#cregan stark x reader

[misguidedasgardian]

I need to...

Enjoy my Summer I.

MASTERLIST

Summary: You start off your summer in Dorne, with your girl best friend and your godmother 

Pairings: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Snow

Warnings: cursing, horny people, PDA, teasing, fears of cheating, discussion about cheating, all in good fun, might miss some warnings, you know what this is about jeje

Wordcount: 4,4 k

Notes:I can't apologise enough for the delay to this! I had most of the next chapter and nothing on this one! jeje I had a HUGE block... and eventually, I managed... but I feel like there is nothing intense on this chapter, but still... I hope you all liked this!

“Cregan! Jace! Look who we run into!”, you said excitedly into the back camera of your phone. Jace and Cregan’s mouth opened widely when they saw who you were with

“Hello, I’m Oberyn Martell and this is for these lovely ladies’ boyfriends, Jace and Cregan!”, the charismatic man said, waving at the camera

Then you and Sara show up in screen, Oberyn grabbed you both under each arm and kissed your cheeks

“You are lucky men!”, he teased. You show up giddy and giggly, hugging onto Oberyn martell

The boys’ smile wiped out immediately, sharing concerned looks

“Is Oberyn going to… fuck our girlfriends?”, asked Jace, with a traumatised look on his face

“No! No”, muttered Cregan looking at the road ahead, “I don’t think….”, they both looked ahead wide-eyed and mouth agape…“Well…”

“He is going to fuck our girlfriends isn’t he?”, asked Jace

“Alright search where is the nearest airport and how much is going to cost us the next plane ticket to the fucking watergardens…”

“We can’t leave the car in here dude!”, muttered Jace, typing on his phone, “besides is going to cost us like a thousand golden dragons and 12 hours with three different connections, by the time we get there…”

“You are right, is crazy….”, they spend the next minutes in silence, just looking at the road, “Look…”, started Cregan grabbing onto the wheel, “...he is Oberyn Martell alright? I don’t know if the girls choose to… do… him… but… if they did… I mean…”, Jace nodded nervously

“Yes we couldn’t blame them, I mean, if I encountered him, and he invited me to his hotel room, I’d go too”, Cregan nodded enthusiastically

“Yeah, right? Mee too, and I wouldn’t like my beautiful girlfriend to be mad, because… he is Oberyn Martell, right? everyone’s favourite actor/philanthropist/playboy/martial arts specialist/tv personality”

“Yeah so if they decided to… go back to his room with him…”

“We shouldn’t be mad”, said Cregan

“Right, right, if anything… we are jealous”

“Right!”, said Cregan, and they both went back to stare at the road ahead 

Cregan wished he had gone with you instead of having all those boring family reunions, specially with Robb being so mean, he was forced to hang out in the kid’s table, it was a bit embarrassing, considering he was twenty

But that was done, and now, Jace and him where on his car, on their way down the routes of the North, their plan was to explore some cities as they made their way towards Harrenhal, give the girls time to join them when they finish in the Watergardens 

But Cregan was so happy to receive all those exciting texts from Sara, she was having the time of her life thanks to you, and those texts from you to… made him blush as he was looking straight ahead

He wasn’t worried about you and Oberyn, not at all, but he did wish he was with you right now, having met him and together in the sun… summer… made him so horny, he didn’t even know why.

“We should be arriving in Castle Cerwin in a couple of hours”, offered Jace with a smile 

Castle Cerwin was a cool town but not where the boys would like to be 

But this is the decision they had made so it's the one they were sticking to, besides they were meeting some of Cregan’s friends so it was going to be a fun night in the town with all boys

Then…. Like five other towns in their way to The God’s Eye

But meanwhile

“Should I feel bad that you didn’t bring your boyfriend for me to meet?”, asked Your Godmother over her Chanel sunglasses

As Sara enjoyed the pool over an inflatable flamingo, your godmother started the third degree on you.

“No”, you said shakily, “It’s nothing like that, it's just, he had things to do with his family”

“How serious is this?”, she asked, not convinced 

“I think pretty serious”, you whispered as you sunbathed by her side

“It’s a bit soon, don’t you think?”, she asked, concerned

“We thought things through”, you reassured her, “we are taking things slow”

“Are you?”, she asked, well, not really

“My therapist says he is been good for me”, you said, that seemed to content her

“And when can I meet him?”, she asked

“After this, we are all going to the God’s Eye”, you offered with an apologetic smile

“Alright, maybe next season”, she muttered, you only laughed

“It would mean a lot to me if you met him”, you said with a soft smile

“I can’t wait, my love”, she answered, “from what you have told me, he seems like a great guy, and if he is half as nice as his sister… I’m sure he is the right one for you”

“Well, is too soon to speak about forever, but that is how it feels like right now”, you whispered with a silly smile, and you found your Godmother smiling back at you

“I’m so glad you finally found someone who can… well… a decent man”, she finished, you giggled

“After this we are going to Daemon’s house, in the Island of faces”

“I’ve heard”, she teased, “without any adult supervision?”, you giggled

“No… I don’t think so…”

“Take care, alright?”, she asked, “please?”

“Of course”, you whispered 

“And tell that little Cregan that if he doesn’t take care of you… I can pay someone to take care of him…”

“Godmother!”, you chided playfully

“I’m just teasing…”, she said sipping her cocktail

You spend the rest of the day in the pool, and by the end, you had an early dinner, and started sipping cocktails with Sara. Your godmother left you, and you both were alone to go to the club that was inside the resort.

You didn’t felt particularly in a party mode, and even though you were with Sara and you were having the best of times, you missed Cregan and Jace, there is some things that you’d rather do with them, like going out to a club, but you were determined to have a great time only with Sara.

The boys haden’t answered much, and you understood, they were driving, you really wished they would let you know when they arrived at their destination, but you didn't want to be pushy… or even come out as controlling

Maybe they were at a spot where they didn’t have a signal… those thick woods around the roads in the North were tricky, you really didn’t want to be concerned… it was a bit frustrating… not knowing what to say or do in this situations

You cared for Cregan and you wanted to talk to him, make sure he is good and having a good time

They barely answered to your video of Obryn Martell when you encountered him

IT WAS OBERYN MARTELL! He was everyone’s favourite actor/philanthropist/playboy/martial arts specialist/tv personality, and they barely answered!

You had to take a long breath

They were driving, haven’t even made it to Castle Cerwyn yet, probably

Your phone “dinged”, it was a text from Cregan

Just arrived at castle Cerwin to Ben’s house, everything is fine, ttyl

“That’s it?”, you asked Sara, as she was applying her lipstick, she read the text and raised an eyebrow

“Well, at least they are fine”, she said dismissively

“Nothing from Jace?”, you asked her

“I’m sure they are fine! Just tired! They had been driving all day”, she said mindlessly, and you wanted to be alright with them… lack of communication

You weren’t stuck to your phone all day either, right?

I’d love to “see” you later, videochat?

You typed, but you erased it before you hit send, you didn’t really want to be clingy.

You look at the mirror for the last time, you were looking fine, so was Sara, with simply dresses, hair loose, simple makeup, comfortable shoes

You had no expectation of the night whatsoever, only to have some Dornesy cocktails and have a real girls talk with your friend

You decided to go to a club a couple of hotels over, they say it was the most fun, you took a hotel van to the place, a method of transportation that was not going to be available later at night

The place was nice, over the beach, a nice looking bar, it was already night, so everything was lit up, outside with torches and other “tiki” looking decorations

You ordered a round of fruit-based drinks and you couldn’t stop chatting about everything you had seen and do for the last couple of days.

Sara had never travelled out of Winterfell before and she was looking at everything with wonder, it was actually refreshing, more so since you haven't been to the Watergardens before either, so it was all new to you too.

The people were nice, and very good looking, the sights were amazing, the Watergardens were some sort of an oasis in the middle of a desert, they were breathtaking 

You were having the time of your life, with your godmother and your friend, and yet… you were missing someone, and you spent all day wondering what would it be like if Cregan was here with you, and Jace as well.

It was such a romantic place! 

Even though you weren’t sure how comfortable you would be around Cregan wearing a bikini, but at the same time… you felt so… warm… just by thinking about it

You couldn’t wait to meet them in the lake, it was going to be such a great time! 

Both your phones “dinged” at the same time, and you grabbed them together, it was a notification of a publication of Cregan and Jace, together.

You found it odd, but went to the publication

And paled

Your boyfriends had encountered the one and only…

“IS THAT…?”, You asked

“Margaery Tyrell”, muttered Sara, looking wide-eyed the photo they posted

“Impossible!”

“Well she was on a national tour!”

“Oh for the gods”

She wasn’t alone, she was with her best friend and also a singer… Jeyne Westerling

One for each

They seemed pretty cosy, judging by the background, they were in some restaurant

“Do they think they didn’t take it well that we met Oberyn Martell?”, she asked fearfully, you didn’t know what to think, what to do

Why didn’t he text you personally?

Why did he have to post it? Well, it was a collab with a friend, a friend posted it, but tagged them so, it wasn’t them, they were probably too busy just… chatting it up with two of the most gorgeous and talented women in the entire continent

“Oh gods”, Sara sighed, “should we call them?”, she asked

“No”, you said firmly, sipping on your cocktail, “we shouldn’t bother them”

“You don’t think they'll have dinner and party together, right?”, she asked fearfully

“No, no I don’t think so”, but when you better thought about it. They were two handsome, hunky, smart, kind, amazing young men and… They would be the biggest idiots if they wouldn’t

“I see concern in your face, should we be concerned?”, she asked, and then you shook your head

“They weren’t concerned about us and Oberyn, right? They are the boys!”, you said as it was obvious, “Cregan and Jace! Not any other!”, you said simply, “we took the video with Oberyn, and sent them a greeting because we knew they were fans as everyone else is, for the record, they did the same! I mean… if they saw Margaery and Jeyne and didn’t take pictures with them like… they are idiots!”, and now you were rambling

“You are rambling”, she said

You looked at your phone as if you could call Cregan with your mind, but it wasn’t working, they didn’t call you, they didn’t ask Margaery to send you a greeting.

Gods

It would be so much better if you could call him, call them, and talk, and hear how much they miss you, as much as you missed them.

“Let’s talk about something else”, Sara offered, ”they are not torturing us all day, we shouldn’t torture them”

“Yes! Yes”, you said simply, and you started talking about the plans for the remaining days.

But something was bugging you, in the back of your mind

It was probably the lack of texting from your boyfriend and best friend 

And the very possibility they could be partying with the most perfect and famous person you had ever seen.

 You both tried to keep your mind off of things, the place started to get crowded, and you lost your table as it was clear to set up a dance floor and now you were talking at the bar, snacking on Lys fries and still sipping on a new cocktail

Oh if you only notices how far you had moved from your cellphones in the bar

It had been a couple of hours, you had shooed away a couple of guys who were a little bit straightforward

“Want to dance?”, you asked her, and she nodded enthusiastically 

“Yes! Let’s do it!”, you looked for your belonging in the bar… and nothing

“Where are our phones?”, you asked, searching frantically

“They were right here!”, she said, as scared as you were

“Dammit!”

You looked everywhere, asked all the bartenders, but nothing, someone took your phones

“We should go back to the hotel”, you said, the night a bit spoiled, you weren’t concerned, they were locked, and unlocking your phone and Sara's was impossible because of the making of the phone itself, but still…

“Yes, before it's too late to get a cab”, she muttered 

. . .

“I can’t believe we met Margaery, she was so nice”, muttered Jace with a dreamlike expression on his face

“Yeah, who would have thought? Of all restaurant in the the city, that would have walked in the same one”, said Cregan

“The girls seemed oddly quiet though”, said Jace

“I didn’t send them the pic yet”, said Cregan

“Wait… Ben uploaded something”, said Jace, looking into his socials, “and Sara saw it”

“You have no more messages from her? I have nothing from (y/n)”, Spoke Cregan, now concern

“They wanted to talk but it was when we were in the HIghway entering the city and… it was messy, and we had started fighting!”, muttered Jace

“And then we barely texted them when we were greeting Ben and his ten siblings and his parents!”. Said Cregan

“We told them we couldn’t talk and then Ben uploaded a photo with Margaery Tyrell”

They shared concerned looks

“Are there any chances that they are angry… very angry… possibly contemplating calling back Oberyn Martell because they think we…”

“Yep”, answered Jace quickly

“Oh for the Gods!”, Cregan moaned, rubbing his face, “they hate us!”

“Nah, come on, they are… rational people… right?”, whined Jace, “they are not… criminally insane and go on a guy-kissing rampage only because we didn’t answer a text”

“You are right”, he said simply, “yes you are right, they are probably already in bed, and tired, you know, sunbathing is tiring, the sand like… steals your energy away, right?”

“Right! Right! Right!”

“Are you freaking out?”, asked Cregan

“No no, if anything we should be angry, they are not answering our texts… they are being childish!”

“Right!”

“Right, yes, because, what? They believe we stood a chance against Margaery and Jeyne? Like they would be remotely interested in us…?”, 

“Well… they did ask us where we were staying”, said Cregan between greeted teeth

“We are so screwed”, muttered Jace, “we didn’t even tell them, meaning… they at least made Oberyn send us a greeting… right?”

“Oh gods”

“They must be so angry Cregan, I don’t want to lose Sara! I love her”

“I don’t want to loose my girl either, I love her too…”, and then, at that fundamental moment, they stopped their neurosis to look at each other

“YOU LOVE HER!?”, asked at the same time

“And we didn’t even got to tell them!”, said Cregan

“Gods”

“They must be so angry right now…”

“We will fix it, alright? Nothing happened!”, Jace tried to assure himself 

. . . 

“My feet hurt!”, whined Sara, and you were thinking the same thing, you were probably bleeding inside your high heel sandals

You couldn’t find a cab, of course, so you were walking back to the hotel

“Mine too”

“I want to sleep in that magnificent bed, I want to talk to my boyfriend”, she whined

“Me too”, you agreed

“Do you have your tablet? From there we can let them know our phones got stolen”

“Yes, and we need to get new ones in the morning”, you muttered, whining about your aching feet, “shouldn’t have we gotten there by now?”, you asked, looking around

“Yes, actually, the ride there was straight down the road, and then left..”, muttered Sara, “so naturally…”

“No, no it wasn't left, it was right, the side of the beach was the right”, you said

“Yes but remember the roundabout of the hotel? Makes you think that you are on the right, but it’s actually left”

‘I don’t understand”, you muttered, you looked around, and nothing looked similar, “no…”

“What?”, she asked

“We have been walking the wrong way!”, you whined

“Noooo!”

“YES!” 

“DANG ITTTTT”

You were turning around, to go the other way, but suddenly… the most majestic sports car turned around the curb, and stopped right by your side

You couldn’t believe your eyes, it was actually Oberyn!

“Can’t believe my eyes! The northerner girls!”, he said, he wasn’t alone, he was accompanied by a gorgeous woman

“Hello Oberyn”, Sara greeted with the greatest smiled

“What are you doing here alone? Shouldn’t you be partying? Taking advantage of this beautiful city and its night life?”

“Yes we were but our phones got stolen, we couldn’t order a cab to go back to our hotel”, you said with a shy smile

“Say no more, get in”, he invited, the woman just looked at you and smiled… not kindly, but… it was nice nonetheless

You were going to say now, but if you took two more steps on those ridiculous shoes you decided to wear, you were going to cry

You shared looks with Sara and got in

“This is Ellaria… my wife”, he introduced

“WHAT!?”, you both asked at the same time, both relaxed and happy

“Nobody knows you have a wife!”, said Sara

“I know!”, he said with a big smile, she looked back at you both

“So, these are the girls you talked to me about, asking you to send a video to their boyfriends”, said for the first time Ellaria, she had this seductive, smooth voice, with the characteristic Dornish accent, and you couldn’t get over how beautiful she was

 “Yeah! exactly, where did you say they are? Why aren’t they here with you!?”, he asked, almost scandalised, and he turned on his sports car and you started sliding through the streets of the Seaside resort of Sunspear… The Watergardens, “you know they do call this city… the city of love”, he giggled 

“They wanted to do a roadtrip of the North, we are going to meet in the God’s Eye”, you said softly

“Oh, Riverland, nice”, he said, “I heard there is a festival there at the middle of summer, it was quite the event”

“Really?”, you asked

“Oh yeah, it was quite fun, the Lake Party, but it’s been a bore for the last couple of years”, contributed Ellaria

“Yeah, maybe we should go”, said Oberyn, Ellaria smiled

“Maybe we should”, she teased, “we can make it matter again”, they shared this significant look, like there was nothing else in this world but them, they were so in love, you could tell, they were both beautiful. It was barely a second, he was driving, but still…

You felt joy when you watched them, but… not envy or nothing like that, you…

Were watching what is what like to be with Cregan

Oh how you loved him

Wait… WHAT!?

“Here you are ladies”, he said happily, pulling the car to the hotel’s entry, it was of no surprise he knew which hotel it was, you had met at the club this morning

“Thank you so much Oberyn!”, Sara said

How could this happen? you were with one of the greatest stars of the century, and you only cared about Cregan, and how much you wished he was there with you.

“Let’s take a picture for the socials”, said Ellaria, taking a selfie with you both on the back seat and Oberyn and Ellaria smiling, “I’ll upload it, what are your users?”, she asked

You gave them your social media data, you couldn’t believe this was happening

“Thank you so much, both of you, thank you!”, you said with a grateful smile, “It would be so amazing if we meet again in the Lake!”

“So we can finally meet this boyfriends of yours”

“There must be something in the air, they met Margaery today, and Jeyne”, Sara told them, they shared concerned looks

“Really?”, and then they both looked back at you

“What?”, asked Sara

“Nothing, i’m sure it went well”, said Oberyn

“Oh come on!”, you said to him, “now i’m concerned”

“No!”, said Ellaria, sharing looks and kept repeating like a mantra, “no no no no”

“Ok you look for the picture… is under @BenTallheart999”, you commanded, she looked it up, his account was public, and saw the picture

“Oh, they are delicious!”, she adored

“Hey!”, teased Oberyn, with a big goofy smile, “You know what? let’s discuss this in the bar”

He was so chaotic and funny, you actually went to the hotel bar, you ordered drinks and snacks, and you spent two hours talking about Cregan, and Jace, and their relationship, they were actually giving you advice.

“I think you both need to downplay it, making them wait, and always be on guard”, said Ellaria, “that is how I caught this one!”, she teased pointing at Oberyn

“NOT TRUE!”, he said, “and no!”, he said pointing at you in warning, “it’s clear that these boys feel the same, jump all in!”

“NO!”, fought Ellaria, “you don’t want to give them the power”

“What if… now that we are not answering… they actually go somewhere with that pair of international stars!”, Sara said, concerned

“They will not!”, said Oberyn

“But we have barely talked since we parted ways!”, you said

“Because they are on a road trip! And you are in the pool or beach all day”, he tried to reason, “they understand, you understand, right?”

It was such a chaotic and wild night, you will definitely remember it

You went back to your room, your godmother probably asleep, in her own suit

You almost threw yourself on top of your tablet, and logged into your account

Messages started pouring in, and hundreds of requests to being followed since, of course, OBERYN MARTELL HAD TAGGED YOU ON A PHOTO

And you had several messages of Cregan

Hey love, are you alright?

Haven’t heard from you in a while”

Is everything alright?

I don’t want to sound… or actually… seen controlling but, we are getting a bit worried

Maybe you are sleeping

I miss you

The last text reached you like twenty minutes ago, so you texted back quickly

Cregan! I never meant to worry you, Sara and I went for a drink in a nearby club, and our phones got stolen!

We are back in the hotel

You won’t believe who brought us back!

Oberyn Martell again! AND HIS WIFE, it was bananas

Are you guys alright?

“Give me!”, demanded Sara, and you gave her the tablet, and she logged in her own account

“A couple of  concerned messages from Jace”, she muttered

I swear nothing happened with Margaery, or Jeyne, they were great, but nothing happened

Are you angry?

Please don’t be…

I miss you terribly

Please give us a sign that you are alright

“We need to talk to them”, you said

But for tonight? You went to sleep, you were so, so tired

The very next morning, over orange juice, and a big breakfast… you both decided to call Cregan and Jace

“Hey loves!”, as soon as you saw them, you felt relieved.

“Hey girls!”

“We miss you!”, said Jace

You were placed next to Sara, and you couldn’t wait to tell them everything that had happened over the last days, they had been so chaotic

“Our phones got stolen last night!”, you said quickly

It was all fine, and you couldn’t believe you ever doubted them, they were Jace and Cregan, your boys! You only needed to talk to them, Oberyn was right…

It was all good

So… it was so good, you spent the next few days enjoying the pool, the beach, your godmother, eating in the most delicious restaurants, and having the time of your life, taking a long breath of fresh air… 

Recharging your batteries after life-altering decisions you had made this year… and especially… to make you think about what you wanted, and where you wanted to go… 

And who you wanted to go with you

Cregan

Sara

Jace

Your Godmother, the most important people in your life, and this trip helped you realise that, you were so, extremely happy

You wanted to enjoy those days with your godmother, she invited you here, she wanted to see you, it was mean of you to want to leave because Cregan wasn’t here, so… you were here now, and you enjoyed it to the last second.

Sara, who had never been outside of the North, was seeing everything for the first time and it was so refreshing! She was extremely grateful, and you talked to the boys everyday for an hour about everything they did that day

They were excited, they learned how to properly see a map, because they didn’t want to rely on their phones as much, they sometimes stopped to camp, yes, actually camp, set a campfire, and roast marshmallows, they say they were practising for the summer at the lake, because you were going to have a lot of that.

This was only just beginning

After chapter notes: Oberyn Martell in this universe is like… if Jackie Chan had a lovechild with Robert Downey Jr’s Tony Stark 😂

Sorry if it wasn't that exciting... perhaps I'm saving myself for the next one

TAGLIST!

@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata @watercolorskyy @yazzzmints @n4tforlife @littleshadow17 @alexa4040 @speedyballoonpainter @hc-geralt-23 @rayrayredpanda @eralen @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @iloveallmyboys @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm @ttkttt @aleemendoza2425-blog @drwstarkeyy @casualfansoul @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bruher @@toms-cherry-trees @happinessinthebeing @warmness0ul @jennifer0305 @missusnora @a-beaverhausen @snowtargaryen @qu44nbl4ck @juhdoche

#misguidedneed #cregan x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon

[fairysluna]

the wolf's cage.

After being captured by the Northerns, you found yourself with the Lord of Winterfell whose strange politeness makes you doubt his true intentions.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Wildling!Reader.

TAGS — smut (p in v, m!oral, spanking, use of the word whore, face fucking, hate sex(?, dirty talk, degrading/praise, belly bulge), cursing, mentions of war, blood and bruises, kind of enemies to lovers, dilf!cregan, and idk if this counts as dark!cregan but I'll add it just in case. If something is missing let me know!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — it's the first time that i write smut after a very long time, and i wrote this in a rush, so it's not perfect but i loved it anyway bc i fell in love with this trope. Reader is loosely based on Osha from GoT. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED.

WORD COUNT — 5.3k. (oh damn)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

“We found her close to the Godswood,” one of the men said. “She was hiding and preparing herself to kill, my lord.” 

Cregan walked slightly closer to you, his curiosity peaking when he noticed how small you looked curled up in a corner of your cell, covered by thick pieces of fur. Your face was stained with dirt and dried blood. His men had told him you were a menace, but after looking at you, he didn't believe it. 

“She seems harmless,” he pointed out, kneeling beside you. 

“She is not, my lord. She's responsible for the death of three of our men,” the same man explained. They were all in combat position; holding the hilt of their swords just in case you would dare to attack their leader. Cregan, however, seemed to be unafraid, getting closer to you and trying to see more of you. He was certainly intrigued.

How was a young girl like you able to kill a group of ruthless men? 

He raised his hand and gently pulled a strand of your hair out of your face; he saw a scar on your cheek and a cut on your lip. Then, you met his eyes with yours. Your cold and mercenary haze did little to intimidate him. You were finally in the presence of the man you hated the most; the man who had killed your people in cold blood. He could see your wrath burning through your haze, and he understood it. 

With his thumb, he removed the drop of blood that was dripping from your lip — a soft touch that felt so foreign to your skin. He attempted to do it again, but you moved your face away and he knew it was enough. With a sigh, he stood up casting a large shadow over your smaller frame; you looked down at the floor, ignoring his penetrating stare on you before he turned around and walked out of the cell. 

“Tell a maid to give her a bath, then bring her to the dining room,” he ordered. 

“My lord, I don't think-”

“Tell the cooks to make a meal for two, and tell a maid to keep Rickon out of my room tonight,” he abruptly interrupted him, the guard was left in surprise. 

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I do not think it’s a good idea at all,” The maester advised him, talking in whispers so you would not hear a word. “I believe that being in a room alone with that savage would put your life at risk. We cannot afford that, not when we're in the middle of an imminent war.” 

Cregan turned to give one more look at you before one of the guards locked your cell again. You looked so fragile, and you were probably starving after spending days in the merciless Winter cold. He knew you would not be such a threat in such a condition, so he did not follow his loyal Maester’s advice.

“The decision has been made,” he spoke as he started to walk away from the dungeons. The old man quickly followed his pace. 

“I would advise you to make some double thinking about your decision-” 

“Are you questioning my methods?” His voice came out low and slow, but it carried a bit of an intimidating undertone that was easy to catch. The Maester took a step back when his superior turned around; his Lordship was an imposing man, tall and with wide shoulders and some grey eyes that would pierce through your soul. Lord Stark was a kindhearted man, but whenever he was angry he was unrecognisable. 

And the Maester trembled when he saw a small glimpse of his anger. 

“Of course not, but it is my duty as your advisor to give you the best options… risking your life it's certainly not.” 

“That girl is craving for a meal, I will not let her starve,” he grunted. “Besides, I might steal some valuable information from her. She's just a girl, and she's unarmed. She will do no harm.” 

The old man simply nodded, knowing that it was a lost battle and not having the guts to continue to defy his lord. Cregan cleared his throat, repeated the instructions and then turned around to leave his men behind. They shared confused looks, doubting his plan and how unusual it was for him to have mercy with the people of your kind. This new and sudden sympathy towards you raised suspicion among the northern guards, but they were all too afraid to speak up. 

They just obeyed the orders of their Lord. 

Cregan was tapping his fingertips against the table, patiently waiting for your arrival as he was blankly staring at his half-empty cup of wine. The only sound that was heard was coming from the fireplace, and the rest of the room was deadly silent. He was wondering how much time would it take for you to arrive when two guards opened the door, and two others were carrying you inside. They were grabbing your arms, tight enough to leave a bruise behind. Cregan stood up the instant you showed up, and, with a slight nod from him, you were freed from their grip. 

Lord Stark took the time to look at you, shamelessly glancing at every inch of your body. He noticed how your skin was glowing now, freed of any stain or impureness on your face, except for that scar on your cheekbone that seemed to be quite recent. Regardless of that, you were such a sight for his eyes, so pretty and young and fierce all the same. The glow in your eyes was still yelling your hate for him and, somehow, that would make you even more appealing to him. He followed the trail down your neck and found your bossom being squeezed by the dress which looked a bit too small for you, but that fit your body like a glove; shaping your curves and enhancing them, he had to take a deep breath after seeing you. 

All the beauty that was previously hidden under thick layers of clothes and dirty hair and face was now starting to show.

“You can leave now,” he indicated to the guards. They nodded and followed his orders immediately. 

Once they were alone, Cregan pointed at the chair on the other side of the table, inviting you to take a seat. You were reluctant, staring at the large amount of food with distrust; you thought this was a trap, no one ever invites their foes to supper. You did not obey him at first, standing still in your place, using a pair of borrowed shoes that were almost crushing your feet and making you feel like walking on burning coal. 

You knew one thing for sure; you needed to get out of there as soon as you could. Or, better yet, you had to kill that man. 

“Please, be seated,” he spoke so softly and politely that you could not believe it. It was so blatantly obvious. “The pork it's better when it's warm.” 

A glance at the table and you saw your plate already served; this did nothing but increase your mistrust. However, you walked towards the spot, slowly and with your guard up. The sound of your shoes clacking on the wooden floor as you made your way to your seat until you finally sat. 

Then, a silence fell over the room. Cregan's eyes seemed to never look away from you as he raised his cup and brought it to his lips. You nervously played with your cup, already filled with wine. 

“I gave myself the liberty to fill your cup,” he said. 

Besides that, your plate was full of beans, pork, carrots and mashed potatoes. Everything was already cut into tiny pieces, and only then did you realize you only had a spoon; no knife, and no fork. 

“Is wine not of your taste?” Cregan asked after your long silence. “Would you rather have some ale? or juice?” 

Nothing came out of your mouth. Cregan was losing his little patience, but he knew better and he stayed calm. Upsetting you would only make things worse. 

“You might be wondering why I spared your life today,” he started, attempting a two-sided conversation. “If you were any other, your head would be in a spike by now… but you might be useful for us.” He made a pause, sipping his wine so delicately and manly. Then he added, “For me.”

Again, no answer. 

“I believe you have valuable information that would help us to understand your people better,” he explained, trying to sound likeable and friendly, even giving you a warm smile. “Maybe that way we'll understand your reasons.” 

“Why would I give information to the one who's murdering my people?” You finally spoke. 

Cregan heard your thick northern accent and a smile was drawn on his face. He hid the gesture by grabbing his fork and knife and cutting a piece of meat before putting it inside his mouth. You realized that contrary to you, he had a knife; you wondered how you could reach it without him noticing.

“Ah, so you can speak,” he claimed, cheerfully. “For a moment I thought you were mute.” 

“I am not,” you grunted.

“You could stop an imminent war, you know?” He continued the previous conversation. “Save the lives of your people, avoid a bloodbath.” 

“You are the only one causing those things, my lord,” the mocking tone in your voice when you uttered the last two words was obvious. “This war carries your name.” 

“You are the ones taking over our lands,” he debated. 

“We're escaping,” you snapped. “You have no idea what's beyond that wall. You and your men would do the same in our position.” 

“And what is it that's up there with all of you?” 

“You wouldn't believe my words. You'll have to see it.” 

He hummed, not convinced at all. He leaned back on his chair. 

“How did you get that scar on your face? It looks quite recent,” he slightly narrowed his eyes. 

“An accident while climbing the wall,” you simply explained, not wanting to give out too many details. 

“When did you cross it?” 

“A few weeks ago.” 

“And what have you been doing all this time?” 

“I already told you… trying to survive.” 

Cregan clicked his tongue, sipping his wine once more and letting the topic go. “You haven't touched your food,” he pointed out. “Nor your wine. The cooks work hard on this food.” 

“I'm not hungry.” 

“It's not poisoned,” he let you know as if you would believe his mere words. “If I ever kill you it wouldn't be with a drop of venom, that it's not an honourable way to murder your opponent.” 

“Honour,” you repeated with a mocking tone. 

“Does that word sound funny to you?” 

“It does when it's you saying it,” you muttered, clenching your jaw. “You have the blood of innocents in your hands, you have no honour.”

The tense environment was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Soon, a small child entered the room and ran towards Cregan; it was his son, his spitting image standing right next to him. His weakness. You looked closely, and you noticed how Lord Stark's demeanour was briefly replaced by a softer one when he held his child in his arms, only to get angry again when one of the maids walked in rushing behind the boy. You were observant, and then quickly an idea of escape lighted up your mind. 

“I apologize, Lord Stark,” the maid murmured, shaking and breathing unevenly. “Little Rickon wanted to say goodnight and he ran away from his chambers-” 

“Don't let it happen again,” he stopped her before she could go on with her explanations that were of little interest to his Lordship. “Just take him to bed, and don't let this happen again.” 

“Yes, my lord.”

He kissed the child's forehead and hugged him one last time before the maid pulled his arm and took him away. The boy was looking back at his sire with saddened eyes as he walked, and once he was out of sight, Cregan was back to his tough facade. However, you knew new information, and now you knew exactly how to manage to escape.

“Was that your child?” 

“Indeed,” he nodded. 

“Beyond the wall, children are taught to fight and hunt from a very young age,” you randomly told him. “Does he know how to do that?” 

“He's still learning.” 

“How old is he?” 

“We are not here to talk about my child,” he snapped, growing impatient with each passing second. 

You stopped, only for a brief second to let it rest and prepare yourself for the next thing. The suddenness of your next question left him speechless.

“Where's his mother?” You noticed how he tensed, clenching his jaw and forming a fist with his hand. There it is. “Is she around?” 

His silence gave you the answer you were expecting, you had to hold back a smile.

“Let me guess,” you murmured, “Childbirth?” 

His fist smacked against the table and you noticed how all the plates jumped due to the impact. He stood up, fuming, all the kindness and politeness vanishing from his body as he lost his patience with you. Yet, you did not seem fazed by his roughness, you barely flinched. You stood up too and slowly started to walk around the table, to get closer to him. 

“I bet your nights might be lonely now that you've lost your wife,” A false tone of empathy was heard in your voice as you kept taking step after step. “Does your bed feel empty at night?” 

“That's enough,” he growled. 

“You dressed me, bathed me and fed me… perhaps you're trying to convince me to stay by your side,” you deduced, using your seduction skills to distract him from the fact that you were getting closer to the knife on the table. “Is this your intention? To make me yours? To turn me into your whore?” Your voice lowered itself a few tones, getting raspier and more seductive.

You reached his side, his eyes were stuck on your face as his breathing was starting to get faster with each second. You saw his jaw, sharp as the knife you were trying to grab, and tensed as he tried to hide his growing arousal. Of course, he has noticed your attributes before, and of course, he had secretly —and shamelessly— fantasized about ripping your dress to see what was underneath, but now your words would only make his struggle grow. 

Perhaps the Maester was right. Perhaps this was a bad idea. 

“Have you heard what they say about the women from the Free Folk?” You were teasing him, boldly raising your hands until they went to his thick coat and untied it; it fell around his leather shoes, and only a thin shirt was beneath it. Your eyes glanced at him, noticing the chest hair on his skin as your hands felt the hardness of his abdomen; years of training with the sword had certainly made its effect. “People say we're difficult to handle, but that we fuck like goddesses. Wouldn't you want to try it out?”

One of your hands travelled lower and lower until it was able to feel the shape of his growing cock in your palm and through his pants. A winning smile appeared on your lips. His growing lust did not allow him to see the moment when your hand took the knife. Luckily for him, his reflexes were quite fast, and he was able to stop your hand right before you almost stabbed his neck. Your eyes widened as he grabbed your wrist and turned your body around, slamming you against the table. He pressed himself against you, your dress now ruined with the food beneath your frame. 

Cregan's hand grabbed a big portion of your hair and pulled it back, roughly, forcing you to arch your back. You could not help but whimper due to the pain in your skull. His breathing soon reached your neck and caused shivers down your spine; it smelled like wine. 

“You little whore,” he mocked you, “you thought you could've killed me?” 

His voice was completely different to the one you have heard before; it was almost like a growl, so deep, slow and hoarse. You would be lying if you said you did not find it amusing. His touch was rough and lacking the gentleness and delicacy that it had hours ago when he wiped the blood off of your lip. 

“It was worth the try,” you breathed out, laughing at him when you felt his arousal pressing against your arse. 

“What's so funny, huh?” he grunted, pulling you harder and making you hum. “I could kill you right here, right now,” he threatened. 

“But you won't,” you murmured. 

“That's right,” he mumbled, breathing in your scent. Even after taking a bath you still smelled of pine tree, it was an intoxicating smell. “I will prove your word first. Let's see if the wildlings whores fuck like goddesses, mhm?” 

Your eyes widened when you felt his hand freeing your hair and going towards the skirts of your borrowed dress. He lifted them, holding them in place on your waist behind your back. He saw how your pussy was already starting to glisten with your arousal, even when he had barely touched you beforehand. His cock twitched inside his pants when he noticed that all of this was because of his rough touch. 

You filthy slut, he thought. 

You heard a soft stump on the floor as his pants fell down his thick legs. It did not take too much time for you to feel his leaking tip brushing against your folds, spreading them open and smearing your slick all over it. You had to bite your lip, holding back a gasp as he teasingly rubbed against your clit; this was certainly not what you were expecting, but it felt good enough to make you want more. 

Slowly, he started to make his way inside you, grabbing your arsecheeck with his free hand and spreading it only to see your needy cunt taking him. Cregan gasped, your soft walls were wrapping around him perfectly, squeezing him just right and creaming all over him. He hummed in delight as he felt your legs already starting to shake. Gods, he was big, stretching you out as of you were a fucking maiden, providing you with that sweet pain that made your eyes close. 

When he was halfway in, he pushed himself all in with a single thrust. His head touched that sweet, spongy spot inside of you. “Fuck!” you cried out, involuntarily spreading your legs further, at the same time your hands pushed all the plates and cups away from your side. It all ended up spilt on the floor. 

He remained there for a few seconds, still inside of you and not moving an inch. Cregan's hand reached for your hair once again, pulling it back until your back was pressed against his chest and his lips were brushing against your ear. His breathing was ragged and unsteady; his tongue licked his lips as they started to get dry. You were able to feel him, his veins pulsing inside of you as he would twitch each time you clenched around him. Cregan hummed against your ear. 

Without warning, his hips started to move and your legs suddenly felt as weak and giggly as jelly. Your hands gripped the border of the table as his movements started to increase his pace. He was filling you up so good, so deep. You found yourself murmuring senseless words as you slowly started to lose your mind, which was a weird thing for you; you would usually be the one in charge. 

Though you did not mind submitting to him for a while. All your morality was soon gone, and all thanks to the man whose cock was good enough to make you forget about how much you hated him.

His hips started to meet yours with more force, thrusting hard but slow. It was just the beginning, and he wanted to make sure you would feel every inch of him, to feel every vein. All while he was also losing his mind over how good your pussy was taking him; your tight grip around him was sending him to the heavens, his eyes never looking away from the place where both of your bodies would join. Your walls contracted around him whenever he was pulling out, almost as if they were reluctant to let him go. Cregan loved that a bit too much, he might have become addicted to it. 

Then, he sped it up. His grunts and moans were falling from his lips in cascades that reached your ears. A vocal man he was, expressing his lust with the most arousing sounds you have ever heard. It brought a sense of pride to your chest, having such an imposing man as him reduced to a moaning mess. But the truth was, you were not doing any better; his animalistic movements were now sending you over the edge quicker than you thought. The sound of your bodies slapping against each other and the feeling of your arousal falling down your thighs was enough to pull you into a cloud of raw lasciviousness. Your mind felt dizzy. 

Suddenly, Cregan grabbed the knife you were trying to reach and threw it right next to your hand. You saw it through your heavy eyelids as you panted and gasped. You felt his lips pressing against your ear once again, but this time he spoke,

“Try to kill me now,” he hoarsely said. “Go on. Where's the girl who tried to kill me? Not so brave now with my cock ripping you apart, huh?” 

“Fuck off…” you managed to say in a murmur. Cregan mockingly laughed, and his hand fell against the soft skin of your rear, leaving a pinching pain behind. Gods, you hated the fact that you loved it so much.

“So fiery, and yet you're a mess…” he chuckled, his heavy breathing against your nape making you tremble under his touch. “I wish you could see how your little cunny is taking my cock… you're fucking soaking for me.” 

You moaned, louder than you should have. 

“Want to take a look?” he teased you, pushing deeper inside of you. You tried to mumble an answer, but nothing came out of your mouth. His hand met your arse again, this time slightly harder. “Answer me,” he demanded, using his lower tone which made your knees go weak. 

You had no choice, “Y-yes…” you whimpered as tears of pleasure were gathering in the corner of your eyes. 

He pulled out of you and you immediately whined, complaining about his absence. His hands went to the ties on the back of your dress, starting to pull them out to get them loose enough to remove that piece of fabric that was just bothering him. When he finally did, he pulled it down in a single movement, and just like that you were completely exposed to him. 

He took a quick look at your body once you turned around, glancing at your breasts and your perky nipples, and then looking at the glistening mess between your thighs. His hand wrapped around your jaw, and he leaned forward; his leaking cock rubbing against your belly as his nose touched your cheek. Suddenly, his lips trapped yours in a heated kiss that lacked any delicacy; he was claiming your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and devouring you. You heard how he pushed the rest of the dishes, plates and cups on the ground, then he lifted your body forcing you to spread your legs. Only then he pulled away. 

He looked down, watching your pussy drenched with your arousal and chuckling at the sight. “Didn't know wildlings women were such whores… getting this wet when I fuck you rough,” he mocked you, tightening the grip around your jaw and forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

Cregan guided his cock towards your slit, repeating the same teasing game as before, rubbing his tip against your now throbbing clit soaking it with the mixture of your juices and his. He gave a few taps afterwards, making you whine and your legs shake. You never, in a million years, thought you would be thinking of begging a Lord like him, yet there you were, about to plead to have him inside of you once again because the ache between your thighs was becoming unbearable. 

As if he had read your thoughts, he soon pressed his cockhead against your entrance, pushing just the tip. You sighed, biting your lip as you looked down at it. You could have come right there as you saw how he slowly filled you up and stretched your walls once more. The way your labia would spread to take him in; such an obscene sight it was, yet you couldn't bring yourself to take your eyes off of it. 

Once he was fully sheathed in you, you managed to perceive a small bulge forming in your lower belly which would appear each time he would bury himself deep inside of you. He did not take too much time to be rough this time, starting to snap his hips against yours and making you moan and drool until your mind was fully gone once again. His big hands were grabbing your hips, his nails digging into your flesh and making it slightly painful for you; yet, you didn't want it to stop. The sound of him entering your wetness was enough to make you mumble nonsense, and it wasn't long before you managed to see a ring of your juices around the bottom of his shaft. Your eyes rolled back. 

His animalistic movements were sending you over the edge, and it was humiliating how loud your cries of pleasure were; you were certain that they could be heard in the hallway, but neither you nor Cregan cared enough to stop. Both of you were consumed by each other's touch, it was rough and passionate, you could feel the heat running through your veins as he possessed every inch of your insides until you were nothing but a moaning mess. Your skin was glowing with a layer of sweat, and Cregan leaned forward to lick on your collarbone, his tongue creating a path to your breasts; his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and nibbling. You grew desperate for release. 

“Fuck- I need to… I'm so close,” you whimpered, your eyes locking with his. 

“Come on,” he hoarsely murmured. “Show me how good of a whore you are, and make a mess on my cock.” 

His words blurred your mind, sending a stimulus right into your core. You felt that sweet sensation of culmination when he touched your most sensitive point inside of you over and over again until you were sobbing with the tears of pleasure gathering in the corners of your eyes as you felt your release exploding and washing over you until your legs felt sore. You felt weak, trembling and overwhelmed. Your hair was sticking at your forehead due to your sweat and you were far gone into the pleasure he had just provided you. Yet, he seemed to not have enough. 

Lord Stark pulled out of you. His length had a layer of your release coating it, and you felt your cheeks grow warm. It was unusual for you to feel this shy in this situation, but this whole thing was something rather unusual and rare. Sleeping with the biggest foe, you were a traitor now. 

But Gods, it felt so damn good.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered. His hand wrapped around his leaking cock stroking himself, legs slightly parted as he looked at you with darkened eyes filled with lust. He was achingly hard, you could tell; his stones seemed heavy with his seed, which you would rather feel inside of you. 

Yet, you obeyed, kneeling and looking up at him through your lashes. He cursed with a sigh, twitching with the lustful sight of you ready to take him once again. 

“Open wide,” he instructed, brushing his cockhead against your swollen lips. You did what you were told. “Wider,” he demanded, and you obeyed again. “That's a good little whore…” he hummed, content. 

You stuck your tongue out and felt his salty taste as he tapped his cock against it. You moaned, and he grabbed the sides of your face to keep you still as he started to move in and out of your mouth. He groaned, looking up and then back at you; such a skilful little minx you were, taking him so well. 

Soon, your gags were echoing in the room along with your gulps and his moans. You were drooling; your saliva running down the corners of your lips as he fucked them as fast and hard as he pleased. 

“There you go, take it all just like that,” he praised you, and you felt the warmth of the tears falling down your cheeks. “Mhm, fuck. I might start to believe what they say now. You're sucking my cock like a fucking goddess…” 

You felt the back of your head pressing against the border of the table as he sped up. You were choking around him, and the sounds that came out of it were obscene and filthy, and Cregan loved it. 

Before you could tell, he spilt himself inside of your mouth, forcing you to swallow every drop that left him. And you did. 

Once he freed you from his grip, you pulled away. A string of saliva was still hanging from your lips as you desperately gasped for air, and only then Cregan noticed the big mess you had become. Hot and soaked cheeks, eyes tearing up, your lips swollen and covered with his thick and pearly seed. You were such an unholy sight. 

His thumb reached for your lip, wiping your drool out of it. Such a gesture brought you back to that very same evening when he wiped the blood out of the cut in your lip. It did not feel foreign anymore. You were breathless, trying to regain composure as Cregan looked down at you with a satisfied glance. 

“Seems like the rumours are not false,” he muttered, starting to pull his pants up again. “I might keep you so that I can feel those pretty lips around my cock again.” 

“Keep- keep me?” you asked, confused and overwhelmed.

Cregan arched an eyebrow, “You think because I fucked you I will let you go?” he chuckled. You felt his hand wrapped around your jaw once again, forcing you to stand up. You trembled a little, feeling your legs shaky and weak. “So naive of you… to think that I would have a taste of you and then let you go.” 

You felt your heart sink inside your chest as you heard him. 

“Since you offered so nicely before, I will accept,” he sighed, picking up the dress you were wearing and throwing it up to you. “I’ll make you my personal whore, how about that?” You went silent. “Oh, come on, don't pretend this was not your idea… I was going to let you go with a warning but you came out with a better proposal. How could I say no?” 

“I don't- I-” you shook your head. 

“You belong to me now,” he chuckled. “A wildling made just for me to fuck as I please… Sounds perfect, does it not?” 

You look into his grey eyes, perceiving and reading the mischievousness in them. You tried to escape and return to your freedom. Instead, everything went wrong and now you were trapped in the wolf's cage once again. 

You were not sure how to feel about that.

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#cregan stark #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark fanfic #house of the dragon #house stark #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd fanfic

[gtgbabie0]

heyy!! i saw that your reqs are open ans i was wondering if i could ask for an "cregan stark x fem reader" in which the reader is giving birth but she ends up having complications during the birth (blood loss or the baby simply taking too long to come out) and she ends up being unconscious for a while... if that's not ok please ignore it, thank you!! <3

-Cregan Stark x reader

{The birth of your son Brandon Stark was nothing but stressful, and it makes Cregan face some horrible realisations}

CW// descriptions of blood/ reader is giving birth

Hope you enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

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It was early in the morning when it began. You were eating breakfast with Cregan when the sharp shooting pain erupted through your lower stomach, it took your breath away and you couldn’t help but reach over to clutch onto his arm with a gasp.

He stops mid-sentence as he watches your face contort with an awful look of discomfort, panic rising in his chest when your eyes meet his.

“My love? What is it?- what happened?” He asks, standing up from his chair. He helps you up, wincing as you scream out in pain. Cregan guides you to the bed his hand soothing your lower back in hopes it’ll relieve your discomfort, but his attempts are fruitless when he notices the tears that fall from your eyes and his heart drops.

You shake your head, squeezing your husband's hands as you try your best to ignore the blood that pools between your legs, “The maesters- please” You gasp between breaths and Cregan doesn’t need to be told twice as he rushes out the door.

It isn’t long before people start to barge into the room, orders being thrown around as the midwives lay you down on the bed pressing a cold wet towel on your forehead.

Your body aches as a hot flush wash over you, and every sensation is far too overwhelming, it certainly doesn’t help that your skin is sticky with sweat. You can hear Cregan outside your shared bedchambers before walking through the wooden door, much to the dismay of the nurses.

“What is happening?- please” his voice is strained and he can’t bear to look down at you, the sound of you hyperventilating is enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.

The maester looks up at him, “She has started her labour early lord Stark” he takes a deep breath, watching the worry that deepens within Cregan’s eyes, “You must let us work”

Hours have passed since then, the late afternoon sun is peaking behind the curtains and Cregan hasn’t left your side as your clammy hands squeeze his. He chokes back a sob every time you let out an agonising cry, your face pressed into the sweat-soaked pillow as you grit your teeth.

The nurses tell you when to breathe then push, breathe then push and you know for a fact that your body cannot handle much more pain, exhaustion is creeping through your already weak body.

“Almost there lady Stark, almost there” one of the nurses promises, as she switches your cold rag for a new one, and Cregan doesn’t miss the worry in her eyes as she glances down to the blood-soaked sheets beneath you.

“You hear that my love? Almost there” He leans down to press a kiss to your damp hairline, pushing back the wet strands.

His thumb caresses the space under your eye, wiping your tears away as he holds your cheek. “I can’t- Cregan I can’t” you sigh, trying your best to smile up at him.

He shakes his head, pressing his forehead against yours “Yes you can. You are the strongest woman I know” he whispers.

You nod, taking a deep breath before squeezing your eyes shut, pushing one last time as the nurses and maesters all shout praises. “A boy!” You hear someone gasp but they seem miles away, and then you hear your baby cry as the midwives move quickly to clean him, wrapping him up in a clean blanket.

The noise of the room seems to bleed together, muffled as if you were underwater and with it goes your sight, then everything seems to stop and for a moment, for the first time in the last seven hours, there is clarity and the ache in your body ebbs away as your eyes flutter close.

The moment your grip on Cregan's hand loosens his heart stops, and the sight of your limp body covered in sweat makes his whole world come crashing down. He can’t think straight and the feeling only grows stronger as his eyes drift to the blood-stains all over your legs and bedsheets.

There’s a lump in the back of his throat that chokes him, and all the words he wants to say, needs to say, die on his tongue.

“My wife- is-” he isn’t able to finish the sentence as the Maester hands him his son, his cries hit Cregan's ears, a painful reminder that no matter what happens to you he has to carry on, a harsh reality that he can’t bare to face.

Before he has time to even look down at his child he’s already being whisked away from his arms, wet nurses attending to him. It’s almost as if the world has slowed down, and he can’t breathe.

“She has lost a lot of blood, my lord,” The maester says, his tone soft and gentle as he cleans up, taking out some strong-smelling herbs. “The best we can do is let her rest, if she doesn’t wake within the hour hold this under her nose” he nods about to leave the room.

“She’ll live?” Cregan's voice is weak as he gently holds your hand.

“Of course my lord, as you said, she is a strong woman” he smiles before leaving the room, and it’s only when the door closes that his tears fall so effortlessly from his eyes, and he pleads to any Gods who are willing to listen to him that you’ll be okay.

Cregan doesn’t leave your side once as the hours pass by. His hand gently lays over the top of your heart. The feeling of it beating beneath his palm gives him hope. He gently pushes your hair back, tucking the strands behind your ear as he waits on bated breath for you to wake up.

He watches your eyes flutter and immediately sits up, shuffling to sit closer to you. You groan something incoherent, but he can tell from the way you sound it’s out of nothing but pain. He’s quick to hush you, guiding you to lay back down, to your dismay.

“Y/n, please- relax, my love” he pleads with you as you grab ahold of his hand.

“Our son? Is he-?” You panic, voice hoarse as you try to sit up, ignoring the pain that seizes your body.

“He’s fine, I promise-” He whispers, watching your panicked eyes flicker frantically around the room, "But you, my love- please you need to rest” The way his voice trembles with worry makes you listen, that and the unbearable ache in your bones.

You look up at him, tears in your eyes as the heaviness of the situation finally weighs upon you. “I want to see him, please?” You whisper, and the hoarseness in your voice makes his heartbreak.

He wipes away the tears that fall from your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You will, I promise.” His voice calms your nerves. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? He’s not going anywhere” Cregan smiles as you nod.

“Okay. I do need a bath” You let out a raspy giggle, relief washing over you as Cregan chuckles beside you.

“Of course, my sweet wife” he smiles, his hand gently caressing your cheek before disappearing off, but not without looking back at you, a sad look clouded over his tired eyes.

The water is pleasantly warm against your skin, your hands grasping onto your husband’s shoulders as he helps you into the wooden tub. There’s a thick layer of silence that falls upon you both, it almost feels suffocating.

Cregan doesn’t mutter a word as he washes you. The water sloshing around, and the harsh wind is the only thing you can hear. It’s you who breaks the silence, catching his hands within your own.

You bring his hands to cup your face, “I’m okay. Cregan? Look at me, please?” You plead, noticing how he hasn’t been able to keep eye contact since you woke up.

There are tears that build up in his eyes, a dam of emotions that burst out of him. “I thought I lost you” he whispers, voice strained as he breaks down completely, the last hour finally catching up to him.

“But you didn’t Cregan, I’m right here” You don’t bother trying to hide your own tears, and he’s quick to wipe them away.

He leans to rest his forehead against your own, “I know” his voice is so quiet that if he were sitting any further, you wouldn’t be able to hear him, “But you almost weren’t, and I can’t live without you” he presses his lips against yours in a gentle, loving kiss.

“You don’t have to, I am right here, my love,” you tell him, kissing him once more before he pulls away. “I love you” you smile, as he goes to start washing your hair.

“I love you more… more than words could ever express” he finishes washing you. His touch is overwhelmingly gentle, so full of love that it makes your chest bloom with warmth.

The way his fingertips graze along your arms, how his lips feel as they press kisses along your shoulders. Small whispers of sweet nothings shared between you both in the candle-lit bathroom only ever to be heard by the pair of you.

You lean on Cregan like a crutch as he helps you from the bath, drying you off and changing you into fresh clean sleep clothes. Your bedchambers have been aired out by herbs and incense, and the bed sheets have been changed.

It feels so heavenly as you climb into bed. The sun was well and truly set. “I have a visitor for you” Cregan smiles, walking into the room with your son in his arms, wrapped in a blanket.

You gasp as he hands him to you. He stirs from his sleep with the movement. His tiny fingers wrap around your own as you admire him. “He’s perfect” You press a kiss to his forehead. Cregan sits beside you on the bed, the back of his fingers caressing his son's cheek.

“Brandon Stark” you whisper, looking over to your husband as he glances over at you with nothing but tenderness in his eyes.

You lean your head against his shoulder, smiling when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer, before pulling the sheets over your legs. “Brandon Stark” he repeats with approval, and you both chuckle as your son gurgles up at you with wide eyes.

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[asumofwords]

Unsought Betrothal - Part 2 - Part One Here

Dark!Aemond x Reader Velaryon x Cregan Stark

Summary: After attempting to humilate your betrothed by laying with Lord Cregan Stark the night before your wedding in the hopes that Aemond would call the wedding off, you find that not only is he determined to still wed you, but also to punish you for your indiscretions. Part One Here

Pairings: Dark!Aemond x Reader, Cregan x Reader, Cregan x Aemond

Warnings: Arranged marriage, threats of violence, acts of violence, forced voyeurism, dubcon, elements of noncon, naked reader, clothed men, fingering, finger fucking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, creampie, pussy eating, cum eating, degradation, praise, voyeur.

Word Count: 13k oops... sorry

Notes: Wow, whelp, its been a while since I have posted some of my writing, and even longer since I wrote the first part of this abomination, but when you get the urge, you just gotta scratch it. Thank you all for all your beautiful messages of kindness as usual, I'm sorry I've been gone a while. I have had a bit of a rough time this year but hopes for a brighter future! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, and I hope I can write again very soon for you, hehe ;) Enjoy! <3

The wedding came just as it was planned. Just as it was arranged. Sleep had evaded you, anger and confusion clouding your mind with memories of the night before, ache still throbbing between your thighs. Your little attempt at stopping the engagement had no affect on your betrothed. No affect on the uncle you had grown up with. On the man you would now call husband. 

You had thought that if you could humiliate Aemond in court by flirting with Lord Cregan Stark that he would call off the engagement. That the embarrassment would be too much for the pious prince. That the shame would turn him away from you, making him demand to his mother that they call off the engagement. 

You had thought that maybe if you lost your maidenhead to the Northerner, Aemond would be so disgusted, so filled with rage, that he would call the engagement off, what with him being a dedicated follower of the Seven. 

But you were wrong.

And so you spent an evening limping back into the Keep, escorted by none other than the One-eyed Prince himself and Ser Crispin. The front of your bodice had been ripped by Aemond's hands, but thankfully your hooded cloak covered up your sullied gown, the bottom of it dirtied with mud from where Aemond had bent you over in the alleyway and taken you roughly. With each step you took, you felt his seed slide down your legs, sticking to your inner thighs tackily. 

When you got to your chambers, you used the small basin at your dressing table filled with water to wipe and wash away the blood and seed from your body, pain and a lingering dull ache causing you to jerk with each swipe. 

You didn’t get much sleep that evening, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The urge to run was strong, to just leave out into the night through one of the secret passages and onto your dragons back, but the urge to stay was stronger. You hated him, truly hated him, but the way he had treated you that night, the fire in his eye, it lit something inside of you. It almost made you want him. 

Need him. 

Yet, there was another urge to stay, to make his life hell. To humiliate him at every turn, to ensure that he knew that forcing the engagement to continue would ensure him a life long marriage of discontent and disharmony. 

You were not going to bend to his will. You were not going to bend to his needs, to bow at the husband, and say ‘yes’, and ‘thank you’, and ‘please’. You were going to be who you have always been. 

A Valaryian. 

Your eyes stayed open, watching as the ceiling eventually became light with the sun, indicating the break of dawn, and soon enough your maids were entering your chambers to get you ready to be wed. You were thankful that none of them asked questions about the dirtied ripped gown, or the bloodied rag in the basin, though you knew they were likely already aware. 

The doors to your chambers opened as they pulled your hair back, pinning it atop your head in masses of braids with gold pins, tips glowing red with circular rubies. The colour of your mothers house dripping from you. Footsteps moved through your chambers, your head lifting to find Rhaenyra coming towards you, wearing a dress of black. Her silver hair half up, half down, small braids weaving around the back of her head beautifully. 

A soft smile pulled on her lips as she came towards you, causing you to turn in your seat to fully face her. She looked sad and also lovingly devoted all at once. And whilst you knew it was not her greatest wish to marry you off to her half-brother, you also both knew that it was the only way to prevent bloodshed.

“My sweet.” Rhaenyra cooed, a slender hand coming to brush against your cheek dotingly, the scar on her arm from Alicent peeking beneath the cuff of her dress.

Blood already shed.

“Muña.” You smiled back, pulling her hand down into your lap.

Your mother leant forward and placed a kiss atop your head, “You look so beautiful, my love.”

“Thank you, mother.”

“Are you ready?” Her tone was gentle, as though she didn’t wish to startle you. As though she didn’t want to break the bubble that was the safety of your chambers. 

The last time in your chambers as an unwed woman.

You gave her a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes, and she could see it, “I must be.”

The small smile she had worn slid away, “This is not what I had intended for you. I did not wish to force you as I had been. I wish-“

“-I know.” You squeezed her hand, “I understand. It is my duty as your daughter to be wed to the Hightower’s to prevent bloodshed and war. To ensure your ascension to the throne. Let me perform my duty for you.”

“You know that we love you.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand back, “Daemon has almost gone mad with rage. He does not wish to see you be wed to him. Luc feels that it is his fault.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from either of them.” You stood, still clutching her hand.

Her violet eyes roamed down your body. 

The dress you wore was similar to the one she had worn for her wedding to Laenor, white with gold and licks of red in the lining. The dress sat below your collarbones and drooped against your shoulders, pearlescent beads sewn onto the short sleeves like dragon scales with a red silk peaking underneath.

“I wish this could be different for you.” She came to your side, placing a white cloak atop your shoulders, the Velaryon House sigil embroidered on the back, readying you to leave your chambers.

You looped your arm in hers, steeling a breath before you gave her a confident smile, “I don’t.”

-

Your heart rattled in your chest as you tried to stop the anxiety that churned nauseatingly in your stomach. Your hand was clenched tightly against Daemons arm, who slowly walked you down the many tables filled with people towards the man who would soon be your husband. 

“Breathe.” Daemon cooed softly in your ear, his hand attempting to soothe you with soft brushes against yours. 

Your eyes had not once left Aemond, who watched you with a dark glare. 

The second son stood before the table, Viserys slumped behind him in his chair, the barest of smiles on his rotted face, half covered by a golden mask as you came towards them all. Your mother and Alicent sat on either sides of the King, followed by your brothers, your uncles, your cousins, and your aunt.

Aemond stood stiffly as he always did, the perfect posture with his shoulders back. He was higher on the stairs so that he looked down his nose at you, which wasn’t different to any other time he did. Each step towards him was nerve-wracking, the Lords and Ladies who had travelled far and wide watching you with keen eyes.

When finally you were standing before him, Daemon let go, coming to stand between you and Aemond momentarily, breaking your eye contact for the first time since you entered the room. Your uncle Daemon’s face was a kind one, and one you had grown to love as a step-father. He did not offer you a reassuring smile like your mother did, nor did he offer a consoling one. Instead, he leant forward to press a kiss to the side of your face before standing straight, towering over the both of you in both height and size before he moved back towards the table, sitting beside your mother. 

And so the ceremony began. 

In the light of the chambers Aemond looked sinister, shadows cast across his sharp face as he continued to look down his nose at you, chin still raised high. The Prince’s hair was styled in the way that it always was; straight and down his back, with two plain pieces pulled away from the sides of his face, tied neatly behind his head. He wore all black, the lining and undershirt the deepest of greens that was almost onyx. A symbol of his mother and her war that she had declared on a night such like this, many years ago. 

The room felt hot, the back of your neck sweating as you stared at each other, all eyes pinned on you as the Septon’s voice boomed throughout the room.

“Father, Mother, Warrior,” The old mans voice was so loud in your ear that you winced,  “Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Hear now their vows.”

You swallowed thickly, momentarily looking down at your hands before back into his sole lilac one, watching as his posture straightened further, surprised that he could even do so.

“I am yours, and you are mine.” Aemond’s voice dipped lower, “Whatever may come.”

Your throat felt dry, but your gut was filled with anticipation. You were frightened, but there was something else simmering beneath it all. A need for the danger he brought, a feeling of protection from him. Not from him and his anger, but from others.

A possessive desire.

The Septon looked at you impatiently to say your vows, and a small wave of quiet whispers spread across the room as you stood silently. The Prince shifted on his feet, muscles in his jaw clenching.

“I am yours,” You breathed softly, hands gripping each other tightly in front of your dress, “And you’re mine. Whatever may come.”

The purple of Aemond’s eye was half hidden by his lid, his gaze having softened at your short vow. You watched as the corner of his sharp lips twitched upwards lightly into a small smirk.

The Septon continued, “Here in the presence of Gods and Men, I proclaim Aemond of House Targaryen and Y/n of House Velaryon to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Man and Wife.

Wed to Aemond Targaryen. 

Your husband.

Now and forever.

An eruption of congratulatory joy spread throughout the room, the noise almost deafening as everyone celebrated what could be your demise. And though the noise around you was distracting, you could not look away from him, even as he shifted closer.

Aemond’s hand lifted and you flinched, the only people having noticed was your family seated behind you. His hand continued despite your shock to cup the side of your face and jaw, and as quickly as it happened, it ended. Aemond’s face grew closer as his eye slid shut, pressing his lips tenderly to yours in a brief moment before he pulled away, hand dropping back down to his side. The hand that had cupped your face grasped your hand for all to see, before he led you around to your seat at the table. 

-

The night of celebrations became a blur, too in shock to really enjoy yourself, but wine still flowing heavily. Most of your evening you spent ignoring your new husband, opting to speak mostly to your mother and brothers, as well as Daemon and his daughters, who threw you pitying smiles, yet words of encouragement. 

Aemond sat by your side, though he made no effort to join your conversations or create ones of his own. He had always been the quiet of his siblings, always sticking to the shadows and tomes of the library, never quite fitting in. 

Helaena leant forward towards you, Otto eyeing her warily whilst Alicent looked as though she was about to chastise her daughter. In your aunts hand was a beetle, all black, though when the light of the candles shone on his shell, it seemed to glow. Greens and blues, and purples and pinks, danced across the beetles wings as it crawled atop her hand. 

Your aunt had always loved insects, and had always been a sweet and kind person. You loved Helaena, and if there was anything that could help you endure living in the Red Keep alone without your family, it would be her. 

“He appears dark,” She breathed watching as it crawled through a gap in her fingers and back towards her palm, “But if you look closely, you’ll find that he’s not.”

You shuffled in your seat, your shoulder pressed to hers as you ducked your head to look closer at the beetle, “He’s quite beautiful.”

Healaena lifted her face towards you, as she smiled at you dreamily, “He is, if you let him.”

Frowning, you looked back to the beetle, “How do I let a beetle be a beetle?”

Helaena did not answer you, instead continuing to twist and turn her hand as the bug crawled around on it. 

Aegon watched from above the rim of his cup, drunk with red rimmed eyes. His hair was oily and wavy, unbrushed atop his round face. You could not help but feel a shiver crawl over you as he smiled.

“Our sweet niece and brother are finally married.” Aegon purred, Helaena barely giving him a second glance as though over the years she had attuned herself into pretending that he did not exist.

“A joyous occasion, uncle.” You smiled falsely back, picking up your own goblet of wine, ready to go back to talking with Helaena. Or the beetle.

Anything to escape Aegon.

“Do you know what happens tonight? After the celebrations of course.” Your uncles voice creeped along the surface of the table like a snake, so that only you and his siblings could hear. 

You swallowed thickly. 

Of course you did. 

You had done it last night.

Bar a bed. Or walls.

In fact, it wasn’t even in the Keep, and instead in a dirty alley in Flea Bottom, hidden amongst the shadows.

“I’m aware.” Your voice was clipped, which seemed to goad Aegon.

“And how does our sweet little niece know of such things?”

You swallowed thickly, head turning to look at Aemond, whose eye was trained on his brother.

“My Septa.” You tuned back to face him, “And your whoring.”

Aegon chuckled, filling up his goblet with wine once more, “I suppose then you know what to expect.”

“Yes.”

“Should you ever be in want of a demonstration-"

“-Leave her be.” Came Aemond’s voice, almost a growl. His hand was clutched tightly around his own goblet as he challenged his older brother to say something more. 

Aegon laughed loudly, eyes on his brothers clenched hand before looking up to watch him, “I only jest, brother! It is a night of celebrations!” He thrust his goblet towards the One-Eyed Prince, “It’s not everyday that my little brother is married off to such a beautiful princess. The daughter of the Realm’s Delight, no less. Do you think-“

Helaena shifted, turning her body towards you, “It isn’t so bad.” She spoke emotionlessly into your ear to distract you from Aegon, “It only hurts the first few times.” Your aunt paused in thought, lavender eyes still on the beetle as it moved, before looking at you, “Or when he’s angry. Or drunk.” She added as an afterthought, “But mostly when he’s drunk.”

Sorrow coursed through you for your aunt, your gaze immediately staring into Aegon’s angrily. How could he do this to her? How could he treat her like one of his whores? If not because she is his wife, but because she is his sister. Aegon seemed to sink into his chair after Helaena’s comment, soft anger simmering off of him in small waves.

But Aegon has never truly known when to stop.

“I am sure my brother here will barely draw blood.” 

“I am sure your interest in your brothers cock speaks loudly.”

Elbows sloppily placed on the table he leant towards you, “I tried to take him once you know, to a whorehouse.” His voice became more hushed, “He hated it. Made me think that maybe our dear Aemond was perhaps like your father, Laenor.”

Blinding rage shot through you, “Don’t speak about my father.” You hissed, “He was more man than you shall ever be.”

A cruel smirk pulled at Aegon’s lips, “I am sure he has had more men than I ever shall.”

Your hand shot forward to grasp your goblet, ready to hurl it across the table at him, peace be damned, but Aemond was quicker and snatched your wrist before the tips of your fingers could even reach the cup. 

A quiet fell over your table as all watched the interaction, your wrist in Aemond’s hand, Aegon smirking cruelly at you, and your face hot with anger.

“I pity you.” You quietly seethed, “Always so desperate to get a reaction out of the people around you, because if you didn’t you would simply cease to exist. Though you are the first son of Viserys, a peasant bastard from Flea Bottom would garner more respect.” 

Aegon’s gassed darkened, his mouth readying to fire back at you.

“Aemond.” Alicent called to her son, a questioning and yet chastising tone in her voice. 

Aemond looked at his mother, and then back to you, checking to see if you were going to continue on with your thought. But you had grown tired of the grip he had on you, his large hand squeezing your bones painfully as they shifted beneath the skin. 

“Don’t touch me.” You sneered at him, snatching your hand away as you stood, chair scraping loudly against the flagstones.

The throne room quietened, all stilling to watch as you stood at the table, seething down at your husband. The rest of your family all watched warily, except for the Rogue Prince who smirked broadly at you. Your chest heaved with anger as you looked down at Aemond, who stared up at you with similar rage. 

King Viserys sensing the tension smiled, though it looked more like a grimace, “Our young lovers wish to dance!” A distraction on his end, and a clever one at that. 

The room erupted into cheers and clapping, and the musicians in the corner began playing music loudly for all. Lords and Ladies stood from their seats and moved into the centre of the room to dance together.

Glaring down at your husband, your hands clenched into fists, waiting for him. Aemond slowly stood, towering over you, a large hand stretched out towards you, palm up. 

“Wife.”

“Husband.” You growled, taking his hand roughly, digging your nails into his skin as you led him down the stairs towards the people.

The court parted to the sides like a wave, creating a path for you straight to the centre as you lead Aemond down to it, almost like a dog. Each man and woman watched with excitement, either for the celebrations or the rising tension between the two of you. You’d be a fool to think that the court wouldn’t love a quarrel to arise so that they may whisper about it in corridors later to come. 

It could be a way to press the wound so to speak with Aemond later.

You stopped in the centre, finally letting go of your husband as you spun to face him. 

He stood as he always did, stiff, emotionless with a hint of arrogance, watching you with a cool glare. The court waited for you to begin, as the music continued to play, but even then you couldn’t push yourself to touch him. To feel his hands on you once more, alighting a fire within you that you did not know was possible, the embers still burning from the night before.

Would they be able to tell?

That he had already deflowered you in Flea Bottom?

In a dirty alley like one of Aegon’s whores?

In a way, you hoped they would. Let it bring him dishonour. Let it bring him humiliation from the court that his wife would take him in such a filthy, commoner way. You wished for his disdain, you wished for his anger, anything but the clear desire which seemed to move through him as he watched you from down his nose. 

“Well?” You snipped, waiting for him to make the first move.

Aemond came forward swiftly, much like he had in the alley, and you had to bite your cheeks to stop the gasp that would have escaped your mouth. 

It came to him so naturally to touch you, to hold you. One large hand immediately grasping yours by your side pulling it up, the other skating up your hip, over your collar bone, slowly down your shoulder, and down, down, down your arm. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin, a shiver running down your back as his other hand connected with yours, and slowly but surely, the dance began. Even with the noise of the room, the music playing, the talking, and laughter, and joy from the guests, you could still hear the small little gasps and breaths you let free as you danced with Aemond. 

It was likely one of the only times you hadn’t bickered after so long in his presence, let alone whilst touching him. The two of you stayed silent, moving this way and that, your gaze occasionally flitting to the table to your mother and Daemon, who watched with kind eyes. 

“Don’t let Aegon goad you.” Aemond finally spoke. 

His hand brushed against your shoulders, and round the back of your neck, a heat beginning to simmer in your gut from his touch. You turned to face him, watching as he observed you closely.

“He won’t stop if you show it bothers you.”

“He always bothers me.” You snipped, but this time with much less anger, “He is like a fly you wish to swat but can never reach."

Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked at you, turning around you slowly, “Mm.” 

“Mm.” You mimicked, turning away from him.

“Behave yourself, wife.” Aemond purred, irritation flitting through you momentarily.

“What? Like how behaved yourself last night?” 

“I could say much the same to you.”

“A shame then.” You sighed, moving to come chest to chest with him, your breath stilling in your lungs as you looked up at him. You would never get used to how tall he had grown over the years, “You bring much dishonour to your mother.”

“As do you. Whoring yourself to a Lord of the North-“

“-King of the North-“

“-In a dirty, whore riddled tavern.”

“A dirty, whore riddled tavern that you knew about.”

Aemond stilled, his head dipping towards you, “Did you think that I wouldn’t know of your movements in Kings Landing? Did you truly believe that I would be so foolish as to think that you would come to me willingly?”

You swallowed thickly.

“No.” He continued, sucking on his teeth, “You forget that I know you. You are much like your brothers. Getting into places where you don’t belong.”

“And what of yours?” You became defensive at the mention of your brothers, remembering how he and his would call you all bastards, “Loudly and brazenly whoring himself to any and all who would dare risk fucking him.”

“My brothers whoring does not concern me.”

“Then I suppose I am not a concern either.” You sniffed, “You needn’t worry, I am sure that he should find his way into our chambers one way or another.”

The hand on your arm tightened to the point of pain, your cheek twitching as you tried to hold in a wince, “I told you, he is not of concern.”

“I know Aegon. I have heard of what he does-“

“-And you know me. Know that he will not-“

“-He will not, what? Sully me? Taint our marital bed? It is already tainted. You made sure of that last night.” You stood closer to him, still as the others danced around you, your gaze peering up into his as your chest heaved, “But what if I want him to? What if I willingly invite him to take me? I’m sure you do not mind sharing after all, he is your brother.”

Aemond’s eye flashed with anger, before his head slowly ducked beside your ear, “If you think I am fool enough to stoop to your provocations then you must forget that we grew up together, side by side. I know your tricks.” The hand on your arm released its strong grip, coming to brush against the back of your neck, “I know that you despise him just as much as I. I know that you used to cry at the Godswood when he called you bastard.”

You bristled, purposely stepping back as you stared at him angrily. You hated that word. You hated what it meant for you and your siblings. You hated that he and his brother and his mother and the court whispered about all of your parentage. You hated that once, when you had been young, despite all of this, you had been friends.

Rage bubbled up inside of you, and before you could stop yourself you leant forward, hand coming to touch the side of Aemond’s face with his one seeing eye, the other covered by his leather patch.

You rubbed your thumb atop his cheek, “Imply that I am bastard once more, and I shall blind you with the purpose that Lucerys lacked.”

Aemond’s chest rose and fell jaggedly, inhaling breaths faster than yours, anger coursing through his veins. His sharp lips twitched as he watched you, “I wouldn’t dare. I know just how Strong you are, Princess.”

Your thumb moved fast, but Aemond was faster, anticipating your movements. His hand caught yours against his cheek, trapping your fingers between his hand so that they may not move further to pluck his remaining eye from its socket like intended. 

“People are watching, ābrazȳrys.” Wife, He purred, though there was a lick of danger behind it. 

A warning.

“Ivestragī zirȳ urnēbagon.” Let them watch, You sneered, “Nyke kessa laesdaor ao hae iā dīnilūks irudy.” I shall blind you as a wedding gift.

Aemond’s silver brow lifted, “Skoros iā sȳz irudy.” What a good gift, His eye turned dangerous, “Eman iā irudy syt ao, mēre nyke gōntan daor jaelagon naejot tepagon.” I have a gift for you, one I did not wish to give.

“Is it your death?” You countered cheerily, not wanting to show him that the way he spoke to you set your hair on end.

“No. I think it will be much better than that. We will both come to enjoy it.” The danger in his eye still flickered like a flame, “I was considering not giving it to you, but since you are behaving so wonderfully, I simply must insist.”

You turned away from him, moving to go back to your seat, “I want nothing from you.”

“And yet, you'll have everything.”

-

As the night grew long, your fears grew larger. And though he had taken you the night before in an alley, his subtle threat of what may come tonight lingered in the back of your mind. Each cup of wine was drained eagerly by your lips, hoping and wishing that you could somehow make yourself sick enough to not have the bedding ceremony. 

But it came all the same, just as the wedding had.

Aegon was the one who initiated the beginning of the end.

A large clap came from in front of you, the short haired Prince leaning towards you on the tables with his hands clasped together, silver and gold rings adorning them. A sinister smile pulled at his lips as he beamed at you and his brother. 

“The night is late!” He proclaimed loudly to the chambers, many Lords and Ladies turning their heads to watch, “I think we have held these two young lovers hostage for far too long!” Aegon smiled out to the room and then stood, lifting his goblet. 

His shirt was untucked, his gait unsteady and he swayed on his feet as he continued, “My brother is too polite to remove himself from festivities such as these! But brother,” He thrusted his cup towards you, “I can see that you wish to take your new wife to bed! The love these two share is a tale for story books, though they are too polite to say a thing.” He chuckled, and laughter followed from the Lords behind you, “Worry not! We will continue the festivities without you!”

Cheers were heard from about the room, though none came from your own table. Aegon sipped his wine greedily, eyes watching you from above the rim of his cup. The Prince took the goblet from his lips and clicked his fingers impatiently beside him, pointing at an uncomfortable Criston Cole who came to his side like a well trained mutt.

“Ser Criston, take these newly weds to my brothers chambers. It seems it is time for the bedding ceremony.”

Ceremony. 

Your blood ran cold. 

Aemond stood abruptly beside you, head on with his brother. 

“No need, Ser Cole.” His smooth voice icy, “I shall escort the Princess there myself.”

Aemond pushed his chair backwards as you continued to stare at Aegon, not quite ready to be alone with the Prince. 

Your husband.

You blinked, turning your head towards your family, who all gave you pained smiles. But it was your duty. And you had given your mother your word. Slowly you stood, letting your eyes scan the table, softly landing on your grandsire before meeting with a pair of large brown eyes. Alicent Hightower watched on with a nervous energy, her hands shifting on her lap as you assumed she picked at the skin around her fingers. The look in her eyes almost held empathy. 

Almost. 

You bowed your head to the King and Queen, ignoring Aegon’s shit eating grin. 

“Your Grace.”

Pushing your chair back you ignored the outstretched arm of Aemond and made your way down the stairs, Lords and Ladies watching as you made your slow exit from the room, taking false prideful steps through the court to delay the inevitable, giving all who watched smiles and nods of your head. 

The shifting of armour moved loudly behind you, before soon enough, Ser Criston Cole was overtaking your step to lead you out of the chambers and soon to Aemond’s. The white cape attached to his shoulders billowed behind him as he speedily kept on.

The skin on your elbow burned, a hand gripping it tightly as you were momentarily slowed as Aemond came to your side. You refused to meet his eye, feeling his gaze upon the side of your face as you exited the chambers, the sounds of cheering and laughter loud behind you. The chamber doors shut with a thump, the sound dampened and muffled, footsteps echoing down the darkened corridors of the Red Keep.

“Does Ser Criston not wish to watch you bed me?” You sneered, eyes flickering to the lit lamps on the walls as Aemond led you down a wing of the Keep you had scarcely been down. 

“I have instructed him to prepare my chambers for your arrival.” Aemond replied, his strides long and rigid as he almost hauled you with him. 

“Do not pull me.” You yanked your arm back, halting your steps, “I am not your dog.”

Aemond stilled, looking down his nose at you as he towered above, “Dogs are better behaved.”

The Prince’s head snapped to the side, pain spreading through your palm as you sneered at him. The side of his cheek bloomed an angry red, yet Aemond did not react to your slap, nor did he hit you back, instead, a slow smirk pulled at his lips. 

“I shall allow that, but only because I know you will regret it.”

Rising to your tiptoes you tried to make yourself come to eye level, “I regret nothing.”

“Mm.” He looked at you blankly, “I shall give you a choice.” Anger rose within your chest, heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks, “Come with me to the Godswood.” Your brows furrowed, “Pray to the Gods for forgivingness for striking your husband, kneel and apologise. Swear obeisance to me-”

“-If you think-“

“-And I shall let you go to your own chambers alone. No need for a bedding ceremony after last night.”

You flushed, swallowing thickly, “I would never lower myself to apologising to a second son. And especially not to a Prince who is owed no inkling of respect.”

Aemond watched you for a beat, eye scanning your face as his held flat, “Then we continue to my chambers.” The hand that pulled you began again, and your feet struggled to keep up with his, bruises no doubt to be on the tender flesh of your arm in the morning. 

Your heart raced in your chest as you felt yourself get closer to his chambers, his strides not once slowing down, though you tried to dig your heels into the flagstones to slow him. 

“You care not to have a woman enthusiastic in your bed?” You tugged fruitlessly at your arm, “You wish to drag me to a night of suffering, like a savage. Like your brother, Aegon.” You sneered, fruitlessly tugging your arm to escape his grip.

“A savage would have had you atop the table before all to see when you first defied me. I gave you a chance to apologise, remember that you scorned it.”

“A chance? What chance was I given? A loveless marriage with a man who is not my equal? A burden I am forced to bear as I am forced to lay beneath him!”

Aemond’s steps halted once more, almost causing you to crash into him, his fingers tightening against your arm as he yanked you against his chest angrily, “You needlessly make this more difficult. I extended an offering to you of peace, and you burnt it.”

“Peace?” You screeched incredulously, “You have done naught but provoke me! Naught but push and prod and goad me into reaction so that you may justify your sick desires.”

“Provoke you? I seem to recall you sneaking into Flea Bottom to try and lay with a Lord to spite me.”

“I was trying to save us from a loveless and cruel union.”

“Us? Or yourself?”

You paused, mouth feeling dry. Anger and fear swirled within your gut viscously as you stared at him. The both of you panting heavily at one another. Aemond shifted, moving away from the wall beside you, revealing two large wooden doors. 

You were there.

And you had not even realised.

“Wife.” Aemond purred sarcastically before pushing open the door, the smell of his room engulfing you. 

It smelt of him, but far more intensely. Of leather and smoke, and spices which he dabbed his skin with, and still, behind all of this, the natural scent of him. The smell that was only his and his alone. A scent that had wrapped around you in that alleyway the night before. 

The fireplace raged wildly, the room filled with dark mahogany furniture. There was a chaise, arm chairs, a table seated for six, a large bed on the other end, a reading desk with piles of books and scrolls, and candles sitting on every surface, lighting the room. 

The second thing you observed as your eyes roamed the space was that you were not alone. 

Your heart skipped in your chest. 

There by the bed, was a man sat in a chair. Arms tied down to it as his feet were tightly bound to the legs. His long dark hair was knotted atop his head as he stared at you in shock, and beside him, Ser Criston Cole.

“Cregan?” You breathed in shock, running towards the Northerner as you dropped to your knees, hand reaching out to cup his face as he only looked at you with sorrow, “Are you hurt?”

“I did warn you,” Aemond growled from behind, “That you would regret it. I had a plan, you see. A moment of mercy to let you apologise at the Godswood, for you to go-“

“-Let him go!”

“-To your chambers untouched and unscathed. I had given you a choice, and this is the one you have chosen.”

You turned your head sharply to face Aemond, “What have you done?”

“This man was caught conspiring against the crown. He planned to take the Princess’ honour and humiliate her betrothed. A Prince.” His lilac eye held Cregan’s icy blue ones, “I have done my duty by capturing this traitor to the realm.”

Fear began to bubble inside of you, eyes looking back to Cregan. The left side of his face was bruised, small cuts littered across his cheek and brow. His soft lips were swollen and split, and dried blood had gathered in one corner.

“He is innocent.” Your knees ached as they dug into the stones below, your upper body turning to face Aemond again, “He knew naught of what I was doing. Punish me. Let him go.”

Aemond hummed and walked towards you, “Brave. Admirable if it wasn’t for nothing. No. I gave you a choice before, and you have made your choice. I gave you the option to apologise, to bend to me as your husband, to go to your chambers alone, but this is what you have chosen. This was your choice.”

“You gave me no choice!” You sneered, moving to stand, shielding Cregan’s body with your own, “All this talk of choices when all you have gave was an unknown ultimatum.”

“A choice nonetheless. Godswood or chambers. And so here we are. The consequences of your actions.” The Prince came closer, shadows cast across his face, “I told you that you would regret it.”

“You’re a savage! A foul beast.”

A smile pulled at Aemond’s lips, “Choose your words carefully, wife. I have no qualm with slitting his throat where he sits should you continue to defy me.”

Cregan pulled against his restraints, angrily sneering at Aemond, who simply hummed once more as he came to stand before you, looking down at you with false pity, “But, it is the night of our union, and the betrayal is still fresh and something I am willing to move past. I shall give you another choice. One that I feel may be far too lenient.”

Tears began to well in your eyes.

This was all your fault.

“The Lord of Winterfell shall sit where he is, and watch as I fuck you in ways that he never shall-“

“-You disgust me!”

“-Or he shall be tried and hung for treason.” Aemond came closer, his chest almost brushing against yours as he stared at you, “The choice is yours.”

You sneered upwards at your uncle, tears gathering in your eyes, “I would rather die than let you touch me again.”

“I recall you seeming to enjoy it, wetting my cock in that filthy alley as you begged for it.” He purred, hand lifting to brush hair from your face as he sighed, “I don’t mind what you choose, I could simply slit his throat myself right now? If you'd prefer it?”

A lone tear fell down your cheek as you turned and held Cregan’s gaze, his brows furrowing as he saw you come to your decision. 

“Y/n, don’t-“ Cregan’s head was jerked back roughly, Ser Coles hand in his hair as he stuck a blade beneath his chin. The edge of the blade nicked the skin lightly, a small bead of blood travelling down his neck. 

He would die.

He would die and it would be all your fault.

“Please, Aemond.” You begged, “Please do not do this. Let him go. Let him go and I swear to you I will obey your commands. Let him free and I am yours.”

The silver haired mans head tilted as he cooed you, “I am sorry, my love. But it is too late to beg for my mercy as I offered it to you before. What kind of man would I be if I excused such treason?”

You stepped forward swiftly, “A strong one. A merciful one. A man who can see the error of my way. That I am repentant.” You tried to cajole him, “I promise you I will be good. I will perform my duty and do what is expected of me.”

“You are sweet when you beg, but it is too late.”

“Uncle, please! I will do anything! Anything you ask of me. I swear to the Seven.”

Aemond smiled at you, “I know you will. And that is why you will do this.” Aemond swallowed, eye roaming down your wedding gown hungrily, defiantly. 

Angrily. 

“Strip.”

“Aemond-“

“-Strip, or he dies.”

Tears rolled down your cheek, your stomach rolling in disgust and fear. 

“Please do not make me do this.” You sobbed, arms limp by your side as you looked down at the flagstones, feeling defeated.

Your husband tutted you, long slender finger brushing the tears that fell from your eyes away, “Do not waste your tears on him, my love. I can be gentle, and soon you will come to love my touch. This, I promise you.”

Pain bloomed in your jaw as you ground your teeth together, wary to not trigger Criston’s excitable hand. Short breaths puffed from your nose as fury and sorrow rose within you like a tide, little by little building in a wave. In your periphery, Aemond stepped back, a pale hand presented in front of you, palm outstretched for you to take.

Slowly, you let your gaze meet his, heated glare ignoring his offering as you refused to move. One last act of defiance. And one Aemond did not take lightly. Pain bloomed in your shoulder as you were roughly yanked forwards, and thrown backwards against the bed. Cregan shouted from behind you, the chair creaking beneath him. 

“I said, strip.” Aemond growled.

Your eyes flicked to Cregan, and then up towards Ser Cole who watched with conflicted eyes.

“Please,” You begged softly again, keeping your eyes on Ser Criston, “Not him too. Not Ser Cole.”

A shifting of armour moved from behind Aemond, and a small ‘Your Grace’ fell from the knights lips. 

Aemond spun, momentarily ignoring you as he turned to the knight standing awkwardly beside Cregan Stark, “You may leave, Ser Cole.” Aemond sniffed, “I am certain our guest will behave accordingly.”

Ser Criston’s eyes flickered to yours and then to the Prince as you tried to plead to him with yours for help. 

To help the daughter of the woman he was once sworn to. 

But no help came. 

The Dornish knight bowed his head and left without another word. 

“Let her go-“

“-Ah.” Aemond turned slowly towards Cregan, slow steps coming forward until he stood towering over the northerner, “Speak again and I’ll cut out your tongue.”

“Kepus,” You stood from the bed, grasping Aemond’s elbow tightly, hoping, praying that if you asked once more that he could see reason, “Please, let him go. I am yours. I will always be yours.”

Aemond stared at you, his pupil dilated as he stared at you intently.

“Strip.”

You fought the sob that threaten to rise up your throat and slowly lifted your chin. 

You would not show weakness. 

You would be strong. 

With shaking hands, you let your fingers find the strings at the back of your dress, and slowly but surely you pulled the laces, keeping your eyes on your husband who watched with intent. 

The gown sagged against your frame, the soft material falling down your chest slowly as you held it for one last moment, hoping that it was all a test, that he would change his mind and stop this madness. 

But he didn’t. 

Breath held in your chest, you let the gown fall to the floor below you, leaving you in your thin shift before the two men. Cregan looked away, his eyes focusing on the stones of the wall in shame, his hands tucked into tight fists against the arm of the arm of the chair, knuckles turning white.

A shiver ran down your back as the cool of the chambers stiffened your nipples into peaks, brushing against the white of your chemise. Aemond took a slow step towards you and then another, hand lifting to brush under your chin, an attempt to direct your gaze to him. You turned your head defiantly; looking to the wall where Cregan’s gaze laid. 

“Y/n.” Aemond warned softly, thumb and forefinger pinching your chin as he turned your face towards him, “Look at me.” 

Reluctantly you let yourself, and all you saw was the black of his pupil as he devoured you with his darkened gaze, “You’re so beautiful.” He cooed, “My wife.”

You swallowed thickly, his hand slowly skimming down your neck raising goosebumps along your skin as his fingers came to rest against the edge of your chemise. The tips of his nails scraped softly against your skin as it slipped beneath, and with an even slower movement, he tugged the chemise down off of your shoulders, the thin material floating down to the floor below leaving you completely exposed to the two men in his chambers. 

“I will not harm you, though you would deserve it.” Aemond purred, his eye roaming your exposed body, your stomach and core clenching in anticipation, “I plan to make you beg for it.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him, but in the moment his long fingers came to brush under your breast, fingers teasing your nipple softly, your mouth clamped shut. You shyly glanced at Cregan, who’s eyes were scrunched tight. Aemond followed your line of sight, sighing.

“If you do not watch,” Aemond fully turned to Cregan, “I will take out your eyes.” 

Even at the One-Eyed Princes threat, Cregan did not lift his gaze from the wall. The Lord of Winterfell willing to risk his sight so that you may keep your dignity.

“Fine.” Aemond grunted, pulling the blade from his belt, “Then I shall take hers.”

Fear shot through you as you stared at Aemond tearfully, watching in your periphery as Cregan’s head turned towards you and yelled. 

“No!”

“Then,” Aemond sneered, “Watch.” 

With eyes filled with shame, Cregan looked up at you. You didn’t know what to do, what could make it better. What could make any of this not what it was, and so you tried to offer him a reassuring nod. A small promise that it was okay to look when all you knew was how very much it wasn’t.

“Good.” The Prince hummed. 

Aemond resumed his touch against you, hand coming to cup your breast fully as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. His touch sent sparks across your chest, shame washing over you in a wave. 

Aemond ducked his head towards your face, beckoning you to kiss him. Would he be gentle as he was when you were married? Would it soften his actions? Or would it only make him worse?

Deciding that you didn’t want to push what little patience he had, your eyes slid shut, breath stuck deep in your chest as you felt the heat of his body come closer, the hand on your breast skating around your ribs to pull you closer to him. 

When his lips pressed against yours it was light, gentle, almost cautious, your hands staying stiff by your sides. But that softness was short lived, and soon Aemond deepened the kiss, his teeth clashing against yours roughly. 

You gasped softly as his other hand wound into your hair, tugging you closer as he nipped your bottom lip roughly. Your hands instinctually came up to his chest, gripping onto his jacket tightly to steady yourself. Anger poured into the kiss, and from behind you could feel the reluctant glare of Cregan. 

Aemond pulled away, your eyes fluttering open to look at him. His lips were swollen, having turned a rosy pink as a blush settled across his cheeks. His chest heaved against yours, the stitching on his coat brushing roughly against your stiffened peaks. 

“Have you ever bed a woman, Stark?” Aemond asked smugly, brushing the back of your neck as you turned you to face the Northerner again, your back to Aemond’s chest.

Even as exposed as you were, Cregan’s eyes did not shift to look at your body, keeping his simmering glare on Aemond.

Clicking his tongue, Aemond continued, “I’m sure you’ve fucked wildlings and mudmen alike, being a man of the North.” An arm wrapped around the front of your chest, breasts squeezed beneath the toned arm of your uncle behind you, “Tell me, are Winterfells brothels full of sheep like the Vale? Or maybe they’re full of pigs since you’re both fond of the mud.”

The chair beneath Cregan creaked, his jaw tensing in anger as Aemond taunted him. His pale eyes narrowed, lips tensed together in a sneer as his nostrils flared, breathing heavily whilst his hands gripped the arms of the chair tightly.

“No? Hm.” Aemond’s other hand slid across the skin of your back, travelling around to the front of your stomach slowly, brushing his fingertips along your hip bone as he continued, “You see, Stark, mudmen of the North have no place with the blood of Valyria. The Blood of the Dragon would never sully itself by laying with a Northerner. Nor would a Princess.” His hand continued to dip down, fingers brushing into the hair atop your mound. 

Your back arched in instinct, trying to escape his hand, but it only pushed your backside into his clearly hardened member, “Targaryens don’t fuck like animals,” His voice dipped lower, “We bring pleasure to our lovers.”

Aemond’s hand continued down, parting your folds with a finger, seeking out the heat and slick that had gathered at your entrance. Once found, Aemond’s chest vibrated from behind with an appreciative hum, dragging a long slender finger from your entrance, back up to your pearl. You jerked in his hold as he pushed lightly against it, slowly and torturously swirling the digit against your bud, your arousal aiding his movements. 

You watched Cregan curiously, the urge to hide yourself strong. His eyes never once left Aemond as he continued to bring you soft pleasure. The Stark’s chest rose and fell shallowly as he glared at the man behind you, who watched back with impatience. 

“I won’t tell you again.” Aemond purred, fingers dipping down to your entrance as he suddenly shoved one long finger inside of you, causing you to gasp at the small sting, “Watch her, or I blind her.”

Cregan’s eyes shut as he took a shaky breath, Aemond’s finger crooking inside of you, pressing against your front wall roughly. A whine fell from your lips causing the icy blue eyes to catch yours finally. Cregan swallowed thickly as you stared at one another, your hands gripping the sleeve of Aemond’s arm across your chest, twisting the material between your fingers as you shifted your hips back, pressing against him as he sped up his fingers movement. 

Cregan’s stare was hard, his eyes apologetic, watching you shift against your husband behind you as he began to fuck his finger inside of you, the sound of your slick filling the room. Your face flushed with embarrassment. 

“She’s quite reactive,” Aemond purred, slipping his finger from within you to rub at your bud again, causing you to jerk in his hold, his arm tightening further around your chest, “Her body knows what it wants, even when she tries to fight it. Do you hear how she needs me?” 

Aemond’s finger moved back to your entrance, but instead of one, he forced in a second, the ache from the night before settling within you again.

“Gods.” You whispered softly, pain and pleasure mixing into a confusing blend. Your head fell back against Aemond’s shoulder as he sped up his hand, fucking his fingers inside of you roughly. All you could do was lean your weight back against him, his arm the only thing that held you upright as his arousal pressed into the small of your back.

A familiar warmth began to build within you quickly, a coil rapidly tightening within your gut as Aemond switched from fucking you with his hand, to rubbing slick circles against your pearl. You scrunched your eyes shut, mouth going slack as your breath hitched. You were so close, so close, to reaching your peak, but each time you would almost get there, Aemond would slow his hand down. 

You whined in his arms, shifting as you just wished it would end, wishing he would let you peak. It was torture. And with each time he did it, the frustration and desperation built, a light sheen of sweat covering your skin.

“What is the matter?” Aemond cooed into your ear, his fingers slowing to almost a halt, “Did you need something?”

You huffed a breath through your nose, eyes scrunching shut as you tried to thrust your hips into his hand, anything to alleviate the pressure that was strung to snap at any moment. You didn’t care anymore, you just needed it to end. Aemond’s fingers stopped, hovering over your pearl.

You didn’t even want to think of what you must have looked like, bare, hair likely a mess, and body aching for release.

All while Cregan Stark watched.

“If you want something,” Aemond’s lips came to the side of your ear, pressing a ghostly kiss to them, “You need only ask.”

You bit on your bottom lip, willing yourself to not give in, to not give him what he wanted, but all you could think about was reaching your peak. Logically, you told yourself it was for Cregan’s sake so that it could all end quickly, but in reality, it was so that the throbbing in your core would cease, and the sweet feeling of relief could wash over you like it had the night before. 

“Come now, you’re not one to hold your tongue. Ask.”

You wet your lips timidly, keeping your eyes shut in shame, not wanting to see Cregan’s face as you begged for the man behind you to touch you again as he watched. 

A sharp sting shot through your centre, your eyes springing open as you gasped, you gaze immediately meeting the cold icy glare of Cregan, who’s fists tightened around the arms of the chair.

“Speak.” Aemond commanded, voice sharper in your ear as he watched Cregan tensing to the chair he was tied to.

Your mouth felt dry, and you licked at your lips once more before you softly whispered, “Please.”

“Please what?”

Cregan’s gaze looked back to yours, his eyes softened.

“Please,” You begged softly, “Touch me.”

You heard Aemond hummed from behind you, his finger slowly pressing into your cunt as he gathered slick from your entrance to drag back up to your bud.

“Like this?” He purred, slowly making circles against you, the coil within tightening again.

All you could do was nod, but that was not the answer that Aemond demanded. His fingers left your pearl as he waited, and you huffed in frustration.

“Touch me. Please, Aemond.” You weakly begged, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment, not wanting to see Cregan’s face. 

His touched resumed once more, but the arm wrapped around your chest shifted, his hand coming to grasp your chin as he lifted your head to look squarely at Cregan, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks.

“All you needed to do was ask, sweet wife.” Aemond purred, the movement speeding up, bringing you closer and closer to your peak, “I want you to wet my hand, and watch him whilst you do it. If you do not,” His voice dipped low, fingers pressing almost painfully against you, “I will know.”

You swallowed dryly and nodded your head in his grasp, feeling your peak begin to barrel towards you. Cregan watched your face, his own a soft pink and ice blue eyes half lidded. 

“Does this feel good? Am I making you nice and wet?” Aemond cooed, hand plucking pleasure from you in ways you didn’t know was possible.

You nodded weakly, “Yes.”

“You can do better than that. Tell him what it feels like.”

Your eyes widened, embarrassment flaring inside of you.

“Tell him or I’ll stop.”

“It-“ You paused, swallowing the last of your pride, “It feels good.”

“What feels good?”

“When you touch me.”

“How so?”

You exhaled shakily, shifting in his arm as his fingers softened their movements, “It feels good when you touch my cunt.”

“Sȳz riña.” Good girl, Aemond praised you, causing arousal to spark inside, “That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Does it feel good when I fuck you with my hand?”

“Yes, uncle.” You whined weakly.

“Tell Cregan that it feels good when I fuck you with my hand.”

Blinking at the man tied in the chair, you grit your teeth, “It feels good when he fucks me with his hand.”

Cregans nostrils flared as he shifted in his seat, and your head fell back against Aemond once more, “I’m close.” You panted.

You were so close, so, so close to just tipping over the edge, the smell of Aemond behind you suffocating you as heat began to rise through your body. The gaze of the man before you wavered, his eyes momentarily dipping to where Aemond’s hand was rubbing swift and slick circles. That was all it took for you to feel yourself fall undone.

You writhed against Aemond as your peak washed over you, the Northerner watching on as Aemond’s fingers became wet with your release, his gaze darting up to watch your face, jaw slack as he breathed shallowly.

“Shh, shh, shh. Good girl.” Aemond praised you, his hand finally stopping as he smoothed up and down your sides. 

A warm glow settled over your body and your eyes slid shut, head lolling to Aemond’s chest behind you as you breathed deeply, the pulsing of your cunt halting any and all thoughts that you had. 

But as quick as the calm had come, the quicker it left, your world tilting as you were spun and pushed back onto the bed. Your eyes shot open as you watched Aemond step towards you, Cregan observing with slight concern before you were yanked back down the bed towards the Prince by your ankles, legs splayed open. 

On instinct they tried to close, too exposed to the room, but your husband wouldn’t allow it, standing between them as he held them open with his hand, his lone eye commanding you to stay still from above. 

Would it be painful like the night before? Would he bring you pleasure as well? Or would it be something entirely different now that you lay down on a bed, the way that your Septa’s had told you it would happen, and certainly not inside a dirty alley in Flea Bottom?

But what your Septa’s had not informed you of was that your husband, who seemed to be more concerned with punishing you than bringing you any reward, began to kneel before the bed, his back to his prisoner.

“I need to taste how sweet you are, and then I shall fuck you.” 

With a broad swipe of his tongue, Aemond parted your folds from your entrance to your bud, collecting your release on it as he went. His eye closed as he hummed, coming to lap at your folds once more, pleasure sparking up through you. 

You gasped softly, the feeling foreign but not unwelcome. It was more intense than you had thought it could be, but perhaps you were over sensitive from the release you just had. You watched Aemond, his lilac eye opening to look up at you with a smirk.

He pulled away from your centre, lips wet with your slick, “You are as sweet as I thought you would be.”

Aemond stood, towering over you as he began to pull at his belt and breeches, wherein he began untying them, lace after lace ripped from its eyelet until they sagged. His shirt was pulled away, revealing the pale skin of his lower stomach, and the dusting of hair that trailed down from navel to pubis.

The Prince’s length strained against his breeches, the base of it just showing, a purple vein standing out against his starkly pale skin. You hadn’t gotten to see it properly the night before, and the sight of it made your core clench around nothing. 

Before he pulled himself from the confines of his pants, Aemond grabbed you once more and shifted you to lay sideways atop his bed, the plush green sheets soft beneath your skin. Your eyes rose to the ceiling, looking at the soft canopy that lay atop before the screeching of a chair on stone caught your attention.

You snapped your head to the side, watching as Aemond effortlessly dragged Cregan by the chair closer to the bed, only an arms length away. He towered over the man from Winterfell who looked up at him with nothing but contempt.

“You’ll watch me fuck her,” Aemond began smugly, “And know that it could never be you. Know that it will never be you.” Cregan attempted to sit up higher in the seat, chest pulling at the ropes that held him back, “You’ll watch me bring peak after peak from her as she wets my cock and likes it, and you’ll remember that it was me doing it.”

“Aemond.” You tried to distract him, try to take the attention away from Cregan, who watched with burning eyes, “Please.”

The silver haired Prince turned his head towards you and smirked before looking back at Cregan, “You see? She already begs for more.” Aemond walked back towards you, only two short steps from the bed as his eye roamed your naked body, gaze settling into the crux of your thighs, “She only had me last night, and already she begs so nicely.”

With jerky movements, Aemond pulled his length from his breeches, the length and girth large and intimidating. The tip was a rosy pink, and long veins travelled up its length. A bead of arousal had begun to form on top, slowly leaking down the base as he knelt on the bed, pulling you down to meet his hips, and had you not already experienced it, you would have been filled with fear. 

Aemond thrust into you quickly and sharply, pain filling you before a feeling of fullness, his tip pressing at the end of your walls. You hissed softly, hands having raised to grasp his arms, nails biting into his skin beneath his shirts.

Your husband leant down, lips brushing against your cheek as it moved to your ear, “Do you like when I spear you on my cock?” He purred, his breath tickling your neck. 

With clenched teeth you nodded, willing your body to adjust to his size quickly.

“Use your words, you’re not a mute.”

“Yes.” You grit out, turning your head away from him as he loomed above you, arms on either side of your head as he lay between your parted thighs.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Aemond.”

“Close.

You swallowed, “Yes, Husband.”

“Good.” Aemond pulled out of you swiftly before he thrust back in, “Girl.”

You exhaled sharply, the angle so far different from the night before. He felt deeper, more intense, everywhere all at once. 

It was overwhelming. 

You scrunched your eyes shut as Aemond began to rut into you, your hands not once leaving his arms as you clutched onto him, shifting your hips to alleviate the way his tip pressed harshly against your cervix with each thrust. 

His hips clapped against yours brutally, speeding up, the movement shifting you up the bed as you squeaked with each impact, a warmth beginning to pool in your gut once more. The hair at the base of his cock brushed against your pearl roughly as his pelvis slid against yours, the stimulation winding that all too familiar coil again.

A moan broke free from your lips as Aemond shook a hand free, hoisting up one of your legs atop his hip, shifting the angle entirely so that his cock brushed against the small spongey patch within you deliciously, pleasure sending sparks through your limbs. Your eyes were shut so tightly, you could see stars behind them, your bottom lip gnawed between teeth. 

“Open your eyes.” Aemond breathed from above, his pace not once faltering. 

Your head tipped to the side, away from where Cregan sat, eyes still scrunched shut as you whined beneath him. 

“I said,” Aemond grunted, hand roughly coming to grasp your chin as he turned your head back towards Cregan, “Open.”His fingers squeezed painfully against your jaw, bruises likely to show in the morning, your eyes finally opening to find Cregan watching you already.

“Lord Stark knows how to follow orders. He’s not once taken his eyes off you.” Aemond purred, thrusting particularly sharply into you causing you to wince, “Do you think he wishes he were I?”

Your mouth felt dry again, and all you could do was watch as the blush on Cregan’s cheeks depend and his eyes momentarily flashed away form you before returning, remembering Aemond’s threat. 

“I think he does, sweet wife. I think he wishes that he was in your tight, wet, cunt as I am now. Don’t you agree?” 

Your breasts moved with each thrust, the sound of your slick sliding against his length loud as it was before as you huffed beneath your husband.

Aemond’s fingers tightened against your jaw, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes.”

Another squeeze.

“I do.” You breathed, your face suddenly feeling flushed. 

The man on top of you pulled out suddenly, hands moving under your sides to flip you over onto your stomach.

“Do not-“ You began angrily.

“-Quiet.” Aemond snapped, grabbing your hips as he pulled you up onto your knees, your hands fisting the sheets as you looked ahead, uncertainty filling your features before you felt the head of Aemond cock slide through your folds, and push straight back inside. 

“Fuck you.” You hissed as he began to fuck into you, “Gods.” The angle made you feel even fuller than before, but shallower too, his length constantly batting against your walls as his hips clapped against your ass.

You struggled to stay upright as he continued, his grip on your hips painful as he pulled you back onto him, the air being punched from your lungs each time, making you gasp out small little high pitched huffs. A hand in your hair wrenched your head back and then to the side, directing your face to meet the Stark’s who’s eyes were not on your own, but instead upon your body.

The heat of his gaze caused you to clamp down on Aemond’s length, the Lord’s roaming eyes watching as the Princes cock buried itself over and over inside of you, before slowly roaming back up your body, catching sight of your breasts below you as they moved, and then finally to your face. 

Seeing that he was caught, Cregan flushed, eyes casting down briefly before looking back up at you. He shifted against the chair, hands still tightly clenched against the arm, chest heaving, his thick muscled thighs clenching against the seat, and to-

Oh.

Cregan shifted again, knowing where your gaze had fallen, his hips trying to shift back against the wooden chair, but there was nothing to hide the hardening length within his dark leathered breeches, which pressed painfully to the front of his pants.

Your core clenched again, and from behind you heard Aemond grunt. 

You should have been upset, you should have been horrified, but all it did was set the heat that was already simmering in your gut ablaze, your nipples stiffening to peaks. Instinctually you arched your back, hoping to better the view, which got another grunt of appreciation from your husband, who’s pace was yet to falter, his stamina owed to years of hard work in the training yard with Ser Criston Cole. 

Cregan’s lips parted as he watched you, the pink of his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and that was all it took for you to come undone. You cried out loudly, keeping your eyes on Cregan as Aemond fucked you through your release, triggering his own. He came with a growl, his hips slowing to a halt as you felt his seed pulse inside of you. 

You collapsed against the bed, eyes half lidded as you watched Cregan shift again against his chair as Aemond slowly pulled out of you with a hiss. Warmth dripped from your folds and down your thighs as you felt the soft press of kiss against your shoulder blades. 

Your uncle manoeuvred you on the bed again, your body pliant in his hands as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, legs spread wide for Cregan to see. The man’s pale eyes drifted down to between your thighs, watching hungrily as Aemond’s spend dripped out from within you. 

“Tell me Cregan,” Aemond stood by the bed panting, tucking his length back into his breeches whilst he brushed a loose hair over your shoulder, “Did you enjoy watching me fuck my wife?”

The taunt earnt him a sneer. 

“An honest question deserving of an honest answer. I thought Stark’s were known for the honesty and oaths?” Aemond pressed.

You breathed heavily as you watched Cregan’s gaze fell to you and only you in that moment as his answer was given. 

“Yes.”

There was no denying the edge of arousal that roughened the edge of his answer. 

“Hm.” A beat, “Would you like a taste?”

You brows furrowed as you looked up to your husband, who kept his eye on Cregan, his hand atop your shoulder brushing gently in thought. 

A taste?

Did he mean to-

Your heart leapt into your throat, watching as Aemond took his blade from his side and moved towards the Stark man. 

“Stop!” You yelled, watching as Cregan did not flinch when Aemond approached him. 

“Worry not, I mean no harm. I am feeling generous.” Aemond purred, lifting the blade towards Cregan, “He watched dutifully as I put my seed inside of you.” His lilac eye dropped to Cregan’s hardened member, “And it seems that he has enjoyed it.” The Prince turned to face you, ���I only wish to give him a parting gift. Something to remember… to agonise over for years to come.”

With a swift hand, Aemond sliced the ropes that bound Cregan's chest to the back of the chair, the Northerner staying still in his seat. The tall Targaryen bent down and cut the ropes on the mans legs loose, one by one.

“Now,” Aemond stood to his full height again, pointing his blade towards Cregan’s wrists, still tied to the chair, “Know that I have your men in a holding cell, and should you try anything, I shall have them all cut into seven pieces and strung about the gates.” Aemond paused, his gaze hardening, “And then I will stay true to my word.”

Cregan’s chest heaved with anger as he watched the prince, still not speaking a word.

“Do we understand each other?” Aemond questioned him, one silver brow lifted in challenge. 

Cregan’s jaw clenched, a click audible to the chambers, “Yes.” He growled.

Aemond hummed in acknowledgement and released his hands, taking a step back as Cregan stood slowly, rubbing at his raw wrists as he looked at you on the bed. His head turned back towards your husband, uncertain of what he meant. 

Impatiently Aemond thrust his arm towards you, blade still in hand, “Go to her. Taste how sweet she is, and know that you will never taste her again.”

Cregan shifted on his feet uncomfortably, looking to you for permission, for denial. 

You didn’t know what to do, or what to say, so instead, you widened your legs in invitation, feeling desire begin to stir in you once more. 

It was wrong. 

But Gods did you need it. 

“Clean her up.” Aemond commanded, and with slow and cautious steps, Cregan walked towards you.

The scent of Aemond was overpowered by that of Cregan’s. He smelt of cedar wood and fur, and the soft smell of musk beneath it all that just felt right for a Northerner. 

It felt as if each stepped dragged on for days. You shifted against the bed nervously, casting your eyes to Aemond, who watched with a desire of his own.

Cregan dropped to his knees, his hands twitching by the side of your hips on the bed, cautious to even touch you, a stark difference to the way Aemond simply took. The dark haired man looked up at you breathlessly as you gave him a nod, shifting your hips towards him again, likings the way his eyes dropped down to your centre and then back up. 

His large calloused hands grasped the soft meat of your hips, his eyes keeping on yours as he leant froward slowly, the heat of his breath fanning across your sensitive folds. Your mouth parted as you panted above him, watching as he wet his lips before finally pressing a chaste kiss to your core. 

A soft moan escaped your mouth, head dropping back momentarily, giving him a strike of confidence before burying his tongue between your folds. You dropped back onto the bed, hands coming to grasp his hair as he licked and suckled at your folds, lapping at both your and Aemond’s release which only served to spark your desire further, that same familiar coil winding rapidly.

You tilted your head to watch him, his eyes still on you as you began to come undone on his tongue. Your name pulled you away from his stare, and you turned your head to face Aemond who watched hungrily from beside, his jaw tensed. 

Already sensitive from such an intense night already, you writhed against Cregan’s mouth with a moan, his ministrations bringing you to your peak swiftly, your slick gushing into his mouth. You kept your eyes on Aemond this time, watching as he breathed deeply, his cock already beginning to swell in his breeches.

You panted and whined as the pleasure became too much, and only then did Cregan remove his face from between your thighs, roughly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The chambers became still as you all breathed deeply, warmth spreading through your limbs as you couldn’t decide who to look at for longest. 

Your husband.

Or the Northerner.

All you could think about was what you had done. 

What had just transpired.

Your husband had trapped a Lord of the North in his chambers and forced him to watch you be fucked by him, and not only that, commanded that he cleaned you after. But what was the most confusing part of all, was that all in the chambers seemed to have liked it.

“Cole.” Aemond’s voice broke the stillness of the room, the door to the chambers opening swiftly. 

Cregan stepped in front of you to shield your body from Ser Cole at the same time Aemond did, his back turning to his knight as he grabbed the sheet of the bed to drape over your exposed body.

The knight entered, flagged by two guards.

Confusion flashed across Cregan’s face as he stiffened, body gearing itself up for a fight.

“Relax, Stark.” Aemond mused, not even bothering to look at the man as he observed the guards, eye landing on Ser Cole again, “Take Cregan and his men to the travel roads. Ensure they have food for travel and water for the ride. They are to leave Kings Landing immediately to return back to Winterfell.” 

Ser Cole nodded, as did the guards who swiftly approached Cregan, grabbing each arm as they began to remove him from Aemond’s chambers. The dark haired man looked back at you in confusion as you clutched the sheet your chest, unsure of what to do.

“Stark.” Aemond called out before the dark haired mans foot could cross the threshold. The Northerner stilled, eyes suspicious, “Expect a raven.”

Without another word, the guards pulled Cregan out of the room, Criston shutting the door behind them. The silence in the chambers was nerve-racking, and you turned to look at your uncle, who was already making his way to fill two goblets of wine. 

Your mouth opened, a myriad of questions ready to pour out your mouth, but as usual, Aemond seemed to be one step ahead.

“You’re my wife.” He began, the sound of wine filling goblets. He turned with them in hand, coming to stand beside the bed as he handed you one. 

You kept one hand with the sheets against your breast, the other shakily grasping the goblet, fatigue weighing your body down. Aemond spun to sit in the very chair that Cregan had been tied to, the ropes still on the floor in a heap.

“Our marriage is one of a prospect of peace, not love.” His words stung you in a way you didn’t realise they could, “Though, I do hope to change that one day. I wish to make you happy,” He paused, taking a sip from his goblet as he thought carefully, “And it would be remiss of me to say that what just happened didn’t spark something within me.”

You frowned, “I do not understand.”

“You looked like a Queen having him kneel before you.”

A beat.

“My Queen."

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to any tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

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[ellebakers]

☆ Beastly. (+18)

• Cregan Stark x Reader Targaryen.

Summary : Your mother sends you to Cregan Stark to make an alliance, and that's what you intend to do.

Warning(s) : SMUT, Language.

As Rhaenyra's eldest daughter, you were surprised when she asked you to fly north to create an alliance with Cregan Stark, you expected her to ask your brother Jacaerys to take care of it. That's why, before flying away, you turned one last time to your mother.

“Can I ask you something ?”

“Of course my dear.” Rhaenyra replied with a tender smile.

"Why me ? Why didn't you ask Jace to take care of it ?"

The queen smiled and gently grabbed your face "My dear, I have heard of Cregan, I have heard only good things about him as a warrior, a man and... a potential husband."

You raised your eyebrows "I was thinking of negotiating for a war alliance, not a marriage.." you snickered.

“Y/n, I know that you have heard of Cregan too, I also know that you confided to your servant that you wanted to be wed to him.”

Your mother says with a smile.

“I.. um..” You cleared your throat.

"I'm not asking you to marry him, but if you feel like it, know that you have my blessing."

You bowed “Thank you mother”

☆

After flying for what seemed like hours, you arrived at the Stark castle, a servant took you to the Throne room where Cregan sat, waiting for your arrival.

You couldn't help but notice his beauty, everything about him was attractive.

“My lord” You bowed to him.

Cregan stood up and with a smile bowed in turn. "Princess"

You smiled at him. ““Have you received the letter from my mother ?"

Cregan nodded "Sure, let's talk about it over a meal, you must be starving and freezing." He tells you with a seductive smile.

That evening, an alliance was signed between the Starks and the Targaryens, but not as you had imagined, since he had taken you on the meal table between the main course and the dessert, he had made you moan and arch your back more times than you can count.

☆

This is how, six months later, while the war between the Greens and the Blacks was knocking on the doors, you found yourself in Cregan's bed, a wedding ring in your hand, and this morning was the same as every morning for six months .

“Shit” You moaned, straddling Cregan’s face and gripping the headboard.

Cregan was moaning too as he tasted your juices, he gripped your hips as you moved your pelvis for more sensation, his tongue moving in and out as he sucked on your pussy.

"Do not stop" You cried in pleasure.“I’m going to cum.”

It only takes one movement of his tongue inside you and you cum on his tongue. "Oh my-"

He waited for you to come back from your hight to place you gently on the mattress.

"Good morning my love." he whispered as he kissed each of your breasts, taking your nipples into his mouth and sucking on them.

“Good Morning” you moaned.

“I want you” He whispered to you while pressing his hard member between your legs, making you moan. “I can tell.”

He smiled and placed his member at your entrance, he kissed you and with a single movement he penetrated you, making you both moan.

“Still so tight” he moaned as his pelvis movements became faster and harder.

You arched your back and moaned, “That feels good.”

He withdrew completely and turned you onto your stomach, you leaned on your elbows and he penetrated you again, moaning.

“Like that” you moaned, getting wetter and wetter.

His thrusts grew harder as he let out beast moans.

This is how you love your lord, beastly

He grabbed your hair and pulled lightly, making you moan louder. “Cregan, I’m going to-”

“I know, me too” He moaned and soon you felt something hot running down your thighs as he buried himself inside you to leave his seed there.

You gripped the sheets and hid your cries of pleasure in the pillow. He sighed in pleasure as he pulled out of you and gently roll you on your back, letting his head rest on your chest.

"I can't wait to see a baby grow inside of you" He whispered as he caress your belly with his fingertips.

You chuckled and caress his soft hair "Someone's eager to be a father ?" you teased.

He smiled and pressed his lips to your stomach “You have no idea.”

You smiled softly and whispered "I love you."

He smiled back and whispered "I love you too."

.

Author's note : I know Cregan has been cast but i remain in denial and i want Leo in this role even if Tom is gonna be a great Cregan.

#cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #leo suter

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 1)

Cregan x reader

A/N: this is just gonna be a miniseries methinks

word count: 1,171

Next chapter

Series Masterlist

“You look like an angel, my love.” Rhaenyra says as the handmaidens pin back your hair but you don’t feel like an angel; you feel like a pawn.

You have been meeting with suitors for nearly four moons and none have seemed to be good enough for you. Lannisters are too proud, Tullys bore you, and you can’t stand a single person with the name Baratheon. Your mother said that she was showing you a great kindness in allowing you to choose, a kindness that she didn’t appreciate enough when the young queen had the chance. You don’t care. You know you are just like she was when she was younger. You often wear that with pride but you know what it means in this scenario. You’re ‘too stubborn to appreciate what has been given to you’. Rhaenyra gave you the opportunity but she was no longer patient. A husband had to be chosen.

“Winterfell is very far.” Is all you say in response.

“Lord Stark is a good man. I would not have chosen him for you if I wasn’t sure of it.” She presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Just walk through the gardens with him. Get to know the man who will be your husband.” She pets your hair in a loving manner. You can’t seem to understand that she would only have the best for you, her only daughter.

You have yet to meet Cregan Stark but you already hate him, your betrothed, the man who will whisk you away from your family to the cold North. You resent the freedoms he is taking from you. You resent being separated from your family. You resent everything about him.

“He will treat you well, sweet girl. I know it.” You stand up now, wrapped in a silk gown and decorated with jewellery like a lovely little present for him. When you get to the gardens, he is already waiting for you with a blinding smile on his face. You have to admit that he is incredibly handsome. He is tall and his physique looks strong from years of training with the sword. A real Northern man.

“Princess, it is my pleasure to meet you. Our engagement brings great honour to my house.” He walks over to stand in front of you and you let him take your hand up for a kiss, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Lord Stark.” Your voice is cold which seems to surprise him ever so slightly. You don’t give him a chance to say much else as you begin to walk through the gardens, leaving him in your dust. He looks at you in a bit of a stupor before quickly following after his pretty betrothed. 

“Would you like to take my arm, princess?” He politely offers his right arm to you. How proper.

“No.” You say simply as he speeds up a bit to stay in step with you.

“No?” He looks a little confused but chalks it up to teenage girls being a little strange. You give him no other response so he makes another attempt at conversation. “Have you ever visited Winterfell?”

“No.” He awaits to hear a sentiment of your excitement to see it soon but is disappointed when none comes.

“I am sure you will love it. It’s beautiful when there's a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. I’d say it’s the greatest place in all of Westeros but I suppose i’m biased.��� He grins, mostly to himself, and then looks at you, hopeful for more of a response.

“Hmm.”  Is all you offer as a reply. Cregan finds himself dejected at his future wife’s lack of interest and he tries his best to shake it off.

“It does get cold of course but you’ll be more than warm enough in the castle. Most actually find it very cozy.” He gives you another smile that likely has most women melting in a puddle at his feet. For some reason it just irritates you more.

“Dragons don’t do well in the cold.” Your curt reply makes him cringe. He can’t understand what has given you such a sense of distaste towards him. Things are silent for a moment. He has no idea how to respond directly to your comment.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Another attempt it seems. The question makes you sigh. What a boring change of subject. 

“We don’t really need to speak.” You shock him with your words, with your bratty attitude. He’d expected you to be entitled but he didn’t expect you to be outright rude. He is a lord after all, the Warden of the North. He deserves some sense of courtesy from you.

“That is going to be difficult seeing as how we are to be wed.” He scoffs and you begin to fiddle with the rings that decorate your fingers.

“The only thing you need from me in this marriage is to fill my belly with your heirs.” You say. You know it’s harsh but it isn’t necessarily untrue. He seems to be taken aback slightly by your words.

“You don’t wish to get to know the man you’re going to marry?” He asks in disbelief. He seems like a romantic. You didn’t think people of nobility were allowed to be romantics. Though, simply knowing your husband better is a sad definition of romanticism.

“You ask many questions.” You roll your eyes and he does his best to hold his tongue and not say something stupid.

“And you answer practically none, princess.” There was a bit of bite in his words. He clearly believes that you’re acting like a spoilt child. 

Awkward silence fills the space between you both. You wonder if he may apologise to you and he earns a bit more of your respect because he doesn’t. It’s quiet for quite some time and you try to walk faster so that you may get to the end of the gardens before he tries to make conversation again. He never does and it isn’t long before the promenade comes to an untimely finish.

“Good day to you, my lord.” Poor Lord Stark looks like he’s rethinking all of his life choices when you say the words to him. What an ill fate for the man, marrying a cold Targaryen princess.

“To you as well, princess.” You don’t lift your hand up for him to kiss again and based on the fact that he looks like a kicked puppy, you know that he wanted to.

You leave quickly. You did your duty… technically. Your mother asked you to walk through the gardens with him and you did. Mayhaps you simply forgot about the getting to know him part. You wonder if he will retract his proposal, but who would ever retract a proposal to a princess? Maybe you’re delaying the inevitable, maybe you’re just full of old fashioned Targaryen spite but you have no wish to create a relationship with the man you’re meant to marry.

taglist(comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies

#lord husband #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan fic #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fic

[loveslibrarywp]

Kindly begging pretty please for Cregan content with Rhaenyra’s daughter!reader and her going to Winterfell/marrying him for the sake of the Blacks 🙌

Marriage for duty

Cregan Stark x Velaryon/Strong!reader

Summary: After delievering the message and proposal from your mother to the Lord of Winterfell, you’re now stuck with getting married to a Lord you barely know. Yet, he comforts you during your time at Winterfell and completely changes your mind.

Warnings: Cregan being a cutie.

Authors note: shitty summary but whatever..

You sigh as you take off your fur coat as you were now in the heat of your chambers. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, taking in some of your last days as a free, unmarried woman.

Your mother proposed that you marry Lord Cregan Stark, a man you had just met. She did this to unite their houses and to gain more men for the war. Cregan wasn’t cruel or evil from what you saw, and he wasn’t old either. He was a handsome man, that was a plus to this arrangement.

But, you weren’t ready for marriage. You didn’t know much about being a wife or your duties as such. You picked up your comb and brushed out your long, dark curls. After a long day of negotiating and talking to the men of Winterfell, you needed a hot bath.

A knock came from your door, startling you. You put down your wooden comb and opened the door. A gush of cold wind came rushing through. It was Cregan standing outside.

He quickly came in and shut the door. “My apologies for my sudden arrival, my lady.” He said as he looked down at you. “It is alright, my lord.” You said as you went to go add more firewood to the burning flames of your fireplace.

“I have noticed that you aren’t very comfortable here..” he said as he watched your form move around the room. “I’m fine, my lord. Just not used to the weather here is all.” You said as you brushed your hands on your dress as you awkwardly laugh.

“It is not that. Perhaps, you aren’t very comfortable with me and our betrothal?” He questioned as he cleared his throat nervously. You look up at him, “No, my lord. It is the idea of marriage itself. I fear I am not ready.” You sigh, your face full of sorrow.

He steps towards you and takes your hands into his grasp, “you will be a wonderful wife, I know it. And I will be a good and faithful husband.” He reassures you, caressing your hands with his fingers. “I know you will be, you seem to be a very kind man.” Your face feels hot and his gaze is intense. Your eyes drift to the ground to avoid his eyesight.

“You’re too beautiful to hide your face.” He said as he lifted your face up to meet his gaze. Your eye widened and you blush furiously. A little smile appears on your lips, “you charm me, my lord.”

“That is the goal, my lady.” He smirked, you laugh at his remarks. His smile only grows at your laughter.

“I shall take you on a walk through the village tomorrow. Maybe I can even introduce you to my favorite stalls that sells the most delicious desserts you will ever have the pleasure of tasting.” He goes on, you smiled up at the man, feeling much better than you did before.

“I’d like that very much, my lord.” You said. He gleamed at your approval, “perfect, I will see you in the morning then.”

“Until then…” you said with a bright smile. “Goodnight, my lady.” He kissed your hands, never breaking eye contact with you. Your cheeks had to be redder than cherries by now.

“Goodnight..” you said as you watched him leave your room. Maybe marriage wouldn’t be so bad after all..

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #cregan x reader #cregan fanfiction #hotd cregan #hotd #house of the dragon #winterfell #house stark #rhaenyra targaryen

[koobratzy]

The Jewel of the North

Just a little fanfic idea I had. No one writes for Cregan, so now I take it upon myself to deliver what we've all been waiting for. Let me know what you think, and please reblog if you like what I wrote so far. It will help me reach a bigger audience <3 I love you all. Remember to take care of yourself!

Y/N Valaryon always knew she was a bastard. Her silver hair and violet eyes protected her from such rumors, making the court believe that she was the only trueborn child of Leanor, but she knew the truth. She was as much out of wedlock as her younger brothers.

The princess could see how Daemon Targaryen looked at her. He tried to be discreet, but his eyes always followed her like a shadow, no matter where she went. The prince was like a ghost. Hovering over her at all times but invisible to the naked eye. When Y/N managed to catch his gaze, there was longing inside. Desire to be near, to show his devotion for what it was. Love for his firstborn child. But he couldn't openly do that. The court was too watchful of Rhaenyra anyway, even without his involvement in the young princess's life.

Her own personality convinced her even further. She was full of fire. The veins inside her body transported heat with every breath, her heart burning with so much anger that even the princess got scared sometimes. From a young age, Y/N trained with a sword, just like her brothers did, and the abilities she presented could put many young lordlings to shame. It only became more apparent when the dragonless princess was found by Cannibal. Rhaenyra was terrified, her only daughter standing so close to the ferocious beast capable of swallowing her whole. And yet, it never happened. The dangerous monstrosity picked her. Of all dragons, she was chosen by him. The only beast that could match her inner flame and rage.

Young Valaryon knew that she was his. They could pretend all they wanted, but she knew the truth.

When Laenor Valaryon died, the curtains of the theatre of life they played so long finally fell, and Daemon got what he always wanted. His firstborn daughter. He could finally be the father he always wanted to be and help her reach full potential. Show not only how to control her rage but also how to use it to achieve whatever she dreamed of. His daughter would always be protected, either by him or her own strength.

Their life on Dragonstone was perfect. Cheerful, free of any worries, luxurious. Peaceful without the constant unsettling presence of her uncles. But dark clouds were gathering over the clear skies. A storm more dangerous than any in history was coming way quicker than anyone expected, and it was ready to devour House Targaryen with its jaws, throwing the realm into chaos.

What will become of Y/N's life? Will her entire world burn? Or is a bit of ice and snow enough to extinguish it before it turns into ashes?

#house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #targaryen reader

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Cregan Stark x Targ!reader

Okay but imagine Cregan Stark and Rhaenyra's daughter!reader. It's a arranged marriage completely for political reasons and strategies. Cregan is a man, not a boy like your brothers or your uncles. He is the warden of the North. Whereas you are inexperienced and only blossomed into a beautiful woman not long ago.

You always felt like you are a bargaining chip. First your mother tried to arrange a marriage between you and Aegon, then to a son of Vamond Velaryon, then to your own brother Jace. But at last it was decided that marrying you off to Cregan Stark is the best strategy. Because of all these you thought your marriage was just a duty to your queen, but Cregan was looking for a wife, a companion.

You thought maybe if it comes to it Cregan would also use you as a bargaining chip. You were so very wrong.

Imagine your wedding night. You are shy and scared. But Cregan is so gentle with you. Just you and him in the cozy room. He can tell you are inexperienced and he has a lot to show you, teach you. That night it was all about your pleasure. His fingers and tongue made you cum many times before he finally claimed you. Imagine waking up the next morning in his arms, both coverd with a thick blankt of fur.

There is a hight difference and size difference and your husband loves it. You found him intimidating at first but you have grown to feel secured around him and with him.

He doesn't mind you wearing the Targaryen colors at all, but the first time you wore the Stark colors he was mesmerized. Immediately pulled you into a kiss, didn't care who was watching.

Imagine you opening up to him. Telling him how you feel like a bargaining chip all your life. And how you were not expecting to find a home at the North, a home with him. Imagine saying all this to him right after you two made love in front of the first place and now only overed with his fur cloak, his arms around you, gently caressing you, kissing your shoulder and neck.

Cregan assuring you that you were never a political arrangement to him, but he is happy that none of the other betrothal worked out. He loves you and he will love you till his last breath.

Imagine you laying on top of him, looking at him and talking as he caresses your back.

Imagine you flying your dragon and Cregan on his horse. A silly race that end on your both making love in a beautiful place with a beautiful scenery

#cregan fanfiction #cregan stark x targaryen!reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine

[fairysluna]

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

#house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon #jaceagan #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you

[gtgbabie0]

-Cregan Stark x Reader

{You learn that your husband is a very affectionate drunk}

I’m so back… Enjoy my lovelies! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Northern men know how to drink, it’s something you learned from first-hand experience on the night of your wedding. How the lords and ladies danced and drank together throughout the night, slurring their words and spilling their ale.

Today was no different, a celebration for your husband's name day that has been going on since the sun had started to rise. You couldn’t complain about it, it was nice to see Cregan not overwhelmed with his duties.

The dining hall is dimly lit with candles that are littered everywhere, the white wax melts in clumps on the wooden tables that are stained with ale and wine. You notice how much calmer the atmosphere seems to be, now that the evening has approached, as you lean back into your chair.

Most of the guests had taken their leave by now and only a few Lords and Ladies remain, and even their faces were visibly exhausted. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you glance over to Cregan, who is already looking at you with soft, glossed-over eyes.

“You look beautiful” he whispers, his words are slurred from his drunken state, but they still carry so much honesty and love that it melts you.

The smile that teeters on your lips is uncontrollable and it only makes Cregan admire you even more. He leans back in his chair whilst he drinks the sight of you in with hungry eyes.

You rest your hand over Cregans as he squeezes your thigh gently. “Have you had a good day?” You ask as he nods his head, his big hand caressing your thigh lazily.

“The best… thanks to you my lady” he says with a soft chuckle at the way you give him an almost shy smile. He can’t help but adore everything about you… you’re beyond perfect, 'a gift from the gods' as Cregan always says.

“I’m glad, though, perhaps it is time to call it a day now?” You tell him as you take his calloused hand within yours. He hums in agreement as his thumb soothes against your palm.

Getting him back to your shared bedchambers was a very humorous challenge. You were practically dragging him along as he leaned onto you for support, his hands soothing against your hips and waist whilst you guided him through the cold halls of the Winterfell castle.

The fireplace warms your bedchambers, bathing the cosy room in a soft light, as it crackles and pops. Cregan watches you take off your jewellery before changing into your nightgown with a soft smirk, his eyes gleaming with fondness.

“Gods, look at you… an absolute goddess” he says, his raspy voice just above a whisper. He wastes no time in approaching you clumsily, his hands grasping needly on your body as he tugs you closer to him.

The giggle that escapes you leaves Cregan breathless and it certainly doesn’t help when your fingers begin to brush through his hair as you stand between his legs. He looks up at you with a smile as you cup his face gently… he simply can not get enough of you.

“You should sleep,” you tell him softly knowing how awful his morning fog will be. He shakes his head softly as he rests against your stomach, his hand still grasping at your hips.

“Not before I thank you properly… my queen” His tone is teasing as he lets out a soft chuckle at the way you gasp.

“Shh… your words are dangerously close to treason” you whisper softly as your hand moves to clasp over his mouth, you look down at him with an almost shy smile.

"My words will only be treason if someone hears them... and we are alone." He pulls your hand away from his mouth, his fingers caressing your wrist. The way you look when he praises you makes him crazy. Your eyes, your smile, you are beautiful.

He hugs you close, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "But you are my queen. You rule over my heart. No one could ever take that place from you."

The honesty and love that are woven within his each and every word takes you back, your expression softens and your eyes start to well up with tears. It’s an overwhelming feeling that warms your chest and makes your skin tingle.

You take a seat on the bed beside him with a soft sigh. His thumb wipes away your tears as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry… you’re far too pretty for that” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

A bright smile teeters on his lips at the sound of your precious laughter, he brushes your hair behind your ears before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“I love you, Cregan.” The words feel so natural and he absolutely relishes in the way you say it. He buries his face into the crook of your neck with a boyish smile.

“I love you too… my queen” he replies, his tone heavy with exhaustion as the alcohol starts to weigh on him however that doesn’t stop him from pressing lazy kisses all over your face, his hands soothing against your hips and waist whilst he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

Cregan will soon find sleep, with his arms wrapped around you and his face buried into your neck. You’ll have to tease him tomorrow about how much of an affectionate drunk he is.

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#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd cregan stark #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark imagine #cregan x reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark drabble #cregan stark blurb #cregan x y/n #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark fluff #cregan stark fanfic #cregan fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hbo house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fic #hotd cregan #hotd fluff #hotd x y/n

[misguidedasgardian]

The price of war, part 2

Part 1

Summary: You are getting accustomed to your new life as the Lady of Winterfell

Warnings: it is implied that reader has a "midsize" body or rather she is plus size, cursing, forced marriage, a bit of humiliation and degradation (just between them both), talks about body shaming (not towards reader), reader is concern her body will change, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy, body changing, SMUT, body worship, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation I think, might miss some warnings but you know me.

Notes: no please this will not become a story, I just felt kinky

This happens a couple of months after the first part, but BEFORE that little flash-forward

This wasn’t easy, not at all

Cregan was not going to support your brother, but he has decided to kept you with him

You married him a couple of days later after he had you, Jace even gave you away to him with a mocking stance after he himself took his liberties with you once in Cregan’s chambers

Only once

Because the wolf didn’t want to share you, he said so himself…

The trace of Jace’s hands vanished quickly from your body, Cregan had made sure of it

Now two months had passed and even though you were the lady of Winterfell, you barely left the castle, you barely did anything…

Your days consisted of rising up with Cregan inside of you, he would fuck you tired, when you’d come to your senses he would be finishing breaking his fast, leaving you with a small feast as he went away to deals with matters of importance to the biggest of the 7 Kingdoms. He wouldn’t tell you what he’d do… you thought because they were preparing for marching…

Against your family.

You’d spend your short days… as winter was coming… sewing, reading northerners history, and chatting with servants maids and people of the castle.

They were becoming… softer towards you.

They were sweet and nice but… there was a secret arrangement between the servants and soldiers of Winterfell… you were not to leave…

Nobody would physically stop you, but those days you dared go outside to the courtyard, you felt the soldiers sting you nervously, how the maids would never leave you alone…

So you’d return inside, it was chilly anyways

At night when Cregan returned, no matter how much you’d try to initiate conversation, he would quiet you with kisses and caresses, he would take you once and again, and those sweet times when you would lay over him, your head in his chest… you try to ask him about his day…

And he would imply, annoyed, that you didn’t need to know it…

He thought you were trying to spy on him

And that made you sad

Three full moons had passed since that fateful day you landed your dragon outside the double walls of Winterfell…

And all that time alone with yourself.. had make you more aware… self aware

Something was off, as you broke your fast… alone… the sole smell of those wild boar sausages made your stomach do somersaults inside of you…

You had been feeling.. heavier lately.. more sensitive, and now you wanted to throw up

Perhaps you were dying

Catched some desease that only southerners in the north could catch…

But oh you knew the truth, deep inside

You weren’t an idiot

The maid catched you with your hands in your sensitive breasts…

The maester was called, and your doubts dissipated

You were with child

Cregan was coming home tonight and you were waiting for him with a small feast and candles lighten

You… we’re conflicted about Cregan, he was gruff, a bit wild, but he never mistreated you, he was gentle and sensual with you, and wether you had liked it or not, he was your husband…

You just wanted to melt the ice around him…

So when he entered his chambers he found you waiting for him with a soft smile

He smirked

Now you were changing tactics… he thought… you were trying to soften him, get him to lower his guards… he found it endearing

“What’s all this my sweet lady wife?”, he asked, you got nervous all of a sudden

“I wanted to tell you something…”

The child you were expecting… it was not Cregan’s first born, he already had a son, Rickon, who he wouldn’t let you meet yet… he had no need of a heir, he already had one… so you’d imagine he didn’t care much, but if he didn’t want more children… he wouldn’t have bed you as much…

You only hope this could bring you both together

“Go ahead”, he encouraged

You knew he didn’t trust you

You had this plan to ease him into it, to start dining, to chat a bit about his day, and then finally you'd tell him about your condition, but his piercing gray eyes were drilling into your nervous stare, and he seemed impatient, so you guessed it was better to just tell him.

"I'm with child", you said with a small smile.

You were happy, you always wanted to have your own family, you did, perhaps it was your father's neglect, or your mother's stern interactions with you all, but you wanted to have children of your own, just so you could love them as much and as best as you could, because you knew you could do better than what you had

Cregan chuckled darkly

"Oh my sweet, innocent little wife, I had noticed already", he purred, with his usual smirk

"Uh?", you muttered, one of your hands in your yet somewhat flat belly

"Your tits are bigger, you get all whiny when I touch them, and your waist and thighs are thicker...", he said with a mocking tone, "So I already noticed, I just wanted you to tell me"

"Oh", you whispered. You didn't see a change in his attitude towards you, perhaps he wasn't extremely happy, maybe this was what he expected from you, so that's why he wasn't particularly excited

You looked down as your nose tickled, a tell tell sign that you were about to start crying

...and your waist and thighs are thicker...

You ahd noticed how your sisters' bodies changed, both of them, Rhaenyra had lost the figure she had, you don't remember her young and thin, but older, as your mother, and thicker, but you did remember Helaena, her body, after having the twins, became softer, rounder... Aegon had made sure to point it out shortly after she gave birth... while in his cups he mocked of how he didn't desire her now with her new body

He made her cry, Aemond had grabbed him and smacked his head against the stone floor of the dinning room until Alicent cried to stop him

"I'm sorry", you muttered, and now he looked confused, "I'm afraid is a thing Targaryen women suffer while carrying a child... they loose their figure..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for", he didn't mean it like that, he thought, alarmed, when he saw you were about to cry.

You thought he had insulted you, when for him was the opposite

He took two long steps and grab you softly

"I can't wait for you to get fat with my child", he growled, you looked up into his eyes to find his pupils enlarged, ready to pounce on you, "more for me to grab, to caress, to kiss..."

"Really?", you asked, suddenly embarrassed, not really believing him

"You don't believe me little one?", he growled, his big hands, even over your dress, surrounded your and grabbed you under your ass cheeks, making you whine in surprise, "you are even more beautiful than the day you arrived here, and each passing week you'll be even more", he leaned in and kissed you then, more like... he devoured you

You completely gave in as he trapped your lips with his, you already know how it went, but this time felt different

Before you even knew it, you heard it, he ripped your dress with one tug, in a second leaving naked to his eyes

"You are so fucking delicious... can't fucking wait till' you are all round for me", he whispered adoringly, made you want to cry but this time from happiness

Still with his hands on the back of your thighs, he managed to get you off the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist, as he took you to the bed

"It seems I wasn't clear enough", he said softly, "It appears that no matter all the times I've bedded you, you still think I'm not attracted to you, that I don't take you seriously as my wife"

He placed you softly to the bed, he accommodated between your thighs. He looked down at you, admired your form, and you wanted to cover your breasts at least, feeling watched so intently...

"ah ah ah", he chided, grabbing yours arms, preventing you from covering, "you are mine to see, remember?", he took his own clothes very quickly, until he was as naked as you were.

He was a magnificent creature, his muscles visible under his beautiful skin, his body thick, his chest ample, hsi arms and legs thick as logs... his... manhood... thick, generous, you had nothing to compare it with, but it was so big... thick as almost your wrist

"You like what you see too, don't you?", that devilish smirk that made your knees tremble

You were feeling more confident, now more desired so you nodded strongly

"Yes husband" you admitted, his smirk grew even more, and his big rough hands grabbed your soft thighs, squishing them, admiring them

"Who does this thighs belong to?", he asked then, looking down at you

"To you", you answered without even thinking

"And who does this belly belong to?", he asked grabbing your sides, squeezing a bit too

"To you", you repeated, a smirk of your own appearing in your mouth, his thick but nimble fingers sneaked between your thighs then, you jumped, buckling your hips when they teased your entrance, his thumb in your clit

"And this cunt?", he teased, "that will bear me many children"

"It's yours", you moaned, spreading your legs even further, asking for more... and he indulged you sinking in another finger, to tease your insides.

"Ah", you almost lost it when he found that special spot inside of you and bullied it relentlessly until you could hear the squelching sounds you were making

"All wet for me too", he teased, "so precious, my beautiful, desired little wife, all mine to breed"

You didn't know why his words turned you on so much but they did.

"Please...", you begged buckling your hips once his fingers abandoned your inside

"Please what?", he teased

"Please... I need you inside me", you begged, not caring anymore, he was your husband, you wanted him and he wanted you, there was no power play, no more no between you.

"I shall indulge you then", he said, pleased, his hands would not leaving your soft thighs, squeezing them, caressing them, his eyes never leaving your form... his pupils enlarged making his eyes seem all black, his teeth... in his mouth hunger for you...

"But firt", it happened fast, he layed on his belly between your thighs and sunk in your cunt

It made you scream the contact of his wet tongue between your tongues, your hand went to his wild hairs, the other to the sheets under you

You herd him, rather, you felt him chuckle between you, making goosebumps blossom in your skin. His rough hands in your thighs, his mouth, his wet large tongue. He devoured you like a man starved.

It was not the first time he'd done it, the first time you felt akward, he could sense it, it was less intense than this, more tense rather...

But not now, when you were coming undone for the second time, and he lapped at your juices like it was water and he was parched

He finally released you when he was satted and your legs were shaking around him.

He ludely wiped his mouth with his naked arm, smiling birghtly at you from above

"Fucking delicious", he but as moaned, "now that you indulged me, love, I'll indulge you"

"Wait... wait i can't"

"Yes you can, just take it my love", he teased, he took his hand wet with your arousal to his cock, stroking it. You whimpered, your senses heightened.

You whimpered again, but you welcomed him spreading your legs wider.

He entered you slowly but steadily, you melted under him as you felt every centimeter of his thick cock.

"Oh gods", you whined your head falling back

"It's not your gods, my love, it's me", he growled, "your loving husband"

He wasted no time in moving, retrieving himself until his very tip, making you whine and then he sank himself back inside you to the hilt, with more purpose this time

"You look so beautiful like this", he teased, "taking my cock, so full of it"

"I like it", its the only thing you were able to mutter, your mind clouded

"Of course you do", his strong arms were placed by the side of your face, you could see his muscles working as he kept himself from crushing you under his weight

His thrusts were deep and strong, you could swear the tip of his cock reached your belly every time.

"You are going to look so beautiful", he said, "more than you already do, but don't think this is going to end", he promised with a dark smile, "it will only get more frequent, I won't be able to keep myself from you", he kept ramming into you

The bed make dangerous sounds under you, threatening to break, you you didn't care

"Are you well?", he had to ask, your eye had rolled almost to the back of your head, you were shaking and moaning without restraint

"Please don't stop", you begged making him chuckled darkly

"I love you", he promised in the middle of his grunts, keeping his rhythm steady, just as you needed.

That did managed to slip in your mind

"You do?", you asked, grabbing onto his arms, looking into his eyes

"I fucking do, from the moment I saw you enter that room I knew, you belonged with me", he promised, as he resumed his thrusts, "I needed to have you, breed you", you moaned, feeling your orgasm building again, "and turn you into my little slut", you whined in protest but he quieted you down with a dark chuckle, "now here you are, desperate for my cock, aren't you?", you nodded quickly, "of course you are you little thing"

"Please", you begged

"Admit it", he teased, fucking you slowly

"I am, I love it", you whispered, giving up so easily, there was no reason to hide it

"Good girl", his hand cradled your cheek, his thumb caressed your cheek

"I love you too", you whispered, he fucked you harder, finally cuming inside of you

That triggered your own climax

You almost lost consciusness

You certainly missed your husband chuckling at you, leaving your form, and cuddling you next to him, after bringing you water

#cregan stark x y/n #cregan x you #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan smut #cregan x reader #cregan x y/n #cregan stark #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #targaryen!reader

[thewriterwithnoplan]

THE HIGHEST TOWER (1/2)

Summary: As a Princess of the Realm the chance to escape political marriage and abscond with your Promised was beyond anything you could wish for. When the time is right, your dragon will lead you to them and your mother will support your union. In return, you must do all you can to protect her claim, even if you must do so from within the very heart of the Greens.

Soulmate AU: Your animal familiar leads you to your soulmate.

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader (eventual), Aemond Targaryen x Reader (mentioned)

Word Count: 4296

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, just general character awfulness, some espionage, canon divergence, my first time writing for hotd.

Masterlist

You had lived the better part of eight and ten years in the Red Keep. The daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen handed off to the Queen like some paltry trinket. The King’s first and final word on the matter of his granddaughter. Thrust carelessly into Alicent’s care at the fresh age of ten, a peace offering and a trade for Lucerys’ life. You scarcely remembered life beyond the borders of the castle. Only that one moment your brother's life had been under threat and the next yours was all but forfeit.

Your mother had clasped the back of your neck, pulled you toward her and begged her father for mercy. You who had not even been in the room when Aemond had lost his eye, lost to your own midnight flight atop dragon back. And then the curtain of Rhaneyra’s hair parted, and from over her shoulder Daemon met your eyes. For a single poignant moment, he stared and then a smirk broke across his face as if he knew.

Knew that you were not the innocent that your mother would have the King believe you to be. Knew that your midnight rendezvous with your dragon at the exact moment of Vhagar’s claiming was not mere coincidence. Your intentions had been innocent at first. A trip to the kitchen for a cup of milk which you would warm on the stove – a feat the late Sir Harwin Strong had taught you. Past your brothers’ room, your mother’s room, the servants' quarters and a balcony overlooking the beach. And then you had seen him. Aemond scaling your cousin’s dragon. And that just wouldn’t do.

Targaryens – true Targaryens who did not cower under the cover of darkness – needed their dragons if they had any hope of finding their Promised. Your cousin, Baela who always shared her sweets and let you borrow her wooden sword, deserved the chance to meet her Promised in the wake of her mother’s death. The man or woman that Vhagar would lead her to when the Old Gods saw fit. In the game of thrones when Targearyens already found so few chances for happiness, how could Aemond strip his cousin of her chance at true love? True, as an eldest daughter Baela’s future husband was most certainly decided – likely one of your brothers. But you were certain that Jacaerys or Lucerys would be understanding and gracious when the time came for Baela to claim her Promised, as she would be when the time came for her Lord-Husband. Such was the way of things. At least for the lucky.

Imagining your dragon, Laesuvion, claimed by another and leaving you with no guide to your Gods-given Promised made you feel ill. And so, you set out on bare, hurried feet to find and mount Laesuvion. You were a Targaryen born of the blood of dragons, of true Valyrian features. Vhagar was your cousin’s dragon by right and it was your duty to protect that claim. She was a formidable, indomitable beast but shackled with a new rider on his first flight. If you had one chance to disrupt the yet fragile bond being formed by dragon and rider, it was to dislodge the green boy and send him toppling toward the sea.

Laesuvion had hatched for you in your cradle. He was much younger and smaller than Vhagar but all the faster. It would be no trouble to fell your traitorous cousin. The difficulty became disguising the shock of white scales along the elongated arch of Laesuvion’s neck whilst searching for Vhagar’s camouflaged breadth.

“Aderī Laesuvion. Dokimarvose.” (Quickly Laesuvion. Focus.) You urged him.

Despite your efforts, you only caught sight of them twice. Once among the clouds, though you were sure Aemond got a greater view of you than you did him. And again, as Vhagar was returning to land Driftmark. Your hunt had been unsuccessful. But you had been sure no one would suspect you of such vengeful intent toward your uncle. Except perhaps Daemon.

“It is a fair price, Rhaenyra,” Daemon’s smirk was cunning, “They will not harm her.”

The betrayal on your mother's face heated your blood. How dare he tell her what to do? Your mother, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne. This man who was no one, husband of no one, Prince of nowhere, heir of nothing. Who was he to command your mother? And now, to step toward you and attempt to pry you away from her. So close you could almost-

Almost hear the two of them whispering. To each other. To you.

“Think.” Daemon hissed, “They will demand her for Aemond sooner or later.”

“She is my only daughter.”

“She will still be your daughter in the Red Keep.” He kept up the pretence of fighting your mother, despite her arms having gone lax around you. “Not a bastard. Not a bargaining chip. Your daughter. At the heart of the greens.”

“She is a child.”

“A Targaryen child.”

“She is my child.”

“Then let her prove it.”

“Mother,” You warbled. “I don’t want to go.”

“Tala.” Daemon shifted, and his eyes met yours again as if you should know this word. You did not. “You will go. Make your mother proud. Learn at court. Find those who support her claim and those who will side with the Hightowers. You are weak and a girl, they will not suspect you. When the time comes you will be our most valuable weapon.”

“But I want to go home, Kepa.” (Father or paternal uncle)

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Rhaenyra held your face and brushed away your tears. “You will.”

“’Nyra.” Daemon warned.

“But not today.” She kissed each of your cheeks. “Today you must be strong for me. You must be strong for your brothers. You must do as Daemon says, we must keep them happy.”

And then your mother pulled you toward her firmly, pressed her lips to your ear and whispered a promise. A reward should you embark on this mission. Beyond sweets and silk dresses and extra time on Laesuvion. Beyond anything you had ever been promised or ever dreamed of asking for. Do this for your mother and she would exempt you from the chains of political marriage that would shackle each of your brothers. There was no guarantee you would be lucky like your brothers, married to one who would understand. But do this and you could have your Promised under the eyes of the Seven, the Old Gods, and the traditions of old Valyria itself. Even at 10, you knew that for a Princess and a second-born, there was no greater boon.

So, you did what you had to do for your one shot to truly be with your Promised. You squared your shoulders, kissed your mother's cheek, and stumbled toward Queen Alicent. She gripped you by the shoulder, tucked you into the folds of her skirt, and stared cruelly down her nose at your mother.

“Now I will have no more fighting.” Said the King and having satisfied his wife for the first time in their long marriage, he ambled off to bed.

As the crowd dispersed, Sir Criston Cole flanked the Queen and as a unit, the three of you marched from the room. Your mother, scarcely held together in Daemon’s embrace, gave one last warbling cry as you passed the threshold and disappeared, not to be seen again for nine long years.

You were kept that night in the Queen’s own quarters to thwart rescue or escape. Behind a bolted door and no less than three kings’ guards. And yet, that morning, upon waking with puffy eyes from silent tears and aching limbs from the harsh sitting room sofa, you found something that had not been there before.

A gift from Daemond, most assuredly, tucked under the pillow you had slept on. The handle was perhaps an inch too long for your small age, but the blade was curved and wicked sharp and would require little finesse to cause harm. Inlaid in the pommel was a single ruby, the size of your thumb and wonderfully smooth. Carved into the cross-guard flowing Valyrian script read valar morghūlis. (All men must die.)

You would call the dagger gaomilaksir, duty. You would carry it as a reminder of the promises you and your mother had made one another. One day, as Daemon had said, you would become her greatest weapon.

There had been few bright spots in your life as the Queen’s ward. So, few in fact, that you could count them on one hand.

One.

You could not fly. Such a thing would only encourage escape back to Dragonstone and your mother. But you could visit Laesuvion and watch him sweep through the clouds. He had grown much in your teenage years. Still lithe in build and elegant in frame, but more angular like an arrow strung tight. He did not take to Kings Landing, not in all your years trapped there. So used to the comfort of Dragonstone and your family’s own dragons, he often abandoned the Dragonpit entirely. Kept tethered to the Keep by your presence alone.

“Where is Laesuvion?” You were just shy of ten and two when you approached the Dragonkeeper Acolyte.

“Hunting, my lady.” He knocked his quarterstaff against the ground. “He flew north not three hours ago.”

“Do you not offer him food?”

The keeper lowered his head, “He refuses it, my lady.”

“Offer him better.”

“We give him our very best, lady. He is a magnificent but stubborn creature.”

“He is a dragon, not a creature.” You conjured up a playful grin. “And I am a princess, not a lady.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” The Acolyte blustered, “Shall I inform you upon his return?”

“That won’t be necessary,” You strode to his side and plunked yourself down to lean against the stone entrance. “I shall wait for his return here.”

And so, you did. Silently, for the better part of twenty minutes as the Acolyte threw furtive glances your way.

Until finally, “Truly, my lady. Your Highness. He could be hours still.”

Wonderful. You thought and cast a dazzling grin up at him. “Perhaps you ought to keep me better company then.”

And so, you began your mission. You charm the Dragonkeepers – Acolyte and Elder, all seventy-seven of them – who knew the princes and their dragons, their strengths and weaknesses. You befriend the maids, the scullery, the wet nurses, and the servants they bunk with. Piece by piece, inch by inch, you win back your mother's share of Kings Landing.

Two.

Strange though she was, your Aunt Heleana always welcomed you into her chambers. In your shared youth, she always had a critter clutched between her hands as if it were the most precious thing she owned. You are four and ten, a year younger than your aunt when she is forced to split her time between her menagerie of insects and the chubby masses of her twin babes.

“The young prince has lungs,” You smiled at Heleana as the wet nurse rocked a wailing Jaehaerys. “He will make glorious speeches when he is grown.”

“Only one.” She examined the creature in her hands. Today she favoured a centipede, passing Jaehaera onto you.

You had long since learned to ignore her ramblings, “The sweet Princess must be the wordsmith, then.”

“The fourth in an age.” Heleana startled as if only just noticing your presence. “Apologies, Hāedar. You wished to speak?” (Younger female sibling or cousin)

“No apologies necessary, Mandia.” (Older female sibling or cousin). The Valyrian word tasted foul. You had your own siblings on Dragonstone, those whom you had been stolen from and those whom you had yet to meet. But Heleana liked it when you pretended that you were not a prisoner, that you were her mother’s daughter and not her forcibly attained ward. And so you swallowed it with a smile, “Might we talk privately?”

Heleana startled again as she turned to the wet nurse. “Take the children to the nursery, Bria.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Bria gave an awkward curtsy, shuffled the still-wailing Jaehaerys to one side and received Jaehaera from your arms. Heleana turned to you expectantly as the trio disappeared through a side door.

“It is a sensitive matter I am afraid,” You eyed the centipede as it escaped her hands and crawled across her skirts. “I do not wish to cause offence.”

Heleana’s eyes pinched at the corners, “It is not such a terrible burden – to be a wife. Mostly he ignores you.”

“You misunderstand me,” You hurried. “I only wished to speak of your grandfather.”

“Not my brother?”

“Do you wish to speak of your husband?”

“No,” Heleana gave you a quizzical look. “I speak of Aemond, who will be your husband.”

“Aemond?” Your uncle who’s selfishness had trapped you here. One of Alicent’s precious children married to her living doll. The thought would have been hysterical were it not so frightening. Surely not.

“It is the natural progression of things. I was given to Aegon and now you to Aemond.” Heleana’s attention returned to the centipede. “One pairing to strengthen our house, another to mend its bonds. So says grandfather.”

“Oh Mandia. I am entrusted to your mother. There need be no marriage to bring me into the fold. We are family.” 

“Yes. So says mother.” Heleana stared. Not so blind as she seemed. “But grandfather always gets what he wants.”

And so, you are four years into your mission, having sat patiently by the Queen's side. Having listened and learned and noted those your mother can count on. Four years in and the time to begin quietly making moves had arrived with a head start from your oblivious Aunt.

But then you see the centipede crawl from her hands again and writhe across her skirt. And you think maybe Heleana’s warnings have more to do with where the critter is trying to lead her than it has to do with you.

Three.

It took you longer than you would like to admit to worm your way into Otto Hightower’s confidences – if there were such a thing.

You had quickly learned in your first year at the Keep that Alicent feared her father, distrustful of his greed and power lust. Not much unlike yourself, she had been sent into the greedy hands of a different house in pursuit of the Iron Throne. Were Otto not so blinded by his ambitions you might have begun to worry that Daemon’s strategy might ring familiar. But Lord Hightower’s strength was also his greatest weakness. So careful in his scheming, gently coaxing his will unto others, moving his pawns about the board, sacrificing all but himself, he could not see his tactics turned against him. Beyond your connection to Rhaenyra, you barely registered as a piece in the game.

Daemon had been right. Weak and a girl and not a threat. Not yet.

So, you worked tirelessly to endear yourself to Alicent. Just as you learned from her, you began to teach in turn. When you are in the room Otto Hightower dares not spin his lies about succession. When you appear around corners in search of your Queen-mother talk of hastening the king's condition ceases. When you are near, Alicent is safe. She begins to wear you like the expensive accessory you are, a decorative shield.

Hours trailing your Queen-mother to and from meetings of the small council, waiting patiently at her side as she sat in place of the King. Serving wine to fat and foolish lords.

And then finally, on the eve of your ten and fifth nameday, the Queen brings you along to the Hand's Tower.

“Father.” She greets.

“Alicent,” Otto brings you to his office, where a tea set for two lays steaming. “I see you have brought your shadow.”

The Queen barely glances your way as you serve her tea and then her father’s, before retreating to stand at her shoulder. She glares across her father’s desk, “This does concern her.”

“She is approaching her fifteenth year, two since her first blood. Time has well arrived for her to marry,” He stares directly at you then, “Have you any fondness for your uncle, Princess?”

“My lord, the Princes and I are often kept busy by our duties.” Your friends among the servants have divulged their schedules. You stay firmly away from drunken Aegon and selfish Aemond, remaining civil only with young Daeron.

“You must see reason.” Alicent implores her father. “They hold no affection for one another. Aegon and Heleana have already wed in the name of strengthening our family. To marry her would serve only to anger Rhaenyra.”

“And to bind her eldest daughter to us.” Interesting that he would say so openly in front of you. Perhaps you have been more effective in playing a Green than you had thought. “Aemond will be a good husband to her.”

“I have no doubt,” Alicent says and as silence stretches you suspect she is losing conviction; you have not saved her this time.

You clear your throat delicately, “If I may?”

“Of course, sweet pet.” Alicent reaches out to fuss with your hair. She likes it long and keeps its length to your hip despite how cumbersome it can be. Short hair is unbecoming, she claims.

You look to Otto in false deference, “My lord?”

“Very well.”

“I think,” You begin carefully. “Aemond and I may be of better use to you.”

“And how might that be?” He is condescending but you have his attention.

“When the time comes that grandsire passes on, I suspect the lords of the realm will need cause to back a claim to the Iron Throne. My Septa says that peace such as we have seen under his rule may bring unrest. I do not doubt that Aemond will make a fine and just husband. All I mean is that mayhaps it would be wise to keep us unwed until we may serve a greater purpose.”

No mention of your mother nor their ill-begotten plan for Aegon. Hightower's methods played against him.

“And when the time comes you will do this?” He demands.

“It is my duty to my house.”

He tilts his head as a predatory bird might. “You must swear it, to myself and to your Queen, upon your young brothers.”

To pause would mislay your ruse. To hesitate would be to sign your life away to Aemond Targaryen.

“I swear it, upon the lives of my brothers.”

He considered you for a moment, and then his daughter.

“You have done well with her, Alicent.” Your Queen-mother sighs as Otto Hightower stands. “Enjoy your tea, I have matters to attend to elsewhere. Perhaps you will be of more use than we originally suspected, Princess.”

Your first true victory. You will not be shackled to the Keep; you will be kept safe until your mother comes for you. Until such a time that you and Laesuvion can seek out your Promised.

Four.

The Queen held a strange fondness for you. Platinum-haired and purple-eyed, the spitting image of the Realm’s delight and perhaps the only trueborn among your siblings. She took pains to brush and braid your hair, dress you in green and flout you at court. Her perfect tamed Targaryen. Who would eat from her hand, take tea by her side, sit prim and silent as her Queen-mother decorated her. You were her walking-talking glimmering triumph over Rhaenyra.

At ten, Alicent’s obsession stole you from your mother. At ten and four, it protected you from a hasty marriage. And now, at ten and eight, it was your path to freedom.

“Mother?”

Oh, how Alicent loved it when you called her that. One more thing ripped from Rhaenyra’s thieving hands. Alicent pushed into your room with a tired facsimile of a smile and took the seat across from you by the roaring hearth.  

“My sweet pet.” She was dressed head to toe in full regalia. “I am so sorry to have missed you today.”

You tucked a piece of scrap paper into the book you had been reading, buying yourself time to school your features into innocent confusion. “As am I. My door has been locked. I am sorry I could not come to you.”

“A precaution – one that I fought.” Alicent reached for your hair, running her fingers through its length. “But we cannot trust you to betray your mother. Regardless of the years you have spent in our care.”

“I do not understand, mother.” But you do.

“Your grandsire is dead.”

You close your eyes, “Aegon is king.”

“Yes.”

“You did not wish for this.”

“I wish Viserys were still a living corpse. That he would outlive us all so that none could claim his cursed throne. Not Aegon. Not Rhaenyra. Not my father.”

“That is not a solution.”

She tugs at your hair harshly, “Foolish pet, there is none.”

You blink harshly. Your eyes scarcely holding back tears. For the first time since you left your mother's embrace, you are truly scared. No longer are you the meek girl who walks in the Queen’s shadow. Given liberties and protection in a twisted echo of her love for Rhaenyra. You are a living embodiment of what House Targaryen will be to House Hightower. A pretty little puppet kept from your dragon, cloistered away like some trophy, scrambling for a scrap of power to delude yourself that you have some control.

“What is to become of our house?” You whisper.

“Your mother and Prince Daemon remain on Dragonstone. No blood has yet been shed.” Alicent brushed your hair softly behind one ear. “We have sent Aemond to Storm’s End to do as you once suggested. To offer himself to one of the Baratheon girls, that Lord Borros might see reason and acknowledge Aegon as rightful King.”

Good, there were those beyond the Keep who remained steadfast and loyal. It was time to return to your mother, then. To tell her all you had learned these last eight years. To name her allies and set Daemon loose upon her foes. Now was the time.

“What of my brothers?”

Alicent leant back, “Scouts have spotted Vermax flying north likely as an envoy to rally support among the lords.”

“How could they have mobilized so quickly? Was Aegon not crowned mere hours ago?”

“He was, indeed.” Alicent’s gazed into the fire. “The Lady Rhaenys was not so welcoming of solitude as you have been.”

“She has gone to Dragonstone?”

“She has.”

“And no one has come for me?”

“They have not.”

For a moment you each stared listlessly into the hearth. When Alicent shifts back to face you, she has a letter clutched in her hand. It is crisp and of fine quality but most strikingly, stamped with the King’s seal.

“I am under no delusions,” Alicent says softly, mournfully. “You can no more contest your mother's claim than I can Aegon’s. We are matching pieces in this game, I think.”

Your fear swells, “Mother.”

“Please, my sweet girl.” She smooths the hair atop your head. “You must do me one last favour as my ward.”

“I don’t understand.”

She presses the letter into your hands. “Jacaerys will fly first to the Vale, to treat with House Arryn and then to Winterfell. You will take this and beat him there. You will do as you swore to do those years ago.”

“I ca–”

“Listen!” She jerked you by your shoulders. “You must listen. You will wed Lord Stark. He is as fine a match as any. The north is loyal to Rhaenyra and will remain steadfast, you will be well treated. You must go, with this missive from the King, his final wish to send you north to snow and safety. In return for your hand, they will take no part in the fighting, they will protect you as their own, until such a time that the victor is crowned. Do you understand me, pet?”

“The King never cared for me.” You said foolishly.

“And yet, with his dying breath, he spoke of you and of Aegon. That you would carry his legacy, that you would see out his dream to the North. That Prince Aegon was Promised to this kingdom. You must believe me. You must do this for your grandsire.”

“I do believe you mother.” She was deluded. “I will do what must be done.”

Alicent has offered you one gilded cage for another. You will not be fool enough to fall into this one. You will find Laesuvion and be gone in the dead of night. You tuck the King’s missive into your book and smile at the Queen.

“Shall we call for tea, mother? You have much to tell me. I hear I have missed a coronation.”

Five.

You shape your fifth and final joy as the Queen Alicent’s Ward whilst escaping her clutches. You take three sharp detours on your path to the Dragonpit. First, to the chamber of the small council where you snatch the King's ball of quartz, you will make a gift of this to your mother. Then to the creche where the Keeper’s turned a blind eye as you pilfered three precious Dragon eggs. Finally, you find yourself ascending the steps of the Lord Hand’s Tower. To take the Dowager Queen from the Greens would be the greatest gift to your mother and her cause. But Alicent, despite her many faults, had been as kind to you as one might be toward a favourite pet. And so you do as a pet would – you do not bite the hand that fed you. Instead, you do both your Queen-mother and the woman that birthed you, a favour. You find Otto Hightower asleep in his study and you pass onto him your final gift from Daemon Targaryen.

You leave gaomilaksir in the heart of Hightower as you flee north, your duty complete.

(Part 2 : The Winter Keep)

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #queen alicent #alicent hightower #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #otto hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen

[elorday]

— ✪ valerie's may fic recs

thank you so much for all of these writers for making me smiling with a lots of butterflies in my stomach, making my mouth hanging agape, or crying so hard and sweating hot. i really can't thank you enough<3

some fics contain nsfw (✦)

𖥔. SCREAM—

⭒ — ETHAN LANDRY

✦ title taken : @astermath

20/20 vision : @echnated

slyther-in to my heart?! : @ghostfacd

✦ “it's okay, i'll show you.” : @messylustt

sleepy : @corpsebasil

bejeweled : @xyzstar

𖥔. ENOLA HOLMES—

⭒ — SHERLOCK HOLMES

we'll be alright : @love-strawberry

✦ exactly what you need : @delicate-moon-princess

bewitched : @cinebration

what happens after death : @hannibals-favourite-meal

𖥔. HOUSE OF THE DRAGON—

⭒ — AEMOND TARGARYEN

would you love me if i were a worm? : @chiss-and-crackers

valentine's day : @vhagarlovebot

you belong with me : @mybeautifuldelirium

⭒ — CREGAN STARK

among dragons and wolves : @fairysluna

✦ dissolve : @vermithorn

the snow fairy : @wackapedia

⭒ — HARWIN STRONG

✦ i am his and he is mine : @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics

keep you save : @auroraborealyss

✦ princess : @faith-forgxtten-land

𖥔. BRIDGERTON—

⭒ — BENEDICT BRIDGERTON

drunk sketches : @delehosies

little things : @inpraizeof

⭒ — ANTHONY BRIDGERTON

✦ right in front of me : @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

✦ melt away : @healmydesires

𖥔. F1—

⭒ — DANIEL RICCIARDO

meet me at midnight : @fleetwooods

don't wipe away my love : @avisgrace

memories hold me hostage : @libraryofloveletters

it's okay, i'm here : @norrisleclercf1

still into you : @starkwlkr

⭒ — CHARLES LECLERC

when you're missing me : @silverstonesainz

name(s) of love : @kiwisa

𖥔. SPIDERMEN—

⭒ — TASM!PETER PARKER

lean in, lean out : @literaila

i know : @vivwritesfics

✦ hold you here, my loveliest friend : @p3mybeloved

clingy : @bruisedboys

⭒ — MIGUEL O'HARA/SPIDERMAN 2099

i need you to stay : @intoxicated-chan

mid night : @eyelessfaces

⭒ — PAVITR PRABHAKAR

dance with you tonight : @foreverwiththeunknown

⭒ — MILES MORALES

cheesecake : @ichorai

first kiss : @moralesie

𖥔. DC—

⭒ — ADRIAN CHASE / VIGILANTE

five times vigilante definitely does not have feelings (and the one time he does) : @tropes-and-tales

now or never : @whirlybirbs

⭒ — BRUCE WAYNE / BATMAN

talk : @ichorai

𖥔. JOHN WICK—

⭒ — JOHN WICK

one-sided love : @desoolate

remember me : @arece

⭒ — MARQUIS VINCENT DE GRAMONT

stay : @unreliablesnake

✦ something wrong with me and you : @fonteyn

𖥔. LOCKWOOD AND CO.—

⭒ — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

the language of longing looks and stolen glances : @fleetingvow

just another love song : @tangledinlove

public displays : @vi-trying-to-survive

ain't a life many splendored thing? : @wellgoslowly

#✭: valerie's monthly recommendations #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #adrian chase x reader #bruce wayne x reader #john wick x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #ethan landry x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #pearls divider is from and by @inklore #tasm!peter parker x reader #miles morales x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #pravitr prabhakar x reader #valerie's recs —

[blakeswritingimagines]

Reaction to you asking for a kiss

Aegon: He smiled and leaned towards you, allowing you to close the distance the same as he does, as he reached out to lay his hands on your waist. As you get closer, he presses his lips to yours softly and tenderly. The passion he holds for you burns brightly and warmly, and he presses his lips more firmly to yours as passion begins to take hold.

Aemond: He'll hold your face in his hands and pull you into a long passionate kiss. He holds you close pulling you into his chest. Making you feel safe in his arms. He then runs his fingers through your hair, down the back of your neck, rubbing your shoulders and caressing your skin. Causing you to shiver.

Jacaerys: His lips curl up into a confident grin, and his dark eyes shift their focus from your face to your lips as he leaned in close. Your noses brush against each other and the warmth of your breathing creates a small cloud of condensation between you. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, the heat of your bodies mingling together as you share this moment of passion. Your lips touch and the world fades away, the only thing that matters is the sensation of your mouths and tongues melding together.

Rhaenyra: "Come here" She'll reply, leaning down to kiss her partner. Your lips lock softly at first. Your tongues twine, exploring one another with passion and ease. Her hands run up and down the curves of your body, enjoying the way you fit against her. Your lips part and you kiss deeply again. This time your lips stay open and your breaths mingle as your tongues explore one another. You'll break apart, both breathless and hungry for more.

Daemon: It depends on how he feels in the moment. If he is just doing it for the sake of doing it, he would feel nothing - no warmth, no rush of endorphins. But if he truly loves you, then he would feel that rush, that warmth, and his body would tingle with every kiss. It is as if your bodies and minds were merged together, and every kiss would be an intoxicating bliss.

Alicent: She pulled you in close and pressed her lips firmly to yours. Your lips respond willingly, meeting hers with passion and warmth. As your tongues gently dance together, she slides her hands between you and pulls your body close against hers as your bodies melt together.

Helena: She would wrap her arms around your waist, bringing herself fully into your embrace. After gazing into your eyes for a moment, she would place her hands gently on your face and lean in slowly, taking care not to make it too sudden. Her hand would hold the nape of your neck as the kiss began, with her fingers sliding through your hair as she brought her lips to meet yours.

Harwin: He would look you in the eyes and wait. He would wait for a couple of seconds, and in those moments, he would take in your beauty. your delicate features, sharp and vibrant, and your soft lips. He would watch your breath slow and still, and he would notice how the air would catch in your throat and then leave in a sigh. And then... He would move in slowly and kiss you. Gently and softly, but with longing and passion.

Cregan: Cregan would probably react by kissing you tenderly, pulling you in close, and wrapping an arm around your hip. He would start off slowly and sensually, then speed up as he felt the desire growing and your responses becoming more passionate. He would tease your lips with his tongue before opening his mouth fully and allowing your tongue to explore his mouth as well. He would make you feel so desired and loved in his embrace, the heat of your bodies filling the air.

Criston: He smiles at you and leans forward, pressing his lips against yours softly. Your tongues intermingle and your breath becomes tangled between you both. Your arms wrap around one another, pulling each other closer. As your lips part you continue to stare into each other's eyes, letting your thoughts and senses intermingle together in a deep connection of passion and understanding. Your heartbeat pulses in sync, a symbol of your eternal love.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #helena targaryen x reader #ser harwin x reader #cregan stark x reader #criston cole x reader #house of the dragon

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 9)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: this is the chapter that i have been looking most forward to writing. I have thought about it again and again. I'm sorry if the major angst wasn't what you were expecting but i added an extra paragraph at the end so it isnt too traumatic <3

Series Masterlist

WARNINGS: smut (not the fun kind), forced marital consummation for them both...

WORD COUNT: 1,334 words

You look so small in his arms as he carries you to the bedchamber, like a delicate flower that will fall apart if he holds you too tightly. No words are shared between your husband and yourself during the walk; an air of uncomfortable tension surrounds the two of you. Even when you enter the room and he places you down ever so gently, there are no words for a few moments.

“Perhaps you would like some water? Or some time to allow the effects of the alcohol to fade?” You’re drunk. He knows it. You know it. You’re swaying occasionally as he speaks.

“I would rather not.” You breathe out. The drunkenness is intentional. You don’t want to remember this night if you need not to.

“Are you quite sure? I think it would just be beneficial if-”

“I would like to have it over with.”

He cringes. It’s not the words a man wants to hear from his wife on their wedding night. He had always assumed his wedding night would be the best of his life, something filled with love and passion. He sees now that he was dreadfully wrong.

“If this is not something you wish to do today…”

“The marriage must be consummated.” It’s a practiced thought.

He thinks for a moment… then gives in. “I will do my best to make you comfortable. Come.” He beckons you over to him and you apprehensively make your way to your new lord husband. 

His hand moves your hair out of the way as your back faces him. His fingers move to the ties of your dress and he starts to undo it. You feel cold when it’s tugged down, even with the fire heating the room. You stand in front of him now, only in your slip as he gazes down at you. You thought he would look more hungry, more lustful.

“May I take this off?” He murmurs, his fingers toying with the strap of your slip. 

You know it is traditional to be bare for the act but just the thought of a man seeing you naked, even if he is your husband, makes you shudder.

Cregan senses your unease and speaks again, “Perhaps I should rephrase myself. Do you wish for me to take this off? You need not say yes just because it is expected, my love.”

“I-I would rather not.” You say with a shaky voice.

“Then you will keep it on. You will have to take off your small clothes though, but I think you should do that yourself.” He says carefully before unbuttoning and removing his tunic to give you a sense of being on the same level but looking at his bare chest does nothing but make you feel… strange.

You move slowly and he looks away as you pull your underwear off from beneath your slip. He then takes your hand to lead you to the bed but you pull it out of his grasp and crawl onto it yourself, looking at him with as straight of a face as you can muster.

“Will you have me on my front or back?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you like me to lie on my stomach or my back?” You ask emotionlessly.

“Um… well whatever is preferable for you. I thought, perhaps, you would allow me to do something first, to prepare you?” He kneels before you, between your legs. His fingers play with the hem of your chemise, ready to lift it and place kisses up… up… up. “You would enjoy it, I promise.” The look in his eyes is warm, an attempt to be comforting.

“No, I don’t want that.” You move back like a spooked mare. He may be about to bed you but that is far too intimate. “I want it done with.”

“You’re trembling. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You don’t frighten me.” You protest, almost offended, even if you are afraid. 

“I won’t hurt you… or i’ll try not to.” You’re tense and a virgin, it would be lucky if he didn’t hurt you a little bit. “I’ll be gentle. I’ll take care of you.” He tries his hardest to reassure you but to no avail.

You roll onto your stomach so you don’t have to look him in the eyes, so he can’t see the tears that are threatening to fall. “Please just make it quick.”

Quick and gentle aren’t usually two things that go hand in hand but he wants to do his best to make it easy for you. Over and done with he thinks as he lifts your hips to place a pillow under them so you’ll be more comfortable.

“It will sting at first but we’ll go at your pace. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”  You don’t say anything for a few seconds. “I need to know you understood me, darling.”

“I understand.” The short statement is enough for him.

 He lifts your slip until it only covers your bum. Usually he would feel himself harden at the sight of such plush thighs but your discomfort makes it difficult to arouse himself. He pumps his hand along his shaft, feeling it finally get stiff. He then spits on his hand so he can at least provide some lubricant even with you refusing his attempts of preparation.

You almost shiver when you feel the head of him against your folds and your eyes screw shut when he starts to push in.

The resistance. The resistance of your body makes him feel sick to his stomach. He’s never had a time with a woman where he didn’t just slip in with ease and now he’s just forced himself into his unwilling young bride.

“I should stop.” He breathes out.

“That is all it is?” You thought it would last longer.

“No, but you don’t like it.”

“I won’t like it anymore another day.”

Gods he feels worse now. Will it always be awful for you? Will you never be happy as his wife?

He starts to thrust in and out of your warmth anyhow. If he can’t please you then he at least won’t prolong your misery. It stings no matter how slow he goes, your body isn’t used to such a stretch. He holds your hips carefully, wanting nothing more to kiss you gently and tell you how beautiful you are, how good you’re doing. He just knows that such sentiments would fall on deaf ears.

It goes on for a few minutes. The tears that were held in your eyes are now fallen as you bury your face in the pillows. You don’t want him to see how weak you are. It’s pathetic to cry over something that every woman goes through. Your tears won’t make you feel less ruined, they won’t stop the mixing of his seed with your maiden’s blood. When it’s finally over, all you can do is hope that there is a son in your belly so you’ll never have to warm your husband’s bed again.

He hears your muted sobs for only a few minutes before you’re quiet. It’s been more than a long day and he’s pleased you have found your rest. You shift in your sleep, your body never used to the cold as you turn to face him. He wishes he could make you as content in waking day as you are in sleep. Cregan’s hand brushes the hair off your face. He knows there’s no woman in the world so beautiful. Any man would be pleased to have you… but you’re not truly his.

Your brows furrow as you feel the chill in your sleep. You subconsciously look for warmth and you unintentionally find it in the man that lies next to you. Cregan isn’t sure what to do when his delicate bride starts to cling to him but he can’t prevent the small smile from crossing his lips. At least an unthinking part of you finds solace in him.

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#lord husband #cregan fic #cregan stark smut #cregan stark fic #cregan stark #cregan #Hotd #Hotd fic #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader