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claymoresword · 1 year ago

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You Make A Mess Of Me

Daenerys Targaryen x Missandei

Summary: An alternate universe where Daenerys Targaryen is Queen of The Seven Kingdoms and Missandei of Naath is her Queen Consort.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Warnings: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, just filth, alpha daenerys, omega missandei, you know how i love my crackships

Note: i really have no explanation for this literally wrote it in 20 mins but they deserved so much better in show canon which is why i have not stopped thinking about them since!

"My dragon Queen, come back to bed." Missandei practically whines as she begrudgingly watches Daenerys get dressed for the day.

The alpha hums in acknowledgement, but ultimately does not comply, her back still towards Missandei as she fixes her breastplate.

"Later, perhaps." She responded simply, but the omega was not satisfied.

She comes up behind the silver haired woman, with only a sheet covering her frame.

Missandei wraps an arm around the Queen, stilling her movements, as she rests her front against Dany's back.

"You smell of dragon." Missandei quips.

"You flatter me, my love." Daenerys responds, a smirk playing on her lips.

Missandei doesn't respond, instead she tilts her head, tracing open mouthed kisses up the Queen's neck.

Almost instinctively, Daenerys leans back with a contented sigh, allowing the other woman further access.

The curly haired woman lets go of her grip on Dany's hand so she may reach down. With a single bold move, she eagerly palms the alpha's bulge over her slacks.

Daenerys lets out a low groan of approval as her lover continues massaging her cock over its confines; in a few short moments Missandei feels it harden underneath her touch.

"You have gotten very bold these past few moons, my love." The Queen states, and her tone only works to further excite her wife.

Dany finally turns around to look at the omega and Missandei languidly lets go of the sheet that was covering herself, deliberately leaving her naked body exposed.

Upon seeing this, something in the Targaryen snaps, her gaze darkens as she crashes her lips against Missandei's.

The curly haired woman reciprocates with as much despair and need.

Her fingers getting lost in silver locks, tugging and pulling. The kiss is open mouthed and messy, Daenerys greedily inhales every breath her omega exhales. The Queen soon guides the other woman further back onto the bed, prompting her wife to lay her head on the pillow.

Missandei introduces her tongue mid kiss and the Queen takes the opportunity to capture it in between her lips, sucking it on it harshly. She doesn't pull away until her wife is gasping for air.

Dany finally retreats so she may begin taking off her clothes, Missandei watches as she hastily removes her breastplate, along with her doublet and breeches. Finally she takes off her small clothes, and her cock is finally released, Missandei immediately takes notice of its erect state, thick and heavy.

The curly haired woman parts her legs instinctively; licking her lips as she observes Daenerys stroking her length, her steely gaze does not falter, only growing darker by the second.

"What have I told you about touching me without my consent?" The alpha's tone betrays no notion of a jest, but her lover decides to push her luck anyway.

"That I should do it?" Missandei responds cheekily.

Dany's expression merely hardens at her wife's audacity, and Missandei's entire body hums in anticipation.

"I think you deserve a punishment– for disobeying your Queen." Daenerys states, bending down to retrieve something off the floor.

Missandei only recognises what the alpha had in her hand as she climbed onto the bed.

The curly haired woman attempts to capture the Queen's lips with her own but she is distracted as she feels cold metal against her skin, followed by smooth leather wrapping around her wrist.

Dany tugs on the belt and Missandei's arm is lifted up until it reaches the bedpost.

It was then the omega finally let herself acknowledge what was happening; she was being restrained to the bed.

Dany wordlessly does the same to her wife's other arm. Once she was satisfied, she leaned down to kiss her, it's a hefty kiss that leaves Missandei wanting more, but the new restraints prevent her from attempting to chase the alpha's lips.

She whines in clear protest, and Daenerys only smiles.

"I am going to make you regret disobeying me, my sweet omega– so that you will never do it again." The Targaryen says, placing a chaste kiss on the other woman's cheek.

Missandei does not know what her wife intends to do for certain, but she is partially sure that it will do nothing beyond urge her to further act against the Queen's wishes.

Although, she does not admit this, instead the omega bites her lip, suppressing a look of exhilaration.

Dany soon begins licking her way up Missandei's body; her thighs, her navel, her neck.

Her wife finally reaches the familiar spot on her neck; her mating mark, she deliberately bites down, nearly breaking skin, and Missandei lets out a hiss at the sensation.

The pain only causes a thrill of arousal down her body, straight to her core.

Missandei tugs on the restraints again.

"Please– touch me–" The Queen consort pleads, embarrassed at just how needy she sounded.

"I am touching you." Dany casually states as fact, gently swiping her tongue across one of her nipples, and her wife's moan was involuntary.

"Daenerys.." Missandei groans, swiftly earning a harsh pinch on the same nipple.

It makes the omega yelp in pain, but the pleasure she feels immediately after overpowers it.

"Stop teasing me– please– Your Grace." Missandei whines, she was already dripping for her alpha, certain at this point, her arousal has already soaked the mattress underneath.

"You've been very bad, Missandei." Daenerys quips as she continues to nip at her wife's sensitive skin.

"Why should I give you anything you ask for?" She adds, licking her way down the omega's thighs, reveling at the feeling of her wife's goosebumps forming on her tongue.

"Because you love me." Missandei replies simply and the alpha stills.

The look her wife is giving her is unfamiliar, perhaps it was due to her current state of arousal and inability to think of much else, but Missandei cannot decipher it.

Is it fury? Desire?

The omega doesn't get the chance to ponder a moment longer, as her wife settles quickly herself on top of her, Dany holds herself up by her forearms as she lines up the tip of her cock to the other woman's entrance.

With one rash movement of her hips, Daenerys is fully sheathed inside of her wife's cunt.

Missandei half screams and moans at the sensation; it is deep relief, pain and pleasure.

She tugs at the restraints again, a reflexive urge to pull her alpha closer.

"Is this what you wanted?" Dany growls, her thrusts continue to be purposeful and rough, her thick cock stretching the omega's cunt deliciously, hitting every spot within her, leaving her lightheaded and gasping.

"Yes.. yes.." Missandei manages through her moans, she wraps her legs around the alpha's waist, an attempt to hold her as close as she can.

"You drive me mad, did you know that?" Dany grunts, punctuating her words with every thrust.

A compliment or an insult, Missandei could not say for sure, but still, she nods her head vigorously in response, her eyes shut tightly.

Daenerys places her open mouth over the mating mark once again, this time allowing her warm tongue to soothe the earlier bite.

Missandei mewls as she feels a familiar tightening in the pit of her stomach, her release fast approaching; the alpha is not far behind as she deepens her strokes.

With a few deep thrusts the omega finally comes undone around the other woman's cock, her wife following swiftly behind her, releasing thick spurts of her seed deep inside her wife's wanting cunt.

"Seven Hells." Daenerys cursed, breathless and disoriented, as she continued the movement of her hips, riding out her peak.

Her wife remained trembling underneath her, gone totally slack, yet content as she felt the aftershocks of her orgasm.

The Queen finally musters the strength to reach up, releasing her wife's arms from the restraints.

Once freed Missandei's hands immediately move to her wife's back and neck, pulling her in for a deep, lingering kiss.

"I love you." Daenerys whispers against her wife's lips as they parted.

Missandei rubs her nose against the alpha's affectionately before answering.

"I love you too." She says, and the smile that appears on Dany's face is instantaneous.

"Well you have succeeded in making me stay, I am afraid I will not be able to move for the next few candle marks." She adds, not making an effort to pull out of her wife, only laying her head against her shoulder.

Missandei grins at that.

"Good. Stay forever." She replies.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #missandei #missandei of naath #g!p #crackship #daenerys targaryen smut

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wyvernest · 4 months ago

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cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous part - next part - first part | all chapters list

>>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North.

chapter cw: sex in the hot springs, so smut, fluff, piv, two positions?, a bit of chasing as primal play, breeding kink

His thick arms hold you with undeniable ardour. The steam fuming from the waters in misty ribbons do little to clear your head, as your lord husband peppers the sensitive skin below your ear with kisses full of want.

One of your legs curls up around his own, as if on instinct; a seemingly romantic yet primal instinct of silently allowing him to have you. Your breathing only deepens when you feel the coarse hair on his leg, as if the embrace did not already bring your bare breasts against him, and every patch of your shivery skin under his touch.

Even with the clear ripples of the water, you sense something against your hip, and the breath leaving your lungs gets caught on a moan on its way out.

“My dear wife.” He mumbles with sincere infatuation, as your hands escape his hold and run down his massive shoulders.

“Wasn’t I to be less easy, Lord Stark?” You tease, with barely half a breathy voice, and he visibly tenses in pride at the name.

He stops, and when he moves his head away from your neck to look at you, you nearly regret even speaking as the reminiscence of his heated touch burns needily above your clavicle.

“You are anything but.” His tone is low and intimate, and it has your insides twisting and turning in anticipation. You wanted to have him fight for it, as late as it was. Though you are now unsure of how much longer you could bear it yourself. “Did you have a change of heart?”

“No.” Your answer shoots out fast, contrary to your desire to play a different game. “I only wish to relish this for longer.”

The slight twitch of his features when you clarify your intentions strikes a lighting into your already boiling blood; the twitch of a wolf whose prey evaded his swiftest attack. He knows she can’t run forever, but the hunt weaves frustration and eagerness on his face nonetheless. He accepts and loosens his possessive hold, though his eyes betray his thoughts.

A hunger so profound and restless darkens his gaze, and you almost want him to have refused your little diversion. To have taken you however he pleased, tell you that you’ll be the most perfect mother for his pups and show you what it truly meant to belong to a northerner.

But alas, you drift away into the crystalline pond, and even the smouldering waters feel colder without his skin on yours.

Your giggle bounces off the cave walls with an echo so sweet to his ears that you thought for a moment he may pounce on you and end the wait. But he remained restrained, slowly following you further behind stalagmites.

Luring him further deep into the springs, you twist and turn in the rippling waters from moment to moment just to gaze at him, just to see more and more of him; the way he carefully got up to freeze the image of you swimming naked in his mind. You watch the droplets run down his stomach, the shine of the dimly lit cave mirrored in his irises.

“You have such beautiful eyes, lover.”

“Lover.” He retorts, his tone almost a threat. “Nigh yours they’re naught but stones beneath frostfires.”

You blush at the deftness of his compliment.

“Though winter blooms only ever endure if they grow in the shadow of stout stones. There is more beauty in living to defend than in living to survive.” You declare, still backing away, intimidated but enticed by his stalking pace approaching you.

He smiles, distracted by your cleverness.

“We must be perfect for eachother then.”

He leaps with no warning, wanting to entrap you back in his arms. You avoid his swift hands only with the merit of water slowing him down. As he catches his balance, you push yourself onto your elbows on the edge of the pond, coming to raise to your feet in front of him.

It is the first time he truly sees you, no turned back, no waves or foam to veil you. His eyes rake across your body shamelessly, a reminder of how you’re his. The air, however steamy, hits you with the slightest cold gust, and your skin prickles with goosebumps, nipples hardening as your skin weeps with a sheer shroud of damp varnish; a statue of beauty and desire.

You ought to feel at the very least timid under his hungry gaze, but you don’t. You feel wanted, adored by his expression alone, and near want and adoration there is no place for coyness. You feel precious and pure, so that you offer yourself to him, allow him to touch you for he has earned it.

The sense of great importance yet dissolves quickly as he, too, rises from the waters, seemingly reaching for his prize. You don’t wait to see him entirely because if you did, you would have seen him at the cost of your freedom.

With a leap and a giddy scream, you sprint through the cave to evade him. Your heart thumps too fast for you to even have the courage to look behind, though you hear the water splashing violently in your wake. You decide to dive back into the pond and hide into a crevice.

You can only hear your rash breathing as you search around the rocky shores for him.

Suvion’s back horns twitch in his sleep, slightly disturbed by your raucous play, but nonetheless calm.

Strong arms curl around your middle, not tight enough to hurt and not loose enough for you to fight back. With a yelp, you give in and settle back against his chest, turning your head just enough to see his face. His erection brushes up your thigh, and you lose all willingness to delay.

“A man can only be so strong.” He adjusts his hold, keeping one arm around you, moving your hair from your neck with his other hand, baring the skin above your shoulder. “- when his pretty lady wife gets all naked and wet and dances around him so happily just to drive him mad.��

You feel his hot breath over your pulse.

“Do you enjoy seeing my need get so dire, flower?”

“I do.”

“Then it seems I have awfully neglected my duties as husband. I might just have to remind you that you haven’t wed some craven southern lord who doesn’t have the guts to take what is his when he wants it.”

You arch back slowly, feeling him up. He places a firm hand on your shoulder and pushes you into a more manageable position, taking you by surprise. You try to brace yourself with your palms on any stone you could find, while his own hands ride down your back, stopping at your hips to grip the supple flesh of your arse.

A pleasured gasp fills your lungs as Cregan brings his hard cock to rub on your tender flower. He groans at the feeling, teasing you so close yet so far from pleasure.

As your own hips begin to move in sync with his, chasing the promised intrusion, one of his hands roams your belly, your waist, his warm, calloused palm setting your skin aflame in its wake. His fingers reach the underside of your right breast, and your breathing stops; as if you’re afraid any more movement might dismiss his touch.

“Cregan.”

His palm remains on your ribs, and your whole being silently begs for him to continue.

“Don’t fret, I’m not leaving your side, wife. This is for your own good.”

“I don’t --” Your protest is cut short as both his hands reach your breasts, fondling firmly.

Your body feels inexplicably light and soft in his arms as he lifts your torso back against his chest, his large, rough hands not once breaking away from your tits. You’re cornered, at his will.

His mouth finds your neck, licking and biting away as you resume his motions where he stopped, pushing your ass into his groin and asking him in the most primal ways to take you at once.

“I cannot wait to see you heavy with child.” He caresses your lower belly, and you feel his cock twitch between your thighs in excitement at the thought. “Do you want that, my love?”

“Of course I do - ” You confess with a trembling, quiet moan.

“Say it, then, wife.” He interrupts, clearly overrun with heat and desire.

“I want – ah” He kisses down your neck, one of his hands leaving your breasts to slide his fingers over the petals of your cunt. He hums approvingly, bringing the head of his cock to your core. You’re soaked in more ways than one. “ - I want your babes, please, Cregan, you- ”

You mewl as he pushes in, the water splashing right above your knees. Pleasure shifts into pain and pain into pleasure as he takes your maidenhood, mounting you with a bruising hold on your waist. He groans with you, his breathing laboured. At a particularly sharp sting, you whimper, making him stop to plant a kiss on your shoulder blade. You can’t move, you can’t think of anything but him, the scent of him, the sounds that escape straight from his throat, his warm hands on you.

An echo of his guttural groans makes you clench around him, making him halt right before he could bottom out. You feel him up in your guts, though his girth stings worst.

He pushes you forward again, a hand on your neck and another providing leverage on your hip. Giving a few well measured thrusts, he starts to properly move. Your back arched for him, thighs parting, your essence coating his cock like you were made to take his seed.

Your own moans spur him on as he quickly finds his pace, relentless and steady. His heavy balls slam against your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing your breaths out with every lunge of his hips into your behind.

“Fuck, I want to see you. Ugh, I want to-” He grunts, drawing his still hard cock out of your cunt with a pained curse, your own insides squeezing him on his way out.

You yelp as he picks you up the way he picked you up on the way back from the Weirwood tree on your wedding night, taking you out of the warm waters and walking over to his discarded furs on the cave floor.

The air is suddenly brisk on your damp skin, but your husband is quick to climb on top of you and shield you from the cold with his own body heat.

He gazes at you with such wonder and adoration in his eyes you, for a mere moment, swear you could faint from it all. When lust seeps back into his pupils you don’t fail to notice, his lips finding yours in a messy, wet kiss. You sigh into it to catch the breath you still haven’t found since he left you, he breaks it to groan as he grabs himself in his hand to re-enter you.

You both gasp, forehead to forehead as you meet again, his cock twitching as he once again pushes through your vestal resistance. When he begins to pound, you curl your legs around his hips and tangle your hands in his dark hair.

A sweet cacophony of conjoined sighs and groans reverberates into the cave walls, ever so slightly eclipsed by the waterfalls. With every thrust you start to climb towards your peak, and with every one of your “Cregan!”, “Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop!” he grows closer to his own.

Your own little death finds you as he presses his lips to the sensitive trails he’d found on your neck before biting down to muffle his own pleasure. He pushes in with a few final lunges, and you feel his cock pulsate and release his seed.

You suddenly grow insanely hot as you come down, though you don’t hesitate to snuggle at his side on the soft furs as he drops beside you panting and dragging your smaller frame with him.

“It took, lover.” You break the silence, speaking into his neck.

He turns to you, pleased and interested.

“I know it did.” You explain, smiling up at him. “I know it.”

“Even if it didn’t, we have plenty of time to try, flower.”

a/n if i missed tags sorry guys also will soon show u suvion<3

tags:

@ohsnapitzmarvelficrec @crypticlxrsh @louiselouve @karmaswitch @just-pure-trash @yujyujj @cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @ithilwen-blackwood @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner @wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips

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cassie48 · 4 months ago

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𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙩 2

Masterlist part one

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏs ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ x ғᴇᴍ!ᴛᴡɪɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏs ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ᴛᴡɪɴ sɪsᴛᴇʀ ᴀʀᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍᴀɴʏ ʙᴏᴏᴋs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʟɪɴᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ break

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs : ᴛᴡɪɴᴄᴇsᴛ, ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ, ᴋɪssɪɴɢ.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When your mother had tasked you and Jacaerys with researching about your bloodline, you were excited. You were eager to know more about your family.

However once you and your brother began the task it became more boring and frustrating than anything else. You had read through countless books, but you found no possible candidates.

Sighing, you turned the page of the book you were reading. This caught the attention of Jacaerys who looked at you with a questioning look on his face.

“Bored, sister?” He teased, knowing you were insanely bored. He was too. He offered to help you when your mother requested you do it. He didn’t want to leave you with the job alone.

You nodded, hugging as yet again nothing was of use from the book you read. You slammed it shut with frustration evident in your features.

Jacaerys smirked at your actions, closing his own book in a less dramatic way. You lay your head in your hands on the table, closing your eyes.

You only smiled again when you felt your twin brother place his hand on your thigh. You lifted your head up to look at him once more.

“There’s nothing in these books jace! It’s so..” you trailed off trying to find the right words for how you were feeling at this moment.

“Frustrating?” He said knowing the word you were looking for. You nodded sighing as you looked at him with tired eyes.

“Perhaps you just need a distraction for a while sister” Jacaerys smirked, moving slightly closer to you on the large bench you both sat on.

Sighing again and looking down at the table you said “And what do you recommend I do, brother?”

At your question Jacaerys smirked, placing his hands on either side of your waist “I could think of a few things” he said.

Before you could question him again he had lifted you up, sitting you down on the edge on the table, making you laugh at his actions.

“Brother, what are you up to?” You asked with a confused face as he only smirked at your words, shoving the bench out of the way.

Before you could say anything else, Jacaerys began to trail his hands up your skirt, pushing your dress out of the way.

Your eyes widened and your brows furred “Jace not here! Anyone could walk in!” You whisper-yelled at him.

This only egged him on further “Let them” he said, and with that he had finally made contact with his mouth on your bare pussy.

Your back arched, gripping either side of the table as your brother began lapping his tongue at your folds.

“Oh gods jace!” You yelled as he held your waist to keep you in place, his tongue continuing to devour your folds.

As you began moaning his name, it only made him quicken his movements, and your hand went to his head, gripping his dark curls with your hand as you cried his name.

“Feels so good” you moaned, struggling to get any words out at all as your brother pleased you. After a few more minutes of him eating you out, your grip on his head tightened, your body tensing up.

“That’s right, cum for me sweet sister” Jacaerys told you, grinning your hips tightly as you came on his mouth, a moaning mess.

Once you had calmed down from your orgasm, he pulled the bench back, sitting on it before pulling you back down to sit on his lap.

He smirked at your exhausted face, brushing some stray strands of hair out of your face. He kissed your lips, making you taste yourself.

He pulled back, and you lay your head on his shoulder.“Feeling a little less frustrated dear sister?”

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fantasydreamland · 7 months ago

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Lonely Nights

khaleesi x fem reader

Summary: You were her handmaiden in Pentos. You followed her and the khalasar when she married Khal Drogo. You have been by her side through all the heartbreak after he died. You all continue your travels and one lonely night Daenerys invites you to her tent for comfort.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!!! soft khaleesi, wlw, inspired by that doreah scene, smutttt, dry humping, fingering, oral (f&f), fluff fluff fluff, slight angst, some spoilers

word count: 1016

masterlist

“You called for me Khaleesi?” You say as you enter her tent late at night.

“(y/n), yes… I just cannot find sleep. Truthfully it has been difficult sleeping alone.” She says sadly, “An odd request to ask of you but- would you just lay with me?”

“Uh, yes, of course, Khaleesi.” You say a bit timid.

She moves to make room for you as you climb into her bed and lay beside her. She sighs, stuck in thought.

“If you want to talk with me Khaleesi, you know I am here to listen.” You gently say.

“I don’t know. I have just been feeling so dreadful after everything that has happened.” She confesses. “My nights have been restless.”

“Of course Khaleesi. You have been through so much of late. It is no wonder your mind won’t silence.” You say as you both slightly turn to face eachother.

“It has felt rather lonely…” she sighs. “You are truly the only person I feel I can trust (y/n)”

“I am glad to be the one who you can depend on.” You give a soft smile.

She smiles at your words and gazes into your eyes creating unknown tension between you. Her beauty was even more breathtaking up close like this.

You clear your throat to break the tension.

“Hmm,” she smiles turning her face. “I suppose I should try and get some rest.”

“Of course, Khaleesi. I will be right here.” You give a soft smile.

You both drift off to sleep until she gasps waking from a nightmare. You jolt awake.

“Are you alright Khaleesi?” you ask, concern in your voice.

“Yes. Yes. I-I’m fine.” She pants. “Just another dream.”

She turns to you and her startled face softens.

“It is nice to see your face when I wake though.” She lightly brushes hair from your face. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Of course, Khaleesi.” You almost whisper, lightly touching her arm.

She lightly touches your arm in response, giving you a grateful look. This leads to delicate appreciative touches on eachothers arms, hair, cheeks. The electricity between you becoming more intense. She holds your cheek for a moment, her soft doe eyes looking longingly into yours. You feel your heart stop. You watch her quickly glance to your lips and back to your eyes. You do the same, your stare lingering on her lips for a longer moment before meeting her gaze again.

She slightly shuffles closer to you, and you do the same, her hand still on your cheek and your eyes never parting. You both continue to slowly move closer to eachother until you’re merely a breath away.

Her eyes continue to gaze into yours, with a more heated look. The moment is unbearably slow as you inch your faces closer until you connect with the lightest kiss, lips barely touching. After parting you both look at eachother, eyes full of lust and excitement, before meeting your lips again. You moan as your tongues gently dance together, it slowly builds into a deeper more passionate kiss. She pulls your body closer against her and you move to straddle her, lips never parting. Her breath hitches as you begin to grind against her, she grabs your hips to aid your movements.

Your lips part as you sit up, rhythmically moving your body on her creating friction of pleasure. The new position adding more pressure. You both breathe heavily as you now move back and forth faster, harder, her fingers digging into your hips and yours into her legs behind you. She gazes up at you admiring all of your beautiful features. You do the same admiring her golden beauty below you.

As your heavy breaths turn into whimpers and moans her hands wander slowly up and down your body. You both let out a long final moan as fireworks explode within your bodies. The whole khalasar able to hear but neither of you could find care in that moment.

With heavy breaths your lustful eyes meet once again. You both break into a small smile and giggle until her eyes turn heated once more. You gasp as she quickly grabs you and flips you over, laying on top of you. You moan as she boldly kisses your lips hard before moving down your neck and chest. She moves below your shirt and kisses down your stomach as her hands push up your skirts. Without hesitation she moves her mouth onto your core drawing a loud whimper from your throat. Your hands nestle into her golden hair as her tongue expertly licks your bundle of nerves. She slowly slips in her fingers causing a long groan from you. She moans against you at the way you tighten around her. Her tongue hits the perfect rhythm as her fingers move slowly in and out of you. You pant and moan as you begin to reach your second peak, grinding against her face. Her fingers suddenly speed up causing wave after wave of pleasure to hit you. You cry out her name before letting out a final heavy breath.

She gives a shy smirk as she moves back up and lands her lips on yours, tasting yourself on her tongue. You quickly push up her skirts and she yelps as you pull her onto your face. Before you’ve really even begun she already cries out, quickly hitting her own second peak as she rides out the wave of it against your mouth. She looks down at you with heavy eyes before plopping down on the bed beside you.

You lay face to face and give bashful smirks and giggles. She looks at you like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say.

“Goodnight Khaleesi.” You smile and brush her hair from her face.

“Goodnight (y/n).” She blushes and gives a soft smiles back.

You watch her quickly drift off to sleep before you follow right after. Khaleesi had the first peaceful sleep in a long time. No longer awakening to nightmares, but waking up to the relief of seeing your lovely face laying beside her.

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shuichiakainx · 5 months ago

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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 3 months ago

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oh to be manhandled and pounded roughly by a stark 🥰🥰🥰🥰

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freakassfemme · 9 months ago

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(Smut) Captain's Quarters - Yara Greyjoy x CisF!Reader

Summary: Princess Y/N, sibling of Queen Daenerys, has returned with her sister for a visit to the Iron Islands. These visits used to be more commonplace, but the two have not visited the islands since before the Battle of Winterfell. Y/N has a strong attachment to the islands, but finds her attachment has extended to its reigning monarch in a new, unfamiliar way.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: loss of virginity, oral sex, fingering, praise kink (kinda), the works

A/N: Long time no see! I got so sick and tired of there being no reader insert for Yara that I arose from the dead with 4.2K words of yara-posting. Yara-yearning, if you will.

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

The night was surprisingly warm for the Iron Islands, and the salty mist of the beaches hung heavy in the air and clung to the sway of your hips and undone hair. Your hands clutched your silken robe shut as you leisured through the sand, a soothing waft of lavender from your recent bubble bath hitting your nose with a gentle breeze.

You paused at the base of the shore, where the brine nipped at your toes and you tilted your head back, deeply inhaling into your chest. Your eyes slipped shut.

It wasn't often you and your sister were able to visit the islands, but gods above, you had missed it. Queen Yara had earned a special place in Daeneyrs's heart after her proven loyalty to the Dragon Queen, and thus routine visits were necessary to uphold the alliance between the Greyjoys and the remaining Targaryens. Sometimes it felt like you had grown up here, and sometimes the coldness of Pyke felt more familiar to you than anything back home, despite how long it had been since you had returned.

You would never admit it, but something about the sea and the people on this particular side of the world had consumed you during all these years of visits. Something about the people's wildness and the way it mimicked the ocean that mothered the island spoke to you and whispered to you at night and danced on your eyelids in spirals and swirls.

Some other nights, when the whispers never came, you would hold a large shell up to your ear and pray. The beloved gift had always answered you with the melodic pounding of waves against rocks, against ships, and lured you to sleep. In your dreams, you would sink into your deepest desires.

In this realm, much below the surface level of what was true and probable, you would find yourself standing beside an iron throne. This was not unusual for you -- you had been born to stand behind your brother, and then readjusted to beside your sister. Your duty had always been protecting the honor of this seat and whomever presides in it, and yet this integral piece of your mind, heart, body and soul vanished in these moments, and instead, you found yourself for once atop of the throne.

Well, atop of its monarch.

Clawing at the throne, which was not particularly jagged and sharp like the one your sister sat upon, and clawing at the crowned, whose calloused hands curled inside you and rough lips whispered filthy promises to you in a voice that sounded an awful lot like

"Yara!"

You stumbled away from the shore, whose once soothing pulls had now gone ice cold and stabbed at your feet and at hem of your robe. Your hand readjusted the collar of your robe out of instinct, as your sense slowly settled, though your burning cheeks lingered a bit too long.

Turning towards the disturbance, your eyes caught on the closest (and largest) docked ship, whose windows and deck harbored light and celebration. A group of sailors and soldiers drank merrily and called for a straggling participant, who marched towards the boat and waved them off, enjoying the attention in her own way. In this moment, you were grateful that the shadows of the cliffs behind you hid your so very clearly out of place figure.

Your attention followed Yara as she boarded the ship, and despite the distance, you could make out the way they all greeted her with a clasp on the shoulder, pat on the back, or smack on the bottom. The corners of your mouth turned up at the raw, unabashed display of admiration.

Shudders ran down your back and you ignored the way your stomach turned. For a moment, you thought about heading back to the castle. Nauseatingly, you thought about knocking on your sister's door and spilling these secrets to her and beg for direction, a command, anything.

Daenerys was the closest thing you had to a mother, and the urge to crawl into her arms and wait for guidance on this troubling issue consumed you as it always had, but you were a woman now, a delicate one, but blossomed and bled nonetheless, and you had witnessed your own sister's call to these womanly urges, and it was incredibly reminiscent of this pull you felt to the Ironborn Queen.

Your mind wandered back to your arrival this morning.

"It has been so long since I've returned," you said to Daenerys as you marveled over the aged walls of Pyke. Your hand danced across the slotted stone, digging your finger into chipped areas and rubbing your thumb against the in-between space.

Daenerys smiled knowingly, hands clasped softly in front of her. Missendei, Tyrion, and Greyworm trailed closely behind.

"How long has it been?" You murmured, mostly to yourself.

"Not since before the war, my lady," Tyrion added, and you turned to him, nodding with a solemn smile.

"It has been nearly that long since I have seen the rest of the Greyjoys, as well. Not since Theon."

Tyrion and Daenerys nod respectfully, reminiscing on Theon's death and the bravery that presumed it. A small silence ensued.

"I never understood how you have adapted so well to this cold, my lady," Missendei said, sweetly cutting the silence.

"She is a dragon," Daenerys replied, reaching out to brush a bit of her sister's hair back into place. "She provides her own warmth."

The throne room was modest in size but exuberant in its carvings, luxurious enough to suggest status but rugged enough to represent the people it ruled. You couldn't help but admire it all, it being so vastly different from the outright lushness of Mereen or even Dragonstone.

Of course, the architecture was not the only thing you were interested in. You turned your attention to the throne, and immediately stopped. Your sister continued for only a few steps more, taking her place in front of you.

"Yara," Daeneyrs greeted with a warm smile.

Yara strutted forward with an unmatched level of confidence, and you couldn't help but stare at the way her leather tunic hugged her strong shoulders. You were used to Yara not dressing like any other lady you had known, but couldn't help but always think the natural defiance in her pants and boots exuded power and self-assurance. Yara looked somehow more bold and stronger than you had ever seen her, and it was admirable in an unfamiliar, indescribable way.

"My queen," Yara bowed in her own way, a half-smirk ever-present, "It is an honor."

The two clasped arms, and Daenerys smiled before turning to you.

"I'm sure you remember my little sister, Princess Y/N."

Yara's attention followed, and you couldn't help the way you held your breath and stared up at her with widened eyes. It was like you were seeing her for the first time.

"Princess Y/N."

Yara said your name like she was trying it on, but in truth she had always used formalities in this way, especially towards you. In your aw-stricken mind, you'd like to think that her gaze softened a bit. She had never looked at you like this before.

"Your return has been long-awaited."

She outstretched her hand, and you took it with both of your hands, feeling yourself relax into it. Your eyes watered a bit, and you squeezed, unable to avoid the way you beamed up at her.

"I have missed the islands dearly."

Your sister had given in to her own desires, and she had lived to tell the tale. Perhaps you would too.

The ground seemed to push you towards the ship, and by the time your eyes unglossed and you regained clarity, you found yourself standing at the base of the footway. You of course had been on many vessels that belonged to the Iron Fleet, and you knew the people on board rather well, but you couldn't help but feel nervous now. These men were rather drunk, and you knew you probably should have an escort this late. Not even status could always safeguard a lady from the hands of depravity and sin. Stupidly, you grabbed on to the ropes of the ramp and pulled yourself aboard.

Immediately the overwhelming stench of ale and piss cause you to wrinkle your nose.

"Gods above," you whispered to yourself. Though you had been quiet, the sailors very quickly took notice of your presence.

"Princess!" one called, waving at you with his mug of ale. It sloshed over the sides and splashed, narrowly missing you. The men around him jokingly scolded him.

"Come on Ravos, you don't want to ruin her dress," a dark haired, stout man called Yohn slurred.

"Don't look like she's wearing much of a dress to me."

The men turned to you once more, and your ears burned, now with a much more uncomfortable feeling as they eyed you. One coughed and shifted on his feet.

You wrapped your robe tighter, straightening yourself up like you had been taught. You narrowed your eyes slightly, and responded directly to Ravos.

"Where can I find Yara?" You asked, hoping you exuded more authority than the piece of meat you felt like.

Reacting much more appropriately, he turned and pointing towards the North end of the ship.

"Captain's quarters," he grunted, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, and the fifteen or so men stumbled backwards to allow for a path.

Carefully you stepped over puddles of questionable substances and shards of glass, maintaining as much grace and fierceness as you could muster. Behind you, the men resumed their activities, seemingly already over the drunken encounter. You knocked once on the Captain's door, before hurriedly slipping inside, eager to escape the sailors.

As you shut the door and turned to face her, you had to carefully force out a normal respiration rate. Yara was propped up in her chair with her boots resting on the desk, holding her own stein, though her sobriety seemed much more intact.

"Hello, princess."

Yara didn't bother hiding her surprise. She set her stein down and dropped her arms to the ends of her arm rest. A smirk creeped across her face, and she leaned her head back as she very obviously eyed you up and down, legs spreading a bit for a better view. Despite her brute persona, she did seem to try to hide the way she stuttered over the V of your robe.

You noticed anyways.

"A little far from the dressing room, are we?" She nodded at your outfit. You blushed and nodded with a smile. She smiled back and sat up. "You should know better than to walk around alone at night like that, especially here."

"I'm not alone now," you replied softly. Here in the candlelight, she was able to see you fully.

Yara took notice of the way you wrung your hands together, the way your eyes were glued to the loose laces of her tunic, the rose hue of your cheeks and ears, and your long, snow-white hair falling in loose curls around you.

Yara had known you for half a decade at this point. When she first met you, you were a scrawny, timid little girl who watched from Daeneyrs's shadow. To be fair, you were still quite shy, but you were a woman now, not nearly the little bird of a lady that you used to be. Now, in the warm lighting, she could see that these days you were more of a snow leopard than a cub, and you looked almost regal.

For a moment, Yara wondered what you would look like on the throne instead of your sister. Her hands squeezed at her chair at the idea, and she concluded that that was an image that would inspire millions.

Yara's eyes returned to your face, recomposing her commanding demeanor. She shrugged and stood, traipsing leisurely towards you.

Your eyes' followed each other, studying the other until they met. Yara had never looked at you this way, not that you could recall, and the curiosity in her face sent a thrill down your spine and fueled your ego.

"Oh, but I am as much as of a predator as any man out there, princess," Yara countered.

Peculiarly, you stepped forward, taking Yara by surprise at this newfound confidence. She watched you, and noticed something lurking behind your irises, something Yara was very familiar with and could feel exuding off of your body, but ten fold. She knew why you had come.

"And I am a dragon," You murmured, meeting her eyes without hesitation. Up close, you looked even more feral than before, with the sea spray making a wild mess of your hair, and each rock of the boat interrupting your breaths.

Yara backed up to sit on the edge of her desk, and you followed, keeping the distance small but not yet close enough. Yara waited for you to make a move with unusual patience. You raised your hand to caress the open area of her shirt with your palm, then push it aside just a few inches to trace her collarbone with your index and middle finger.

"Are you scared of dragons, Yara?"

"Anyone in their bloody right mind is scared of dragons," she replied, watching your hand as her breathing grew heavy. You giggled, reaching your hand around to cup the space between her ear and neck, letting your thumb rub her jaw.

"Are you scared of me?" You spoke quietly, like it was a secret meant to be kept safe between the two of you.

"I'm hungry for you," she growled, eyes heavy with desire. You felt your core throb in an entirely new way, letting out a small whimper at the feeling.

Finally, Yara reached out, hand splaying across your lower back, where she could finally feel that the robe was the only thing preserving your modesty, and she could've fainted at the realization.

"I've never been with a dragon before," Yara confessed, halfway a joke, yet halfway entirely all too true. You brought up her other hand to truly cup her face, bring her attention to you.

"I've never been with anyone before," You whispered, and for a second Yara could see that familiar timidness she knew of you flicker between the lust clouding your vision. "You are the only person I've ever wanted."

Yara let out a small noise at this. "Then you must be starved."

You nodded, eyes falling to her lips.

"Can I?"

"Please."

The first thing Yara noticed was how warm you are. Your lips against hers were like fire, and your soft whimpers made her want to crawl inside the flames and be burnt alive. You practically fell against her, knees going week, but she grasped you with both hands and held you up.

This alone was like nothing you had ever experienced. Your ears rung from the intensity and your nails dug into Yara's skin ever so slightly, illiciting a gasp from her that you greedily swallowed.

Yara reached back with one hand, pushing herself off to stand, keeping you slotted between her legs. She turned you both, pushing you against the desk until you were sitting atop it now. You raked your hands over her shirt, grasping at it and pulling her as close as you could. Yara put her hands between you and undid the tie to your robe, hurriedly pulling it off your shoulders. She reached under your thighs, lifting you up by them and letting the robe fall on to the floor.

As Yara angled you on to the desk, you propped your arms behind yourself, baring your legs to her. She paused, staring at your bare form and licked her lips.

"Gods below," she growled, running her hands up your body. You shivered as they danced over your thighs and ghosted over your breasts. "You're fucking stunning."

Yara pushed back between your legs. The warmth of her skin against yours and the cold leather of her pants pressing against your bare sex made you moan. Yara shoved her hand back behind your back and laid you down flat.

"Such a pretty cunt," she whispered, tracing her thumb over you. You gasped at the touch, and watched as she brought it up.

"Do you know what this is, sweet girl?" Yara watched the way the wetness glistened on her finger, and you nodded your head.

She grinned, then brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked it clean. You whimpered at the sight, nearly panting now in desperation.

She leaned down to kiss to you and forced her tongue into your mouth. You moaned at the feeling and at the taste, grabbing on to the back of her head and pushing back with your own tongue. Yara groaned into your mouth and grabbed you by the neck, deepening the kiss, if that was even possible.

Yara's scent and touch and taste consumed you, feeding into every one of your senses and bleaching them until all that was left was her.

Finally, Yara put her hand against your chest and pushed you back against the desk.

"Be a good girl and open your legs a bit more for me," she commanded, and without a single underlying thought, you obeyed, gasping at the way your stomach turned at the petname. You watched with slightly parted lips, panting, as Yara sunk to her knees, staring into your eyes so intensely that you couldn't even think about looking away.

She settled between your legs and brought her hands to rest up on your thighs, just in case. You pushed up on your elbows, trying to see what she was going to do, when she pressed a firm kiss to your sex. You groaned, cheeks going pink, and Yara reacted similarly.

She kissed again, this time open mouthed, and gently sucked on your growing bud. You could feel your cunt pulsing, and your thighs quivered around Yara's head, but she held firm.

She licked stripes around your clit, teasing you before giving it a direct swipe that had you balling your fists and curling your toes.

"Yara!" You gasped, perhaps a little too loudly, because the voices outside of the room suddenly quieted. You froze, looking down at her in panic, but she didn't share the same concern.

Instead, Yara chuckled, murmured your own name against your cunt almost tauntingly, and without any warning, eased her tongue inside of you. Your whole body stuttered, and you slammed your hand against the desk. Yara gripped your legs even tighter and repeated the motion, and you couldn't find it in you to keep quiet, not with the way Yara was working you like she was eating her last meal.

"Fuck," you groaned, back arching. You head fell back, curls falling with it, and Yara swore she had never seen anything more stunning or satisfying. Yara's own cunt throbbed impossibly hard, but she continued her merciless assault, drawing curse after curse from you, until Yara was certain the men outside knew exactly what was going on and with whom.

Yara stood and pulled your hips closer to the edge of the desk. Holding you by your hips, she rocked her hips against your core, and you gasped at the new sensation. You grabbed her shoulder, holding yourself up.

Yara cradled your face with one hand, and you buried yourself in her arm, ear pressed against her chest, whining and whimpering. She pressed kisses into your neck, nipping at it and bruising it. Slowly, Yara stopped her hips, and just as you started to get question it, she spoke.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?" She teased, and you cried out, nodding desperately into her arm. Yara laughed, and then when you felt her middle and ring finger prodded at your entrance, you clenched down, gasping.

"Relax, sweetheart," she whispered, kissing right behind your ear. "I'm going to take good care of you."

You shuddered against her, but tried your best to settle down. Yara started pushing in again, and you clenched again out of instinct, this time clamping down on her fingers. She groaned into your ear.

"You're so tight," she whispered, and you pulsed around her fingers, whining. Once she was entirely inside, Yara curled her fingers, and your whole body reacted.

Your legs wrapped around her, holding her in place, and your fingers dug into her lower back while you saw stars. You bit down on her arm, at least still attempting to keep quiet, and Yara moaned loudly. When you finally loosened you grip on her arm, she pulled your face back by your hair.

"Does that feel good?" She whispered against your lips, and you panted, pressing kisses between each breath.

"Yes, y-yes," You cried out, and she pressed a knowing kiss to your temple.

"I'm going to move them," she warned, and you nodded, eyes glassed over and lips parted. She kissed your fiercely, then held eye contact as she started pumping her fingers. You groaned loudly, then started moving your hips to meet her hand. As your body adjusted to the foreign feeling, you grew confident.

The sound coming from it was obscene, and you pulled Yara down to sloppily kiss her. Yara pushed harder, and so did you. Soon, you developed a rythym, and you could feel a pressure building up in your stomach. Yara glanced down at her hand, then back up at you, eyes unbelievably filled with even more lust. You followed her gaze and practically melted at the sight.

Thick, hot cream spilled out of you and on to Yara's hand, and gods above, her hand was huge. Her palm practically framed your whole cunt, and the sight made you dizzy.

Yara flicked her thumb over your clit, and you choked, grabbing her neck to hold you up from falling backwards. Your whole spine tingled, and your vision started to blur.

"Y-Yara, I'm," you gasped, but you weren't entirely sure what was going on. "I'm, I think I'm gonna -"

"Cum, sweetheart," Yara groaned. "You're going to cum for me." She pumped her fingers harder, and you sobbed into her arms, feeling your stomach ball up tighter, tighter, tighter, and then burst.

You screamed into her shoulder as your cunt gushed over her hand, and Yara moaned your name into your ear at the feeling. Your hips stuttered, but Yara kept pumping until you were shaking uncontrollably and babbling nonsense. Then, she eased out of you.

She tilted your head up with one hand, then brought the other soiled one between the two of you. You looked up with watery eyes and red cheeks, and watched as Yara licked your cum off of a few of her fingers. Then, she prodded your lips with the remaining two, and you opened your mouth, accepting it gratefully.

You pushed her fingers farther and farther down your throat, chasing that high and letting the bittersweet flavor swirl and cloud your taste and mind. You looked up at Yara through wet lashes, and she swore she could've creamed herself.

"Fucking hell," she groaned, and pulled her fingers out of your mouth, worried you'd probably suffocate yourself on them if she let you work at them any more.

You coughed and gasped, and regained your breath just before she pressed a firm kiss against your mouth. When she pulled away, you stared at her with wide eyes and she panted down at you. You couldn't pull a single word to say off your tongue.

She kissed your temple, then the side of your head, and rested her forehead against yours. "Gods below, are you sure that was your first time?"

You nodded breathlessly, swallowing thickly.

"You fuck like a-"

"- I want to do it again."

Yara pulled back, studying your face. Her face was expressionless, and for a moment during the silence, you were worried you had angered her, or somehow shamed her skill. Then, the corners of her mouth curved into a smirk.

"You want to do it again?" She asked, tilting her head until her lips were almost slotted against yours. You nodded your head.

"Is that okay?" You asked, no shyness left to spare.

Yara laughed loudly and kissed you. She stepped away, running her hands through her hair.

"Yes, fucking absolutely," she assured. She reached down and grabbed your robe. "But not in here, I have other things to show you."

You quickly got dressed. Your body shook, so Yara helped you with it extensively, and kept you steady. You looked up at her quizzically. "Other things like what?"

She grinned wickedly before pulling you up into her arms, one arm under yours and the other under your knees.

"You'll see, princess," she assured.

In her brutish style, Yara kicked open the door to her quarter's. The soldiers remaining on deck went absolutely silent, staring at the two of you with both terrified and amused expressions.

Yara coughed loudly and you buried your face into her shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

"If you gentleman will excuse me, me and the lady are going to retire for the night."

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axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

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Danerys Targaryen*My Queen

Pairing: danerys x f!reader (set in Meereen)

Word count: 813

Kintober Day ten: throne/semi-public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught

Warnings: mentions of war, throne sex, semi public sex, f!receiving oral smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“My queen you must rest,” you warned the blonde as she stood over the battle table with her advisors.

She shot you a nasty look, her eyes quickly darting back to the table, “War does not stop so I may rest,”

You grit your teeth, doing your best to respect your queen as you considered your conflicting orders. After all it was her that had made you her personal lady, the one who was to take care of her wellbeing. Whether that be to make sure she ate or bathed or even at times just to breathe.

Tyrion shot a concerned glance at you before his eyes trailed back to the table, “Perhaps if we came back to this with fresh minds,” he said, his eyes glancing around the room, “we would be more effective,”

Danerys sighed, walking away from the table silently to stand facing out a window. You turned to the men, nodding at them to leave which they silently did, muttering their graces as they left. Once the door was shut you watched Danerys’s sigh, her shoulders slumping down.

You walked up to her, placing your hands on her shoulders and soon she slumped back into your arms. “You must relax my queen. And that is an order,”

“I am your queen,” she said, no malice behind her voice but a distant silence, “it is my job to protect you my love,”

“And it is mine to keep you sane,” you said, ignoring how she stiffened in your arms. A few moments of silence past as you gazed over the streets of Mereen. The sun was setting, the darkening and for a moment it finally looked peaceful in the streets. “I have an idea,” you finally said, taking her arm and leading her out the room with no explanation.

“How is this supposed to help me relax?” she questioned, her eyebrows knitting in confusion as you sent the guards out the throne room to guard the doors. Daenerys took your hand as you led her up the stairs, refusing to answer her question just yet.

“Sit,” you told her, and she did without question. At this time of night no one roamed the halls apart from the guards but as you sunk to your knees a brief wash of panic covered her face, “No one is awake my queen, only us,” you said, your hands moving to her ankles, slowly moving your way up and pulling the dress up with it.

“What if someone walks in?” she asked, her pale eyes darting to the doors.

You shook your head, pushing the dress slowly up her thighs, “You are the queen, khaleesi of the great grass sea. You can do whatever you wish my queen however,” you said, kissing her knee gently, “right now you are tense. You cannot rule if you cannot even think,”

“So, what do you propose?” she asked, her voice suddenly quiet and her eyes locked on yours as you led soft kisses up her thighs.

You held back a smirk at her words, “I propose you let me help you unwind,” you said, hands trailing up under her dress to feel her bare hips, “Let me serve you my queen,”

Your movements paused, your eyes gazing up to hers waiting for permission. After a moment she finally nodded. You wasted no time, your lips diving in to kiss her already wet cunt. you heard her gasps, but you did not wait as you licked a stripe up her cunt, before your lips soon found her clit.

You sucked on it gently, massaging her bundle of nerves with your tongue and relishing in the quiet moans she let out. Your fingers sneaked up, teasing her hole for a moment before finally slipping two in. her hand soon found your hair, gripping it gently as you felt her hips buck against your face.

Deliberately you let out a small moan, letting your mouth vibrate around her clit making her thighs clamp around your head. You curled your fingers precisely and teasingly slow as you heard her murmur your name over and over like a song.

“Don’t stop,” she began to mumble, and you could feel her arching her back, pushing her cunt against your face. “Please,” your queen moaned like a commoner as your tongue continued its mission.

“Fuck,” she gasped, and you could feel her body stiffening under your touch. Your movements slowed, your mouth finally falling away so you could look up at the woman who slumped on the throne with a dazed expression.

“How do you feel my queen?” you asked, slipping your fingers out and moving to stand.

Daenerys reached out to take your hand, pulling you into her lap, “Much better now,” she smiled, her hands moving to rest on your hips, “but I will feel even better once I repay the favour,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

#game of thrones smut #game of thrones show #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen smut #daenerys targaeryen x reader #got smut #got x reader #got imagine #daenerys stormborn #daenerys stormborn smut #kinktober

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paulyenvol6 · 3 months ago

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Byka Atroksia (Chapter 4)

Contains: just a little angst and Rhaenyra being bipolar

Wordcount: ~2.40k

Masterlist of this story

Just when you were about to fall asleep you could feel Daemon roll off you.

It made you open your eyes again and you were back in the present moment. He exhaled loudly and stared at the ceiling while you felt weird at the loss of his weight on you. You felt exposed and cold suddenly.

Now that you were fully awake again more thoughts were floating through your head and a lot of emotions were washing over you. Slowly, you left the beautiful haze you had remained in after the intercourse and were pulled back into reality. You had just lost your virtue, your honor. Gods be good, what had you done? You weren’t married and yet you had just lost your maidenhood to your uncle. It wasn’t uncommen in your family to marry relatives but the point was that your father had no intentions marrying you to Daemon.

You felt your hands starting to shake. That was a catastrophe. A big, fatal mistake you had made. Maybe it was a dream, you thought. Maybe you would wake up in a couple of seconds and find yourself alone in your bed, right where you were supposed to be at this hour.

But then you turned your head and saw your uncle next to you, still breathing heavily and you felt yourself panick. If anyone would find out about this it would have terrible consequences. Your father would be furious, probably disinherit you and not call him his daughter anymore. Rhaenyra would look at you with disgust and suddenly you felt so dirty and filthy.

"Daemon.", you said with tears in your eyes. He slowly opened his eyes. "Mhmm…?", his voice sounded tired and annoyed by your disturbance.

"W-We shouldn’t have done this.", you whispered desperately and sat up on your uncle’s bed. "It was wrong, I-I was supposed to – How could we have – " Tears ran down your face and you pressed your hands over your mouth shocked by your action.

Daemon sighed deeply and slowly sat down on the bed as well. He reached out to you, grabbed both your upper arms, pulled you towards him and held you against his chest. He would have prefered to get some sleep now and wasn’t delighted by your outburst but did what he had to do. So he caressed your hair as he felt his skin getting wettened by your tears

"It’s alright…" "No it’s not, I – They’re gonna put my head on a spike for this." Daemon shook his head even though you couldn’t see it.

"They’re not, Vhaela."

"But w-when I'll be married some day my husband is gonna notice that I have lost my maidenhood already." Daemon exhaled. "Every woman is different. Some are tighter, some not. Some bleed, some don't. Perhaps he will be too much of an idiot to notice."

"But he COULD notice. And that would be… a disaster!" Suddenly you pulled away from him and looked at him with a serious look on your face.

"Please don’t tell anyone, uncle. They can’t know." He reassuringly nodded. "Yes. I will not."

You took a deep breath and tried to collect yourself. "We – That was so stupid, Daemon." He rolled his eyes and took your hand. "I think it was rather nice.", he whispered slowly as he pressed little kisses on the back of it.

"I didn’t know you were such a filthy, wicked beast." You blushed and there was the hint of a smile on your face.

"But now you need to rest, gevie riña (beautiful girl). You’re exhausted." You nodded in response and Daemon reached to the end of the bed to grab the blanket. He pulled at it to cover you both with it but you uncertainly watched him and played with your fingers.

"But, won’t they see us together in the morrow if I stay here in your chambers?" Daemon didn’t answer you immediately but put his hands on your waist and moved you so you laid next to him.

"No, they won’t. The servants don’t come in here in the morrow. I’ve told them not to countless times." He moved the hair out of your face.

"You don’t need to worry so much, little owl. I’ll protect you." You looked up to him with big eyes and it felt good to hear him say these words. They gave you comfort and made you think that actually everything would be fine.

"Such a sweet, little, innocent thing.", he whispered and kissed you on your forehead. "Sleep now."

~~~~~~~~~~

You were woken by the daylight in the morrow and needed a moment to remember what had happened the night before. You felt a little tension in your belly and you weren’t certain if it was caused by the memory of Daemon’s hot touch on your body or the fear what might happen if someone was to find out about your sins.

Daemon was still asleep next to you but only a few minutes after you had woken up he opened his eyes as well.

"Mhmmm.", he grunted and yawned. "Good morrow, uncle." He stretched his arms and turned to his other side. "Good morrow."

Did he really want to go back to sleep now?

"Daemon, I have to go now. The risk is too high that someone is gonna see me here." You looked at him with big eyes and Daemon slowly sat up. "Then go. There is the door." You frowned and he chuckled sleepy. "Sorry."

"I didn’t know you were so grumpy in the morrow."

He didn’t answer to that but got off the bed to grab his clothes which you did in the meantime as well. Then he turned to you.

"You should go through the secret tunnel from my room into the city and then back to the keep." You were confused and looked at him questioning. "What?"

"My sweet Vhaela, you’re the one who’s so concerned so this is me trying to come up with a plan that will make sure no one will suspect anything." You still didn’t know what he was talking about.

"We left the feast yesterday and there were probably enough people to tell my father that we left together. If you want to avoid rumours we have to give them an explanation for what we were doing. If you leave the keep through the tunnel that leads from my chambers right into the city and you enter the Keep now in the early morrow they will think that you have spent the night out. Which is exactly what you’re gonna tell them. And as nobody has seen either you or the two of us together they will believe it. You and I left the feast together and I shortly after went up to my chambers. You, on the other hand went out to… I don’t know, come up with something. It wouldn’t make sense to assume that we were together in the city if you return alone and I myself remain in my bed until noon."

You slowly nodded. Everything he had said made sense and you admired him for how quickly he had thought of a clever plan. So you let him lead you to the wall behind his bed but when your gaze fell on the bed you stopped.

"Daemon.", you said. He turned to look at you and then his eyes followed yours. There was a red stain on the sheets and of course you knew where it came from. You had bleeded when you had lost your maidenhood and now there was proof on the bedsheets. Daemon understood and shrugged his shoulders as if he thought it was nothing.

"I can get rid of it. I can burn it if necessary."

"Really?" He kept walking to the wall and left you looking at the blood stain.

"Yeah, of course." You gulped but then followed your uncle. Then everything happened very quickly. He opened the door to the secret passage and you stepped out of the chambers and into the tunnel.

"Be careful, little owl. Promise me that." You nervously looked at him. "Is it gonna be…. I haven’t been to the city a lot. Is it dangerous?" Daemon caressed your cheek. "If you keep your head down and your Targaryen hair hidden…", he adjusted the scarf he had just wrapped around your head. "Then you’ll be fine."

You nodded. "Alright. I… I’ll see you soon." Your uncle nodded and couldn’t hide a smirk looking at his not so innocent niece.

~~~~~~~~~~

You felt a stitch in your side as you walked up the many stairs. You were out of breath and the sun was already burning down at you which you had appreciated once you had arrived in the city but now it was too hot. Everything had worked so far and you hoped that your father would believe the story you had come up with during your walk.

You had fought with your sister (which wasn’t a lie), then talked to your uncle who had noticed your bad mood. He had suggested you needed some fresh air and escorted you out of the hall and into the gardens. There, you had said that you needed some time alone and Daemon had gone to his chambers while you, who had felt out of character and risky last night, had decided to go down into the city to just be in a different environment for once. You had strolled through the streets, watched all the attractions one could find and then fell asleep on a hay ball in a shed after drinking a little too much. You knew that you father would be angry nevertheless. His daughter, the Princess drunkily spending her time in bars and sheds? You gulped. But it was better than telling him the truth.

The guards at the red keep let you pass once they recognised you without asking what you had done in the city at that early hour. You felt miserable when you entered the hall. Not only did you fear the upcoming conversation with your father but thinking about you activities last night put you through hell as well. You had sinned, had committed an unspeakable crime. And you hated how much you had enjoyed the time with your uncle. You should feel disgusted now, thinking about his touch, but you didn’t. Because you hated that you did that, that you had lost your honor and virtue and that you had such a lack of will strength but at the same time it made your breath go faster thinking about Daemon’s hands on your body.

"Vhaela!" You quickly turned around with widened eyes and saw your sister walking towards you.

"Vhaela, where have you been?" Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around you and held you tightly. "We were so worried, has something happened to you?" You gulped loudly and felt tears in your eyes.

She and your father had been scared for you while you had done such a terrible action. And why did Rhaenyra had to be so caring and kind to you right now? It only made you feel worse than you already did.

"No, I’m fine, sister." Rhaenyra ended the hug and observed you intensely. "But where were you? I saw you leaving the feast with uncle, what did you do?"

You tried to look as honest as possible and started speaking. "After our fight… I didn’t feel very well and uncle saw that. We went out to get some fresh air and then he left me alone and I… I went to the city." Rhaenyra looked at you with an open mouth.

"What? Vhaela, you… Why? How could you do that?" You looked to the ground. "I’m sorry, I-I felt so odd yesterday. After everything I just felt like I needed a change in my environment. See something else than the keep."

Rhaenyra let out something that sounded like a cry and took your hand. "Vhaela. I’m sorry."

"What? What are YOU apologising for?" Your sister shook her head and looked sad. "Our fight… I was nasty yesterday. I don’t know what it was, but I’m sorry. Gods, and you brought yourself into such danger because of me…"

"No. No. I acted with full responsibility. I promise you this, Rhaenyra, it’s not your fault. And nothing happened to me anyway." Rhaenyra sighed deeply.

"What exactly did you do, Vhae?" You gulped and just wished you could tell your sister the truth. You didn’t always get along but right now she was kind and genuinely cared about you.

"I aimlessly walked through the streets and watched all the street artists. And then I… I drank some wine in a tavern and fell asleep on a hay ball."

Rhaenyra looked to your interlocked hands and desperately shook her head. "The things that could have happened… Gods be good, Vhaela, you could have get hurt. Someone could have used your drunk state and rape you." You intensely looked at her, trying everything to make her calm down and not making her feel responsible for what she believed to had happened.

"But nothing did happen, Rhae. I swear this to you, I’m perfectly fine. And I will not do this again. Ever."

Rhaenyra once again pulled you into a hug. "You will not. Oh Vhae, I can’t believe you’re 16 already.", she then whispered. "You’re my little sister after all. My little sister that needs to be protected."

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. "I don’t need to be protected." Rhaenyra looked stern and bit her lip.

"Just promise me. Promise me you won't act so stupidly again." You nodded a few times and tightly held your sister’s hand. "I promise you, Rhaenyra. On our mother’s memory." Rhaenyra exhaled loudly.

"Now you will have to listen to father’s outburst but I guess you deserve it a second time. And I also have a few things to say to uncle." Your head rapidly turned to your sister. "I simply can’t believe him, I can’t believe he’d leave you alone in the gardens at such a late hour."

As you didn’t know what to answer to that you just silently followed your sister who brought you straight to your father’s chambers. You both knew that you couldn’t avoid this conversation and like your sister you thought it was best to get over with it as quickly as possible.

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councilofcastamere · 3 months ago

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hotd is unrealistic because if I was the small folk I’d rather kill myself than ask for food from dragon wielding Aryan assholes… like they probably commit incest because it’s the closest those narcissists come to fucking themselves

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wyvernest · 3 months ago

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cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

first part - previous part - all chapters list

chapter cw: smut, fluff, ANGST, explicit description of a wound

Wind's howling. The sea simmers with wrath and death.

The deck creaks and groans under you like an old beast waking from a decade-long sleep, bones cracking and jaws grinding with vengeance.

There is no crew, no captain. The ship is a wraith, and you, a speck of dust in the darkness.

You step towards the taffrail, looking down into the abyss. Terror washes over you, a raw instinct of deathly peril. Your heart thumps in your ears, and you feel the blood race through you.

Deep below, a wreckage drifts on the tides, carried by charred tongues of fallen beasts, licking its last life away. Atop, a small, frail creature, claws at the damp wood, drained and wounded.

Your throat tightens, a deeply rooted, dreamlike feeling of being bound to the creature rushes through you like wildfire. It tenses and crawls, its blood seeping into the black waters like a frozen breath leaving warm lungs for the last time.

The wind wails louder as you bend forward, seeking help, life, hope, with terror biting at your every sense. You slip over the ledge, and the void swallows you in your fall.

You awaken in your bed, the night barely pierced by the first lances of sunlight through the clouds. The fear slowly retreats, your breathing slowing down.

Cregan is still asleep next to you, lying on his stomach and facing away from you, his hair splayed messily over his shut eyes. You get up, quietly leaving his side to soothe yourself with cold water.

The castle is silent and imperturbable, a welcomed calmness following your nightly terrors. You walk like a ghost through the halls, lulled by the newfound safety, yet your mind is still imprisoned in thought.

Why would I even dream of such things? I cannot recall the last time I saw a ship, I cannot recall the last time I saw a storm at sea.

It is long past four moons since you first arrived in Winterfell, four moons since you last saw Dragonstone, your family, your brothers and sisters. The tenth day of the twelfth moon of 129 A.C. And for four moons, you haven't missed them nearly as much as now.

Perhaps it is the war, the news of Rhaenys, the murder, the unavoidable dread of death that knows no borders. Whatever it is, the dream shook you out of any serenity Cregan has struggled to settle in your heart.

“This is war. And the finality of death harrows even the toughest of men.”

But it was not the harrowing of your heart that woke you now. You would accept the night terrors every time you slept if it meant you could see your family alive and well again.

When you return to your chamber, Cregan shuffles to look at you, still lying down. He smiles, lazy and content, until he notices the strain between your brows, something you did not mean to bring back to him.

“My love?” He calles for you, but you push him back down before he could rise. You fall beside him, letting his warm hand cup your freshly washed cheek. “Did something happen?” His voice is still groggy with sleep, and the closure subdues your bleak worries.

“Just a dream.” You whisper, closing your eyes. His hand brushes over your hair lovingly.

“Tell me.” His hand moves to caress your back, pulling you closer to him.

“There is no need. All is good now.” But is it?

And yet you cast your worries aside when he drags you nearly under him, his free hand running over your waist and hip, dipping into the valley between your thighs. You cast your worries aside when you feel the coarse hair of his abdomen brush up against your belly.

Your mind goes numb when his massive body encompasses yours, as he breathes hotly into your neck, slipping himself inside you lazily; when he whispers to you of how he'll protect you, ah, love, you're mine own now, no harm will come to you.

But when his warmth leaves you, deep in the nights to come, the dreams find you again.

The second time they came with the same black waters, the drifting wreckage, but now shadows danced in the skies. Sinister serpents, prowling like enormous crows above a fresh cadaver. They pushed the clouds beneath them with behemothic wings, and you felt as though the whole night sky was coming down on you, in all its weight and darkness.

You dared look up once, up into the mirroring abyss. And then, you saw it. Through the gloom and mist, a ghost of a citadel atop a sunless hill. Perhaps there are many castles you may confound in such obscurity, but this was not one to be mistaken for something else.

Estrangement, guilt, it was, that claimed you in all these nights. A terrible shame, inexplicable for your position. You were sent North, you did not abandon your cause. But the creature in the sea bled every night, clung to the wreckage every night, and died every night.

It soon became an obsession. And weeks past, well near the end of the twelfth moon, your uneasiness bolts as Cregan receives another raven from Dragonstone.

The flying shadows. - is your first thought upon reading. The serpents swarming the skies. Though the letter should soothe you, with the notion of the Blacks’ forces finally recuperating, all you see is the black sky in a cobweb of smoke and thunderclouds. You see them much clearer; your family’s dragons stalking above the seas like starving vultures.

A broad hand on your lower back makes you turn back to Cregan.

“Word of this reached me shortly before the raven arrived.” He admitted, referring to new riders. “Your brother waited until the last dragon was mounted to write to us, but the people have been spreading the news like the plague ever since he first called for willing men.”

An overwhelming feeling of helplessness muffles out his voice. It's all amounting to the dream.

“They have fighting dragons.”

“You have fighting dragons, beloved. I dared not believe it without his testimony.”

You force yourself to smile at him, laying your head on his collarbone, the message still in hand.

“This is wonderful news.”

He kisses your forehead, taking the small scroll away. You briefly rub your fingers in its loss, as if the news had burnt your very skin.

“I am glad to know that I was able to please you, as well.” He remarks smugly, his tone laced with the honest surprise of seeing your brother quite literally tell on you.

Sudden nervousness momentarily rips you from the illusions of your distress. You scrunch up your face, as if you hadn’t already given him your maidenhead.

“Few brides have the comfort of wedding handsome men. Fewer, able men, and even fewer kind men. But …” You trail off, taunting his patience. He gazes at you, eyes squinted, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly raised. Even as a wolf, he often times held the cunning gaze of a fox, which amused you to no end, for you know it was only reserved for you. How he had the talent of drawing you out of dark thoughts with nothing but a jest or a tease.

“Well, don’t stop now.” His voice went down an octave, now sly and intimate.

“But to gain all three …” You kiss his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth.

His arms wrap around you in response. “To find yourself next to a man so strong-” another kiss, on his jaw. “- so resourceful -” another, on his lips, but so hasty that he doesn’t catch it.

“ - and yet so considerate and gentle. You hard warriors have no idea how important that is.” You stop, softly pushing him away to speak, your tone masquerading a scold. “You think it’s enough to butcher away any foes and any peril. But after that…” a kiss on the bridge of his nose. He looks at you like you’re preaching the word of gods. “ - to be able to lie in his arms, to know that these hands, that bathe in blood to protect her, will only ever touch her to caress, to fondle, to hold so dearly.” Your voice spills into seriousness, and he heeds your confession.

“That is when she truly feels safe.” You smile at him, accentuating your discourse by playfully shaking him twice by his shoulders. “And to have that, is more than any woman bargains with the gods for.”

He kisses your face, the slyness faded from his eyes.

“...And I can’t say you don’t look the part.”

He giggles, and your heart beats a little faster.

“I did not yet have the chance to truly protect you, love.” He corrects, and your heart sinks at his humble words, or more so at the recollection of your worries. “I haven’t yet spilt blood for you. Trust that I will , should the occasion arise.” That was no longer a jest, you realise. “And afterwards …” He leans into you, and seeing you do nothing to flee, he kisses your neck. “I’ll hold you, however you want, wife.”

Tonight you can barely shut your eyes without your heart thumping in your chest. After tossing and turning beside your husband, tiredness finally takes you and the visions creep over.

The nightsky rains with arrows. They snap and ring against the wooden shipwrecks like so many sharp teeth of jaws closing in on utter desolation.

Faceless, weightless, you step on the waters while the black wings dance and stalk restlessly, as the shafts hit the debris in a cacophony of wails, winds, tides crashing and roars of wrath.

And in this moment, it feels as though this cut is too deep even for time to mend. This place would never recover from such decay. Chaos has conquered the bay, irreversibly.

Death itself growls in the heavens above, blocking out the light of the moon. The sea heeds the call and drowns whatever escaped its claws, and the Red Keep stands still and cold and silent on the shores, an ill omen of rot and ruin.

The man on the rubble is dead. A snapped arrow coated in blood bore into his neck, the impact twisting his upper spine so unnaturally that he lies lifelessly atop the wreckage like a mayhem of boneless limbs discarded.

Only a hand quivers away in agony, the last semblance of a decapitated animal’s tremble.

You stomach turns.

Jacaerys!

You awaken in a sweat, with a shriek that rips Cregan from his slumber as well.

“ ‘S alright, come here, you're safe.” He cradles your still shivering hands to his chest, running a hand over your hair and back.

“ ‘m sorry.” You speak, muffled, remorseful and ashamed.

“It's no fault of yours.”

“...Cregan?”

You whisper, your limbs still tangled with each other. He hums, as attentive as he always is. The sun is just starting to show, and the dimness of the morning makes him look astonishingly beautiful.

“Would you do anything to shield me from pain?”

“ ‘course I would. What do you need of me?”

You hesitate. You know he would forbid you from fleeing, though you can not bring yourself to hide from your husband any longer. Whatever needs to be done, you ought to discuss it together.

“I need to fly South.”

There is a moment of complete silence. His face, for all you’ve grown to know, is now as impenetrable as The Wall. You cannot tell if you, indeed, sense anger or if it is only your expectations, for asking such a thing. You both get up as tension becomes unbearable.

“My men are already gathering at the White Harbour.” He speaks with patience and softness, understanding of your predicament, though stern and clearly unwavering. “In Barrowton.” He continues, “Roderick Dustin should be ready to march by week’s end. I-”

“ ‘Should’, and ‘by week’s end’…” You repeat to yourself in sorrow, too late releasing you quite rudely interrupted him. But the urgency of the issue can no longer afford gentleness nor much civility. “My family needs me, now. I dreamt of it, Cregan. You must believe me! And even if it’s wanton, even if the peril is still at bay, then I shall return safely. You mustn’t worry.”

“Wife.” His tone is demanding. It silences you, but deep in your heart you loathe him for it. You loathe him because of your dreams, because of the war, because greybeards can only ride so fast and so far, and will definitely not head for The Blackwater Bay.

“I have faith in your courage.” He begins, still holding you, yet the frost in his gaze is anew. “I do not doubt your loyalty. But as husband, I cannot allow you to risk such a thing. As warden, I cannot allow you to forsake the Queen’s command.”

“That’s your desire to protect me!” You speak hastily until your voice breaks, yet you go on. “What of me? How am I to live on knowing I could have saved someone so dear?! How am I to live with the remainder that I saw what would happen and did nothing?!”

“Dreams can be bad omens. But what if it was nothing more than a dream?” His voice escalates into the clear image of your demise in his mind. “What if you die for nothing? How would I live with that? Knowing I could have prevented it?”

“Cregan.” You brush an arm over his shoulder.

“I will say no more. You are not leaving Winterfell.” It is a command. And yet you hear him mumble, “I can’t lose you.”

Your heart sinks into your chest, and your throat tightens with unspoken pleas and cries.

Fortunately for you, Cregan is a heavy sleeper. He was still off soundly when you roused, during the hour of the wolf.

He was still undisturbed when you gently kissed his cheek, as an apology and farewell. He was unmoved when you slipped out of bed, changed into riding skirts and threw chainmail over your chemise and underneath the leather cloak.

“Lady Stark.” A reverential voice echoes in the halls when you depart from your shared bedchamber. For a heartbeat, your blood freezes at the thought that Cregan might, at last, awaken because of it.

“I have orders from Lord Stark to ensure your safety. Allow me to accompany you.”

“Oh, there's no need. I only mean to clear my mind on the battlements.”

Before he could reply, you turn your back to him and stroll off to the winding stairs. Your footsteps feel heavy, heavier than your masked armour, heavier than the dagger at your belt.

The cold, high winds hit your face as you reach the top of the castle. The merlons thin out the howling of winter gusts, but the cold dread is no less horrifying.

“Māzīs! Aderī!” (Come! Quick!)

The Godswood shivers with the call, but it does not matter. No one in the yard could be fast enough to catch you now.

Soon enough, a high pitched shriek answers as a slithering, white ghost of a cloud emerges from behind the high walls of Winterfell.

The silence of the night wails, broken, as Suvion brings his wings down, and with one, two swings, he's landing atop the tower, his hawk claws scraping the stone.

He brings his head to you, slightly frenzied by your tone and distress.

His icy scales shine with the dampness of the snow he had been dousing in, and his sheer beauty in the moonlight soothes you. He has grown. His wings are stronger. The cold had hardened him, as it did me.

“Sister!”

You halt, right before mounting.

“Sara.”

“Off on a nightly prowl?” she jests, but the moment she comes closer, eyeing your attire, her playful smile fades.

“Tell Cregan” you hesitate, pondering, “-to tell the lords he sent me on a secret scouting mission.”

She frowns, disheartened, lost, confused. After a few beats of unbearable ache, she speaks, as icy as Cregan had.

“Did you loathe it all from the beginning?”

“Sara, I cannot-”

“Is this what you'd always hoped to do?”

It's not an accusation. It's forlornness. Betrayal, and the grief of it.

“If I don't go, I will carry this burden with me for the rest of my life.”

She remains silent, but even Suvion twitches at the sound of her soft weep. You mount, shivering, with the cold, with regret, with doubt and fear, and guilt.

“If I do not return by the new moon's end, I loved him. Tell him I loved him. Tell him it's not his fault.”

With nothing but the sound of his wings, Suvion takes off from the tower.

a/n: that was quite the chapter

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