sultry smile on your lips now, and you gently reach behind you to cup his cheek with one hand. âNow youâre all mine for the night.â
You lean against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths against your back. Cregan seizes the opportunity and brushes your hair over one shoulder before he presses his lips to the crook of your neck. The touch makes you sigh, stirring something inside of you you have had to keep at bay for quite some time. When he brings his large hands to your swollen breasts, fondling them through the thick fabric of your dress, you canât help but moan, the slight squeezing aiding against the heaviness.
But then his hands and lips leave your body, and he slightly leans around you to look at you â or rather your breasts â and you immediately know the reason why.
The gray fabric has become damp under his touch, two dark spots prominent in the front of it. While it brings a bit of shame to your cheeks, the low rumble that escapes his chest sends a fire straight down between your legs. âI should have warned you I started leaking a fortnight ago,â you admit ashamedly, biting your bottom lip.
âI quite enjoy the sight of it, you know,â he says, voice laced with a combination of awe, adoration and burning need. His hands shift to the lace in the back of your dress. âBut let us put this to good use.â
The dress comes undone with ease, falling to the floor in a puddle around your feet. Damp spots are decorating your smallclothes, but this time you donât mind the sight. Creganâs hands now roam over your body, tracing the curve of your waist and your growing bump.
Although you know exactly what it is his words are meant to imply, you choose to tease him. âAnd what is it you have in mind right now, hm?â
His gray eyes briefly flicker to the bed close to you, before meeting yours again. âI have a few things in mind. But for nowâŚâ He cups your chin, tilting your head up so he can claim your lips in a slow, deep kiss thatâs full of desire and passion. It makes you feel as though the air is sucked right out of your lungs by him, as if you canât survive without his lips on yours. âHow about we make the most of this night, my love?â
âIâm all yours,â you breathe against his lips.
His large hands roam your curves, helping you out of your undergarments, until they settle at your thighs, wrapping around them to effortlessly hoist you up. Although Cregan is quite the bull of a man and appears to be a brute, he possesses a tenderness you wouldnât expect from him, gently keeping your body against his and lying you down on the bed not far away just as carefully.
Soft, gentle kisses are pressed to your collarbones, igniting a fire within you that has been smoldering for too long. As his fingers glide over your skin with featherlight touches, leaving a burning trail behind, he finds his hands drawn to your full breasts, cupping and holding them, and eventually squeezing them.
More droplets of your milk trickle into his calloused palms, wetting his skin, but he does not careânot when he has you writhing and whimpering beneath him at just the faintest of touches.
Your husbandâs eagerness would have almost made you chuckle, watching him rise from the bed to rid himself off his clothes hastily, if it wouldnât match your own desire and greediness. With his breeches falling to the ground, his cock stands to full attention, hard enough for it to almost seem painful.
His hungry gazes devours your bare form, tall frame slightly hunched forwards as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
âWill you just stand there and watch, my wolf?â you tease, propping yourself up on your elbows. âWhat happened to âlet us put this to good useâ?â
Itâs the teasing lilt in your voice that pulls him out of his stupor like a wave, the chuckle he releases low and throaty. âYou are a temptress, my love,â he replies. âYou are lucky I am a man of my word.â
âThen touch me,â you whine, words coming out more desperate than actually intended.
He doesnât need any more encouragement. Slowly approaching the bed, Cregan bows forwards and grabs one of your feet. He lifts your leg and starts to trail sloppy, open mouthed kisses along the inside of your leg, occasionally nibbling on the skin of your inner thigh.
Your back slightly arches off the mattress, body thrumming with desire. Entangling your hands in his dark curls, you use the grip as reigns to where you want him most, but your husband acts completely unfazed, not allowing you to tug him higher up.
He takes his time, kissing and nibbling your thighs, before he boldly presses a kiss to the apex of your legs, tongue briefly dragging through your folds. It elicits a shudder in its wake, and you canât stifle a moan.
Making his way up, he licks your navel, and eventually traces the curve of your full breast, circling your hardened bud. Cregan laps up every drop of milk that oozes out of your bud like nothing else than a starved wolf, the edge of his teeth applying just a faint pressure to the sensitive skin to stimulate the flow.
But when his other hand comes up to fondle and squeeze your other breast, thatâs the moment you lose your composure, shamelessly smothering him with your breasts. âGods, CreganâŚâ you whimper, immediately bringing you relief. There isnât even time to waste a thought about the indecency of it all, not when it feels just so right.
Itâs your mewls, your whispered whines and moans, the sound of you saying his name in such a desperate manner that drives him to continue. âYou make me ache for you,â he rasps against your skin, voice thick with desire. Your husband never falters to ignite a fire inside of you with his words, especially when thereâs an innuendo hidden between his praises.
Bringing his hand from your breast down between your bodies, he aligns himself with you, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds in a way that makes you bite back a moan and grind against him. You grip his dark curls harshly as he finally eases inside, pushing into you inch by inch, agonizingly slow to make sure you feel him enter you.
His suckling falters with the tightness of your walls embracing him, overwhelmed by pure bliss and a feeling heâs missed for the past few weeks.
Every gasp and whine that escapes you only serves to embolden him further, continuing to tease and taste your breast with unrivaled enthusiasm. It juxtaposes the slow, sloppy thrusts of his hips, and brings you two different kinds of sensations at once.
Cregan has made himself home between your legs, rocking his hips leisurely back and forth. He has dropped his weight on one elbow and leant his upper body to the side, determined to not put any weight on your swollen bump. His lips are firmly wrapped around your bud while his hand teases the other, pinching and squeezing it between his fingers. The proximity is unmatchable, feeding into your constant desire to be as close to him as possible.
You can practically watch him lose every ounce of self control, his suckling becoming more intense and the thrusts growing in determination. His groans and grunts are muffled, and droplets of your milk trickle idly down his chin, getting lost in the dark, coarse hairs.
You fully expect him to say something when he releases your bud, but heâs far too eager to get his fill again. Pinching the perky bud of your other breast harshly, droplets of milk run down the curve of it, only to be traced by his tongue, liking a flat stripe over your skin. He chokes on a groan as the sight has you clenching tightly around his hard cock.
âPleaseâ do not stop,â you whimper, applying a bit of pressure to his head to urge him towards your breast again. â... not yet.â
Dark-blown eyes suddenly flicker up to meet yours, and a shuddered breath leaves your lips. âMy my, what a greedy wench I have for a wife,â he chuckles to himself. You donât take offense, but the statement does make you duck your head and bite your bottom lip sheepishly. âI do not intend to.â
Despite the teasing, itâs obvious your pleas fall upon eager ears as he heeds your command and closes his lips around your bud again. Every hungry pull of his lips draws more and more milk from you, and while relief makes itself known in your breasts, a different kind of pressure starts to settle in the pit of your belly.
Squeezing him so well, you make it impossible for Cregan to move on his own accord, and quickly take over, rolling your hips against his. Itâs a race for completion, making your pearl throb with anticipation.
The coarse hairs of your husbandâs beard drag over your sensitive skin with his eager suckling, tickling you and causing you to arch against him even more. You have your arms wrapped around his neck at this point, keeping him tightly against you.
A string of yesses falls past your lips like a chant, and the pace of your hips increases as far as your bump allows you to. Your mind grows hazy with pleasure, until your peak washes over you with a loud gasp.
You havenât noticed Cregan watching you through it all, too focused on the sensations coursing through your body. His gaze is mesmerized, clearly relishing in the relief thatâs etched onto your features and the way your walls flutter around his cock.
He pulls back, droplets of milk resting in the corners of his lips, and lifts his body to tower over you. The thrusting of his hips grows sharper now, determined to help you through your pleasure.
âThatâs it,â he rasps, one hand resting on the mattress next to your head while the other gropes at your now relieved breasts.
âOnce this pup is born,â he emphasized the words by rolling your sore bud between his index finger and thumb, drawing out just a few more droplets of milk. âI shall put another in you to keep you round with my seed.â
Your head grows dizzy, lightheaded even, and you canât do more than whimper and whine through your peak, not fully comprehending what heâs said.
Cregan snaps his hips into yours once, twice before he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of you. Cupping your breast, his fingers dig harshly into your flesh.
You continue to roll your hips against his, prolonging his pleasure. Switching roles, itâs now your turn to milk him for every drop, taking everything his cock spills inside of you. Every muscle in his body tenses, until eventually, he collapses to the side, careful not to put his weight on your swollen bump.
With his cock slowly becoming flaccid again, the sensation of his seed leaking out of your cunt is more apparent, causing heat to spread throughout your body. If it wasnât for you carrying his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit.
Cregan eventually lies down on his back, and you seize the chance to rest your head on his chest. Itâs hard to keep your eyes open as his hand softly entangles into your hair, scratching your scalp in the manner that usually lulls you to sleep. His breath is slower now, his chest rising and lowering your head.
âI can not bear to spend another night without you by my side,â you all but whisper, bringing a hand to his stomach.
Your finger trails the contours of his muscles, before following the dark trail of coarse hairs down.
âYou neednât worry about that,â he says. âWe shall not stay in Kingâs Landing for too long. And I highly doubt that anyone could get me out of your chambers during the time we stay there. Once we arrive, we shall stay together.â
Nodding your head slowly, you hum a âmh-mhâ, too engrossed in the feeling of his hand in your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles over your back. Having trouble staying awake, youâre hardly able to process his next words, already drifting off to sleep.
âLet us sleep now, my love. We have another tiresome day ahead of us.â
Cregan Taglist: @nats-whore @aemondsbabe
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Direwolf.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: Cregan's direwolf is spoiled by the reader.
A/n: Based on ask! Also I'm running a fever, so I'm praying this makes sense
Masterlist
.....................................
"Perhaps it was an idiotic thought from the start," Cregan mutters as he views the sight before him.Â
His sweet wife sat on the ground of the dining hall, lavishing their dire wolf in affection.Â
Well, Cregan's direwolf.
Well, it was supposed to be Cregan's.Â
He had found the wolf not long before he became the Lord of Winterfell. Now, after almost seven years with the animal, their bond was inseparable.Â
So when Cregan's wife joined the mix, Cregan was nervous.
But she had a love for Dark Night, as did the large beast for her.Â
"I find it sweet," the Maester said with a light smile. "It is important the two get along, isn't it? Better than fighting for your attention, I'd wager."
"That's the thing," Cregan sighed. "Neither of them needs my attention. They're content on their own."
The maester chuckled, looking at the sight of the woman and wolf before excusing himself.
Cregan walked to the pair, holding his hand out to his wife. "C'mon, sweet girl."
Y/n looked up with a smile and took his hand, brushing off dust from her skirt as she did so.Â
Dark Night let out a low coo, sitting up and nuzzling at her thigh.
"Seems I'll have to fight for even a moment with you," Cregan smiled as he tucked his face into her neck.
She let out a soft giggle. "Don't be so upset, Cregan. You know you always have my heart."
He chuckled with her, pulling away and leading her to the dining table, pulling out her chair before sitting across from her.Â
The two talked of mundane things as usual: their day, the problems of the North, ideas they had, anything and everything.Â
Finally, Cregan tilted his head with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing?"
She looked at him with wide eyes, as if caught in a horrid lie. "NâŚnothing."
He simply stared, his hands resting atop the table. "Are you feeding Dark Night under the table?"
She reaches to pick something off of her plate, lowering it below the table. "No?"
He leaned back in his chair with an incredulous look and a chuckle, "You little minx. He eats enough, you know that."
"Well, yes, but," she gave a shrug. "He just looks at me so pitifully, I cannot say no."
She reached up to grab more, but Cregan stopped her, "Don't."
She paused, "Cregan-"
"-Do not spoil that damn dog. He is fine."
Before long, Dark Night's large head weighed down on Cregan's lap from under the table, a longing look in the animal's eyes.Â
Cregan looked down at him with a tight lip and a shaking head, "Your methods may work on our sweet girl, but you will get nothing from me."
The wolf nuzzled in more, trying to get Cregan's attention still.Â
Finally, Cregan waved his hand out at the wolf, "Get. Go on. You have already been fed today."
Dark Night accepted the defeat and left the dining hall, an obvious annoyance in the way he walked.Â
"Now," Cregan sighed. "Let us try to speak again."
âŚ
A few hours later, Cregan entered their chambers in pure exhaustion.Â
The day had been longer than he had hoped, and he wanted nothing more than time with his wife.
Seeing her curled up on the sofa next to the fireplace warmed something inside of him.Â
He came from behind, leaning down to place a kiss on the crown of her head.Â
She hummed, looking up from her book. "Hello, lovely."
A small whine sounded in the room.
Cregan's brow furrowed as he scanned the room for his wolf.Â
"Why is he on the bed?"
She leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to see that the wolf had indeed found a comfortable place on their bed. She shrugged, "He was there when I got here. I didn't have the heart to move him."
Cregan gripped her shoulders from behind, gently massaging them. "I've had this wolf years, and never has he even been allowed the notion that being upon the bed was allowed."
She smiled as she looked over her shoulder at Cregan this time, "He's been so wonderful today. Let him stay."
He leaned down to her ear, a teasing smile across his face, "Why should I?"
She let out a hum. "Please, Cregan."
"Please what?" He teased.
Her head leaned back against the back of the sofa, "You know what you're doing, Lord Stark."
He smirked, leaning up and moving to the bed, "Up."
Dark Night lifted his head to look at Cregan.
Y/n immediately gets off of the couch, "Cregan."
"I mean it," he complains. "That dog cannot run this castle."Â
"He's not," she comes as she moved to Dark Night, petting his fur.
"My love, he-" Cregan froze completely, eyeing the dog. "A collar? You've bought him a collar?"
She smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps."
Cregan crosses his arms, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as he bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "Gods, you're gonna be the death of me."
"He's being so sweet, Cregan. Look at him!"
Cregan looked down, seeing his sweet wife practically laying on the large animal.
He shook his head, a large smile coming across his face. "As long as there is still room for your husband."
"Oh, always, Cregan."
âŚ
Cregan woke up in the night, pulling at the blanket that would not move. He leaned up on his elbows, seeing the giant dire wolf that laid on his wife's feet, holding the blanket down underneath him.Â
Cregan heaved a great sigh, but inside, he really didn't mind.
He was glad the two greatest things in his life cared for each other. It made his occasional absence to the Wall less guilt wracked.Â
He knew they'd keep each other warm until he came back.
.....................................
Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath, @yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver
#fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones imagine#cregan stark x y/n#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#cregan stark imagine#cregan x reader#cregan stark#cregan stark fanfic#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd fanfic
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