Summary- To unite their houses, Cregan weds a daughter of House Lannister, but the couple struggles to find harmony in their marriage.
Pairing- Cregan Stark x Lannister!Reader
Warnings- None. Timeline where the Greens lose the war. No use of Y/N
Word count- 6268
The North teaches her, before all else, that silence is a force unto itself. It presses in from every side as the gates of Winterfell close behind her, iron groaning like something alive. No music nor golden banners snapping in the wind. Only drab, grey stones, tired from the years of being weathered down. A far cry from Casterly Rock.
She pressed her hands together; the lined fur of her gloves scarcely kept the bite at bay. She hastily rubbed her arms, the delicate fabric of the South not enough to keep her from the ice prickling at her skin. She refused the heavier furs, favouring the artistry of her silks over the drab wools.
"Lady Stark." The title sits wrong. Not because it is unfamiliar but because it does not feel right, not yet, not perchance ever.
She turned to her husband. The thought that she was now bound by her words and the gods, witnessed by anyone who mattered, did not settle right. She cursed her father, and his fickle honour swaying between the Blacks until finally siding with the Greens. Had he kept his oath, there would be no need to reconcile with the North. She would not be cast away to the snowy hills and certainly not married to the Warden of the North. The union was swift. Her father opted for the wedding to proceed upon arrival. He was insistent that it was better for the houses, but she knew well that he did not wish to linger in Winterfell. Not that Cregan appeared to mind, preferring her father far from Winterfell, too. As stoic as he stood, she remembered the thinly veiled contempt for her father as they met. She wondered if his contempt lingered around her.
"Lord Stark," hateful she might be, but disrespectful she was not.
Despite her proud figure, he impeded her, and he was nothing like what she had heard in the many stories. None of the wolfish savagery whispered in southern halls. Cregan Stark stands still as the stone around him, dark eyes steady, unreadable. Judging. Was he judging? She was not sure.
"You ought to be tired from the journey and festivities?" He was hard to read, and his voice conveyed no hint of his inner emotions. There was no warmth, but it was not cold.
She turned slightly, her gaze sweeping across Winterfell’s proud walls. Yet for all its vaunted majesty, it seemed cold and hollow beside the splendour of Casterly Rock. "I find the cold wears me more than the road, my Lord."
"Then you will find the North tiring indeed."
"There is scarce choice on the matter." The words hung brittle in the air.
Her words slipped sharper than she intended. She pressed her lips together as if to catch the rest hanging from her lip. She did not mean to sound so bitter, but surely, he felt similarly to her. He did not appear eager when the two promised their life to each other. A man bound by duty. That she was assured he was. His honour praised for its unbound ends. The North desired reconciliation, and she knew he would honour that duty before he would yield to his personal desire.
"Shall we retire?" He offered. Perhaps it was a desire to end the meeting rather than out of compassion.
She nodded, heeding his lead. She found herself grateful for the flowing hot springs beneath the house. It was a welcome warmth to her foolish desire to remain in southern attire. In its size, it was easy to lose herself in the halls. Cregan led them up the Great Keep until they arrived at their chambers.
He stood by the threshold of the chamber, allowing her to enter first. The room was dully lit by the hearth in the corner, burning for what she deemed was only a short amount of time. The chamber was minimally occupied. She assumed from its lack of life that it was to be her chambers. Confused, she turned back to her husband, who remained firmly planted at the entry.
"You do not wish my comfort tonight, my Lord?" There was bite to her words, slightly offended to be cast away.
Cregan viewed the thinly veiled offence in her expression and sighed. "I do not profess a profound understanding of the female nature. Something you will come to see my wife." his voice was gentle and sturdy, finding the right words to avoid offending her further. "But I assume I am not wrong in saying you do not wish me to take you to bed."
She gave a derisive laugh at the conceit. She supposed he thought her too tender in years to fathom what was decreed to occur upon a wedding night. "I have long since shed the childish dreams of knights and bridal chambers," She assured him, standing proudly before him as a woman. "I know full well what consummation is, my lord. Let us have it done, if it must be done tonight." Her shoulders straightened, hands fumbling at the silk of her bodice.
In turn, Cregan expressed offence to her, displeased at her insinuation, "Forgive me, but I hardly wish to take a woman to bed simply as she wishes to be over with it."
The bite of his words spread a reddish flush upon her cheeks, but she could not cast away the bitterness that sat at the back of her throat. "As you wish, my lord." She grasped the knob of her door, bowing before she bid him goodnight.
She turned to the hearth and seated herself before the flame. The delicate fabric lay bundled at her side. Long she gazed into the fire, yearning for the distant halls of home. At length, she rose, her eyes grown weary, unable to endure the light. She bathed, and thereafter withdrew to the chill of her sheets, where silence received her.
Mornings in the North, as was ever presumed, dragged on with tedious slowness. She assumed monotony when she wed Cregan, but had not anticipated how long the day would stretch and how little they would change. She knew of the duty that came with becoming a Lady of a house. Trained at the hand of her mother, there was not much difference between Casterly Rock and Winterfell.
For all that it was, she was grateful that the house required much maintenance, as it did not allow her to be idle for extended periods of time. She had come to love only a few hours of her day as she attended the maester with Rickon.
The boy was sweet. Shrouded by his youth. He did not care much for lessons, preferring to play at his young age. She adored the unfiltered happiness found nowhere else in the house. He took to her well and grew used to his presence in his daily life. On occasion, he mindlessly called her mother. A title that invoked a strange sensation of dread and warmth in her belly.
There was not much joy beyond her time without Rickon. The house did not seem to take to her. While no one would dare openly sully her name, it seemed no one had taken a liking to the Lannister. The North was proud, and she knew it to be. They swiftly aligned with the Blacks, giving their promise to the Queen. They would rather face the blade and turn back on their word. They would hardly take a liking to the girl fathered by a man who so openly broke his oath. She did not enjoy her days governing their house. She did not enjoy how often her counsel was sought. How often she found herself overseeing household disputes. How she dreaded dining with Cregan, as neither of them thawed since the day they joined names.
She had attempted in her loneliness to approach her husband. Perchance her attempts proved too ardent, or too faint to catch his eye. She doubts the latter. Cregan was a man weathered by the weight of the world. He surely could tell that his wife wished more from him than merely his presence. Still, he found himself in a picture of honour. Denying her advances with the utmost tenderness or saving her the embarrassment by never seeming to acknowledge them. It grated on her.
She completed her plate, gently placing it to the side. Cregan wished they would dine together every day. The evening tended to be quiet as Cregan often found himself occupied with his tasks well into the night. She did not complain. On the nights he found himself free of his duties, the day always seemed to end with a dispute.
"Silk was not made for the North," He spoke, glancing at her slightly shivering form as he diverted his eyes from the parchments before him.
She did not engage in the discussion. They often found the cause of many disputes. There was always a chill to her form. Time and time again, Cregan offered the warmth of Northern furs. Time and time again, she refused.
"Rickon has taken well to his studies." She attempted the friendlier topic.
Cregan smiled, warmth spreading across his features. An evident deep love for his child was obvious to all. Something they began to share. "The Maester informed me he is rowdy and has trouble staying seated."
Her smile mirrored his own. "Do not all boys of his years struggle the same? Let us be grateful that he is sharp in his understanding."
His smile lingered, a rare sight against the stone of his face. She shifted in her seat, the weight of his silence pressing harder into her side. She fiddled with her plate, aligning the cutlery neatly beside it. It was impossible to know what lay behind those eyes, and the not-knowing scraped at her like ice. He flicked through parchment, straightening the edges as he let the silence linger.
"You?" His voice cut the silence clean. He let his gaze rest on the parchment, turning it like a shield rather than a text to be read. "You are well?"
His gentleness splintered the armour of her pride. He rarely inquired about her days. She had never even stopped to wonder if she was well. "I," She stuttered, finding her footing, "I am well, you need not worry."
"You are my wife. I worry." The words were simple, but they had their effect.
She pressed a hand to her bodice containing the warmth that blossomed beneath her chest. She wished not to be so affected, but it had been some time since she was inquired about herself. Her hands stilled in her lap, caught in the face of revealing too much. The bitterness in her throat, which always threatened to rise, felt wrong. Suddenly, she did not feel the need to respond with a scathing comment. She had yet to learn much about her husband. Their conversations never delved quite into their inner worlds. She knew with some certainty he would appreciate honesty.
"I miss my home." Her voice was reminiscent not of a Lady but rather of a young woman thrust out of her element.
He nodded, expecting such an answer. "Do you wish to return?"
It was not so much a question as it sounded like an invitation. She imagined the nights spent alone and how, perchance, they were no different from her life in Casterly Rock. There were good things in Winterfell. Even if she declined to admit so. And Casterly Rock was shrouded in shame due to her oath-breaking father. At the very least, she had some semblance of respect as Lady Stark. Even as it took many of the house to accept her as such. From time to time, she still felt singled out by their gazes.
He pressed her not for reply, but was content in the lingering hush whilst she gathered her words. He kept his eyes fixed on her, his mouth resting against his clasped hands. Often, she found him in such a position. Grappling with the world but refusing to ask more of her.
"I do not know what I want." She admitted reluctantly the words lingering in their prolonged silence.
He hummed, face showing no sense of judgment. "Seldom do we."
She nodded, feeling relieved that he found no offence in her words. It was suffocating to feel so stagnant and restless at the same time. Her days are ruled by monotony and are often lonely. Despite her apprehension of her husband, she almost found herself offended by his lack of presence in her life. He knew him to be a busy man ruled by his honour and duty, but could not help but feel that even while near, he was not close.
"What do you want, husband?" She softly cut through the silence. It was uncomfortable for her to bear any sense of vulnerability, but both were uncomfortable to begin with.
"What is it you mean?"
"I may not know what it is I want from life, but there are certain things in life we are sure we know." She urged, leaning over in his space. "Certainly, you have an idea what you wish from me?" Her voice remained soft, broaching the matter with a delicacy he was not prepared for.
"You are my wife."
His response hardened her once more, the softness slowly seeping from her. She turned her body and diverted her eyes. Bitterness prickled up her spine. "You do not answer my question?' Agitation seeped from her form. "I am your wife in name," Her nails bore into the soft flesh of her palms. She let out a soft hiss at the pain, voicing rising at him. "But not where it matters. If what you wished was a Lady for your house, why not let your sister continue the position?"
Cregan knew little of what to do in the face of a woman's scorn. Especially when it was evident to all, even her, that he had not wished to make her feel so. "We wed because your father-"
"My father was fickle in his honour. An oath -breaker. I am well aware of his transgressions, Cregan." She was abrupt in her words, allowing no space for him to continue. Her fists clenched at the silky fabric with enough strength to tear it. "I fail to see how his transgressions are my own. The man could not rebel if he made any attempt to. Surely you saw more to our union than a means to a political end."
Cregan did not rise to meet her anger but calmly soothed her words. "Did you wish for more from our union?"
"Do not ask what I wish for. You gave little thought to the matter when the marriage was decreed, long before I was told of it."
Cregan sighed, sitting back in the wood of his chair. The partchment askew, forgotten in the midst of their anger. He knew she was not intent on working through til they were satisfied. He was aware she appeared solemn and exhausted most evenings. Her dresses and hair show the length of her day. There was no one to bear her frustration to, and perchance he had avoided it. She was prideful and very stubborn, especially when he did not rise to meet her in such moments.
"I do not wish to make you unhappy, wife." He dragged his hands down his face with the same stoic expression. Only now his weariness seeped through the cracks.
"The sentiment is there, but that's all it is, is it not, Lord Stark? You wish not to make me unhappy, but seldom do anything to make me happy." She could not possibly turn further away from him, despite how much she wished to. She teetered at the end of her seat, hiding her face as she admitted what she had not wished to bring up. "You have not even taken me to your bed."
"Is that the source of your frustration, wife?" It sounded like a tease, but she refused to hear it as such, to not lean further into that shame.
She did not wish to discuss it. Her body tensed, and if she could, she would bolt to her chambers. It shamed her to beg for a husband’s claim, yet more bitter still was the thought that he did not desire her. Despite her conflicting feelings, she was alone and that loneliness festered the more he denied his affection.
He sighed as she went quiet, leaning to force her to face him. "It is hard to give you what you want when you are so unsure of what it is you desire."
She wanted to take offence but grew tired as her pride controlled every conversation. Her face flushed, the bodice of her dress tightened as she inhaled. Her eyes diverted, wandering to everything but her husband's face. He sensed the shame radiating from her. He did not wish for her to feel ashamed, much less with him.
"May I retire to my chambers?" Her voice was soft, a softness that bore at his chest.
He smoothed her hair back, placing a kiss upon her brow, hoping that in any way it could soothe her, "Sleep well, wife."
The days that passed were no better. The conversation left her bitter at night and had seeped through her day after day. She wished not to face him and, in some twisted way, hoped to punish him with her absence. She hurried through her duties, finding times in which it was best to avoid her husband. She felt ashamed of her behaviour, sensing the petulance herself. As the days dragged on, she could not find a reasonable explanation as to why she continued on with her petulant behaviour. She had learned his routine well, and all it took was strategic timing. It did not help that he knew her routine just as well. He knew she had to attend to Rickon for most of the morning, and she could not really escape his presence.
"Are you avoiding me?" His voice hushed as he watched his wife lower his son. She jumped, almost waking the boy, before turning, her jaw clenched.
"Yes." She hissed through her teeth. Agitation seeped through her voice. Despite her tumultuous feelings, there was no reason to lie to her husband.
Cregan paid no mind to her tone. "Why?"
The softness in his tone raked down her spine. Words eluded her for some time. Her hand craddled the back of Rickon's head as she lowered the boy into his bed for a mid-morning rest. Cregan smiled at her figure, gentle and kindly compared to how he saw her usually. She pulled the pelts on the boy's bed til they covered him with their warm embrace.
She did not honour him with an answer for some time, ensuring the boy was comfortable. Mainly, she did not know what to say to explain her petulant behaviour. "I never seem to know what's right with you. When we are together, we fight, and when we are apart, I miss you." She uttered, mindlessly running her hands over the pelts, soothing the boy.
He could not deny the truth in her voice. The union was not faring well to the side of ease, not as he had hoped. He did not blame her for her nature, which was expected of a Lannister. He had not anticipated someone to match his stubbornness. He could not absolve his behaviour, for he surely was not the husband she expected.
His silence pressed on her, and the doubt pressed on the pit of her stomach. "Are you ashamed of me?" She asked so gently.
The question evidently confused Cregan. He lowered his body beside her, mindful not to wake the boy. "What could compel you to have such thoughts?"
Her face gave no way to what she truly thought, only that it was complicated. "I feel ashamed of what my father did. I have felt displaced ever since."
He sighed, running his hand up her back to soothe her just as she had done to Rickon "It was not your transgression, my lady. I am sorry if I led you to believe that is what I thought of you."
Her brows furrowed. "It is my transgression, is it not? Just as names and blood are passed down, are our mistakes not passed just the same?"
He wished to deny her words, but they rang with a sour truth. "I will not hold you to the transgressions of your kin, much less of your father."
"Then I cannot understand why you will not see to make me your wife."
Her voice lost its gentleness once more, and he sighed as he heard the contempt blossom in her chest. "You are my wife. You do not need to be taken to hold that place. Much less will I take an unwilling woman to prove such a thing."
She refused once more to dignify him with a response, but she did not turn from him. Cregan could see as the storm raged within as she wrestled in her own mind. He found her avoidance irksome, though he could not deny that for a time he had done likewise. He wished to soothe her doubts. That he saw her as his partner. To face her was to confront the truth of his own deeds. To stand before her was to own the faint truth in her words.
She sucked on her teeth, contemplating her words. "As much as it appears to you that I do not want you in my bed," her words did not bite as they so often did in such times between them, just tired. "It feels as though you do not see me as your wife. I feel as though I am tied to your contempt for my father. I wonder honestly if you truthfully wished for a wife."
Cregan wished to push past the rise her words conjured, still mindful not to wake his son. "You surely do not believe such a thing?"
"I do not know what to believe with you, Cregan." She sighed, body tense but weary. "I feel it's a fight to broach such topics with you and never seem to get an answer."
She leaned forward, closing the space between the two. He wished to reclaim space. To back down from the intensity radiating from her. She did not allow such a thing. She pressed on, voice urgent, allowing no space for him to hide. "Do you wish for a wife? Do you hold any desire for me?"
"Yes." His answer was hurried as if still offended by her accusation. He had grown accustomed to her presence, her care for his son. His house was less lonely with her, even as they were at odds with each other. Even as every meeting was stifled with latent contempt and resentment, he could not deny his growing affection. He felt that often his shortcomings with his wife were not due to her behaviour but his lack of trying.
Her body relaxed into the warmth spread through her chest at his admission. Bitterness still burned at the pit of her belly, as so much was wrong with their union, but it was dulled. Satisfied by some admittance that he did desire her at least. It did not alter the looming fragility of their marriage, but it did well to dull the worry she had seeped into herself.
He sat plainly at her side, allowing the closeness to linger. It was seldom she appeared happy at his side, and for the time, she was. He would, in turn, wage a silent battle with his heart alone, lest he not spoil her peace. Despite her rage, it was better that she was around. The loss of Arra and the war greatly bittered his life. And for all that was, his wife was not horrid in nature, just feeling lost in a land she did not understand. Feeling the weight of the offences of her kin and the desire to make good on them.
He had not made it easier for her. His marriage to Arra was easy due to history, and he did not know how to court such a complicated woman. Much less dream of a future where he subjects his wife to the fate of his last.
"I am needed at the wall." He spoke softly, rising to help her move discarded items around his son's room.
"When?" Her voice was so soft and sweet.
"I leave tomorrow at first light. I will be gone for some time, let's hope less than a month."
"You will write?" She asked, looking up at his brooding form, hardened by the years. He smiled, placing a tender kiss upon her brow. A silent seal that he will.
She scorned herself for being so petulant leading up to her husband's departure. Now that he was gone, her days were awfully lonely. She'd wish upon another spat if it meant the days did not drag on. She oversaw her duties twice over some days. She aimlessly wandered the halls twofold. Overseeing the rations more often than change could occur. She thought to sleep in her husband's chambers, but did not think he would much like the intrusion.
She saw to Rickon more, not that the boy was bothered by the attention. She enjoyed spending the extra time with him, allowing him to observe more of the world. She thought of how lonely the boy, too, must be without a sibling and contemplated whether she would ever be the one to give him one. It was sweet as it was just that, a thought. It was customary to produce an heir and a spare, but it was not the law. She was not sure Cregan even desired another child following what happened to Arra.
"Come on." She placed the boy onto the soft pelts of his bed. The boy was tired from running about the halls of their home and needed rest before the evening came.
"My lady?" She turned, her handmaid waiting at the threshold of Rickon's chambers.
"What is it?" She asked her softly, closing the door behind them.
"The seamstress has arrived."
She turned to her handmaiden, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to recall the need for the seamstress's presence. "I did not call upon the seamstress."
"His lordship did, my lady." Her handmaiden informed her, leading her to her chambers. "The seamstress has asked us to check the fit."
Dresses adorned the expanse of her bed. Most proudly sporting the colours of House Stark, and some honouring the colours of House Lannister. They were finely crafted, an apparent difference from the usual attire of a Northern Lady. Touched with the artistry of the South but made for the North.
She damned him, for it was a sweet gesture she could not ignore. How considerate his order had been. How well he had known her taste to orchestrate such fine attire. It agitated her for reasons she did not understand, but that agitation was promptly dulled by the sweetness of his consideration.
She sighed, ensuring her chamber door closed before she lowered her dress with the help of the handmaiden. She chose the most Stark dress of them all. Blue with hints of grey and white accents. It was warm. "It is a good fit. Give my thanks to the seamstress." She uttered as the handmaiden left her to her chambers.
She stayed to evaluate each dress. She must have worked for some time to present such artistry. She tried to assess how long such work would take. When was it that her husband had made such a thoughtful gesture? Why did it make her heart sing?
She smiled to herself, feeling warmth bloom through her. Surely not from the furs. She felt lighter despite the wool's weight. She wandered about her chamber, attending to her lesser duties, for she was loath to part from the sweet moment. Parchment lay strewn upon her desk, whilst she rummaged through them. Hoping to spot a raven’s message sent by his hand.
His prediction was fruitful. It took less than a month before signs of his arrival alerted everyone to their return. She ensured the house welcomed this return. His departure surely would not be the longest time the two would be without the other. She dreaded the thought of going longer than a month. That there could come a time years would pass before he could be at her side. Though little they were parted, she could not help but wish her husband to feel welcomed. To have missed her as she missed him.
The sun began its descent before the men found themselves home. She hurried to settle Rickon, wishing to find her husband. She heard his ascent to their chambers, the tread of his feet upon the stair of the keep. In haste, she descended to meet him, careful that she did not tread upon her new attire. She languidly approached her husband, his eyes following the silhouette of the dress.
"You are a most welcome sight, wife." His voice was gruff. Perhaps laced with tiredness, perhaps truly welcomed by the sight of his wife dressed so Northernly. His hand trailed the length of her arm, feeling the warmth of the fabric.
She leaned into the touch without thought. "Truthfully?" She smiled, her voice carrying an edge of tease. "The wall had no welcome sights?"
"None as pleasant as you." He managed to huff out a small, amused laugh. There was no lie. The men at the wall were the least welcoming sight in the entirety of the realm. None harbours the softness of his wife. "How are you, wife?"
She could not deny the incessant urge to tease him. She rolled her eyes, but her voice held reluctant fondness, "Warm"
He smiled knowingly, like a man who had just won a war. He did not miss the sign of gratitude her form held now that she was lined in the fur. "Are the dresses to your taste?"
Her form was softened by the gesture, smoothing the soft fabric of her sleeves. "It is you who has to leer upon me, my husband, are they to your taste?"
He leered upon her form, wrapped in the colours of his house. Never had she appeared as much as Lady Stark as now. He appreciated the sight, especially after spending so much time with the gruffness of the men at the wall. "It could be fitted tighter."
She scoffed at his words, not expecting the undercurrent of lewdness to his tone. She could not contain the bashful smile that glossed over her features. Her stomach was growing oddly warmer. She pressed her hand to her bodice as if to contain it. "You will have to make use of your imagination until you wish it off, husband."
He slowed his strides, halting at the height of the staircase. He turned slowly with withheld desire. "Do you wish them off?" His voice held the same gruffness from before, though now she doubted it was from weariness. "Tonight, my love?"
The nickname sent sparks from her head to the tips of her toes. The warmth spread lower to the pit of her stomach. She nodded almost quickly, ashamed of how evident her need was. "They are too warm." She jested, her eyes hesitant but undoubtedly eager.
His eyes sparked, matching the eagerness of her own. His hand found its way to the small of her back, leading her to his chambers. She cursed the wools and furs once more, more intensely than ever. How dare they separate her skin from the warmth of his hand?
"How I have left desire to fester far too long, wife." He languidly pulled her into the warmth of his chambers. The hearth outlined them in a soft glow.
Her smile widened, the fire lighting the glow of her face. "You have been most cruel, husband."
The fire spluttered as the pit of the flame threatened to go out. She groaned as her husband left her side to tend to the fire. Her body was heavy as he wrung out every inch of tension and desire from her. Their coupling had lasted what she could only assume was hours.
"Husband," she tangled herself further in the sheets. "Come back to bed."
He could not stifle the laugh that bloomed at his chest, "I will return in a moment, my love."
"No. Now." The petulant answer only made him smile more. She was sweetened, tangled in the sheets and under the pelts. Her golden-spun hair wrapped around the pillows.
"We have our entire life, wife."
"But this is our first night," she lamented, pulling the furs up. There was no warmth once his Northern body left. "Let us linger in the sweetness."
He could not help the blossom of warmth beneath his breastbone. He so desperately wished to return to the warmth of his wife. He carelessly prodded at the fire, instigating it once more, before tossing the logs in. He swaddled the pelts to cover her once more, his strong form holding her from behind. He placed a gentle kiss on her brow before placing a sweeter one on the crevice of her neck.
"Forgive me, wife."
"Whatever for?" She did not turn, but rather, playing with his hand, snaked around her waist.
"You were not wrong. I did not wish for a wife."
She did not turn; she could not face such admission. But she did not feel the pit of resentment anymore. She knew this but hearing it did not feel as good as she had hoped.
He took her silence as an opportunity to continue, "Losing Arra was a painful affair. I did not wish to take a wife on and let her suffer a similar fate." He played with her hand in return, "Your father broke his oath, and I did not trust him. I thought my contempt could keep me away." He sighed, and she could practically feel him contemning himself. "It was selfish. Utterly selfish to subject you to that sort of arrangement."
She did not think it selfish, but rather an ill-placed worry that he did not know how to address. She truthfully felt no better. Not when her own stubbornness had kept good from one another for so long. His honour often kept him tied to things he wished not to do. Her pride tied her to things she could not do.
"Then I am too sorry, Cregan." She turned to face him, "For I made no attempt to ease the strain, if not worsen it."
"I expected no different from a Lannister." His words held no animosity.
"I expected more from me." She admitted reluctantly.
"You are plagued by your pride."
"And you, your honour."
He huffed out feigned annoyance. She smiled, wishing to further tease, but he did not allow her to do so. "You are infuriating at times." He teased, shaking his head, "But you will make for a wonderful wife." He spoke with affection.
She playfully scrunched her nose in feigned displeasure, "You will have to do," she jested, anticipating his roused reaction.
His eyes darkened with the jest. She smiled devilishly, relishing how easy it still was to muster a rise out of her husband. He leaned over her, pulling her body beneath his. Her eyes widened with anticipation, feeling the warmth spread once more. "Perhaps I have not convinced you of the blessings of a Northern man."
"We must have another." She urged as her husband sat behind her, sharing the warmth of the hearth.
At her chest cradled the sweetest bundle she had ever known. A Stark through and through. His eyes were as grey as his father's, and his hair was no different. She had complained on many occasions that the boy held no semblance of the features of her own house, but everyone knew her whines to be disingenuous. Pride coursed through her as the boy took after his father. The most beautiful babe the realm had ever set eyes upon.
Cregan laughed, careful not to startle the sleeping babe at your chest. "He has yet to detach from your chest. Still far from sleeping through the night."
She made a noise of complaint at his sound reasoning, "I wish for another and much more."
"Give your body some time." He ran his hand along the expanse of her spine, hand cradling his son's head, "The boys do need a sister, but not until you take your rest, my love."
The babe came quite some time later. Four moons after their first coupling, they were blessed by the Maester with the news. He thought her agitation would peak with her swelling abdomen, as he knew some women suffered through. He did not expect the sweetness that would come with her. She flourished with the babe. The happiest he had seen her since she set foot in Winterfell. How doting he had been, how vigilant his eyes. Her joy did temper the worry he bore concerning birth.
"Oh, how I love him." She claimed peppering a plethora of kisses upon her babe.
"Oh, how I love you," Cregan whispered, pressing a gentle kiss upon her temple.
In the heart of Winterfell, she finally felt the North’s silence soften into belonging. The fire sputtered, but in his arms she found a warmth that no hearth could match.
A/N: I have yet to publish a fanfic, so I hope you all enjoy it. It have not had it proofread so sorry for any mistakes. I am not quite in love with it, much less the ending, but anyway.
I do not know who drew the knight in the divider. If it is your work, please let me know so I can give you credit.
Romance - Cregan Stark X Reader Baratheon
Rating - 17+ (Nudity)
Reading Time - 11 min 20 sec (1473)
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON HYPE WEEK
Politics was never Cregan’s grandeur; he was a man of action, of sword and shield. He knew politics had its place, of course, but he never once imagined himself excelling at such things. He stepped in when needed after the chaos of the end of the dance. So many were displaced, many left to rule high places were young or inexperienced, and those around them all had agendas of their own. So he stepped in and brought the realm into order, a time forever known as the hour of the wolf.
It took Cregan only six days to sort out a kingdom of chaos, and frankly, he could have done it quicker if not for many lords squabbling.
One of the political headaches was that lord Baratheon refused to bend the knee to their new king, Cregan had wanted to simply march his winter wolves across the godswood and siege Storms End until lord Baratheon had no choice in the matter, but instead a peaceful route was chosen. Since Lord Barathen declared he would bend the knee if his daughter was given a marriage, of course, no doubt intending her to be wed to one of the few remaining Targaryens, but since he didn’t specify what sort of marriage, Cregan agreed he would wed the girl.
Lord Baratheon wasn’t thrilled but conceded, agreeing that Lord Stark would wed his daughter, even if he deliberately sent the youngest and least attractive of his daughters by southern standards.
But that was of no matter to Cregan, since by northern standards, she was rather beautiful. And she was merely a tool for politics and to give him more children, since he’d already married for love before and lost his dear Arra.
The poor girl seemed… rather shocked with her new, tall, broad, northern lord husband, but didn’t argue. In fact, she hadn’t said a word from the gates of Kings Landing to the great hall of Winterfell unless directly spoken to, and even then, she didn’t always answer. But after so long a war and lordly debates, Cregan was praising the gods for the quiet.
Their wedding would be in the northern style, under the weirwood in the Winterfell Godswood. And their consummation was as silent and awkward as any other political wedding night.
But in the months following their marriage, Y/n didn’t seem to change much. She didn’t warm to Winterfell, its people, or Cregan. Remaining alone in her chambers from dusk till dawn, maids say she sits huddled by the fire reading until sleep claims her. Cregan had tried to show her he meant her no harm, tried to comfort her with gifts of fur-lined gowns, books and blankets, but none had garnered much reaction beyond whispered thanks. He had tried to engage with her at the meal tables and, after performing their duty, tried to speak of the books she read, but she never answered much.
Cregan grew restless, unsure how much longer he could bear his bride's silence. He went down to the hot spring baths deep in the stone below the castle, to try and relax away the stress of his day, only to find the springs weren’t empty.
Lady Y/n Baratheon was already inside. She had chosen the furthest and deepest of the springs, often known for being the hottest of the four. She had braided and pinned up her hair into a milkmaid braid around her head. Her body was bare, with only her thin butter-yellow robe in a pool beside the hot spring. She hummed softly to herself as she washed over her bare skin.
“Good Evening, my lady,” Cregan spoke up,
She jumped and let out a small yelp, her hands quickly covering herself,
“It’s alright… nothing I have not seen before,” he chuckled,
“I- Yes, Lord Stark.” She nodded, “I will go-” she began reaching for her gown,
“No, no. Stay,” he told her, “No need to cut your bath short because of me.”
“I do not mind,”
“Please, stay, Y/n.”
“Yes, Lord Stark.”
“You know you needn't call me that. You are my bride, no doubt soon mother to my child. You can forgo the formalities.” He chuckled as he stepped over and stood at the edge of the spring, “May I?”
“M-may you what?”
“Join you?”
She blushed and stuttered but silently nodded,
“Thank you, my wife.” He smiled, his hand coming to his belt and quickly undoing it, he kicked off his britches and his boots, utterly shameless as he removed his tunic and furs, standing completely naked before her, cock half hard and standing tall towards her.
But she wouldn’t look, her arms still tight around her chest to conceal her breasts, her eyes on the walls and the water, her body trembling in the steaming water as she swam into the corner as far from him as she could.
Slowly, Cregan stepped down into the hot spring’s water, hissing slightly as the water warmed his bones from the chill of the snowy castle. He sank down into the water until it was left brushing against his pecks, his strong arms leaned back against the stone. His eyes ran over her, and he smiled smugly, “You can look.”
“I am aware, my lord-”
“Cregan. It is my name. You should use it, as I use your own, Y/n.”
“Forgive me… Cregan.”
He scoffed, “Are you frightened of me?”
“... yes,” she admitted, finally meeting his eyes,
“That may be the first time in our marriage you haven’t lied to me,” he smiled, “why do I frighten you? My wife? Have I been cruel to you? Unkind? Uncaring? Have I… forced myself upon you unwillingly?”
“No…”
“Then what frightens you?”
“You… you are a northener. A Northman.”
“And would you be frightened of me if I were from the Vale?”
“No…but-”
“Or the Riverlands?”
“Well, no-”
“Then why does it matter that I and my kin were born in the north?”
“... Because I do not know the north.” She answered, pulling her knees to her chest, “Storm’s End has always been my home; seldom have I travelled beyond its silver walls. The Capital was intimidating enough. But to pack all I have to my name and travel among strangers, men fresh from war who look at me with sparks of unmentionable thoughts. Past the capital, following the Kingsroad almost as far as it goes. Into a land of snow, of houses I don’t know, sigils I have never seen, customs and gods that I am a stranger to. Of course I am frightened, Cregan,” She explained, “and you… You are a handsome man, a hero of war, a good leader of your people. But you are a stranger to me, you bow before gods that don’t have names, carry a blade of a world long destroyed, and expect me to merely fall into place at your side.”
He sighed, “I suppose I have not been the most accommodating to you, my lady,” he admitted, “I was too bold with you… Forgive me, perhaps I should have been giving you more space or… time to grow accustomed to the north… and to me. I suppose all our ways must seem strange to you.”
“It’s alright, not your fault… You had no want for this.”
“And yet I agreed to it. And in truth… I was excited to be married again. You are a very beautiful woman, Y/n.”
“My father always said I was as pretty as his best mare.”
He scoffed, “You are a doe… skittish but mesmerisingly beautiful. I feel honoured to see you even for a moment.”
“You mean that?”
“I do. My sweet Doe.”
She giggled and softly blushed, “You are… strong, protective, confident, I feel… intimidated but shielded. You are a wolf, I should expect nothing less, and I am glad you see me as worth such effort.”
He smiled, “Truly?”
“Truly… my strong wolf.”
“Strong wolf? Now that name I like.” He smiled, “Is there anything I can do that will make you happier here, with me?”
She slowly nodded, “Would you… Teach me of the old gods? Of northern houses? Of your banner men? And the customs of the north?”
He broke into a very wide smile and swam across the hot spring, sliding his arm around her waist, pulling her softly into his side, “I would be delighted, my sweet doe,” he cooed, kissing her temple, as he lifted her up to sit her bare body on his thigh,
“Thank you, my wolf.” She blushed, holding him tightly,
“But first,” he smirked, moving his hands up and untieing her hair, letting the long locks fall loose around her and down into the water, “There, now I get to see how beautiful you are… and play with your hair, while I teach you the ways of the north. And I promise… when I’m done, you will not be frightened anymore.”
She smiled and nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder to listen,
Rhaella was the youngest daughter of the King, Viserys I Targaryen, and his wife, Alicent Hightower. At the age of twelve, Rhaella was sent to Winterfell for a betrothal to the young Cregan Stark.
CHAPTER ONE: the winter kiss
Rhaella bowed down, before the Northman, looking a little taken aback by how massive he looked. He was as tall as she had thought, but he was too tall. "M-my.." She stuttered. "My young Lord to be.."
He raised a hand to halt her as she began to bow. "My Lady, there is no need for bowing. I am nothing more than a common lord, one who is only concerned about the safety of the realm." He paused for a moment before asking his next question. "Lady Targaryen?" He assumed she was who she was. "Am I correct in assuming that you are a Targaryen?"
"Yes, my Lord." She smiled. "I am that of Princess Rhaella of House Targaryen, third born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. Princess Rhaella Viserra of House Targaryen."
His eyes widened slightly when he heard her full name, before nodding and smiling. "I see, it is an honor to meet a Princess of House Targaryen." He hesitated for a moment before asking the question he so badly wanted to ask. "If I may be so bold, Princess, may I ask you a question?"
"Yes, my Lord." She nodded, as she stepped forth. She only wore a black dress, topped with a thick fur coat that almost buried her face. "Any question would be preferred."
He was silent for a moment, thinking to myself as he looked at the Princess. Finally, he spoke up. "This is a hard question to ask, but…do you control a dragon? Are all Princesses of House Targaryen bonded with dragons?"
She hesitated, before nodding. "Yes.. What can I call you? You are not yet a Lord, as you are certainly not of age.. We have an age difference, you and I. A slim difference of a year and two moons."
He paused for a moment. "I am Cregan Stark." I said simply. We were both too young to truly need titles, so perhaps it was better this way. "You can call me Cregan, if you would like."
He paused for a moment, unsure if he should ask about the dragons. Would a Targaryen Princess be too offended if her answer was too honest? But he felt he had to know. "What is your dragon's name?"
"Silverwing, that of the late Queen Alysanne's mount." She smiled. She placed a hand on Cregan's long brown hair and giggled, as she touched it. "Your hair.. It's.. beautiful, my Lord. I really like it,"
He could feel his face start to turn red as she started to touch his hair. He was not used to having a beautiful Princess of the Targaryen dynasty pay him attention, and the contact of her hand in his hair only made him blush more than he already was. He stuttered for a moment before getting it out. "Y-you think so? Your hair is beautiful as well."
"I really think it is beautiful, Cregan.." She whispered, her voice low. The winds blew, and Rhaella's hair flew to the right, and she giggled. "Gods!" She giggled. "Thank you for the compliment, Cregan." She smiled at the end.
He smiled as she giggled. He had not really had many interactions with girls his age, so this was a big thing for him. He was almost completely flustered as he spoke. "W-well, it is true." He stuttered. "I can't imagine many girls who have better hair or who are more beautiful than yourself, my lady."
She took Cregan's rough hands to her soft ones, and she looked at his hands. "Gods, what is of your hands? They look rough, and.." She noted. "Have you come out of training? M-my brothers usually have hands like these when they come out of training.."
His face turned even more red as she held my hands. She was right, his hands were rough, and his fingers were scarred from a lifetime of swords and shields and bows and lances. He held up his hands and looked at them. "A lifetime of fighting, my lady." He nodded. "I learned to fight as soon as I could walk, as every Lord of the North does. We are born warriors." He squeezed her hands. They were so soft. "Have you been training as well?"
She shook her head. "I am not allowed to train with a sword. Only my brothers can.." She explained. "I do not mind. My septa says that I knit well, especially by the fire."
He smiled and nodded. "Knitting can be very calming, I am sure. It is never too late to learn the sword though. I am sure your father would allow you to be trained in the blade for self defense should the need ever arise." He paused as I looked at Rhaella. "Would you want to learn, my lady? I would be happy to teach you if your father were to allow it, and if you wanted to."
"I have asked my Father, the King." She explained. But she laughed. "Mother had forbidden me from ever touching a blade or a lance. Helaena thinks of it as horrifying, given that she's rather.. fragile."
He shrugged. "Your mother does what she feels is best for you. That is all any parent may hope to do, but to know how to defend yourself might one day be vital. If the dragons were ever to die out, then the Targaryens would need to be able to defend themselves, just as everyone else must."
He smiled and squeezed Rhaella's hand again. "But if you aren't interested in that, then perhaps I could teach you to ride? We Northerners have many wild horses that you can only find in our lands. I bet I could find you a beautiful filly from the stables."
"I have my sworn sword, Cregan." She giggled. "And I have Silverwing, why would I have a need to ride a horse?" Her sworn sword was that of Ser Clatton of House Vypren. "Is there a silver filly, though? I might want to look at that.."
He grinned as she mentioned her sworn sword and her dragon. She was right. What would she need a horse for when she had the most dangerous beast in the realm? "I suppose you are right." He nodded. "Would you like to see some horses, though? I have plenty of fine breeds in my stable, and I would love to take you on a ride through the woods around Winterfell. I imagine you have seen nothing as grand and beautiful as the Godswoods, have you?"
"I have not seen the Godswoods yet, but.." She took a breath. "I am sure that it is beautiful, as you claim it is." She smiled, and looked at the Stark. He was only three-and-ten, and her.. two-and-ten.
When she smiled, his heart skipped a beat. Was it really possible that I had such an effect on the beautiful Targaryen Princess? She was a Targaryen! And from what he had seen of them, most of them were rather cold and aloof. However, Rhaella seemed to be as warm and gentle as the summer.
He smiled widely, and squeezed her hand once more. "It is beautiful. The old trees there are massive, and the roots of the trees are like the fingers of old gods themselves, sprawling below. It is beautiful and peaceful, and I would be honoured to take you there."
"So, take me there." She giggled, placing a hand on his heart. "Take me to the heart of Winterfell. I want to ride a horse with you, it seems like fun."
He blinked in surprise for a moment, but then he nodded and chuckled. "Of course I will, my lady." He squeezed her hand once more. "And I assure you it is a fun ride. There is no animal as majestic and beautiful as a horse. They are swift and they are strong. You shall enjoy it."
He leaned in a bit, whispering in her ear. "Would you want to ride alone?" he asked. "My guards can keep their distance, and we can have…privacy."
Rhaella's heart fluttered, as he leaned in and whispered. "I would love to ride with you, Cregan." She whispered. "It is only fit for us to ride, since.. we are betrothed, after all."
His heart stopped and then raced as she spoke those words. His voice was shaky and his hands trembled as he leaned in and kissed her on her soft lips. She was right, they were promised to each other, and this would be only the first of many things we would do together as husband and wife. "Perhaps it is only fitting," He whispered. "It is only proper."
She blinked, as he let go of her lips. "My… M-my." She stammered, she has never been kissed before, but to be kissed by her betrothed was worth it. "How old are you? I am only two-and-ten!"
He smiled as he leaned back and looked at her. This was her first kiss? For a Targaryen Princess I would have expected there to have been many before me, but perhaps most boys were too scared of her house and her dragons to try. I couldn't blame them.
He considered her question for a moment. "I am three and ten," he admitted. "I am a year older. I hope it is okay?"
"Yes, of course." She stammered. She was still nervous, as Cregan had just kissed her not too long ago. "I.. I am still in shock—. Cregan.. You have just—. You have just kissed me, my Lord!"
He laughed a bit as she stuttered out her words. This was certainly an odd situation, but he was enjoying it. He squeezed her hand again and smiled. "This was your first kiss? I am glad that I could be the one to give it." He leaned in once more and kissed her again, much to his delight. "Does this one shock you as much, my lady? Or is it something you are starting to enjoy?"
Rhaella gasped, as he kissed her once more. "My L—Lord.." She gasped, as she touched her lips. "You just kissed me!" She stammered. She was getting to enjoy the kisses, but that was unexpected.
He smiled, and squeezed her hand. "Indeed I did, Rhaella. And you enjoyed it, didn't you? I am starting to enjoy giving them, as well." He leaned down to her again, and whispered in her ear. "Do you want me to kiss you again?"
She began to stutter, and looked at him. "My.. My L–Lord.." She stuttered. She was nervous, and began to fidget the coat that she had on. "You.." He laughed as she stuttered. It was obvious that she was nervous, but the laughter was not in response to that. A beautiful Targaryen Princess stammering? It was such a foreign and yet so adorable sight that he could not help but laugh.
"What is it?" He asked her with a smile. "Are you too nervous?" he squeezed her hand, hoping to calm her down. "It is okay if so. You do not have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, my lady. And yet…" He leaned in once more, whispering in her ear. "May I kiss you one more time?"
She bit her lip, and looked away from Cregan for a moment. She needed to breathe, and she needed it. She thought of it, for a moment. If she were to kiss him, it would seal the marriage alliance. After a moment, she walked forward and kissed him. Both her cold and soft hands on his face.
He was not expecting her to be the one to initiate the kiss this time, and he could feel myself start to blush. Once her lips met his, his confidence returned, and he grabbed her around the waist before pulling her closer to him and kissing her back. He closed my eyes, and let himself get caught up in the moment, before eventually pulling away and breathlessly whispering in her ear. "Is this what you wanted? Does this make you happy, my lady?"
"Very–." She giggled and smiled. Cregan's big hands were placed on her waist, and it covered a big portion of her waist. "Now.. Can we ride?"
He smiled and gently stroked her silver hair as she spoke. "If you wish, my lady. We can ride all you like." He laughed as he spoke, and smiled down at her. "We can ride through the Godswood, or ride around on my horse, or you can fly on your dragon." He laughed again. "How would you like to ride?"
"Ride around on your horse, it sounds like a brilliant idea, my Lord." She smiled, as he laughed. He smiled as I squeezed her hand one more time. "Then let us go to the stables, my dear. I promise you that my horse is a fine animal indeed. If you enjoy riding, I think it may even be better than riding a dragon." He laughed, and winked at her as he said it.
With that, he began to lead Rhaella to the stables, where he had an especially fine horse, who would be perfect for a Targaryen Princess.
The Northmen returned to Winterfell with their King, excited to see their families again.
But it wasn’t all in vain, Cregan Stark returned with a promise that was fulfilled on both sides. He would help the Queen in return of a marriage.
Queen Rhaenyra offered a marriage to her daughter, an alliance this strong would ensure their loyalty for eternity.
I sat upon the back of a gorgeous black mare, a silky black mane contrasting with your long, silver locks, matted in her ceremonial braids after a long ride to Winterfell.
Her large, string frame, built for work, strode in line with the Northmen, your newly wedded husband riding beside you on a beautiful white gelding, your powerhouse of a bourse towering over Cregan’s race-battle horse.
He looked relaxed and comfortable on top of his smaller horse, his gaze fixed on the trail infront of him but often breaking off to glance at your face from time to time. 
Winterfell was a large place, not as big as Dragonstone or Kingslanding but still large enough to intimidate anyone crossing or passing it’s threshold.
As they passed through the castle gates, the guards look at you with a look of recognition, not one you were use to back home but a curious recognition as they acknowledged the princess’ beauty.
Your once confident demeanour was replaced with embarrassment as every man, woman and child’s gaze was fixated upon you, your arrival bringing shocked looks to their faces.
Cregan noticed your demeanour change and he chuckled, a smirk forming on his face as he slowed down his horse and leaned towards you slightly, despite the height difference of your horses, you seem to be the same height.
“What happened to that fierce confidence you used to carry around, little princess?”
Your eyes flickered towards the large, bulky man that you now called your husband, your eyes raking up his body and landing on his face before replying,
“It’s just such a change from my home your grace, everyone who knows my name isn’t used to my presence unlike back at home.”
He chuckled softly, taking in your gaze as it roamed over his body, before he reached out a gloved hand to her, offering her a small smirk.
“You don’t have to call me ‘your grace’, darling. We are equals here.”
A shiver rose up your spine as you locked your eyes onto his gloved hand,
“I can’t help it your grace, it’s always been a habit of mine to respect others and use their titles.”
He continued to smirk, taking your hand in his and bringing it in the middle of them, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles. His body leaned in further towards her, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone,
“The I suppose I’ll just have to break you out of that habit, darling.”
A warm blush came to your cheeks, you tore your hand away from his in shyness and looked up infront of you and saw men signalling where to stop and get off our horses. You stopped at a halt and waited for the Northmen to fetch the steps for you to climb down.
But as I was waiting, Cregan had exited his horse and walked around your mare, he offered his left hand for you to grab as his right hand gripped your hip, helping you down.
Cregan stood there with a shit eating smirk, his eyes roaming over her body before looking up at your face, his smirk softening into a more gentle expression.
Once you were fully off the horse, he still didn’t remove his hands from your hips, still holding you close to him as he tilted his face to the side and studied your blushing face.
“My, my, what a lovely shade of pink on your cheeks, darling.”
Your eyes widened at his statement, you quickly diverted your eyes and let your silver locks flow over your face, covering your cheeks.
He chuckled again, amusement shining in his eyes as he watched you try to hide your blushing face. His hand gently rubs your hip through the fabric of your dress. He took a step closer to you, his body practically pressing against yours as he reached forward with his other hand and gently pushed the hair out of your face, his fingers tracing your jaw.
“Now, now, darling, why try to hide such a pretty blush? Hmmm?”
Your breathe hitches in your throat as he touches your jaw,
“My Lord, we really should get inside, my cheeks are merely flushed due to the coldness of the outside. It is freezing out here and it’s only going to get colder. We can warm up inside.”
You made up any excuse you could muster to get out of the situation. It’s not like you didn’t like having the King in the North doting on you, he was well mannered but quite forward, not that you necessarily minded, but you can’t handle others eyes on you, especially in intimate moments.
You enjoyed Cregan’s touch, he was a handsome and compelling man. A Stark. He had these eyes that could either make you shake in fear or knock your knees as you melt in his gaze.
He was attractive in every single sense possible. But you had just been wed off to him without a second thought from your mother and step-father, your own brother didn’t even protest.
You couldn’t give into his gaze just because he was your attractive husband.
He raised an eyebrow at your excuse, not fully believing it but he decided not to make a big deal out of it. He withdrew his hand from your jaw and took a step back, giving you some space as he took in your face once more, a hint of disappointment in your eyes.
“Hm, I suppose you’re right, it is rather could out here little dragon.”
He turned on his heel and began leading the way inside the castle, not glancing back to see if you were following.

You followed Cregan inside, his long legs taking fast strides and putting your legs to work to try and keep up with his fast pace. Eventually we had reached the large double doors.
Cregan pushed open the doors and led you inside , the sounds of the castle instantly filling your ears. Servants and guards hurried about, doing their assigned tasks.
Cregan walked with purpose, his steps large and strong as he walked towards the Lord’s chambers.
You looked around the hall briefly before you followed Cregan to a small corridor. Where was he going?
“Uhm.. my Lord? Where are we going? We walked through the hall and feast.”
Cregan didn’t stop walking, his pace still steady as he turned his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder, a smirk gracing his lips,
“Impatient, aren’t you, darling? I’m taking you to your new chambers.”
He turned his head forwards again as we had reached a big door, a servant stood outside the room and told Cregan that the room and a hot bath was prepared for him inside.
Cregan turned to the servant and nodded his head in thanks, the servant scurrying off and left the two of you alone.
He turned his gaze to you, his smirk widening as he looked you up and down.
“This will be your room from now on, darling. You’ll be living with me. Alone.”
You stuttered as your head shot up, my eyes staring into his, a mischievous glint dancing around his eye.
“Are you really sure we should be sharing chambers so soon my Lord? We have known eachother all but 2 years and in those two years we’ve only had a handful of interactions before we were wed, are you sure you’re comfortable with us sharing a room together?”
His smirk turned into a full blown smile, his eyes fixated on your face as he toon you in. Oh, you were feisty, he could tell that much.
“Oh, absolutely, darling. I assure you, I’m more than comfortable with it. Very comfortable, in fact.”
He took a step towards you, his smile never wavering as he continues speaking,
“Besides, we’re already married. I see no reason to delay such matters any longer.”
“If you truly wish, your grace.”
You looked up at him with large doe eyes, your lavender iris’s searching his metallic ones.
“Perhaps we should go inside the room and freshen up my Lord, it’s been a long trip and I feel as if I’m caked in dirt.”
You but your bottom lip out and shuffle on your feet, your arms now hugging yourself.
He chuckles, his gaze softening slightly as he took in your adorable expression. He could see right through your little act, you were using your pout and innocence to your advantage, and he found it both endearing and amusing.
He placed a gentle hand on your lower back, feeling how small you were compared to him.
“You’re not completely wrong, darling. You do have a little bit of dirt on your face.”
He raised his other hand, gently wiping away some of the dirt on your cheek with his thumb.
Your eyes focus on his hand, your breathe hitching in your throat. You move your face from his grip and diverted your gaze. You too a few steps towards the door and reached your hand out to grab onto the handle but paused before your fingers could graze the metal.
You turned your head to Cregan. Silently asking for permission to open the door.
Cregan chuckled again, noticing your hesitation and your silent question. He took a step closer to you, closing the gap between you, now standing directly behind you.
He place his hands on your hips, his breath lightly tickling your ear as he leaned his head down closer to you.
“You don’t need my permission to open the door, darling. This is your room too, remember? You can do whatever you wish.”
“I just want to make you happy my Lord” you replied.
He hummed as he felt your small body pressed up against his, his hands staying on your waist. He enjoyed having you so close, he relished the feeling of your curves in his grip.
He moved closer, his chest now flush against your back as he lowered his head once more, murmuring in your ear,
“And you already do, darling. You make me very, very happy.”
“And how is that my Lord?”
He chuckled, his hot breath still caressing the side of your face, sendings shivers down your spine.
“I have a beautiful, feisty and loyal wife who I will now be spending every night with for the rest of my life. What more could a man ask for?”
“How about we enter our room first my Lord, I still need to bathe.”
“Hm, of course, darling.”
He nodded in agreement and toons step back , allowing you to push open the door. He gestured for you to walk in first and followed close behind, his eyes roaming over your body once more before he shut the doors, locking it behind him.
You looked around the large room. A bed stood stoic in the middle of the room, covered with layers of soft and fluffy furs. There was a large two person table with wooden chairs, on top the table there was a jug and two glasses, and on the other side of the room there was a large tub filled with water and steam radiating off it.
Cregan watched your eyes rake over the room, a smirk on his face as he took in your expression.
He found your your innocent curiosity endearing, and he knew that you had probably never seen a Lords chambers before.
He walked over to one of the wooden chairs and began taking off his gloves, placing them on the table.
“Do you like it darling?”
“Very much so my Lord, the bed looks so inviting, it seems like it can keep me warm during the winters,.. like you my Lord..”
You turn towards the bath as he chuckles behind you. Your body was practically begging you to let it relax in the soothing water.
“Uhm, my Lord? Is there a curtain of the sort to cover the bathing area while I soak?”
Cregan chuckled, watching as you admired the bed and the tub of hot water. His eyes lingered on your form for a moment before he spoke again. He leaned against the table, a smirk slowly forming on his face
“Yes, darling, there is a curtain. But…”
He paused, his smirk widening at the thought of what he was about to request
“I have a request of you, first.”
“What do you request of me your grace?”
He pushed himself off the table, slowly walking up to you, his smirk still in place. He stopped when he was right in front of you, towering over your small frame, your face looking up at him with curiosity. He reached out a hand and gently touched your chin, tilting your face up even more.
“I want you…”
He paused, his smirk turning into a smile as he looked down at you.
“To undress for me. Slowly.”
Your eyes widen at his request, chest enlarging as you take in a deep breath.
“I’m not sure what you mean my lord. You want me to undress for you?..”
You stare into his eyes and part your lips, going to speak but the words don’t leave.
He chuckled again at your surprised expression, finding you innocent act to be quite amusing. He kept your chin tilted up, his fingers still lingering on your skin as he looked down at your face.
“I think you know exactly what I mean, darling.”
He lowered his other hand and placed it on your hip, his fingers gently rubbing your waist through the fabric of your dress.
You lick your lips and contemplate your next move, you end up grabbing his hands and pushing them off you and spinning on your heel. You stalk towards the tub, your back facing Cregan. You stop a few inches infront of the tub of water. Pausing before reaching up to unlace the front of your dress, slowly pushing it off your shoulders and exposing your slender arms.
Cregan watched as you walked towards the tub, his eyes fixated on your back as you began to undo the laces of your dress. He couldn't help but smile as you pulled the dress off your shoulders, revealing more and more of your bare skin to him. He took a few steps closer, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes slowly roamed over your bare shoulders, admiring your slender arms.
“Keep going, darling.”
His voice sent a shiver through your spine.
“Whatever you desire my lord.”
You whispered breathlessly as you pushed the fabric down your torso, exposing your chest to the wall and your back to Cregan.
Cregan's breath hitched in his throat as he watched you slowly unveil your body to him, his eyes roaming over your bare back and your slender torso, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists.
“That's it, darling. Keep going.”
He was so close behind you now, he could reach out and touch your bare skin if he wanted to, and he desperately wanted to. He wanted to run his hands all over her body, feel your soft skin beneath his rough hands.
The slender fingers paused, deciding wether you should expose yourself towards your new husband. It is duty to do anything he pleases. So you decided against your better judgement and pushed the dress down, going over the curve of your ass and down your plush thighs. The dress pooled at your feet as you stepped out of it, your hands gripping the bath before going to step inside.
Cregan stood there in a daze, his eyes slowly raking over your almost fully naked form. Why would we was even more beautiful than you imagined, your body more exquisite than he could ever have imagined. He was at a loss for words, his mind was completely blown by the sight of your bare torso and thighs. He took a step closer, his hands itching to touch you, to feel your soft flesh under his palms.
He snapped out of his daze when you moved to step into the tub. He quickly reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from getting into the water.
Your eyebrows furrow as your head snaps towards his wrist and then go his face,
“My Lord, is something wrong? Did you want to bathe instead?”
He chuckled and shook his head, his eyes drifting back down to your body, taking in your slender frame and your bare thighs. He swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as he continued speaking.
"No, darling. I want you to get in the water, but I have another request."
He took a step closer, his body now pressed up against your back. You placed hip hands on hips, his fingers gently gripping your bare skin.
Your voice comes out warm and soft as you reply to him,
“And what request would that be my Lord?”
He smiled at your response, relishing the feeling of your body pressed up against his. He moved one of his hands down to yor belly, slowly rubbing his fingers over her skin.
“I want you to let me wash you, darling.”
He leaned down and nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke again.
“Every inch of you.”
“Whatever you desire, i will fulfill my lord. And if that’s to wash every, single inch of my body as i bathe, then I will allow it. But you’re looking quite dirt ridden too my lord, perhaps you want to bathe after me.. or with me.”
You do admit, it was brave of you to say this but if you were going to make this man happy, you guess being in his chambers might be the right place to start.
Cregan chuckled and hummed against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He loved the sound of you submitting yourself to him, your words, as bold as they were, made his chest surge with satisfaction.
“Oh, darling, are you suggesting that I undress and take a bath with you?”
He nibbled at your neck, placing gentle kisses along your skin as he spoke again,
“I like that idea, darling. I like it a lot.”
“If you truly like it then you’ll join me my lord”
You step into the water before Cregan can stop you, turning to face him, your breasts exposed to him before you sink into the water and stare at him, waiting for him to join you.
Cregan cursed under his breath as you stepped into the water, you body sinking down and disappearing underneath the water, only your head remaining above. He stared down at you, his eyes raking over her bare neck and your shoulders, his gaze moving lower and lower down to your covered chest.
He swore again, muttering something incoherent as he began pulling his tunic over his head, tossing it on the floor without a care. He quickly began undressing, stripping off each piece of clothing until he was bare chested, his pants still on.
“I thought you wanted to join me my Lord, but you’re still not bare?”
You teased him as you shuffled with anticipation in the water.
He chuckled, his hands moving down to his pants as he slowly began pulling them down, taking his time as he continued looking at you in the tub, the water covering her body up to your collarbones.
“Be patient, darling. I don't like to do things quickly.”
He pushed the pants down and stepped out of them, kicking them to the side and standing there in front of you, completely naked and unabashed. He smirked as he saw your eyes roam over his body.
“I see why the girls fawn over you my Lord, should I consider them my enemies?”
He chuckled and stepped into the water, hissing as the warm water enveloped his body, the steam slowly rising and filling the air.
“Hm, is that so? And what makes you say that, darling?”
He moved closer and grabbed onto your hips, pulling your towards him until your body was flush against his, your back now against his chest.
“Well for one I’ve heard your not shy of training without your shirt on, in fact I’ve heard you prefer it. I’m sure the local girls must be falling at your feet because of your stocky, protective build and your defined features.”
Your hand reaches up from the water to reach behind you and stroke his face.
He hummed in agreement as he felt your hand on his face, your fingers gently tracing along the lines of his jaw. He chuckled at your words, a proud smirk slowly forming on his face.
“I like to keep my body in prime condition, darling. And yes, it does help when I have lovely ladies watching me train, drooling over my body.”
He smirked even more as he spoke, feeling your body pressed up against his. He could feel the way your curves molded perfectly against his chest and abdomen.
“Cregan..”
Using his name was natural even though it was the first time you had used his name in his presence.
Hearing his name come out of your mouth for the second time caused his chest to tighten, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of your sweet voice saying it.
“Hmm, that's better darling. Say my name again.”
He let go of your chin and instead moved his hand to your hair, gently cupping the back of your head and running his fingers through the soft locks.
“There are no other women who I am interested in. There is only you, my wife.”
You look at his lips, seemingly entranced by them.
“Only me?”
You look up at him.
“You are yet to prove this my Lord.”
He smirks, his eyes narrowing as he picks up on the hint of teasing in your tone. He moves his hand down to rest on your lower stomach, pulling you even closer until there was hardly a breath of space between your bodies.
“Is that so?”
He says, his voice low and seductive.
“And what do you expect from me, darling? How do you want me to prove it?”
“You haven’t even bathed your wife yet dear husband, you promised.”
His smirk widens, his eyes darkening with lust and desire as he heard your reminder. He reached over and grabbed the soft cloth from the edge of the tub, and began rubbing it over your skin, the steam from the water making the air feel thick and heavy between you.
“You're right, darling. I promised to wash you, and that's what I plan to do.”
He began running the cloth over your shoulders and back, his touch gentle but firm as he cleaned every inch of your skin.
You leaned your head back against his shoulder and let out a sigh, feeling his hands explore your body.
He continued running the cloth over your skin, his hands moving slowly and deliberately as he cleaned you. His eyes roved over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin as he bathed you.
“You're so beautiful, darling.”
He whispered, his mouth close to your ear as he spoke. His voice was low and husky, filled with a mixture of desire and reverence. He couldn't help but let his hands wander, tracing over your curves and caressing your soft skin.
“I think you’re missing a spot husband.”
He chuckled and playfully nipped at your ear, his hands pausing their slow movements as he hummed against your skin.
“Is that so? Which spot am I missing darling?”
You grabbed his hand and dragged it up your body, up your torso and landing on your chest, letting him fondle your tits as you bite your lip.
He chuckled lowly, his fingers gently caressing your soft flesh as he teased your sensitive nipples.
“Is this the spot you wanted me to wash darling?”
He whispered into your ear, his voice rough and sultry as he spoke. His touch was firm but gentle, his hands slowly moving over your mounds as he washed you.
“Mhmm..”
You moaned out through your lips, your teeth still biting your bottom lip as you whine and whimper.
“You’re very good with your hands Cregan.”
He hummed in agreement, his hands continuing to move over your body, gently massaging your soft flesh as he washed you. He liked the way you were responding to his touch, the way your body was shivering and trembling under his hands as he touched you.
“I'm glad you think so, darling. I enjoy using my hands, especially on you.”
He spoke softly into your ear, his lips skimming over the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulders as he washed you.
You turn your head to face him as you shuffle your hips.
He could feel your hips moving against his as you shifted, and it sent a jolt of heat through his body. He pulled you even closer, his chest pressing against your back as he continued to wash you, his movements growing more deliberate and intimate.
“Darling, you're being a tease.”
He whispered, his voice low and rough as he spoke into your ear. His hands were moving lower now, slowly trailing down your stomach and over your hips.
“You’re contradicting yourself dear husband. Your hands are teasing my body while your words and teasing my mind.”
He chuckled lowly and nipped at your ear again, his hands continuing to roam over your body, exploring every inch of your soft flesh. He could feel your trembling and shivering under his touch, the fire between you growing hotter and hotter.
“Maybe I do it on purpose, darling. I like seeing you squirm and whimper, begging for me to touch you.”
He whispered into your ear, his voice laced with a hint of darkness and dominance.
You squirm on his lap, staring I to his eyes.
“Your words are like honey, my Lord. But does your mouth taste like it I wonder?”
You subconsciously open your legs and push your face a little closer to his.
He grins, his smirk growing wider at your words and the way your body is reacting to him. His eyes dart down to the space between your legs, his gaze lingering on your exposed skin as he slowly moves his hands up your thighs, stopping just short of touching you where you crave it most.
“You want to find out, darling? Is that what you want?”
He looks up and locks eyes with you, his gaze full of heat and desire as he waits for your response.
“I was my mothers most curious child for a reason.”
He chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your bare shoulder, his lips lingering against your soft skin as he spoke.
“You are a curious one, aren't you? Always wanting to explore and learn more.”
He moves his hands further up your thighs, his fingers skimming over your skin and closer to your core. But he stops short, his touch just shy of where you want it most.
“And are you curious to taste my lips, darling? To see if my words taste as sweet as they sound?”
“It’s my most desired question at this moment in time. But maybe you could put that hand to use while your putting your mouth to use?”
You suggested seductively. You wanted him to touch you. To circle your most sensitive part and make you writhe in his grip.
He smirked against your skin and nipped at your shoulder, his lips grazing the spot as he spoke.
“Such impatience, darling. But I suppose I can indulge you.”
He moved his hand up even higher, his fingers brushing against your core, but still not quite touching you. His thumb gently caressed your skin, teasing you, as his lips moved to your neck, slowly trailing kisses along your skin.
“If you are to indulge me dear husband, then you will kiss me and be more confident with your hands, I need your touch husband.”
He chuckled against your skin, his smile growing wider as he teased you some more with his hands.
“Is my little darling getting desperate for my touch? Wanting me to kiss her and touch her the way she wants me to?”
He moved his lips to your ear, his tongue flicking out to tease your lobe as he spoke.
“You need my touch, darling? You crave it, don't you? My mouth and hands all over you, touching you and pleasuring you.”
“If you don’t touch me soon Cregan I will get the Seven to chastise you. Please just touch me husband…”
You whimper out as you ouch your hips into his fingers.
He chuckled and pressed a kiss behind your ear, his fingers finally, finally, finding your core and gently circling the sensitive bud. His breath was hot against your skin, his breathing becoming heavier as he spoke.
“You're so impatient, my little darling. You want my touch so badly, don't you? You want me to touch you and make you feel good, don't you, darling?”
“Fuck.. yes dear.. Cregan… please kiss me…”
You manage to mumble out through your whines and gasps.
He hummed against your skin, his fingers continuing to work over your core, gently rubbing and teasing you as you whimpered and writhed in his lap.
“That's it, darling. Moan for me. Say my name.”
He shifted your body in his lap, pulling you even closer as he nipped at your neck.
You grabbed his face from your neck and lifted it up. You pulled him down and pressed his lips against yours, moaning into his mouth as he continued rubbing his calloused hands over your sensitive bud, overwhelming you.
He moaned against your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth as he kissed you passionately. His fingers continued to work over you, his touch firm and deliberate as he teased and pleasured you. He could feel you trembling and shaking in his arms, your moans and gasps sending a thrill through his body.
“You taste so good, darling. So sweet, just like I imagined.”
He mumbled against your lips, his voice rough and hoarse with desire.
His left hand continued to work on your sensitive area as his right hand caresses your breasts. You bring you right hand down to press his hand into his core and lifting your hips up into his fingers while your left hand is tangled into his thick, dark hair.
He groaned against your lips as he felt you pressing his hand against your core, the gesture driving him wild. His fingers continued to work over you, his touch growing more confident and possessive as you writhed against him. He broke the kiss and moved his mouth to your neck, his lips and tongue trailing over your skin as he spoke.
“That's it, darling. Take what you want. Use my hand, use my body.”
You whine and moan out loudly.
“Husband please.. Cregan..”
Whimpering, you lazily move your hips back and forwards, both on his hand and his crotch, making him squeeze your nipple tight and roll it in his fingers, heightening your pleasure.
“Please Cregan.. make me feel overwhelmed by your touch..”
He moans into your neck, his breath coming out in ragged puffs as he feels you grinding yourself against his hand and hip. Your whimpers and whines are driving him wild, and he can't help but grow more dominant and possessive as he hears your pleas.
“You want me to overwhelm you, darling? You want me to make you beg and squirm and whimper for me? To make you forget your own name as I touch you?”
“Please Cregan… I’m begging you..”
He grins against your skin, his voice dark and possessive as he speaks.
“You're so needy, darling. So desperate for my touch. And you're begging me already?”
He nibbles at your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he continues speaking,
“Do you want me to touch you more, darling? To make you feel good? To make you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that you can't think straight?”
“Yes! Yes Cregan.. please make me fall apart on your fingers.. please..”
He groans against your skin, your words and pleas driving him wild. His fingers continue to work over you, his touch firm and confident as he does his best to overwhelm you.
“You're begging for it so nicely, darling. You want me to make you fall apart on my fingers, don't you? You want me to tease and pleasure you until you can't think of anything but my touch?”
“Mhmm”
You bite your lip as you feel yourself throbbing as he stroked you. You reached to his hands and pushed further down, needing his fingers to focus on your entrance while his thumb strokes your clit.
He chuckled and bit your ear, his voice rough and hot against your skin.
“You're so impatient, darling. So desperate for more.”
“I’m so desperate for your touch Cregan. Give me more. You said for me to use you and that’s what I’m doing.”
You guide his fingers inside you. Resting your head against his chest as you breathe out a moan.
He groans into your ear as you guide his fingers inside, his breath ragged and heavy as he feels your heat around his digits. Your words and your touch are driving him wild, making him even more possessive and dominant as he speaks.
“That's right, darling. Use me. Take what you want from me. Let me make you feel good.”
“Gods Cregan..”
You clench around him from his words, he had this affect on you, he could make you soaked with just a stare.
He grins against your neck, his words coming out in a low, possessive growl as you clench around him.
“You're so wet for me, darling. So needy and desperate for me and my touch.”
He leans down and bites your shoulder, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continues working his fingers inside you.
“You're mine, darling. All mine. Every inch of you.”
“Please Cregan… faster.. I’m so close..”
You grabbed his face and forced his forehead against yours, staring into his eyes as you roll your hips against his hand.
He chuckles, his eyes locking onto yours as you force your foreheads together. You’re so close, he can feel it in the way you’re moving against him, in the way your breath is coming out in short, ragged pants. His fingers move faster inside you, his touch firm and deliberate.
“Cregan.. fuck..”
You moan out, your pussy pulsing as your eyebrows furrow and your mouth forming a large O, you were so so close, you just needed that extra push to reach your peak.
He can feel you pulse around him, your body trembling with the build up of pleasure as you get closer and closer to the edge. He can see the look of ecstasy on your face, your mouth open in that perfect little 'O' as your moan and whimper for him.
“Come for me, darling. Let go and come for me.”
He whispers into your ear, his fingers moving even more quickly as he tries to push you over the edge.
“Fuck.. fuck! My Lord, I’m cumming! Fuck.. Cregan!”
With one last shout of his name your back arches off him as your legs tremble and you basically scream a moan as you come, enjoying the wave of ecstasy wash over you as you clamp your legs shut on his hand and forced his mouth onto yours, containing your moans.
He grins and kisses you passionately, swallowing your moans and screams as you cum. He can feel your body trembling and shaking in his arms, your legs clenched around his hand as you ride out the waves of pleasure. He continues to press his fingers inside you, prolonging your orgasm as he whispers praises into your ear.
“That's my good girl. Let go and let me feel you come apart like that.”
He mumbles into your ear, his voice rough and possessive as he holds you against him.
“I love you so much dear husband. So so much. Cregan, you complete me.”
You manage to breathe out after your orgasm rattles your frame.
He smiles down at you, his expression full of affection and devotion as he holds you against him. Your words fill him with a sense of pride and joy, and he feels a deep sense of love and protectiveness for you.
“I love you too, darling. You're everything to me. My world would be empty without you in it.”
He kisses the top of your head and gently pulls you to his chest, holding you close as he continues to speak.
“You're my everything. My heart, my soul, my very essence.”
———————————————
Tag list: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom
Ok, we've talked about frat!cregan, but what about frat!jacaerys 👀? Ofc he's just as scummy as his bro but I feel like when it comes to girls they're low-key polar opposites. Sure Jace attracts a lot of virgins as you mentioned in a previous frat!cregan post, but I feel like what really gets him going are the mean girls who are also only in it for the sex or alternative girls bc let's be real, bro is a freak. Plus, it's easier to get the freaky girls into threesomes with his best friend.
OH MY GAWWWWWD I love it when y'all MATCH MY FREAK 😝😝😝
I went a liiittle off course and made it sub Jace...
SUB!JACAERYS VELARYON (STRONG) x COLLEGE FRESHMAN!SWITCH!READER
MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: When Cregan decides to fuck your roommates when you're an arms reach away, you decide two can play at that game.
AN: oh my god. I did NOT realise how much fun this would be to write.. but I LOVEEE me some subby men so maybe that’s why 🤔
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI! SUBBY Jace, sub turned dom reader, dom Cregan, Jacaerys x reader smut, Jacaerys x Cregan smut, Cregan x reader (mentioned smut), Cregan x Alysanne (mentioned smut), the use of 'mommy', one time use of 'y/n', choking, nipple play, anal, riding, revenge type thing??
Okay so, Jacaerys mainly attracts all the virgins or just the girls who aren't just all about sex because he looks sweet and generally is. He doesn't have the scummy frat boy aura around him that you can practically see from the Essos unlike someone (Cregan)..
I'm a STRONG believer in subby Jace, I always have been and I ALWAYS will be so yk that boy gets a bit too loud when he FINALLY scores a freak in the sheets.
Jacaerys likes taking care of the pillow princess virgins, don't get me wrong, but sometimes, he just needs a freaky mommy to top him.
Also, I feel like he only discovered his likeness for being topped after having sex with Cregan for the first time. Sure, before that they had jerked each other off and Cregan even managed to rope Jacaerys to use his mouth once or twice, but those were desperate times.
And oh boy, did a desperate time come.
They were at a party at a sorority, which one you ask? Who fucking knows. They were so excited to go along and get some much needed pussy but one thing they forgot to factor in? Girl groups.
These sorority girls knew everything about everyone. So if Cregan even so much as looked at one of the girls, he friends would drag her off whispering and murmuring about the type of guy he is.
His last straw was being basically alone, absolutely shit faced and seeing Jace talking to the hottest chicks he had seen all night.
Somehow, he had convinced them to come upstairs with him and, in true scummy Cregan fashion, he followed to see if he could get in with some of the action.
He didn't. Well, he did.. just not the way he expected..
Never in Cregan or Jacaerys' life did they think that fucking another dude would feel so good.
Cregan treat Jacaerys like any other fuck, he treated him the same way he fucked those kinky girls and Jacaerys fucking loved it. Every minute of it. Mewls getting swallowed by the pillow his head was resting on as his best friend since Freshman year drilled into him.
You never thought in your eighteen years of life that fucking a dude would leave you with so much shame.
Yeah, Cregan was hot, like stupidly hot. But he was still Cregan Stark. He was still the fuck boy of Dragonstone. He was still just going to fuck you then leave.
He was still going to fuck your roommate while you're 'sleeping' just a few metres away. Stupid college dorm rooms and having their stupid rooms be cramped and their stupid beds just an arm stretch apart.
Maybe that's why you found yourself at the frat that Cregan belonged at, he was seriously like a leashed pit bull. You don't even know why you came. Your feet just took you here and you didn't have any energy to complain since Cregan and Alysanne had kept you up all night fucking long.
'Wow y/n. You've had sex twice and now you have confidence? Great.' You thought to yourself, moving up the steps and to the door. 'Whoever opens this door is who I'm going to do it with. Simple. Easy.'
One simple knock sufficed and then door swung open. Jacaerys Strong. The pretty boy of Dragonstone.
"Ughh.. what?.." He groaned, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand. You could barely speak as he stood before you, clad only in his boxers..
Jacaerys was a slim guy, but lean and toned. Almost like a sleeper build, he was definitely deserving of the sweet guy title, he looked as he'd buy you a coffee while stumbling over his own words, trying to find an excuse of why he knew your coffee order off by heart, not the guy that takes the virginities of Freshmen as a hobby.
Messy curls framed his perfectly shaped face as he finally moved his hand away from his eye to have a proper look at you, eyebrows furrowing, "Wait.. you're- uh.. fuck, forgot your name. But you fucked Cregan, right?"
Your cheeks practically light on fire at that, you didn't realise he actually talked about you. I mean, he talks about every conquest but you wouldn't be able to remember a certain one unless Cregan brought it up more than once.
A slow nod was the only thing that you could do right now, if you even tried to talk it would probably just be incoherent rambling. "Oh, uh, he isn't right now-" , "I know. He's.. he's with my roommate.." A nervous chuckle escapes you as Jacaerys winces ever so slightly.
He may be a womaniser but at least he acknowledges their feelings.
"Shit- sorry.." That's all he could say as the air started to get more thick, dense with the awkward tension. After a few seconds that practically felt like hours, Jacaerys spoke up, "You can come inside, if you want.. its could out here, wouldn't want somethin' so pretty to sit here all alone in the cold."
Ah yes, the age old tactic of luring your best friends conquest inside.
You know you shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. But you do. You nod and make your way inside as he moves to the left slightly to give you room before closing the door.
Maybe it was his kindness that led you into his bed, maybe it was the small whimper that left his lips when he stretched his left shoulder that he had dislocated a few nights ago when playing against a rival schools team, or maybe it was the fact that you just needed to finally have an orgasm.
Whatever the reason, you ended up in Jacaerys Strong's room, on top, with his hands gripping your hips as he teaches you how to ride.
"Fuck.. yeah, just like that.." He groans, but it's just a performance. The slow, tantalising pace he's set is doing nothing for him. But he's considerate enough to know this is only your third time, he wants to make sure you're okay.
It feels good, it does. Jacaerys is a bit longer than Cregan but skinnier, reaching a bit farther than his best friend, but that's not enough for you.
It really doesn't take long before your desperation finally consumes your entire being. You needed him properly. You needed him in the most feral way possible. But most importantly, you really needed to just fucking come.
Moans swirl around his room, high pitched ones that surprisingly aren't female, "Yes! Right there! Holy fuck!" Jacaerys cries out, his eyes clenched shut while his head tips back, pressing hard against the mattress.
Soft mewls escaped you but were drowned out by every sound that man made. He's three years older than you and he's the one that's begging you to fuck him harder. Who would've guessed.
Crescent moons are indented into his skin which slowly turns into skin peeled scratch marks as you try to hold onto him in some way shape or form as you suck him in time and again.
The squelching of your cunt probably the nastiest part. So wet, so full, he even had the decency to thumb your clit, even when he was in this state. God how great of a fuck Cregan would be if he treated you like this.
He was like a painting, something right out of a museum, "Shit! 'M gonna come! 'M gonna come!" These three words are repeated like prayer on Jacaerys' tongue.
"Please! Fuck!- Mommy! Can I?!" He pleads out, asking for permission over and over again. But what really stunned you was what he called you in the heat of the moment. "What?" Your hips had slowed to a halt, much to Jace's dismay who had let out a loud whine, his hands trying to bounce you once more.
It was as if something had awoken inside of you, a beast you'd never knew existed as it had laid dormant for years. Until now. "What did you say?" You repeat yourself a few more times before Jacaerys manages to gather the vowel and consonants to repeat himself.
"Mommy…"
His large hands were all over you, one remaining at your hip to give your pearl some much needed attention, the other had a mind of its own.
It travelled from your hip to your thigh, then your waist, back, ass, tummy, etc until he finally found where his hand belonged, cupping your bouncing tit.
You, on the other hand, had leaned into your new found roll. You talked him through it as you bounced leisurely. You played with his perky nipples and forced him to suck your fingers, he loved everything you gave him.
But there was one thing that he loved most of all, choking. He had found out how much he liked that during of of his 'sessions' with Cregan.
Lying down in the backseat of his car, face to face with Cregan who fucked himself into his tiny hole, legs draped over his hips as he sat on his knees.
Gripping onto the seats was getting too old and he was nearly about to rip off the headrests if he didn't let go soon. So he moved one hand down to tug Jacaerys' pathetic cock that had been bouncing up and down with every thrust.
That had him mewling but the other hand that gripped his throat? That was the winner.
He practically spilled everywhere the moment that Cregan's hand tightened around his throat and it was no different with you.
A mixture of whimpers and moans left the boys lips as his balls tightened, spilling every ounce of himself inside of you the moment your delicate fingertips met his throat.
You had been teetering on the edge by this point and Jacaerys' release had triggered yours like a catalyst.
Your body doubled over as you both shook and trembled in the aftershocks of your very intense orgasms.
SUMMARY: Cregan's nearly fifty, married with many, many kids, but when his best friends daughter comes strolling through, he just can't help himself..
AN: I haven't wrote properly in over a few months so I'm so sorry if it's bad 😭 I've been going THROUGH IT irl so 🥲💔
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI! smutty smut smut, doggy, scratches mentioned once, a bit chubbier reader (love handles), involuntary creampie, deflowering, age gap (Cregan is nearly fifty (probs like 48/49) and reader can be whatever age you want but she's young and has a few older siblings so if that helps whatever age you want to make her). Uhh idk what else to add..
OKAY SO.
Cregan hadn't always been a pervy old man. he was normal, respectful, honourable, al things his best friend used to describe him as he shook hands with some random southern Lord and kissed the hand of their Lady's.
but everything changed the night he saw you in that dress, that fucking dress.
it was wrong in every sense of the word. wrong, wrong, wrong. but he couldn't help himself.
that damned gown hugged your curves, as if the gods themselves were trying to strip you of your garments to show off your beauty in the most raw way possible. the way nature intended it.
"oh, does she not look beautiful.." Lynara muttered next to him, her hand moving to her heart as a small reminiscent pout graced her face, "you must be so proud Jacaerys.. she is practically your double. it's as if the gods graced you with her themselves.."
his eyes still trail after you while his wife praises the ground you walk on, Jacaerys looking on with a sense of pride. "don't you agree my love?"
those words snap Cregan back to his reality. his head moves towards her before his eyes do, painfully dragging away from your pretty tits which are practically daring him to lick. "pardon?"
Lynara sighs, her hand moving from her chest into her lap, "i said, don't you agree that she has grown into such a poised young woman?" Cregan hesitates, the cogs and wheels in his brain malfunctioning as they process her words, "oh- uhm, yes, indeed… you should be proud Jace."
Jacaerys smiled at him, "thank you Cregan, Lynara, but now i really must go and see my daughter." Jacaerys nods his head at them both as a small goodbye, departing from the married couple and strolling towards his youngest child, engulfing her in a fatherly bear hug.
oh, Cregan knew he was screwed.
Cregan loved his wife, of course he did… maybe.. but at the end of the day, he's just a man… and if a young, pretty thing walks by and practically has her whole body on display, what else is he supposed to do?
it was wrong. just as he had repeated to himself earlier that night. but when his favourite 'niece' looks up at him with those big, 'fuck me' eyes of hers, he just can't help the thoughts that run through his head.
on your knees, taking his cock down your throat until you're choking on it. fucking you while he watches your tummy bulge with every thrust. bending you over your fathers desk while you scream his name- now that one he had to excuse himself before something became a lot more prominent to the other Lords he was 'conversing' with.
before the night was over, Cregan's disgraceful dream became a reality. one moment you're greeting him on the long stone balcony of the Red Keep, the next you're begging your 'uncle Cregan' to fuck you silly.
and what kind of uncle would he be if he didn't make his favourite little niece happy?
"shit." it was a quick quip, under the breath, quiet. His large, calloused hands dwarfed your hips as he grabbed onto your love handles in order to fuck you just the way he wanted to.
it was risky. too risky. there were hundreds of guests at the princesses nameday, your nameday. but what is life without risks?
a soft whine escaped your lips first, then another.. and another and then it quickly morphed into loud moans and begging like a whore. "uncle! yes! yes- uncle Cre-" a loud cry cut you off as he slammed into you harder.
it's obvious, even in the moment, that you'll have large scratches across your tummy and tits as soon as this was over. large scratches that your handmaidens will discover when bathing you tonight and no doubt report to your father.
what will your excuse be? "but, daddy!.. uncle Cregan likes my breasts!"
his hips jackhammer into yours, the unruly patch of hair on his pelvic bone scratches your backside over and over again, something that would surely drive you crazy if you didn't have his monster length shoved up your cunny.
his breath comes out in quick pants, Cregan's body not wanting to compete with his libido but his brain says otherwise. he'd fuck you until his cock stayed permanently soft and even then, he'd make you sit on his lap as those thick fingers of his pumped you full, bullying your clit until your juices coated his callouses.
soft whines clawed its way out of your mouth, scraping the back of your throat as you tried to listen to him, to his harsh words as he ordered you to keep your mouth shut. don't get Cregan wrong, he would fucking love to hear those noises, but he'd rather not get caught deflowering the kings daughter.
his grunts engulfed your brain, his whole entire being fucking you mind, body and soul. Cregan's cheek press against your hair, his grumbles and pants pouring into your ear.
pained growls came from the man, he was almost fifty and fucking his best friends youngest daughter on her nameday. but even if he wanted to leave, he doesn't think he can.. that sweet cunt sucking him back in each time.
"shit.." he grits his teeth as he grips your hips tighter than you even believed he could. his balls kept on slamming onto your lips, the slick connecting the both while his thick cock bullies its way into the tightest cunny he's ever felt.
oh no.. no, no, no.. your hand moves behind your body, clawing at the furs of your 'uncle', trying to push his large body away. "please! uncle! no-" you may have been an untouched flower but you could tell Cregan was close, so close to his release in fact that he had started to wrap his arms around your belly, shoving your hand away and hunching himself over your body.
a few pumps of his hips later and a pained groan came from his beared lips. he was still hunched over you but his strong arms hand managed to pick you up in his moment of bliss, your feet dangling in the air as his thick seed infiltrates your womb.
it was an unusual feeling, the sticky substance filling you up, nice and full. the old wolf of the north breeding the little pup from down south…
soft sobs wrack your limp body as he softly rocks his hips into yours, shushing you softly while pants infiltrate his voice. "you're alright pup… i have you.. you're safe.."
his wife, children, your brothers and sisters, father and mother, they're all inside enjoying the celebrations as the most honourable man of the seven kingdoms indulges in infidelity with the pretty young princess.
