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thesugarsoiree · 7 months

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Of Winter’s Flame | CHAPTER ONE

What if Daemon Targaryen married Cregan Stark’s sister instead of Rhea Royce? What if instead of murdering her, she died in childbirth…giving birth to you.

Y/n Targaryen, a dragon raised by wolves. You grew up knowing only the North as your home, Cregan acting as your mentor and elder brother throughout your life.

Now you have been summoned to join the court of Viserys Targaryen a few years after the grueling incidents on Driftmark with no knowledge of why. A Stark rides South at the behest of a King.

What a familiar story.

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The reader has set physical features such as eye and hair colour. The reader's skin colour is left ambiguous/when described uses the phrase “s/c” aka “skin colour”.

This story contains canon-typical behaviors and scenes! Viewer discretion is advised!

Morgana Stark was said to be the finest beauty of the North, born years before Cregan Stark was even a whisper on her parents lips.

She was brown of hair, with soft features and steel-blue eyes which ensnared all who looked upon them. Morgana was a young girl of ten and two when she was betrothed by Queen Alysanne to Daemon Targaryen, the man being six years her senior when they were wed. They would not be made to consummate the marriage until summers later, but by then Daemon had already grown bored with his Northern bride.

Yes, she was beautiful, a fierce warrior, and well read enough that she took the time to learn the ancient language of his House; yet, that was not enough for the rogue prince. He needed more than the barren wastelands of the North, and so he abandoned her to return to the Crownlands.

Years passed and when he finally remembered his sweet Morgana he forced her to leave the North and join him, moving her Northern charm to the South.

It would not be long before Morgana was with child. After all, the seed of the dragon is strong. Morgana begged and pleaded with her husband to be allowed back to the North for her pregnancy, to be allowed back with her family and her people. Daemon pitied his poor Lady-wife and sent her North, but that would be the last time he would see her alive.

When Morgana arrived in Winterfell she became weak, her first pregnancy taking a toll on her body. Eventually Daemon received the raven that explained she could not be moved back down to Kingslanding due to her weakness, but he tossed it away all the same. Daemon had gotten his fun, he would not need her again for some time.

Morgana would die in her childbed nine months later, leaving behind one wish; that her child be taught the ways of both their people. So, her brown hair and steel-blue eyes were laid to rest, soft features covered in the stones of the Stark crypt.

But she brought Morgana back to life. Y/n Targaryen. She brought back her mother’s soft features and night-brown hair, her sweet smile and beauty-marked skin. The only thing she was unable to recreate was her mothers steel-blue eyes. Y/n had taken to her fathers instead, changing his smoky Indigo to a burning lilac.

Cregan Stark, the young boy he was, thought it was perfectly fine that his little niece was not collected by her father. He did not realize the disrespect of Daemon remarrying so quickly and not bothering to even write a letter acknowledging his only child. In fact, Cregan was thankful that Y/n was going to be staying with them permanently, he was excited to train her and teach her the ways of their house.

“My sweet little Y/n,” Cregan would sing, bouncing her around her nursery, “My sweetest little dragon.”

Y/n Targaryen grew into more of a Stark than anyone could have imagined. Her grandfather, Lord Rickon, did his best to fulfill his late daughter's wishes. He had brought in Maesters from the south to teach Y/n High Valyrian, and they had attempted to teach her the ways of her fathers family but try as they might the slippery Y/n always made her way back to her uncle. Cregan would sneak her into the forests around Winterfell and teach her how to strike prey with a bow, he would steal her from her lessons and read to her instead the stories of their ancestors.

“Tohrren Stark, he was the King who knelt. He did it to protect our people from Aegon the Conqueror.” Cregan whispered as the two crouched by candle-light, both technically meant to be in bed.

“Aegon…” Y/n breathed, caressing the page which depicted the moment Tohrren knelt for the future King. Cregan looked at Y/n, furrowing his brow at the young girl of eight years.

“Yes, he’s your blood as well; your father’s blood.” Cregan was honest with her, wiser in his years of ten and five. He knew she was beginning to pay attention a bit more to her maesters teachings, a child’s innocent curiosity getting the better of her.

“Does my father look like Aegon?” Y/n asked, lilac eyes staring at similar ones etched in ink.

“No, he is leaner than King Aegon was, and with longer hair…” Y/n nodded in understanding, flipping the page to see two detailed portraits of both Tohrren and Aegon.

“I can have his portrait brought up, if you’d like. We can put it next to your mothers in your chambers.” Cregan smiled although he despised the idea of Daemon Targaryen sitting next to his sweet sister on his niece's wall. Y/n’s eyes widened, a large grin spreading across her face.

“Truly?” Y/n gasped, sitting up straight.

“Yes, truly. Us Stark’s keep our promises.” Cregan puffed out his chest, ruffling Y/n’s dark hair. Y/n pushed him away with a giggle, crouching back down to read the book.

“Thank you, uncle.” Y/n hummed, and instead of looking towards the pages of the book Cregan looked at the way the light bounced off of her face; how in the dancing shadows he saw a glimpse of his sister beneath them.

“Tohrren, heel!” Y/n scolded her pup, the giant hound tripping over its large feet as it came to a halt.

“You have him well trained.” Cregan spoke, Y/n clutching her furs closer to her body.

“We have a sacred bond, him and I. Like that of Visenya and Vhagar!” Y/n scratched behind Tohrren’s ear, his tail beating the ground rapidly. In her elder years Y/n took a great interest in the warrior queen, reading binded Valyrian texts that Visenya had written in her youth.

“Come, a letter has arrived for you.” Cregan beckoned, Y/n following behind him at a steady pace, all while Tohrren watched her intently by her side. She had named him for Tohrren the Tall because of the great stature of his breed. When Cregan had inquired why not give him a Valyrian name Y/n had responded, ‘I am saving my favorite name for when I claim my own dragon’.

It was no surprise to anyone that Daemon had not placed an egg in Y/n’s cradle nor concerned himself with anything dragon-related thereafter. She was a Targaryen without a dragon, and in that family, it was a fate worse than death. Cregan had often wondered what it would be like in Winterfell with a dragon around, but dragons need fire to survive. The cold would have killed them, which is why Cregan refused the notion that Y/n was any less Stark than he was. No petty dragon could brave the forces of winter, and luckily for Y/n, she was raised by wolves.

“It is from the King?” Y/n blinked, opening King Viserys’ royal seal. Cregan looked over his niece's shoulder, reading the words as she did.

“He…he just wants a correspondence with me? To talk?” Y/n sputtered, rereading the letter. In all of her sixteen years her Targaryen family rarely visited her, never mind writing to her. She only got the occasional trip on dragon-back from Rhaenyra Targaryen, not even her own father.

“If the King wishes to speak with his niece, who are we to deny him?” Cregan shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging on Y/n’s lips as she knocked shoulders with him.

“The King wants to speak with me. Not about betrothals or silly court gossip, but about my life. He wants to understand me.” Y/n re-folded the letter, looking up at her uncle.

“I will be in my chambers writing back to him if you require me,” Y/n stood on her tip-toes and kissed Cregan’s cheek, his growing beard scratching against her lips, “I love you!” With that she called for Tohrren and scurried off to her rooms, leaving Cregan to do all the worrying.

It troubled him that Viserys was taking an interest in their shared niece. The King had never been interested before, so why now? Cregan hoped for Y/n’s sake that it was the incident at Driftmark which made the King contact her. Perhaps after the disaster of his immediate family Viserys was reaching out to what little he had left, no ill will behind it. No Queen behind it.

All Cregan could do was hope for the best and pray that the Old Gods protected his Y/n.

#x reader #hotd x reader #x fem!reader #game of thrones #house of the dragon #hotd #asoif/got #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen Smut #ofwintersflame

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vermithorn · 1 year

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* DISSOLVE

pairing: cregan stark x targaryen!reader

summary: an unexpected visitor arrives at winterfell, cregan is surprised to say the least.

contains: 18+, fingering, p in v, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, biting(?) marking(?), masturbation, asks about consent all the way becasue thats cregan ok.

author's note: i was horny in class, you cant relate to my struggle as i wrote this. my comeback and its cregan because i dream about this man and i need him carnally... also pls forgive any mistakes yall know my first language its spanish so don't be mean and leave feedback if you liked it !! pls reblog !!! !!!!!!! also totally inspired by mi amor @fairysluna fic about targ!reader x cregan yall pls read it its GOD TIER. ok bye now pls enjoy !

Winterfell was.. nice.

Your dragon, The Bronze Fury, wasn't fond of the snowy wasteland you commanded him to fly on. He grumbled as he landed near the northern capital, clouds of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he let you dismount him carefully, as much as he hated the north, he couldn't be mad at his rider.

You petted Vemithor’s snout, his red eyes intently watching you and allowing it, because after all, you were his little human. “Obey, stay here.” Vermithor roared, complaining in his own way, you just laughed and waved him off as you made your way to the castle.

“Warden Stark, this is a matter of great urgency…”

Cregan stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the request of the Umber patriarch, a much older man who was filled with jealousy because Cregan was the Warden of the North and he wasn't, always mentioning it to the great council that was held once a month in the northern capital.

“My lord,” Cregan sighed, “I do not have time for this right now, you had your time for requesting when we were six hours in the council meeting earlier today.”

Lord Umber was about to speak again, smoke coming out his ears but was interrupted by the door of the Great Hall opening, a servant of the castle stepping in and announcing loudly;

“Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Cregan’s head snapped towards the doors, taking in the sight of you entering the Great Hall.

You were bundled up in heavy clothing to protect against the cold weather, wearing a thick fur-lined cloak over a long (but tight?) black dress with red accents, with the three-headed dragon sigil embroidered on your chest.

“Lord Umber, return to this conversation later,” Lord Umber's grumbles could be heard as he walked out quickly after bowing to you, leaving the two of you alone in the Great Hall.

As you walked towards Cregan, he could feel a blush starting on his cheeks.

“My lady.”

Cregan noticed a glint of amusement in your eyes as you spoke, it was almost a purr.

“Lord Cregan,” You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “I am not your lady, I am your princess.”

Cregan’s face turned redder, looking down for a second as if ashamed. “You are right, my princess. I have never before seen the princess of the realm and I was momentarily taken aback, forgetting your station,” He gulped, “I ask for your forgiveness, your highness.”

You chuckled, delighted. “Do not worry, my lord, we all make mistakes.”

He looked at you in awe, he never had seen a woman as beautiful as you, especially in this land of wolves. He felt like he was being pulled towards you as if he was a moth and you were the flame, taking steps towards you.

“Nice meeting you, Warden Stark.” You could tell he was nervous, hiding his shaky hands behind his back, standing straight.

He nodded, almost a bow, “What’s the Princess of Dragonstone doing in Winterfell if I may ask? It is rare to see a noble of the south in this frozen land, even rarer the Crown’s Princess.”

You chuckled softly, and Cregan couldn't feel more attracted to you now as he continued, “Is this an official visit? or did you just wake up with a desire to see my homeland?”

“A little of both,” Cregan raised an eyebrow at you, “I came on dragon back,”

He looks at you with a mix of awe and fear. Dragons have not been seen in the North for a long time, so the mere mention of one is enough to make him worry slightly. “Did you fly all the way here alone, princess? Or is there an entourage of guards, servants, and courtiers that I need to prepare for? I would not presume to let you see one of the great houses of the North without a proper welcoming, even if you are visiting unannounced.”

This made you giggle, and Cregan’s face kept getting warmer with each second passing. “I am alone, my lord.”

Cregan bowed, trying to hide his warm cheeks and of course, showing respect for your station and your valor for traveling alone in the frozen wastes of the North.

He straightened his back and looked into your lilac eyes, breathing softly trying to not get lost in them, “What would you wish to do here, my princess? I could arrange a meal, or a bath to warm up from the freezing weather? Or maybe you would like to talk?”

“A bath would be nice, my lord.” You gave him a wolfish grin, looking him up and down and making him gulp at the sight.

“I will have one prepared for you immediately.” Cregan walked towards the doors, calling a servant to get your bath ready as soon as possible in the guest chambers near his own, he turned around to talk to you but found you were walking around the room, intently watching the tapestries and paintings.

He watched you do this for a few minutes until a servant came back to inform him the bath was ready in the guest chambers, he came out of his trance watching you.

“My princess, the bath is ready for you,” You turned around grinning mischievously, “Is there anything else that I can do for you now? Anything at all?”

Cregan would learn a few seconds later that his words would turn against him.

“Perhaps you could join me?”

A wave of crimson washed over Cregan’s face, and you could see how your words were making sense in his head. What were you trying on him? Was the offer even real or just teasing on your part? He watched you with his jaw slightly dropped trying to think of a proper answer for you, the temptation was certainly great… to see a princess like that, to see you all bare, he could feel himself getting harder at the thought of your naked body, but… what will others think? You came to Winterfell alone, what could happen if others find out he was in your chambers all alone? The temptation was too great to resist it.

“Is this something you truly want, your highness?” Cregan swallowed, taking another step toward you, “Or am I being an object of teasing?”

You grinned widely, taking a step to meet him halfway putting a hand on his wide chest, “My lord, you know how stunning you are?”

Cregan couldn't spit the words out, too occupied focusing on the hand on his chest.

“I am very thankful for your hospitality, my lord,” His gaze fell into your wolfish grin and intense stare, “So I am extending an invitation of my own if you want it.”

Cregan found himself in your chambers, mad at himself for his weak resolve against the Targaryen temptress.

But all those feelings went away the moment you locked the door after entering the room behind him.

The bathtub in the middle of the room was big enough for two people, that was out of the question and Cregan wondered if the servants did this on purpose. You walked towards the bed near the fireplace, taking your fur cloak off and leaving it carefully on the mattress.

“Is this room to your liking, my princess?” Cregan said, watching you subtly.

“It is,” You nodded, slowly untying your dress, “Could you help me, my lord?” You turned around, watching him over your shoulder with a playful smile. “This dress is hard to take off on my own.”

Of fucking course.

Cregan made his way over you, his rough hands carefully untying the complicated part of your dress on your back. You could feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blade, now exposed to the warm air of the room thanks to the fireplace. “I can never take this off without my lady-in-waiting’s help.” You giggled, still watching him over your shoulder.

Cregan shook his head, amused by the fact you were gonna need help to take this off in any case, thankful it was him this time. He waited for you to move first, removing his hands gently.

He took a step backward, “You may undress as you wish, my princess. It would be rude of me to stare while you are getting in and out of the tub.” You turned around to face him, your dress falling off your shoulders as he spoke, “I will keep my eyes lowered.”

Cregan’s gaze fell to the ground, his hands again behind his back, anxiously playing with his thumb.

“My lord.” You purred, “I don’t mind, you can look if you wish.”

He splutters, his gaze still glued down to the floor, shocked by your words but his traitorous eyes wander back to your figure, he gasps when he sees how your dress is no longer on your shoulders, now hanging low on your waist and your chest bare.

“M-my princess… this is not appropriate…” He exhales shakily, his eyes glued to your chest not able to look away now.

You roll your eyes, chuckling softly, “I don’t mind, my lord, I am not ashamed of my body.”

Cregan’s jaw drops, your words sending shivers to his spine, and his uniform pants getting tighter. You have the confidence of a queen and beauty to match it.

“Then allow me,” He takes a look up and down at your form as you continue to remove your garments.

“Like what you see, pup?”

Your words make Cregan freeze on his spot near the bathtub, his eyes roaming crazily over your body, now fully bare to him. You walk towards him, stepping slowly on the hot water until it’s reaching your thighs.

“Words cannot describe what I’m feeling, your highness.” He exhales shakily, “I am merely a northern wolf awed by a dragon’s beauty and power.”

You chuckle, sitting down on the tub, the water reaching your breasts, “You flatter me, pup.”

He looks at you stunned, you seem unbothered by the scalding hot water as you sit looking at him expectantly. He has no words to describe what’s going on inside his head, the Crown’s Princess is bathing in front of the Warden of the North as if there were no one else in the world, he's only able to stare at you in awe, his eyes shining with a glint of lust.

He stumbles on his next words, “W-what should I do now, your highness?”

“Join me.”

He only can nod and starts to remove his clothes immediately, showing no humility or shame at being naked in front of the princess, your confident self giving him confidence.

He realizes what he's about to do, “You’re not offended by my nakedness?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused, “Why would I be offended? You’re beautiful.”

Men are rarely complimented by their beauty, something Cregan doesn't experience as much, and you can tell this by the way his face lits up and blushes hard, turning away from your amused gaze and feeling slightly bashful.

He takes a deep breath and steps into the bathtub, the water is almost too hot for his liking but he seats behind you without any complaints. He is facing your back and he has to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“Shall I wash you, my princess? Or shall I merely enjoy the view?” The moments those words left his mouth his face was plagued by a crimson blush, not believing that he could mutter that out loud.

He heard you chuckle, turning your head to the side but not all the way so he could appreciate your side profile as you spoke, “Whatever you want,”

He scooted closer to you, keeping all his lower body and his not-that-hard (a lie) cock away from your ass. Still half in disbelief, the princess herself telling him to do whatever he wanted? He was an ambitious man, but started on the base of his wants, not wanting to scare you off. He reach out and ran his hands through your white hair, slowly washing it and once in a while touching your neck.

Your skin felt impossibly soft in his rough palms, and your scent was enough to send him far far away. He felt his heart racing, threatening with escaping his rib cage, he couldn’t believe you were there in front of him, a Targaryen princess, naked and inviting.

As he softly caresses your neck, you throw your head back enjoying the feeling of him touching your skin. His hands softly untangle your wet hair, and it surprises him when you let out a low moan when he accidentally pulled your hair.

“Oh,” Cregan could feel the heat rising to his face, and of course, his cock twitching.

Being this close to you was making him lose all his composure, but he did his best as his hands traveled to your shoulders from your hair, massaging them gently as you nudged back, encouraging him to continue.

“Shall… shall I move further down, my princess?”

He could physically feel your laugh against his hands, sending shivers down his spine.

“Yes.”

His hands moved along your shoulders, past your neck, and down to your upper back softly touching and caressing the path downwards your back. He can hear you sigh quietly, his hands coming back to your shoulder blades and slowly moving to your sides, just below your arms, both of his index fingers just barely brushing your breasts.

He stops, his hands still. “May I, your highness? I would never want to do something without your consent.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him from the corner of your eye. “Go on, pup.”

His hands reach your chest, and he scoots closer, his (now) hard cock a few inches away from your ass. He warily cups your breasts, squeezing them gently as his fingers pinch your nipples, making them pebble.

You let out a whimper, shivering at the touch of his rough and big hands on your tits.

“Does this... please you, your highness? My hands on your perfect skin?” He cannot stop himself now, words spilling out his mouth as they didn’t before, his hands wandering around and playing with your chest.

“Yes, you’re doing such a good job, pup.” He blushes deeply but doesn't stop.

He’s still in disbelief, not entirely believing the situation happening in front of his eyes. The princess of Dragonstone telling him how good he's being for her? It is too much to comprehend, you’re so above him in any situation, but there you are, praising and wanting him to touch you.

“You want me to continue, my princess?”

You nod, “Go further,”

His heart starts to pound harder in his chest, like a war drum, but he continues to do as you say. One hand stays playing with your breast, stroking your nipple, and the other travels downwards through your belly.

“Like this?” He whispers in your ear, and you can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.

You surprise him again by scooting back, your ass against his hardened length, he gasps, the plump of your ass touching his cock making him lose his vision for a second, not expecting it at all.

“Just like that,” Your words send chills down his spine, is he really about to do this with a princess? Is he really worthy of that? He swallows deeply, his mouth now dry, but his mind is made up. He wants you, and if you’re allowing him to do this, he won't complain at all.

“As you wish, my princess. How far would you like me to continue?”

“As far as you wish, pup.”

Your words leave him breathless, but he obliges.

Cregan’s hand on your belly travels further down, carefully to not overstep your boundaries but decided to resume his wandering on your body as his cock presses against your ass. His eyes are glued to the back of your neck, his touch is hesitant at first but your permission makes him feel bold, so he presses his one hand down further and the other squeezes your breast.

“Go on, pup,” You whisper, leaning your head back and resting it on his shoulder as his mouth grazes your neck towards your throat, breathing heavily, “You know what to do.”

He chuckles, but it comes out as a shaky breath. He knows exactly what to do.

His fingers slowly make their way down to your cunt, two digits slowly reaching your clit hovering over it, and moving down to your folds, feeling how you shiver.

You exhale shakily, leaning even more against his body, “Please.”

Cregan’s resolve breaks, blushing as he continues his ministrations, teasing your clit with his palm and fingers grazing your folds, rubbing them.

He’s so immersed in his teasing he doesn't notice when your soft hand grabs his, pushing it down towards your pussy hard. “I don’t like being teased, do your work.”

Your words drive him into a frenzy, immediately obeying and pushing two fingers into your cunt, hearing you moan. His hand on your breast leaves to support what the other one is doing, moving his fingers in a circular motion on your clit as the other fingers you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder harshly, groaning. “Don’t stop, pup.”

Cregan grinds himself against your ass as he thrusts into you, fingers deep into your pussy. Your breath starts to get labored and your shoulders begin to shake, he starts going faster, more vigorously as he hears your little whimpers with his name mixed into your chants.

“You’re doing so good for me, pup,” He grins proudly, his cock twitching at the breathy praise that falls from your lips, grinding harder against your ass.

Cregan makes you reach your peak after he pinches your clit and his long rough fingers thrust into you, shaking slightly as he holds you in place.

He’s still rock hard against your ass, and after a few moments to come back to yourself, you turn around to face him, your tits against his chest as you straddle his lap, not caring at all how the water splashes outside the tub.

Cregan’s cock is a sight, long and with a thickness it makes your mouth water. He watches you as you move around him until you grab his shaft making his dick brush your folds as you accommodate, the tip teasing on your hole.

“I want you, do you want me?”

He thinks that’s the dumbest question he's ever heard in his twenty-one years of life.

“Hell yes, my princess.”

You give him a wolfish grin as you sink into his length mercilessly in one go, your tight hole wrapping his cock in a warm embrace he can only answer by groaning loudly, his hands flying to your hips to help you steady yourself.

“You’re so tight, seven hells… my goddess, you’re so beautiful.” Your mouth parted at the sensation of his cock splitting you in two, combined with his praise, it’s enough encouragement to start riding him, water splashing everywhere.

His voice starts coming out as incoherences, between praises and swearing on how tight you are, and how your cunt was made for him, his mouth latching at your breast biting it and marking the sides when he can no longer say coherent words. You ride him hard and roughly, so it’s not a surprise when he spills inside your pussy and you follow him behind quickly with a second orgasm when he moves his hand down to rub your clit.

He hugs you as you both breathe heavily, trying to compose yourselves.

Your hand reaches his face, cupping his cheek as he looks into your lilac eyes like a puppy.

“You did so well, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

He beams at the praise, hugging you tightly, pressing your body against his with him still inside you, getting softer. “It is my pleasure to please you, my princess.”

vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works

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esther-dot · 5 months

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Jon drives to the Valley to give Sansa a ride home.

Emma AU art by @dcvahkiin and Clueless art by wolvesofspring

Emma Gifset by @dcbicki

General Regency AUs

No Notion of Loving by Halves 2k @darkmagyk

The Stark cousin, Jon, goes home to discuss matters concerning the entail on Winterfell. In which Jon is a really good guy, and I flagrantly disregard how entails actually work.

Manners and Misunderstandings 114k, WIP by @x-winging-it

The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls. Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage. When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.

You Could Draw Me to the Gallows 2k by @azulaahai

After having eloped from home with and subsequently been abandoned by wealthy heir Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa Stark refuses to come home. Having caused a scandal that is sure to prevent her from ever marrying, she is adamant not to bring further shame to the family name by returning to Winterfell. Until, that is, a visitor comes to her - Jon Snow, an old family friend, determined to bring Sansa with him back north. He has a solution to offer her - a proposal with the potential to change both of their lives.

A Perilous Dance Indeed & fiercely, tenderly and eternally 27k by @amymel86

He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it. *** Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.

Waiting for Your Slippered Feet 49k by @wintry-ritu

Lady Sansa Stark has always looked forward to her come-out season in London, the balls, the rides in Hyde Park, evenings at Vauxhall, the romance and wonder of it all. Never had she imagined that it would happen like this, with her parents gone and her younger siblings underfoot. Now, all Sansa wants is for it all to be over quickly so she can get back to Winterfell. She needs a kind, amiable man who will be brave enough to take on his wife's siblings. That should not be so hard to find in London, should it? And while she is most grateful for Jon Targaryen's help, why must her cousin be so distracting?

To Make You Love Me 16k incomplete and orphaned

When Ned Stark dies, he leaves behind his wife, two daughters, and his family’s estate at Winterfell. What follows is a series of unwanted marriage proposals, houseguests who far outstay their welcome, and Arya parading around in a comically large hat and an oil-paint mustache as she declares herself the new ‘Lord of Winterfell,’ in an attempt to dissuade her sister’s suitors. However, when Mr. Jon Snow — their distant cousin and Ned’s appointed heir to the estate — comes to call, an oil-paint mustache is hardly enough to deter him from courting Miss Sansa Stark. And she thinks, perhaps, that a man could marry her for love more than her claim, after all.

Mine for a Season 101k by @vivilove-jonsa

Colonel Jon Targaryen is a single man in possession of a good fortune who claims no interest in finding himself a wife. With his war wounds, he thinks no young lady would want him anyway for anything beyond the allure of his pocketbook. Fortunately and unbeknownst to him, Fate has chosen to find a wife for him and will even deliver her right to his doorstep. Taking on the responsibility of shepherding a young lady about for a Season in London is not at all what Jon had wished to do but he had accepted out of a sense of familial duty. However, once he meets Sansa again after only having met her years ago as a child, he may not consider it a duty so much as a torment.

a lady of winterfell 185k, WIP by @wandering-scavenger

She bit her lip and exhaled shakily, “If you are so sickened by the prospect of marrying me, we should be able to obtain an annulment easily enough with your father’s connections.” “I will do no such thing.” he snapped, refusing to look at her. Sansa had never felt more rejected than she did at that moment. Her past experiences of being humiliated at the hand of Joffrey did not feel as painful as this. Even so, she could not allow him to see the weakness in her, not now. “I will not be left out, Jon.” she said, tilting her chin up to look down at him. He grimaced. They were silent for longer than she cared to count, but each second that he did not speak chipped away at her resolve and her ability to withhold her tears. Jon did not want her, and she could not blame him. Who could ever want her? It should not have distressed her as much as it did. She was never his favourite sister, she who treated him as a stranger since she was old enough to understand what a bastard was. A tear slipped down to her face until she tasted the salt of it on her lips. “If we marry, we will remain so.” corresponding gifset

moth's wings 47k by @cellsshapedlikestars

Sansa was determined to convince her aunt to let Arya debut, which is how she finds herself in her current predicament. “Who is this secret gentleman who has asked for your hand?” Aunt Lysa asks, and Sansa knows from her tone that she does not believe. (She has every right not to believe, for it is not true.) And then Sansa does something very, very foolish. She says a name. “The Duke of Dragonstone!” Or, Sansa fakes an engagement so that Arya can debut and marry the man she loves. The only problem? Her fake fiance just so happens to be in the city when he was not supposed to be.

An Understanding 2k, WIP by @thewolvescalledmehome

At the start of Sansa Stark's third London Season, she decides it will be her last. She will secure a husband by the end of the final ball. Jon Snow is new to the London Season and high society. He never expected to inherit money or property from an unknown uncle. When they meet at a ball, Sansa gets an idea.

you're in my blood like holy wine 72k

Sansa finds it difficult to look at Jon’s face, with its weathered lines and cragginess. It is the face of the North and a face that northerners trust; the face of Sansa’s brothers and her father, who had been loved and respected by their tenants as their forefathers had been when they were kings. How can Sansa feel anything but resentment, looking into that face and knowing that all of her years of hard work will never earn her the respect that that profile engenders within seconds? But she does. It is a small, burning coal of something that must be smothered.

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON

#jonsa #jonsa fic #regency au #pride and prejudice au #emma au #northanger abbey au #mansfield park au #persuasion au #dot fic list #marriage of convenience au #arranged marriage au

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sapphire-writes · 11 months

Text

Sweet Fruit ~ Jace x Snow!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

summary: You and Prince Jacaerys cannot stay away from each other, no matter how much you need to.

rating: 18+ (detailed warnings below the cut)

note: specifically for my love @osferthsbussy😘

warnings: p in v, spanking, choking, size k*nk lowkey, slight humiliation, punishment, fem receiving oral, breeding kink

Since the encounter in your chambers, you waited with bated breath for Prince Jacaerys to arrive at your door later that night. You’d taken a hot bath to prepare, lathering yourself in sweet oils and wrapping yourself in your favorite shift.

You seated yourself in front of the fire, wrapped in furs, and waited.

And waited.

The night grew longer and your candles burned until the wicks were spent, a hole gnawed in your gut at your empty bed.

You try not to appear too disappointed, though you do not see the Prince for several days after this incident. He has gone with Cregan to hunt, and does not return for nearly a week’s time. Even then, he avoids you, until Cregan announced a feast at the week’s end.

There was no avoiding you then. You’d dressed in your best gown for the occasion, a deep maroon, with an exceptionally tight bodice. Your brother, with the dragon prince by his side, greeted you as you entered the hall.

“Surely you’ve heard the news sister,” Cregan says while embracing you.

Your eyes flicker to Jacaerys before you shake your head.

“We shall ride south, in the name of the true Queen of Westeros, Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Cregan tells you, lifting his goblet high.

You smile incredulously, eyes flickering toward the prince, who shall not meet your eyes.

“Congratulations, my prince,” you tell him bitterly, “The North is truly yours.”

Jace mumbles a thank you, nodding his head politely. He is nothing if not a gentleman.

“I suppose you must be thrilled to head back to your betrothed,” Cregan says, clasping a hand on his back, “I understand Lady Baela was not pleased with your plans to wed her after the war, rather than before.”

“No, she was not,” Jace agreed, brown eyes finally meeting yours.

“She may rest easy knowing you shall be wed soon,” Cregan says, smashing his goblet against Jace’s, “For when the wolves ride south, we shall take your mother’s throne back within the fortnight!”

The hall cheers at Cregan’s words but your eyes are locked on Jace’s. What about me, your eyes ask. What about me?

“Congratulations again, my prince,” you tell him, smiling tightly and curtseying.

You turn away from him, moving into the crowd, but you feel his presence close on your heels.

“Y/N-”

“I’m sure Lady Baela is wonderful,” you tell him, “She shall make a lovely bride.”

Jace reaches out, grabbing your arm. You stop, looking back at him, eyes flickering from his hand that clings to you to his face.

“Careful, my prince,” you tell him, tugging yourself free, “Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong impression.”

You continue moving away from him, deciding to spend the rest of the night dancing, frolicking about, and kissing any man and woman you can get your hands on. Greedy, bastard girl, that’s what you are after all isn’t it? Nothing more, nothing less, least of all to the son of the heir to the Iron Throne.

Hours later a knock comes at your door. You pout, having been ready to drink yourself to a state of dreamless sleep, before opening the door. Jace pushes his way instead, closing the door swiftly behind him. You move away from his grabbing hands, unable to keep the disappointment from your face.

“Careful,” you tell him, “Someone could see. Wouldn’t want any word getting back to your lady wife, now would we?”

Jace stands by the door, hands curled into fists by his side, lower lip held firmly between his teeth. You watch him through watery eyes. His hair has grown longer since his time at Winterfell, the curls falling onto his shoulders. Your hands twitch at your sides; you’d like nothing more than to run your fingers through them.

“What are you doing?” he asks, softly.

“I’ve no idea what you-”

“No,” Jace interrupts, his voice calm, “What are you doing?”

You don’t speak. You just watch him, heart beating erratically in your chest.

“You’re leaving Winterfell,” you tell him.

“Yes,” he says, brown eyes meeting yours.

“Leaving me,” you clarify and he doesn’t answer this time.

You scoff, moving to fill a goblet with wine.

“You’ve acted inappropriately,” Jace tells you, “Tarnishing your reputation, your name-”

“Snow?” you ask, “Tis already tarnished. A bastard is born stained. I shall be this way all my life.”

His nose twitches.

“As shall you,” you hiss.

“The words you speak are treasonous,” he tells you.

“Kill me then,” you demand, “You rather enjoyed my treacherous mouth the other night.”

“Y/N-” he begins, but his voice trails off.

“Lie to yourself all you want,” you tell him, stepping closer, “Go to Dragonstone, marry Baela, father a dozen silver babes, and die.”

Your lip trembles, the word die coming out in almost a whine. Jace looks at you, eyes flickering about your face. He brings his hand to your cheek, stroking away a tear that falls. You close your eyes, trying to turn your face away but he holds your cheek firmly.

“Die,” you repeat, and he brings his hand to cup your other cheek, “Die.”

His lips are on yours and he greedily swallows your heated threat, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You kiss him back, grabbing the front of his shirt, and pulling him against you. It’s hungry and needy and aggressive but you don’t care. In here he is yours; within the walls of Winterfell, he belongs to you.

You tumble backward onto the furs of your bed, letting his weight fall on top of you, stealing the breath from your lungs. You move to remove his clothes, nails scratching at him desperately, one hand winding in his curls. Your center aches without him, you need him inside you desperately.

You’re not a maiden, haven’t been for some time. You’d gifted your maidenhead to a sellsword from White Harbor years ago.

Jace grabs your wrists, pinning them over your head, breathing heavily as his eyes meet yours. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, night shift bunched at your middle.

“You’ve not been kind this evening,” he murmurs in a rough voice, “You’ve tormented me yet again.”

“Tis because you are mine to torment,” you hiss, and he brings a hand to rest at your throat.

“When shall you learn?” he asks, applying the slightest pressure, “What must I do to make you behave?”

“Your cock is a good start,” you tease, feeling the mood begin to lighten, the heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

“You’re a mad woman,” he says, connecting your mouths once more in a passionate kiss.

As soon as he kisses you, he moves from on top of you, dragging you across his lap.

“You do require a lesson,” he tells you, moving your small clothes from your bottom half.

Your breath hitches as your small clothes pool around your ankles. Jace brings his hand down, harshly spanking you, the sound echoing like the cracking logs of your fire. He continues spanking you, one brutal slap after the other, his large hands squeezing and rubbing your aching cheeks between each blow.

You can feel yourself dripping on his thigh, the delicious sting only fueling the ache between your thighs. Your whimpers and sharp cries only spur Jace on as he continues to deliver your punishment.

“Tis not even a punishment,” Jace says, clicking his tongue and running a finger along your soaked folds, “Look how wet you are.”

He releases you then and you crawl off him, slumping to the floor. Humiliation tingles through you as you glance up at him. Jace runs his fingers against his leather-clad thigh, gathering the wetness that pooled there.

His eyes flicker to your face.

“Clean me up,” he orders.

You pause for a moment, before reaching for a handkerchief.

“With your mouth,” he instructs.

You blush scarlet, surprised by his lewd command. But you do as you’re told, positioning yourself between his thighs, bringing your mouth to his leather pants. You lick and suckle, tasting your arousal, whimpering as Jace moves some hair from your face. He’s soon satisfied, pulling your face away and kissing you, dragging you back to straddle him.

“Fuck I love the taste of you,” he says, sucking on your lower lip, “I couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink knowing this is what awaited me.”

He flips you onto your back, kneeling between your legs.

“How does one go back to the food of this realm when they’re tasted ambrosia?” he murmurs, moaning as his mouth covers your dripping slit.

A strangled cry rips through your lungs as his tongue curls against your inner walls. He laps his tongue against you desperately, as though he’s been wandering around the sandy dunes of Dorne, with nothing to quench his thirst. Though he enjoys the sounds you make with his tongue buried as deep as it can go inside of you, he prefers the small moans and pants that are elicited when he circles the tip of his tongue around your needy pearl.

He settles there, at the top of your mound, suckling in your pearl in his mouth until you’re crying out, scraping your nails against his scalp hard enough to draw blood.

Jace moves to lay on top of you, his nose brushing against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him against you.

“Please,” you murmur, “Please, please.”

His brown eyes meet yours, lips brushing against your own as you keep whispering into his mouth.

“Your maidenhead-”

“I’m hardly a maiden,” you admit, cheeks rosy with the confession.

Jace looks at you, eyes wide, not with judgement, but with something else.

“I…” he begins, “I have never…” he trails off, blush blooming on his cheeks.

You smile softly, smoothing his curls away from his face.

“You mean to tell me you are a maiden, my prince?” you softly tease, nails trailing down the side of his throat.

“I just have never…” he struggles to find the words, “Yes, I suppose I am.”

A giggle leaves your lips and Jace finds himself chuckling as well before capturing your lips in a heated kiss once more. You bring your hands to his breaches, feeling the hardness of his manhood eagerly pressing against the constraints of his pants. You free his cock with ease, letting it slap against your hand before wrapping your fingers around him.

A shiver rolls through you at his the thickness of him, the arousal pooling between your legs even more so at the thought of him inside of you.

“Will it…” Jace asks, face scrunching in pleasure as you stroke him, “Gods…will it fit?”

“Mhmm,” you assure him, though you are unsure, “The gods made us for each other.”

Jace kisses you as you guide him towards your throbbing center, running the fat tip of his cock along your soaked slit. Jace’s hips buck as the contact, and he begins to ease himself inside of you.

“Seven above,” he gasps, jaw slacked with pleasure, “Oh Seven save me.”

“Fuck,” you hiss at the burning stretch of him.

It is deliciously painful as he bottoms out, breaking you open, nearly splitting you in half.

“Are you…?”

“A moment,” you tell him, through clenched teeth, “Just a moment.”

“Take all the time,” he assures you, placing soft kisses across your face.

You wait, letting him rest within you before you begin to return his kisses, nodding for him to move. Slowly, carefully he lifts his hips, dragging his cock along your tender walls, before rolling them against you. The sounds you begin to make have Jace trembling above you, continuing his thrusts.

“Seven hells,” he grunts, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, “So tight, so warm, fuck.”

You claw desperately at his shoulders, his back, anywhere that brings him closer to you. His cock feels so perfect inside of you, the pain nearly completing gone and replaced by white hot pleasure.

Jace glances down between you, where you both are connected, watching his soaked cock slide in and out of you. He moves a hand to your lower stomach, pressing down. All the pleasure seems to zero in where he presses, as though he can feel with his hand the bulge of his cock through your lower stomach.

“Jace,” you whine, feeling your limbs tingle with the promise of your imminent release.

“Squeezing me so tight,” he moans, “Fuck, I can feel it.”

Your legs tremble around him as your second climax washes over you, constricitng his cock in a vicelike grip.

“You’ve peaked?” Jace asks, noting the way your face scrunches, the way your cunt constricts him, “Seven hells you’re fucking perfect around me.”

He moves your left leg then, hooking it over his shoulder as he continues to plow into you. Each thrust in your quivering cunt sends heat pooling in your belly.

“Taking me so well,” Jace says, eyes trained on his cock dissappearing inside you, “Seven hells, I’m close, what…”

“Stay,” you beg him, “Stay inside me please.”

Jace’s answering kiss is ferocious, his hips desperately slapping against you, his pace increasing.

“I’ll stay,” he tells you, mouth pressed against yours, “I’ll stay with you.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him hungrily. Jace moves his lips across your face, down the crook of your neck.

“Seven hells, I’m going to fill you with my seed,” he moans, “Watch you swell with my children.”

“Please,” you tell him, “I’ll give you many sons.”

“How many?” he questions.

“However many you desire,” you whimper, “Keep me full always with your seed, swollen with your child.”

Jace’s answering moan and stuttering of his hips tells you that’s exactly what he intends, as you feel the warmth of his seed fill your throbbing cunny. As he unsheathes himself from you, you can feel your mingled releases dripping from your center.

The unpleasant empty feeling is short lived as Jace plunges two thick fingers inside of you, curling them against your sweet spot. You gasp as he fingers you towards your third peak, utilziing his thumb to tap at your sensitive pearl.

“You must keep it inside you,” he murmurs, “Your cunny responds so well to me.”

“Fuck, fuck!” you squeak, legs thrashing as your peak washes over you.

Jace keeps his fingers sheathed in your cunt, but moves to lay on top of you. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, uncosciously.

“Does my lady need more?” Jace asks, gently curling his fingers, stroking your most sensitive spot.

A sharp whine leaves your lips and you burrow your face against his chest. He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest.

“No please,” you tell him, “Too much.”

“I shall stop,” he tells you, uncurling his fingers.

“Stay,” you tell him, placing kisses across his chest, “Stay with me.”

Jace doesn’t answer with words, he doesn’t need to. He stays with you the remainder of the night, and the following evening you are bound together beneath the Weirwood tree in the godswood, before the eyes of the Old Gods and the New.

note: hope you liked it! just realized I don't have a Jace taglist so will be reblogging with general HOTD tags!

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fromtheseventhhell · 3 months

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“It was right,” her father said. “And even the lie was … not without honor.” He’d put Needle aside when he went to Arya to embrace her. Now he took the blade up again and walked to the window, where he stood for a moment, looking out across the courtyard. When he turned back, his eyes were thoughtful. He seated himself on the window seat, Needle across his lap. “Arya, sit down. I need to try and explain some things to you.” She perched anxiously on the edge of her bed. “You are too young to be burdened with all my cares,” he told her, “but you are also a Stark of Winterfell. You know our words.” “Winter is coming,” Arya whispered. “The hard cruel times,” her father said. “We tasted them on the Trident, child, and when Bran fell. You were born in the long summer, sweet one, you’ve never known anything else, but now the winter is truly coming. Remember the sigil of our House, Arya.” “The direwolf,” she said, thinking of Nymeria. She hugged her knees against her chest, suddenly afraid. “Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm. Septa Mordane is a good woman, and Sansa … Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you … and I need both of you, gods help me.” He sounded so tired that it made Arya sad. “I don’t hate Sansa,” she told him. “Not truly.” It was only half a lie. “I do not mean to frighten you, but neither will I lie to you. We have come to a dark dangerous place, child. This is not Winterfell. We have enemies who mean us ill. We cannot fight a war among ourselves. This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience … at home, these were only the summer games of a child. Here and now, with winter soon upon us, that is a different matter. It is time to begin growing up.” “I will,” Arya vowed. She had never loved him so much as she did in that instant. “I can be strong too. I can be as strong as Robb.”

This is literally Ned passing the torch to Arya, I don't make the rules

#arya stark #ned stark #asoiaf #literally the only Starkling to have a conversation with him like this and I'm supposed to believe that means nothing?#especially when she's remembering + trying to live by his advice? + the North is rallying for her? specifically as valiant Ned's daughter?#but the /lone wolf/ quote was important enough to steal from Arya and turn it into the unofficial motto of House Stark 😒#like if he'd had this conversation with Robb or Jon y'all would see it

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tobitofunction · 4 months

Text

the pact of ice and fire 4

part 1 part 2 part 3 part5

"I apologised already for it" Cregan defended but Sarah scoffed at that,"Oh he apologised" she mocked,"How about you sleep alone tonight will I take your wife out for the night" she said grabbing your hand which made you smile, "What?" Cregan asked,"Have fun sleeping alone Lord Stark as your wife won't be there to warm you, luckily wolves have thick fur" she smiled and dragged you away.

As soon as you left the room she let go of your hand,"I'm sorry for my behaviour-","Where will be going? Nights are long, what does Winterfell have to offer" you smirked taking her hand making her cheeks darken,"There is a nice little tavern within Winterstown, the food is good, I went there often as before Cregan became Lord his Uncle didn't like me eating with them" she said shyly making you frown,"Let's not dwell on it" she said taking your hand in hers and leading you towards to winter's town.

Every eye was focused on you, the silver-haired Westerner who became their Lady,"Princess Y/N, it's an honour to see you walk about" an elderly lady said," You have a beautiful town, it looks like a fairytale with all the snow" you said with a smile,"I own a tavern would you like to have a drink Princess" she said,"Your lady in waiting can join too" she said looking at Sarah,"She's my friend but I think she would love too" you said looking at Sarah who smiled warmly at you,"My apologies".

The tavern was small but cosy, people were chatting, and music was played by a couple of people but it came to a hold when you walked in,"It's Princess Y/N" someone said,"She married our Lord Stark in exchange for the Winter Wolves" someone else said,"So the north will be plunged into a war?","I heard her Uncle Aegon took the throne","I thought it was supposed be Princess Rhaenyra?","The House of the Dragon doesn't seem to know who rules it" someone answered the previous statement" Ignore them" Sarah said squeezing your hand, the old woman sat the two of you in a corner away from the crowd,"I bring you some wine" she smiled before leaving," I never thought about, how the people of the north would feel about being dragged into a war" you said playing with your rings,"House Stark made an oath and breaking it would be more controversial than being dragged into war" Sarah said,"The men are excited as they finally can do something besides hunt, and the women will have something to gossip about, it's not like we do much here anyway" she added as you sighed as the older woman came back with chalice filled with wine,"I hope it satisfactory for you Princess" she smiled,"Thank you for your kindness, here take this" you said handing her a handful of gold coins,"Princess, I can't-","Yes you can, I am sure you need it for something" she bowed her head,"Thank you Princess, I am glad that Lord Stark has wedded to you" she said before leaving again,"How do you feel about this war?" you asked Sarah as she took a sip from her wine," When your brother first came, I couldn't really care about it, the north isn't affected we are are to far away and don't have enough resources for the west to care, but my father made an oath and Starks don't forget their oaths so I knew my brother will join the fight, this marriage was something he didn't care for, he didn't need a marriage but his council did, my brother has no heir and you being unbetroth and as a Princess of the realm was like godsend, it was a pact they couldn't let slip and my brother knew that as well, so begrudgingly he accepted, but I can see he didn't expect to become fond of you so quickly" she smiled making your cheeks darken from embarrassment.

You were eating some rabbit stew when a young man approached you, he looked northern, with thick dark curly hair a matching beard and brown eyes,"Princess may I have this dance?" he asked hopefully, you looked at Sarah who nodded, you smiled at him and took his gloved hand,"You may" I said making his eyes twinkle, "What's your name" I asked," Harold, Princess, Harold Snow","You are bastard?" he nodded," A bastard of House Cerwyn, I'm the bastard of the previous Lord, I'm sorry it unforeseen of to ask you for a dance" he said letting go of you but you grabbed his wrist,"Why? You and I aren't as different as you may think, I enjoyed dancing with you" you smiled making him smile back at you,” I hope we can meet again” I said with a bow before turning to Sarah,”Let’s go we let Cregan suffer enough” she sighed,” he can suffer a bit longer” she muttered.

Cregan was still wide awake, sitting beside the fireplace when you opened the door,” I prayed you be back soon” he said getting up,” That’s considered of you Lord Husband” you said moving towards your closet,” I am truly sorry for leaving you” he began as you undressed,” It’s alright this a marriage of convince rather than love which is unlike your other marriages” you said making Cregan sigh,” Let me help you” he answered seeing you struggling a bit with laces at the back,” Thank you” you whisper feeling the pressure vanishing as Cregan unlaced your corset, his finger gently traced your spine when he saw the exposed skin,” Soft like silk” he muttered making your cheeks warm up,” Your hands are rough like dragon scales” you answered making him remove his hand slowly,” I am sorry-“,” It’s comforting makes me feel save” you cut him off while turning around, Cregan sighed softly and smiled, he continued to pull down your dress gently while gently caressing your skin as well,"I won't leave you again" he whispered,"You better not or I feed you to my dragon" you said softly making him smirk,"Wolves don't taste that well","Dragons eat anything, and I have to disagree Wolves do taste well"you smirked before kissing him and moving him to the bed.

Cregan slightly grunted when the back of his knees made contact with the bed,"I think it's only fair if you help me get undressed as well Princess" he teased against your lips. You smirked and untied his cloak," You have more layers than I do" you pouted while removing his layers of clothing," Wolves need layers to keep them warm and their dragon warm" he said grabbing your wrist as you were about to unlace his breeches, he pulled you flush against his body,"I want to make this marriage work, I don't want to be only about an alliance" he said," I don't want that either" you whispered, your purple eyes staring into icy grey ones, he kissed you in response and carefully lifted you onto the soft furs which covered your bed, your silver hair a stark contrast against the dark fur,"You are truly closer to the god than us humans" he said tracing your jaw before kissing you again.

*time skip*

You laid on Cregan's chest your leg thrown over his waist, with Cregan's arm was draped around your waist his thumb rubbing circles on your soft skin," Can I be honest with you?" you lifted your head,"Of course" Cregan sat up leaning his body against the headboard making you sit up as well,"I left because it became to real for me, as you know I lost two wives, one during childbirth the other due to sickness, I don't want you to die, I am clearly cursed-", "I am a Targaryen people already believe we are cursed, have you never heard the saying 'Every time a Targaryen is born the Gods toss a coin'?, another curse thrown my way won't do much." you said caressing his cheek, Cregan bit his lip and moved out of bed making you sigh, but instead of getting dressed and leaving as you thought he would he walked over to the dresser and pulled out a small box and handed it to you,"I couldn't find the perfect moment to give it to you, but I think this is the one" he said as you opened it and revealing the necklace he showed Jace," the valeryian steel dragon wrapped around a dragon glass sphere,"It's Valeryian steel, how did you-","It's a mystery I found in our vault" he said while taking int from your hand and placing it around your neck,"When I found I was advised not gift it you as every woman who wore it died soon after so it wasn't worn for centuries but I guess a Valeyrian Princess would be the only one who can wear it" he said admiring you with the necklace on,"Or you going to get yourself a third dead wife"you smirked,"I thought curses don't bother you" he joked back.

The next day you walked through the castle when you walked past the meeting room," How many were captured?" Cregan said making you stop and listen, unlike Kings landing no guard was stationed at the door,"4 my Lord" Lord Manderly of the White Harbour said,"The greens are coming closer than we thought, we need to engage soon lord Stark" Lord Cerwyn said,"That one-eyed bitch" a Lord cursed,"Aemond" you whispered,"Does we know what he wants in return of the hostages?" Cregan asked," Maybe an alliance" Crewyn said,"Who did they capture to think they can have that" The same voice who cursed Aemond out asked," Your son Lord Bolton alongside Torrhen Madly they were captured during a hunt" Lord Cerwyn said after a bit of silence,"What shall we do than?" Lord Manderly asked his voice full of emotion,"We send some men to them and get them back by force" Lord Bolton said, you shook your head before bursting through the door," Send me, I will get them back" you said making Lord Bolton chuckle,"What can a Princess do save some hostages, you are the reason we are in this situation anyway, your mother should just have accepted that Aegon -","Enough Bolton" Cregan said,"You will treat her with respect as both my wife and Princess of the realm" he said calmly," I have a dragon, let me face my Uncle" Cregan shook his head,"I appreciate the offer but I can't risk loosing your or your dragon. We go with Lord Bolton's plan and get back with force, Cerwyn you stay here, I be taking up arms with a portion of the Winter Wolves, we leave in two hours" Cregan said making the meeting come to an end.

You watched as Cregan left with some of his men," It's for the best little girl, a battlefield is no place for someone like you" Bolton said as he passed you,"Don't mind Bolton, he's an asshole to everyone" Cerwyn said,"How long will it take for them to arrive at the location of the hostages?" you asked making Cerwyn lift a brow,"A week at most" you hummed,"Thank you my Lord" you said before leaving,"You are welcome Princess" he said slightly confused. One your way to your room you saw Sarah," Just for the person I was looking for, I need your help" you said grabbing her arm.

taglist:

@southernraven @lunnnix

#cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan fanfiction #cregan x y/n #cregan x female!reader #cregan x Targaryen!reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x yn

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year

Text

The Winter Sun (20)

20. The march ahead

MASTERLIST

Summary: Cregan marches south, but something keeps you in Winterfell

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, talk about killing, war and all that comes with it, SMUT, breast milk involved, kind of body worship, teasing, talk about pregnancy, period blood (unrelated to the smut), might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Notes:I will pick up the pace a bit from here

Sara did not had premonitions, but she had nightmares every night

She dreamt of a sea of fire, and clouds of ash, she dreamt of a red sky and a howling wolf, that wasn't Cregan, nor you, she only hear it howling, and it sounded like he was mourning

She woke up sweating and panting every morning, worried, concerned, with a bitter taste in her mouth and unshed tears in her eyes

You in turn, were besieged by worries and concerns. The snow had melted, an army was gathering, and you knew it was a matter of days until Cregan marched south to help Rhaenyra’s claim

You caressed your husband’s dark locks as he opened his beautiful eyes and looks at you

“Good morning my love”, he greeted, leaning in and kissing your lips swiftly

After you recuperated, he had wasted no time in taking you whenever he could, not that you’d complain, you loved it, you loved him

When you separated, he looked deep into your eyes

“I bet you are with child again”, he whispered, a smile creeping on his lips

“Cregan…”, you warned, but a smile of your own was forming in your face, “is the timing right?”, you asked, and his face turned serious

“I need you to stay here in Winterfell”, he whispered then, and anger took a hold on you

“That is why you have been taking me so often?”, you asked, indignant, “so you’ll trap me with a baby? so I won’t go to war?”, you asked then, and Cregan sighed

“No”

“Don’t lie Cregan”, you whined, and he grunted, admitting defeat

“That is not the only reason but yes, I can’t have you go into battle with me”

“I have a dragon!”, you said, sitting on the bed, “I can burn enemies and cities to the ground and you will have me stay here?”, you asked, angry

“There is danger in war!”, he said again, “besides, we don’t know if the war will turn nasty, if it will even come to that”

“Of course it will!”, you said

“Rhaenyra won’t have us burning anything”, he admitted then, “she will not be the Queen of ashes!”

”Her son was killed!”, you said then, “armies will fight each other but dragons will fight other dragons”

“More reason for you not to go”, he said then, and you whined, “Dragons can fly from one point of the continent to the next one, if they come here you will be here to stop them”, he said then

And you were conflicted

“I don’t want you marching alone, when dragons fly the skies”, you said then, “it is dangerous, specially with that maniac”

“the Vale is for Queen Rhaenyra”, he said then, “danger will come when we reach the Riverlands and only then”, he was certain, convinced, “and that will be a month for now”

“Cregan”, you called, as a plea

“I will be with the more seasoned captain of the North”

“Old men”, you complain

“Wise, strong men, Northerners”., he said then

Winter had been tough, Winterfell and Winter’s Town had fared well, but only because of months of preparations, other towns and castles didn’t, people were hungry and tired, and when Cregan called his banners to war, only some answered

And the Winter wolves gathered

An army of old, seasoned men, who seeked a glorious death in battle, they said it was their time, to defend their young and their people from bloodshed, and protect the North. They were old, wild, fearless, experienced, and with a desire for death.

They were probably the best army to be formed in Westeros.

“I will keep you safe”, he said then, seating by your side and taking your hands in his

“Maybe I can keep you safe”, you tried, and he looked back at you with pity in his eyes

“Yes, you will be staying here”, he said certainly, “making me another child, protecting the North, keeping them warm, all the lords know you are here, they know their lady is keeping Winterfell safe”, how could you refuse his eyes? those beautiful eyes?, “for the Northerners it is important”, he continued, “there must always be a Stark in Winterfell”

“I’m not a Stark”, you said then

“But the beautiful son you gave me is”, he said, “he needs his mother, and the North needs their Lady”

“Promise me that you will call for me”, you demanded, and he looked into your eyes, “if you face something difficult, promise you will send a raven, for me to come to you”, you demanded again, he sighed, but relented

“I promise my love”, he said then

You started your day, Cregan got dressed and left the room to keep preparing his army, and you prepared yourself and your son, RIckon

He opened his huge eyes and the purple in them settled even more, he looked at everyone and everything now with wonder, and he had grown much, chubbier and healthier, sometimes you looked at him and you couldn’t believe he was here in your arms.

The constant noise coming from the courtyard set your nerves on edge, and you cradled your baby to keep calm, but it wasn’t working

You didn't want to admit it to Cregan, but it was true, your bloodmoon didn’t even returned after you gave birth and you were starting to feel nauseous, but that might be the nerves for the coming war, and not that you were expecting… Your breasts were still very sensible, but because you were still feeding Rickon…

It was too soon

And you didn’t want to admit that Cregan might have trapped you here, to “protect you”

You understood that he was afraid of you in the battlefield, but you would be with Vhaelar, what can anyone do to her? one of the biggest dragons? she had grown much since you had bonded with her.

And then you trembled when you thought of Vhagar

She was the biggest dragon in the world, and Aemond was heartless, a monster, who just used her to destroy Arrax and Lucerys… babies in comparison, he was going to use her to turn armies to dust and burn cities to the ground. You had no doubt about it.

You could only pray, the the old gods and the new that she was not going to face Cregan and his army

Cregan, at the same time, was meeting with Roderick Dustin, the brave man who had gathered the Winter Wolves, and was going to lead them into battle

“You should stay here, Lord”, he said firmly

“What kind of leader would I be if I do not lead my army into battle?”, he said, bitterly

“When we formed the Winter Wolves, we said it was to protect the young men and women, that included you as well”, he said. The man looked like a bear, Cregan thought, big, tall, broad, dressed in dark brown furs, his hair white but plentiful, just as his beard and mustache.

“I will lead the army”, he said

“Think of the lady of Winterfell, and your son, Lord, he had yet to see his first name day”

“The future of my house is secure”, he said, “the Lady and my son will stay here with the dragon, and we will march, I believe she is with child again”

“Much more reason to…”, but Cregan looked at him with severity, but he didn’t stop, “There is no shame if you stay Lord, we will give our lives for our Queen, but you don’t have to…”

“I will lead the army to Harrenhal”, Cregan said, “as we march South we will meet with the forces of Torrhen’s Square and the Cerwyn’s”, he continued, “I will see that the army is assembled, and then we will see, more forces are leaving White Harbor as we speak”, to the old man, this battle was lost, “I will always remember this, Lord Roderick, your family will be secured and protected”

“Thank you Lord”, he said

“Are we ready to march?”

“Tomorrow at first light”, he assured, and Cregan nodded

The want and need to stay was great, but he couldn’t. He needed to lead his men, he needed to avenge the usurpation of the crown, just as they usurped him of Winterfell, this could not go unpunished, he was sworn to Rhaenyra, and he needed… he had to avenge you, protect you of the greens, he could not send someone else to fight for his beliefs and his honor.

If the Gods willed him to die… he would have done so happily, having met you, had married you, and given you a child, maybe two, knowing he was doing his best to protect you from harm. You were secured, here in the North, nobody could touch you here

Sara came into your room when you were finishing feeding Rickon, he was asleep in your arms.

“Sleep evaded you again?”, you asked her, and she nodded, she sat by your side and leaned into you, you cuddled with her, “Nightmares again?”, she only nodded, “I’m sure everything will be fine”

“I dreamed of you before you arrived, I knew you were coming, I dreamt about Rickon… and he came to be as well”

“What did you dream about this time?”, you asked

“War and death”

“Cregan?”, you asked, and she shook her head

“I’m not sure”

“What can we do?”, you asked then

“Nothing”, she whispered, “only care for the North in the absence of the men”, And you sighed loudly, “if that is what is needed”

“Did you saw me?”, you asked, “on the battlefield?”

“I did not”, she said back

“What if I take Vhaelar, and…?”

“I haven’t seen it”, she continued, but as you looked down at your sleeping son, you knew you couldn’t leave here, you couldn’t leave him alone, even if he was with Sara.

You saw Cregan again at night, when he returned to your chambers, he had forbidden you from participating in the preparations for the march, and even know when you could hear the courtyard had turned into some sort of festivity, you could hear men celebrating, cheering, drinking, even a bard had started playing.

“Men are celebrating before we march”, he muttered, and you smile softly

“Don’t you want to join them?”, you asked, but as you asked him, he smiled and the door to your chambers was opened, and a group of servants entered, two of them bringing a huge copper tub, which they left in the middle of the room, and the others brought buckets filled with almost boiling water.

They set up the bath and then they left, as Cregan lit candles all over the room, and one of the maids took Rickon and left, giggling as the pups followed her and your baby. And you were alone with your husband

“I want to spend my last night here with my beautiful wife”, he said, turning to you, you raised from where you were seating and ,et him in the middle, right by the bath

“Please come back to me”, you whispered

“Always”, he leaned down and took your lips in his, his hand cradled your face as his other took your waist to keep you even close, your hands went to play with his wild hair

But his hands and himself grew hungry, he undid the lace at your back, keeping your dress in place, and you let it fall down your arms, and in a second you were naked in front of him. And then you undressed him slowly, deliciously, enjoying every second of it.

He help you to get in the tub, and then he entered the warm water and placed himself behind you, you in between his legs and you felt his manhood in your ass

You moaned, enjoying the warm water and him behind you, he surrounded you with his arms and you leaned, until your back was all laid against his chest

He kissed your shoulder

“My beautiful silver haired princess”, he purred

“My handsome winter lord”, you answered

“I will come back for you”, he said softly, “I promise you”

“I know you will”, you said back, “I really believe it”

“Good”, he dropped wet, open mouth kisses from your shoulder and up your neck, you shook between him, moaning wantonly, his hand did not stand idle and he cupped your full breasts

“Cregan”, you moaned, he pinched your swollen nipples between his index fingers and thumbs, and make you twist and turn on his hold, a little milk dripped and you whined, embarrassed, you leaned forwards wanting to shield from him but he didn’t release you

“What are you doing, woman?”, he asked, amused, “I am in the middle of something”

“Cregan”, you whined

“Come back”, he whispered in your ear, and you let yourself fall back onto him, he continued massaging your breasts, “you are such a good mother”, he whispered, and you moaned, “you are such a good wife, and Lady Stark”, he purred

“Cregan”, you were a wanting mess, the only thing you could do was saying his name, one of his hands left your breast to go down your body and tease your clit, you whimpered in need, you had been so horny this past days

“My sweet Lady”, he whispered, two of his fingers entered you so easily… you spread your legs until for him to enter you deeper, “my sweet wife”, he kissed your ear, and the side of your face

You cummed on his fingers when his thumb grazed your clit , and you came undone with his touch

“You are so receptive”, he admire, chuckling darkly

“My Lord HUsband”, you begged

“Tell me my love, what do you need?”, he teased

“You”

“You already have me”, he mocked

“I need you inside me”

“My fingers are inside you”

“Cregan”, you whined

“What do you need? you needy little lady?”

“Your cock”, you relented, and he chuckled, he placed both his hands on your hips to raise you, and accommodated you over his hard cock, you grabbed him under the water and you placed him in your entrance as he lowered you into him.

You moaned and your hips buckled when he was deep inside you, the water overflowed the tub and landed on the stone floor, making you both chuckle finding amusement in the middle of your pleasure

“When i come back, I hope we can welcome another member to our little family”, he said in your ear

“I hope so too”, you whispered

It was a great final night before you departed, Cregan took you in the bath, and then when you recuperated he help you dry and dress on your night dress, and then he went to fetch Rickon, he brought it back to you, and then he cuddled his son on his chest and you by his side, and you slept like that, together

“I will come back to you”, he promised sweetly in your ear, “I will come back for our son, I promise, by the Old Gods”

“And if you don’t… I will go find you on dragonback”, you warned, and he chuckled darkly, “I promise you that”

“I know you will”

You barely slept, and you barely let Cregan move if you were not touching him, he find it endearing, you grabbing his arm all morning while he talked to the men and prepared for the long journey ahead

Sara just followed you both around with Rickon in her arms, she was going to miss her brother too, as her concern grew every night when nightmares visited her chambers and wouldn’t leave, but she knew she couldn’t do anything, destiny could not be changed

But as promised, the army was ready, the horses were saddled, the carts were prepared, and Cregan had to march

“As soon as you reach Castle Cerwyn you will send a raven”, you told him, “and another in Moat Cailin, and then another when you take Harrenhal…”, he shushed you, cradling your face in his hands and quiet you with a kiss

“I will, I promise”, he said firmly, and then he turned to his son and Sara, Cregan took Rickon in his arms, your baby smiled at his father, and looked at him with those big magical eyes of him, he was so beautiful.

To the small group in the entrance of Winterfell, joined Lord Roderick Dustin, who had traveled from Barrowtown just to command the army right from Winterfell

“I will keep him safe, my lady”, said Lord Roderik, bowing to you, “and I will make sure he returns back to you, this i swear”

“You are most kind and loyal My Lord, my husband is lucky to have you by his side”, you said with a smile, he could see the sadness in your eyes, so he just nodded firmly

“I beg of you to protect the North in our absence”, he said gently

“With my life”, you answered, “and with fire and blood”, he seemed pleased, and almost proud as he smiled at you

“Protect Winterfell, please don’t burn it to the ground”, said Cregan, and you knew him enough to realize he dropped silly jokes to prevent you from seeing how sad and worried he was, so you just played along

“I can make no promises regarding fire”, you said with a silly smile, “but you can rest assured the people will be protected”, he laughed shortly, and then he engulfed you in a warm tight hug

When you separated, he looked into your eyes, and then his hand landed briefly in your belly

“I will return within the year”, he promised to you and to Sara

“I know you will”, Sara said, and that made you feel relieved, you three shared a significant hug, holding Rickon amongst you, and then Cregan departed from you. You took your son in your arms and Sara hugged your side as you saw Cregan saddle his horse.

He looked so tall and commanding atop his stallion, all the men around the courtyard stopped whatever they were doing to look at him

“Today, we march South”, he started, “We march for our Queen but make no mistake!” he shouted, “we will fight for the glory of our country! we will show these Southerners, we don’t take kindly to usurpers and drunks!”, people cheered for his words, “we do not take kindly to accept the rule of Aegon the usurper!”

“Queen Rhaenyra!”, they shouted,

“We march for our Queen, we march for the glory of the North! we march to save our families from the tyranny of the hIghtowers!”

“Yeah!”, they shouted back, and your eyes filled with tears and your chest filled with pride

“For the North!”, he shouted

“For the North!”, they responded

“For our Queen!”, he said then, and the people repeated it, “and for the Ladies of Winterfell!”, he said then, looking at you both

“FOR OUR LADIES!”, the Winter Wolves chanted then.

After the energetic speech, the Winter Wolves, atop their shaggy horses who had yet to shed the Winter fur, started to leave the safety of Winterfell’s walls, and soon with a last yearning look, Cregan followed them, leaving the grounds of the castle.

You waved your husband goodbye, and you stood in the doors of Winterfell until you couldn’t see him anymore, and you whimpered when you couldn’t, feeling like your heart has left with him

“Please come back to me”, you whispered to the wind. And as you were turning to get back to the castle, you felt something…

You passed Rickon to Sara quickly, and you ran back to your quarters, fearing the worst, and you lowered your undergarments, only to find…

“No no no please!”, you cried, eyes filled with tears when you realized your blood moon was upon you, it meant that Cregan’s seed did not take root, and he had left for war.

And suddenly, you felt like the promises you made to each other were not going to be so easy to keep.

taglist! ❤️

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel

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#misguidedwinter #cregan #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #house targaryen #house stark #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon

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dontbotherwiththepronunciation · 4 months

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"It is Arya of House Stark who chews on her lip whenever she is thinking. Are you Arya of House Stark?" - Cat of the Canals, AFFC

She bit her lip. "You may not recall, my lord, as I was littler then . . . but I had the honor to meet you at Winterfell when King Robert came to visit my father Lord Eddard." She lowered her big brown eyes and mumbled, "I'm Arya Stark." - Jaime IX, ASOS

"It won't be no beating, oh, no. I won't lay a finger on you. I'll just save you for the Qohorik, yes I will, I'll save you for the Crippler. Vargo Hoat his name is, and when he gets back he'll cut off your feet." - Arya VIII, ACOK

"Tell him, you tell him. I'll do what he wants … whatever he wants … with him or … or with the dog or … please … he doesn't need to cut my feet off, I won't try to run away, not ever, I'll give him sons, I swear it, I swear it …" - Theon, ADWD

The direwolf was the sigil of the Starks, but Arya felt more a lamb, surrounded by a herd of other sheep. She hated the villagers for their sheepishness, almost as much as she hated herself. - Arya VI, ACOK

It was the girl who held them here, Lord Eddard's blood, but the girl was just a mummer's ploy, a lamb in a direwolf's skin. - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

'Why did you make your people lambs, when the world is full of wolves?' - Barristan I, TWOW

#jeyne poole #Arya stark #asoiaf #speaking

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madame-fear · 1 year

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ok but honestly like Dark!Lucerys with a stark reader, like instead of him going to storms end he went to winterfell and met cregans younger sister, he’s so obsessed with her, seeing her walk around with her direwolf, that soft smile she gives him whenever he walks past her. jesus kicking my feet rn holy shit

OMG YESSS TOTALLY. Oh my god, Dark!Lucerys drives my imagination wild, I think I will have to write a one shot about this eventually😩

The second Lucerys arrived to Winterfell on Arrax such as his mother requested him to do so in order to get more allies for the Black Team of House Targaryen, his eyes would immediatly be fixed on you, standing right by the side of your elder brother, Cregan Stark.

There is something about you that has simply stolen all of his entire concentration, and attention. Maybe it's your features, how your dark hair seems beautiful in the snowy, cold environment of Winterfell, or perhaps... The way you so gracefully smiled at him, and curtsied down as to politely greet him upon his arrival.

Seven Hells, the entirety of his stay in Winterfell, even if it's just for some hours, he can't take his hazel eyes off you. Though the feelings for you would grow very slowly yet surely, the intensity is still vividly felt growing inside of him whenever you speak to him with such a soothing voice, and every move of yours is soft and graceful.

With the passing of time, Lucerys would find excuses to go to Winterfell and talk to you, or even, have House Stark invited as a special guest in Dragonstone — going as far as offering you to stay for several days. Sometimes, to return the favour, you'd even offer House Targaryen to spend some days in Winterfell. And whenever one of your Houses stays several days in either Winterfell or Dragonstone? Please, that'll be when his obsession for you would be felt more fervidly.

At Winterfell, Lucerys would often try to follow you in a discreet manner. Perhaps would just stalk you just to see where will you be going just to later on 'casually' bump into you and talk — admiring every inch of your features, and savouring the memory it remains with him. And savouring the way your sweet scent invades the environment around him.

Whenever you're riding your direwolf, he'll be there; staring from afar. The way you have such an ease to deal with wolves and ride on top of them with such grace and beauty just makes him want to protect you even more, and have you all for himself. His hazel eyes would lurk around you, even if you don't notice him, but he's there — swooning over you, and just keeping more memories of you for himself. Don't be surprised if during one of those times he's gazing at you ride your direwolf he'll approach to talk to you, and hear that dulcet voice of yours.

Or when you're walking around and pass nearby him, you'll shoot him a kind smile, and rapidly gaze down in a certain timid manner down at the floor, still vastly grinning. And oh, when you do that... Please, you'll drive him mad.

Lucerys would just become your very own shadow. You'll notice, that with the passing of time that House Stark is with House Targaryen, he'll always somehow be near you, it doesn't matter where you are. You'll find him staring and smiling at you, bump into him in the library, strolling in the gardens of Dragonstone... Wherever, he'll strangely be there, always near you, discreetly lurking you.

And if someone has the audacity to flirt with you? Oh, things will become much, much more obsessive with a Dark!Lucerys. It doesn't matter whether it's his very own brother Jacaerys the one flirting with you, or someone else — you're his, and no one elses. He won't be afraid of interrupting the flirting, and using an excuse to drag you away from the situation, even if you're unaware he's doing that because Luke can't stand someone trying to get his darling's attention.

The mere thought of you being with someone else sickens him deeply, and sparks a certain thought and behaviour that is creepily obssesive, and possesive over you — not caring if he just has to drag you away from everyone in your life, but he can't risk losing your attention. Even, since his compulsive dark behaviour gets the best of him, he won't be afraid to be a bit more audacious and pull you into a dark corner where no one else is nearby, and just let you know that you are only his, and your beauty and absolute perfection is only for him to admire and cherish.

Only he will be the lucky one of getting to admire every inch of your skin, and receive every single display of affection from you. You are his one and only darling, his most beloved treasure. And he thanks the Seven for having brought into his life such perfection of a woman.

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gendrie · 3 months

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And no one had raised a voice or drawn a blade or anything, not Harwin who always talked so bold, or Alyn who was going to be a knight, or Jory who was captain of the guard. Not even her father. (Arya, AGOT)

a notable aspect to arya's arc is her having to confront that the northerners, both stark men and their bannermen, are flawed and, frequently, of dubious loyalty. this issue is introduced very early on, in her second chapter, and it leaves arya reeling. she had an idealized perspective of these men, in particular, those who serve her father and eddard himself. arya is close with the stark household and admires her father. so arya is deeply disappointed when none of them prevent the injustices on the trident.

She might have been able to trick a Frey or one of the Brave Companions, but the Dreadfort men had served Roose Bolton their whole life, and they knew him better than she did. If I tell him I am Arya Stark and command him to stand aside . . . No, she dare not. He was a northman, but not a Winterfell man. He belonged to Roose Bolton. (Arya, ACOK)

in harrenhal she learns the (horrific) extent to which northern men will inflict harm themselves when the boltons take over the castle. they kill, rape and terrorize those within and arya is forced to watch it all. roose is one of robb's bannermen, but he is not worthy of trust nor are those who serve him and arya realizes this as she escapes the castle.

The look she gave him was full of hurt. "I thought you were my father's man." "Lord Eddard's dead, milady. I belong to the lightning lord now, and to my brothers." [...] He gave her a searching look. "Can you understand what I am telling you?" "Yes." That he was not Robb's man, she understood well enough. And that she was his captive. (Arya, ASOS)

and even men who formerly served at winterfell can find new leadership. harwin is someone arya knew since she was a little baby, but he is no longer a man of winterfell. arya is, understandably, resentful of being taken captive, but her dynamic with the brotherhood is layered. they do treat her well and want to do right by her despite their plan to ransom her. arya also accepts that they need resources to fund their mission. harwin shows that he still care for the starks by pleading with beric to revive catelyn.

She looked at their filthy hair and scraggly beards and reddened eyes, at their dry, cracked, bleeding lips. Wolves, she thought again. Like me. Was this her pack? How could they be Robb's men? She wanted to hit them. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to cry. They all seemed to be looking at her, the living and the dead alike. The old man had squeezed three fingers out between the bars. "Water," he said, "water." (Arya, ASOS)

again, arya is forced to witness the crimes the northerners (and their allies) committed in the riverlands. the karstark men are being tortured to death for their crimes when arya rides thru the stoney sept. she does not look away, but instead she shows them mercy. arya gives each man one last drink of water before they are executed. this is something i feel embodies her responsibility as a stark: to show mercy but to see that justice is met

these are significant experiences for arya. its an extension of ned's advice to "know the men who follow you". arya needs to know the limitations, failings, loyalties and crimes of those who claim to serve house stark. whoever is going to lead the north cannot be ignorant of those nuances. this is the stuff of northern leadership.

#asoiaf nonsense #broken record post lol #but honestly?#if arya was a male character these experiences would NOT be taken for granted #she's overlooked for a position thats given to an offpage toddler and a character who's yet to interact with any northmen #make it make sense

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writeshite · 1 year

Text

Puppy Love

Summary:

“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip, circling each other at a slow pace. “I would agree.” His arm moves up, and you meet it, wrists side by side, “dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.” You chuckle, “I should say the same; wolves are equally as captivating."

Pairings:

Robb Stark x Male Reader

Tags:

Targaryen Reader | Fluff | Smitten Robb Stark

Words: 2122

Author's Note:

I have not actually watched the show or read the books fully 👉🏾👈🏾 I know things, but most of my knowledge is sporadic and random; it'll be like 60% accurate, I think....in my defense, I want dragons, and I also want Robb Stark, so like what else am I supposed to do 💀. Also, sorry if the High Valyrian in here is shit; I'm very behind in my Duolingo course.

“The dragons have taken back the Iron Throne.”

Robb didn’t quite know how to react to the news; his battle had been for the North, and the workings of the other kingdoms and their squabbles had never immensely mattered to him as much as he knew they should. The ball had been his mother’s suggestion, correction insistence, “As king, you should set an example and get ahead of the other kingdoms.”

The Targarayens arrive on dragon back - each on a separate one - the beasts shake the ground when they land, thunderous roars echoing into the skies. Her Majesty, Daenerys Targaryen, is poised, expression calm as she descends her dragon; another figure follows behind her - the Queen's Hand Missandei - the other dragon rider, steals more of Robb’s attention. Expression perhaps more joyful, you appear rather ill-equipped for the weather, furs less than satisfactory in Robb’s opinion. Your attire appears snow-touched, with little color - a touch of red on the collar of your coat - and dragon detailing on the lapels. Your silver locks are platted back in a simplistic rider’s style, held together by an intricate golden band.

Your company trails behind, arriving just moments later. Robb is accompanied by his mother, Sansa, and Arya, the latter of the three stares in awe at the dragons. Robb picks up a bit of conversation as you approach them, dying down when you come to stand in front of them; the words are of another tongue - High Valyrian, he thinks. “Your grace,” he greets, “welcome to Winterfell.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark,” she gestured to one side, “you know of my wife and hand, Missandei,” Robb nods, and she gestures to you, “and my cousin.”

“A pleasure,” you greet him.

Robb had yet to follow etiquette, and in the spirit of that, he responds to your greeting and awaiting handshake with a kiss - placed on the back of your hand. Your skin trembles in the cold, cool to the touch; he rubs his thumb along it in an effort to create some heat. The purple of your eyes was entrancing, deep pools that drew his gaze easily. His mother’s cough draws him back; her disapproving and mildly irritated glance is counteracted by Sansa and Arya’s amused ones. The servants lead you to your temporary quarters, and Robb’s linger on your retreating form; his mother’s lecture drifts elsewhere in his mind, barely settling before it’s tossed aside by the glee of seeing you once more at the welcoming banquet.

Winterfell was colder than you expected.

The invitation had seen no hurried response - with the rebuilding of King’s Landing, a new Dragon’s Pit, and many other matters - coming to Winterfell had primarily been driven by the need for a break. You rode on Morghon, Daenerys, and Missandei rode on Drogon, with Rhaegal and Viserion following and a company of Dothraki followed from the ground. The cool weather had been the first thing you’d noted, the second being the admittedly attractive King in the North. He donned a thick fur cape overtop his attire, a ringlet crown surmounted by iron spikes, and three wolves at the central front.

“Dubāzma,” you shrug at Daenerys’ warning tone; you hadn’t done anything; you simply glanced at the man.

You counter such, “Eman gaomagon daorun, ivestragon zirȳla Missandei.”

Missandei shakes her head, amusement in her tone, “Iā bughegon isse suvion iēdar kostilus,” she jests.

You shake your head, and the conversation breaks off as Lord Stark welcomes you to Winterfell. Daenerys responds with light introductions for both Missandei, then you.

“A pleasure,” you say once introduced, hand held out, ready for a handshake. Lord Stark does something far different. Taking your hand, he turns it over and lays a peck on the back of it, causing Lady Stark’s eyes to grow wide in surprise and his sisters’ expressions to morph into grins.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replies, eyes locked on yours as he does so. His hand remains with yours for seconds longer, thumb caressing the skin, and when her ladyship breaks the brief haze with a cough, he leaves behind a phantom warmth.

The temporary chambers are cozy, readily warm, and stocked with furs; you set your luggage by the bed and don’t dwell too long on them - furs, a bed, fire, and comfort - as the welcome banquet requires far more attention. You replace your traveling coat with one more suitable for festivities - dark with gold embroidery and light fur trimming on the bottom. You exit the room to find Lord Stark’s figure leaning against the wall opposite, and a smile lights his face at the sight of you.

“Have you come to escort me, Lord Stark?” you inquire.

“If you’d allow it,” he responds with a hint of hope. You chuckle and nod, drawing out a broader smile on his face. The hall is not as far off as you’d imagined; light chatter filters through the open doors as people mill into the open-spaced hall. Far from the entrance sits a horizontally set long table - the Starks on the right, Taragrayens on the left - the other tables line the sides, leaving the middle empty.

“Lord Robb of House Stark, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell…” the announcer declares, drawing attention to you both; he announces you next, “...of House Targaryen….” It had been your idea to drop your name of Velaryon, “...Dragonheart of Old Valyria, and Prince of The Ashes.” The latter of the titles stood more as a slight mockery, with your old life on the remnants of Old Valyria, those that had spotted you and Morghon had called you that in whispers.

You take the two remaining seats at the long table, Robb near the center, you near the edge, close to Missandei. The food is wonderful; meats, deserts, ale, and various Northern delicacies are brought to the tables - the honeyed chicken may well become one of your new favorites. People begin to mingle after the main courses as music fills the halls in steady beats; you follow suit at Lord Stark’s request to dance.

“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip, circling each other at a slow pace.

“I would agree.” His arm moves up, and you meet it, wrists side by side, “dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.”

You chuckle, “I would say the same; wolves are equally as captivating,” your arms turn, both palms now against the other; he laces his fingers with yours, a cheeky grin on his face. You turn to circle in the opposite direction, the crowd around you filtering out as you remain fixated on each other. You draw back, hands still intertwined; coming back again, he places his other hand on your shoulder as yours goes to his hip. A few paces and you should separate from the other, turn to another person and carry on the dance, but you don’t, remaining in each other’s grasp as you drift across the floor.

The music changes and a joyful beat begins; the formality is lost as the crowd of dancers switches to more upbeat and expressive movements. Lord Stark tugs at your arm, head tilting towards the doors; you turn briefly to glance at the long table - Lady Arya is immersed in conversation with Daenerys; Missandei and Lady Sansa are the same; Lady Stark herself, however, appears to have swallowed a lemon, eyes glaring daggers at his Lordship. You return your attention to said man and allow him to drag you away from the hall.

Robb hadn’t paid much attention to his mother’s lecture; her words went in one ear and out the other; she wasn’t angry, not truly, merely cautious. The interest seemed mutual to some extent, though the matter of marital affairs would be complicated - gods know the Lords of Westeros would turn their noses high in disgust - his almost engagements had all fallen through when he’d paid them little mind.

“Robb Stark!” His mother’s voice cuts through his thoughts, “I understand your attraction circumvents what the realm would regard as suitable, but that is no excuse, do not trifle with him; we don’t need them setting our lands ablaze.”

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” Sansa comments after their mother leaves.

Robb purses his lips; a wise man would take the words to heart and cease whatever he was doing - even if this interaction bore positive fruit, there was no certainty it would be in the best interest of the North. Her Majesty could have him abdicate his throne in favor of moving into the Targarayen household, or she could disapprove of him and feed him to her dragons. Robb was a man of heart, the kind that intercepted the servant at your chambers and took it upon himself to escort you personally to the dining halls.

Your previous coat has been replaced by a darker one; golden dragon heads decorate the cuffs, and it sits tighter on your person, with the fur trimming at the bottom fluttering delicately as you walk. “Have you come to escort me, Lord Stark?”

“If you’d allow it,” he responds, and gods, he hopes you would. He feels himself smile wider at your agreement, arm threaded with yours; the short walk to the dining halls leaves him ecstatic.

“Lord Robb of House Stark, King in the North, Lord of Winterfell…” the declaration echoes in the hall; brief glances become more fixated on your intertwined arms. His mother’s eyes squint, a frown on her face, “...of House Targaryen, Dragonheart of Old Valyria, and Prince of The Ashes.”

Robb thanks the gods; his mother’s seat is further from him; if looks could kill, he’s certain he’d have died at the entrance. “You’ve taken to my cousin quite quickly, Lord Stark,” Her Majesty’s voice draws his attention.

Her gaze is steady as she regards him, “I suppose, your grace, is that a problem?”

It’s no secret that certain parts of Westeros and their rulers disapprove of other attractions; Robb’s not quite sure where his father would have stood on the matter - he imagines him supportive - he knows his mother prefers he be less expressive on the subject. Queen Daenerys had been quite clear on her stance, disregarding the disapproval of her new laws and marriage, though that’s not to say she would like to have him as her in-law.

“Not as long as he is happy, and well,” she answers, “I have little family left; I cannot help my worry.”

There is an underlying threat to her words, and Robb nods in understanding, and it satisfies her enough to turn away from him. The food is brought in just after - honeyed chicken, venison pies, cod cakes, ale, candied bread - the music begins near the tail end of the feast. Some sway to the tune, conversations carrying in the air, as the music changes to something more befitting a dance. He stands and moves down the long table towards you, “Care for a dance?”

“One would think you’ve become besotten with me, Lord Stark,” you quip.

“I would agree; dragons are a rare sight in the North; anyone would be enamored.” Your arms meet in the middle, level to your heads, as you circle each other; even as the other dancers switch partners, you remain together. Up until the music changes and a less formal tune carries in the air, you follow suit, hand in Robb’s as he drags you from the hall. You stroll idly through the halls, hands held together and swung lowly and sharing idle chatter.

“What do you call your dragon?”

“Morghon,” you respond, “it means death, a fitting name. Would you like to see him?” Robb pursed his lips, and you chuckled at his hesitation, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of dragons,” you teased; coming to a halt, you tugged him closer, “certainly not after flirting with one.”

He can feel the heat creep up his neck and imagines his skin pinker at the moment, “What if he bites?”

“He won’t,” your graze drifts a little lower, “but I could.”

“Is that an invitation to your bed, my prince?”

“If you’d like, you could show me how warm the North could be. I’m sure a few hours of demonstration should suffice.”

“The demonstration will have to wait for another time, your grace,” his mother’s voice cuts in. You both jump apart, hands loosely held together; she grabs Robb by the arm, “I apologize for the interruption, your grace, but we have some familial matters to attend to.” His face pinches into a frown as his mother leads him away; he remains turned enough to send you a brief wave and a smile and is thrilled to see you return it.

End Note:

Hope you enjoyed this mess. Stay hydrated.

#robb stark x male reader #robb stark x reader #game of thrones imagine #shut up i want dragons alright #i am disregarding canon because i think he's too hot to die #and also cause there's like a few solid male reader fics i think and the rest aren't so here comes the petty dragon riding bitch #if you came here expecting canon accuracy go touch some grass this is fanfic we don't know the meaning of that word

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leviathanspain · 1 year

Text

when i’m down on my knees, you’re how i pray

aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader

synopsis: you had an unspoken agreement to avoid each other. but you had found it difficult to follow

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

a dinner to commemorate family. it was a laughable occasion, considering your mother and sister were at each others throats all the time, especially after aemond lost his eye. the tensions were high, with every fork scraped against a plate, alicent turned an eye towards rhaenyra.

you put a hand on her sleeve, pursing your lips in reassurance, alicent closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “i have an announcement.” you blushed red suddenly, pulling your hand back, you realized what she was meaning to say.

she stood up, raising a glass, she looked at rhaenyra with smugness, “my daughter y/n has been betrothed to the heir of winterfell.” she said it with an energy that it clearly wasn’t in your best interests. but in the interest of the house. alicent raised her eyebrow with pleasure to see rhaenyras reluctance to raise her glass, daemon waved his up in the air, casting you an unreadable look. this was all clearly a jest to him, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

you looked down at your plate with shame, embarrassment almost that your mother would use you as a pawn against your sister. you had no bad blood with rhaenyra and her family, but there was also no amity. you couldn’t recall the last time you had a conversation, except with your uncle daemon, who always had something to talk to you about.

with your surprise, you saw aemond get up from across the table. he stood up, and raised his goblet. there was something of a sardonic smile on his face, “to my sweet, dear, precious, supple sister. i wish you all the best with the wolves in the north.” as he bore his gaze into you, you felt your heart crack. aemond was clearly everything but joyful. his laying it on thick was just an example of what he felt, he was angry.

alicent had made it clear that you two could marry, being the only pairing that didn’t need to marry for political standings. but now it seemed like she had either lied, or simply saw another way to beat the blacks.

everyone gave a singular clap of applause and continued on with their dinner. but you had excused yourself quickly after, quietly walking away.

the knock on your door was expected. dinner had seemingly commenced just twenty minutes after you had excused yourself, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if aemond had come to seek you out.

you opened the door and saw aemond standing there. his arms were crossed with a sense of hostility, and he let himself in, shoving past you into the room. he peered around the room, finding it to be the same, aemond stared down at you, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“why do you care?” you rolled your eyes, and padded back towards the bed. you threw yourself back into your abundance of pillows and blankets, a sigh escaping you as you looked up at the ceiling.

“don’t act like you don’t care.” he warned, a sharpness to his voice.

you huffed, “really? you think your sweet, dear, precious, supple sister, cares?” you mocked him, your hands turning into fists with frustration, “i hate her. i hate her…” you whispered, and suddenly you teared up, “she promised-“

aemond’s anger subsided and he raised his eyebrow at you, “what did she promise?”

you shook your head, “it is no longer important.” you saw aemond near the edge of the bed, “is the yelling done? or have you come for something else?”

aemond shook his head, “i- no. i will take my leave.” he turned sharply on his heel, your vulnerability was something he wouldn’t take advantage of, not today.

the days seemed to pass with a heaviness. the pressure on your shoulders felt like pounds of bricks, and you were slowly falling apart under it.

you had avoided aemond, and thrown yourself into the politics of getting married. but soon you found yourself at a discontent, and wished for something familiar.

you had snuck out of your quarters and turned down the hall to aemonds. you pushed the door open and a small creak echoed. aemond sat up in his bed, alarm painting his face. his hair was down, his eyepatch was off and he was clearly lacking clothes under the sheets.

aemond looked at you, “sister? what are you doing here?” your face was unreadable, and aemond didn’t say anything as yoh neared the bed, “i don’t want to marry cregan. i know that we have avoided each other but-“ you sat on the bed, “i don’t want that, brother.” you looked at aemond, your eyes lower than usual, there was something of a neediness to you.

“it’s been days and i can’t-“ aemond raised his eyebrow as he listened to you, “i cant do it like you do. please-“ you had a hand on the sheets and aemond smirked slightly, “missing your brothers cock, are we?”

you nodded, “yes. please, let me show you how much i really missed it.”

aemond pulled the sheets back and you were not surprised to see his roaring erection on the base of his belly.

you grabbed it, and moved completely on the bed. your legs over his, you brought his cock to your mouth, your tongue dragging over his tip, aemond shuddered slightly.

the salty taste of his precum was on your lips as you looked at him. his eyes were closed in a sort of anguish, “come on sister, don’t be shy.” he egged you on and so you did, taking him in your mouth completely, you felt him hit the back.

you gagged, pulling back iust as aemond reached up. he grabbed your hair in his hand, and you pushed yourself down after a gasp for air. he helped guide you as you choked on him. he was too busy groaning to even use his strength.

you gripped his legs and aemond came just as a hand had reached down to tug on his balls. his cum spurted all over your face, ribbons into your mouth, he was a groaning mess.

aemond shuddered, letting his hand drop from your hair, his cock was twitching as it fell out of your grasp.

aemond could barely register you starting to straddle him. you grabbed his cock and he hissed, it was still extremely sensitive but you had already been stuffing it into your cunt.

aemond groaned at the pleasure, feeling you around him was something he had been missing. his hands laid at his side, unable to even grip your waist like normal, you were fucking yourself on his cock with urgency.

the bed rocked with your movement, the creaking of the wood was like music to aemonds ears. and as long as he tried to last, the image of your breasts bouncing with the rest of you on his cock had sent him over the edge.

ribbons of cum splattered into your cunt. aemond was twitching slightly under you, struggling to even speak, he held you there, grabbing your waist.

you leaned down and gave him a kiss, “thank you.” as you got up, feeling the hot cum drip down your leg, aemond didn’t move, still reeling from the pleasure.

#hotd aemond #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine

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lilap20 · 2 months

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Chapter VI: The Wedding

@koobratzy

@beebeechaos

New chapter released, hope you like it

The Kingdom holds its breath as the day of greatest union ever seen in the history of Westeros arrives. Princess Targaryen, second daughter of King Viserys, marries the Lord of Winterfell, unifying the two greatest Houses of the North and the South. It is said that many came to see this wedding, dragons roared in the night, wolves howled marking a great alliance. It is said that the ceremony was intimate, with love flowing from both bride and groom But the most interesting is undoubtedly the night you go to bed. Princess Nymeria was aged ten and six, Lord Cregan twenty. Many might say that the bride and groom would have waited until the Princess was ten and seven years old, but Maesters and Mushroom agree that the Princess was a worthy descendant of Princess Alyssa, her grandmother. It is said that Winterfell Castle was shaken by bedroom noises until early in the morning.

-It's the day ! Talyssa and Rhaenyra shout

It's the day…

All around me, everyone is busy, the servants are opening the luggage, the castle is being prepared for the reception, I am being grabbed everywhere and I don't see Cregan all day. It weighs on my heart a little but I have too many problems to think about it for long.

With my aunt and my sister I organize my outfits, listening to my aunt's advice carefully. My sister and Talyssa weave the pearls and rubies that will style my hair, I watch my aunt explain the duties of marriage to me, I have never been so embarrassed.

-Listen to me Nymeria, she said inspecting my dress, a good husband does not hurt his wife in the marital bed, and I turn purple, he is gentle and loves his wife.

Rhaenyra tenses when she hears our aunt's sideways glance at her. It is true that her marriage with Leanor is not yet bearing fruit, but we cannot ignore my cousin's inclinations either.

-From this union, the Kingdom expects a lot, continues my aunt inviting me to extend my hands, but you must not live only for duty, she smiles at me caressing my hands, enjoy your marriage and your husband my dear cousin .

My heart melts in my chest and without even waiting or thinking I throw myself into his arms, holding him against my heart touched by his words. The words they say now are the words my mother should have said.

-Thank you very much Aunt Rhaenys. I whisper against her

Tense against my embrace, she ended up giving me two pats on the back, then caressing my hair in a motherly way.

-You're welcome, my little cousin, you can count on me.

I haven't eaten since I broke my morning fast, the stress spinning like a ball in my stomach. The guests were arriving, the castle in the North was silent, the old town was becoming noisy and nervousness was playing with my mind.

My dress hangs in front of me, its pure color only increasing my apprehension. I will be married tonight, my cousin Ser Leanor will take me to my husband, and the Gods know I wish it was Daemon.

-Stop thinking too much.

I turn around watching my future husband's sister Sara come into my room, she didn't knock and her appearance took me by surprise, only I like her comforting smile on her face.

-How do you know I'm thinking? I ask inviting her to sit with me

She sits in front of me placing a large bag in front of us, I observe her for a while seeing a certain fur overtakes it.

-Every bride thinks about her wedding day, I can't imagine what's going on in your head given the stakes.

It is true that my marriage is not just a simple union between two beings who love each other, but it represents the union of the North and the South. This is the only marriage between a Stark and a Targaryen. The children who will emerge from this union will be almost like Gods to the people of the South.

-Don't worry too much, Princess, Sara smiled, my brother has loved you since the day he laid eyes on you. And I can assure you that he is in the same state as you.

My curiosity is immediately stirred and I ask him with my hand on my mouth as if it were a dirty secret:

-Is he really? Nervous ?

Surprised by my question Sara remains a little open-mouthed before laughing exactly like Cregan but with a thinner voice. I find myself smiling when I see her laugh, she will be a good friend, everything about her exudes confidence like her brother.

-My Princess, she smiled, trying to stop her laughter, I have never seen him in such a state, he is so confident, yet now he is only nervous.

It reassures me that Cregan is in the same state as me, I don't like being alone with the nervousness. Sara frowns when she sees that I haven't broken my lunch, she advises me to eat, but I explain to her that I can't swallow anything because I'm too nervous.

-You should really eat Princess, Sara points out, but I'm bringing you this, a gift that my brother can't take you.

My heart reacted a quarter of the time hearing that Cregan sent me a gift. I thanked him, opening the bag and my jaw dropped to the floor when I saw it. Beautiful soft white fur, my hand dips into it and I compare it to the clouds in the sky. It is not long dragging on the ground, it is worn on the shoulders.

-She’s beautiful… I whisper

-She is the piece that was missing from your dress. Adds Sara while smiling -She is.

We stay talking for a long time, and I get to know my future sister, she manages to make me eat which surprises my eldest when she comes into my room. Then Sara leaves, excusing herself to go see Cregan, leaving the women of my House to give me a bath and take care of my hair.

It is at this moment that I understand that evening is falling and that the ceremony will not take long.

The bath as hot as the dragon with scents of roses and spices from Pentos perfumes my skin making it soft to the touch. But I'm not concerned about the softness of my skin, or the noises behind my door, no. I am transfixed in front of my portrait which is reflected in the large glass. My silver hair is tied in a large braid wrapped around my elegantly tied hair, on top the pearls and rubies braided by my sister and Talyssa make it sparkle.

My snow-white wedding dress is decorated with a scaled pattern representing the dragon, its long sleeves have the pattern of dragons and wolves and dragons in silver satin, two brooches close the front of the dress, one Targaryen the other Stark, and the dress flares out from my tight waist. And to top it all off, the beautiful white fur that surrounds my neck and shoulders going down to my forearms and a little down my back.

-Gevis. Someone whispers and I jump

My heart races, my mouth drops open when I see my uncle Daemon leaning against the door with a satisfying smile on his lips. Even before my brain commands it, I jump into his arms, probably surprising him.

-Oh my little adventurer who are you going to fight in this outfit? He mocks, caressing my back

-What are you doing here ? I ask walking away from him

-Aren't you happy to see me? Daemon asks, raising an eyebrow.

A smile splits my face.

-Yes I'm happy, I really am, but you told me that…

-The scholar of Pentos allowed Leana to travel on the back of a dragon with me, my uncle explained to me, I didn't want to take the risk but your father sent me a raven urging me to go to the wedding and take you to your husband, so I spoke to the Lord of the North who swore to keep this a secret until I arrived here.

My jaw quickly finds the floor, so Cregan knew about Daemon?

-You came because Viserys told you to come? I ask playing with my fingers

-No, little adventurer, I came because I had to and I wanted to, it’s me who’s supposed to take you in front of your husband and not Leanor. You are like my daughter Nymeria, without even Viserys' letter I could not have left you alone.

Tears appear in my eyes and a small drop runs down my cheek, Daemon wipes it away with the back of his thumb, a tender smile on his face. Then Daemon will be the one to give me to Cregan, I am overjoyed.

-So cousin Leana is with you?

-Yes, smiled Daemon, she is with her parents going to the Heart Tree.

My throat tightens as I think of the guests heading to the place of the gods for the ceremony. My uncle notices this and comes over to take my hands in his.

-Everything will go well, your future husband is as nervous as you, proof that he undoubtedly loves you.

-Thank you for being here. I sigh looking at him

Daemon smiles fully something rare before leaving me to head towards the package he gave me.

-You didn't open it. Does he notice

-I was waiting for the wedding, I answer, I would like to open it now.

I approach and Daemon hands it to me so that I can open it, I discover the package with wide eyes at its contents. It's not often that Daemon gives me jewelry, he usually saves it for Rhaenyra, but for this day, he gave me a beautiful pair of dragon wing earrings, the gold and the glass shines and sparkles when I hold them.

-It's diamond and gold, I had it forged for you, you will be here with the Starks but I don't want you to forget that you are a Targaryen and that you are the dragon. You are the fire in the winter, you will also be additional security for the North, your children will speak Valyrian and will know their stories, and they will undoubtedly have Dragon and Giant Wolf. But you are still Targaryens, you are a Princess Nymeria, and I am proud of you. You do me honor.

My heart overflows with tears of joy and my hands tremble when I hear it. He brings me support and courage but above all love at this moment when I need it more than anything. I'm ready to take the step, I'm ready to go to my wedding.

The Heart tree in front of me is different from the one in the Red Keep. It is larger, wider, more majestic and its red is flamboyant. But my gaze is not fixed on this God of the Forest, my gaze is fixed on the man below. In his furs, shaved and coiffed, his gaze riveted on me, Cregan stands waiting for me for the wedding.

There were very few guests for the vow ceremony, present from my House, my Uncle and my Aunt Rhaenys and Corlys, my sister and heiress Rhaenyra and my cousin Leanor with them my pregnant cousin Leana and my Uncle who is holding my elbow with honor and emotion. Talyssa is there too, tears streaming down her cheeks causing my body to churn with love. Queen Alicent looks down at me from my sister's side, jealousy and contempt play on her face, but she smiles when our eyes meet.

On Cregan's side, his sister Sara is standing in the front row, with her members of House Bolton and other guests.

With my heart beating I approach Cregan and the big bearded man in front of the tree I jump making Daemon laugh when the ceremony begins:

-Who comes before the ancient Gods this night? Exclaims a big bear man

-Princess Nymeria Targaryen. Presents Daemon with his deep voice barely betrayed by his emotion, She comes here to get married, a true and noble adult woman. She comes to implore the blessing of the Gods, who is there to claim it?!

A quick glint of challenge appears in his eyes and I smile when I see it.

-I, Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, come here this night, before the Gods, to claim this Lady. Who is taking her to me?

-Me, Daemon serves my elbow stronger, Prince Daemon Targaryen who is the uncle and the father. My heart is helped by hearing it.

He lets me go slowly, placing me in front of my future husband, tears wet the corners of my eyes, and my body trembles slightly. I've never felt my heart beat so fast, and when his gaze looks into mine, that purple of ancient Valyria, I know he considers himself my father.

Cregan faces me, our eyes do not leave each other and our hearts undoubtedly beat in unison, he smiles at me and I faint, swallowing back my tears of joy. We turn to the officer of the ceremony who hides a smile under his beard.

- Princess Nymeria of House Targaryen, do you take this man? asks the man

-Yes, a warm smile stretches my lips, I take him for my man.

Cregan holds my hand with his, a happy, joyful smile, he holds it so hard that it warms at his touch.

-So Cregan Stark, take your wife Lady Nymeria now, of House Stark. Said the proud man looking at Cregan

My heart stopped at the contact of his hand on my cheek, the blush didn't even color my face, my gaze fixed on his, and his thumb slowly caressing the corner of my lips.

And this softness that I feel and which envelops me, his lips on mine, the desire to abandon my body in his tickles my stomach as I press again on his lips when he tries to escape.

I force myself to separate myself from him, a playful smile hangs on his face and I roll my eyes, gradually turning red at the few mocking laughs from those assembled, but what makes me laugh heartily is my uncle's grunt behind me who had advanced:

-A little more and I would have ripped it off of you.

Cregan stifles a laugh at Daemon's threatening tone which makes me giggle.

-I present to you, Lord Cregan Stark, and Lady Nymeria Stark!

The party takes place before my eyes, men and women dance, children play and eat and I enjoy seeing my sister and my cousins dancing with Talyssa.

Cregan's hand caresses my thigh hidden by my dress and I tense when his fingers dig into the fabric.

-Your intentions are not subtle my Lord husband. I scoff softly trying to shoo his hand away

Cregan laughed as he drank some of the wine specially sent by my uncle Corlys.

-Did I only want to be subtle, my dear wife. My intentions are clear.

-And shared, I whisper and he almost jumps, I want it as much as you my Lord.

Cregan's intense gaze falls on me and I heat up, if Daemon wasn't arguing with Corlys I think he would have pulled me back. I look out of the corner of my eye at Alicent who is playing with a ring on her finger, Ser Criston Cole is standing behind her making me feel nauseous. His gaze is fixed on Rhaenyra.

-I hope you won't cause a deadly fight tonight, Ser? I address provocatively to Criston Cole

The knight tenses, turning his tongue seven times before answering me, a sideways glance at me.

-I will Princess.

-What ? I push a little more, You will cause death this evening to be pardoned…

-Nymeria. Cregan whispers to calm me down

-Princess. Alicent hisses

Ser Criston Cole swallows again under my attack but does not respond, giving me a murderous look which undoubtedly attracts Daemon's attention.

I confront him without fear, remembering what he is and what I am. Ser Erryck should be here, but he is with the Queen's children. And a murderer replaces him.

-I will retire to my rooms, Alicent informs, my congratulations again, my Lord, my Lady.

Cregan gets up, but I sit there glaring at Alicent, she waits for me to get up then sighs, turning away from me when she realizes I won't move. She finally leaves the room.

-Was it necessary? Cregan asks, taking my hand.

-She deserves all my contempt, I respond, rolling my eyes, I despise this good woman.

Cregan chuckles as he plays with my ringed fingers, I didn't bring a lot of jewelry with me, but I'll always have my rings.

-I don't think I'll ever get used to it, I raise an eyebrow, your Dragon character. He explains

The fire crackles in the fireplace, the room is a little warm, my gaze is drawn to the eyes, the purple in my eyes must shine. I hold the dressing gown around me, sewn by Sara in the colors of House Stark. My feet tap the ground frantically, my excitement mixing with my fear.

The door opens and closes, its noise doesn't distract me, but the hand that lifts my chin makes my heart race.

-You are beautiful Nymeria, he caresses my grayed white hair, I don't deserve you.

-Oh husband. I whisper in response

I find a way to lay him on the bed, my hand on his chest as I climb on top of him, my legs surrounding his hips, one of his hands on my hip, the other on my cheek.

-I am yours Cregan, entirely yours.

My face leans toward his, our noses touch, and my hair forms a curtain around us. He smiles back, his chest rising and falling against mine. “Ride him, like a Dragon” Daemon had told me earlier, I blushed

But I don't blush with shyness when our lips meet, I sigh with excitement rolling my hips against him as his hand squeezes my neck.

Our sighs and heavy breathing fill the room, my little clothes become bulky, embarrassing, wet. My lips are kissed by his while my hips press quickly against his member which hardens at his contact.

-Nymeria, princess… Moans Cregan as I stand up

The nightgown falls on my shoulders, my breasts poking out into view, my body straightened I ride him like I ride my dragon, his hands on my hips to help me. I feel this heat rising and playing in my body, it burns and transcends, it makes me drunk on him.

-Cregan… I moan, closing my eyes

-No, darling, look at me.

My hips lift as he joins me and my legs tremble at the feeling of fire in my veins. I am trapped in a burning sensation demanding to be released. Little cries escape me as I claw at Cregan's chest, our noises hitting the walls of the room, our breaths in symbiosis.

The knot in my stomach that holds the dam of heat tenses again and again and I cry out when it breaks, my body shaking completely as Cregan holds me in his arms caressing the back of my neck.

-Cregan, oh shit…

My husband curses and grunts, slowly slowing his hips before stopping and catching his breath.

-Everything is fine. He whispers against my ear

-Hm, I'm taking a little breath, yes.

As soon as I respond positively, Cregan turns us so that my back ends up on the mattress, him above me, his hand caressing my cheek, looking amazed.

-I must say that I did not expect that woman, I am pleasantly surprised.

I blush at his playful and completely indecent tone, which makes him laugh loudly. Cregan stands up, his gaze fixed on mine as he takes off the simple clothes he had on him, I don't have time to look between his legs because he is already helping me get rid of my little clothes and the nightgown, I grimace when I feel the wet fabric.

-Is this normal? I ask perplexed watching him put the clothes down.

-Yes, my wife, that shows how much you desire me. He explain to me

-Then I want you very much. I said laughing a little embarrassed

A charming smile appears on her face, my eyes leave the smile to look between her legs and I immediately close my eyes. How can this even fit into me? This defies the science of my works.

-Look at me Nymeria.

I open my eyes with difficulty, losing my footing when Cregan lies on top of me and I feel his penis stretched against my thigh, it's soft and hard, I want to touch it and discuss it, but my breath takes flight when his fingers come to caress a sensitive part between my labia.

-You're so wet, he moaned, pinching my pearl, what do you want, Nymeria?

I can barely breathe, little moans and mewls leaving my lips trying to form a sentence, my hips rolling against his hand the more he strokes me.

-Woman, he stops his movements and looks into my eyes, I need you.

I swallow, I need him too, need him inside me. Need to belong to him. So I grab the back of his neck bringing his lips to mine, the kiss is less urgent, it is more tender, slower and languorous. It represents warm and sincere love.

-I need you, I moan against his lips, I need you husband.

With a low growl, Cregan raises himself up, his lips still connected to mine, his hand slips between our two bodies, and I feel something soft caressing my penis, it was undoubtedly his.

-I have to warn you, princess, it will probably hurt. Whine my husband while positioning himself

-I'm not afraid, I answer, still doubting a little, just keep kissing me.

His lips took me elsewhere, as he fussed between us. They play, peck and suck as I feel the first pressure between my legs, my breath catches. Cregan tenses above me with an almost hurtful growl.

He pushes his forehead against mine a little more, the sire pearling on his face, tense features biting his lip. He is perfect. I run a hand through his hair, breathing through my nose as the pain intensifies.

-Maybe, I'm holding back a little sob, should we go straight away?

-I don't want to hurt you…

I caress his neck, his hair, encouraging him to go, after a deep breath and a tender look Cregan asks:

-Are you sure ?

-Yes…

A soundless cry leaves my mouth, lips open and wide-eyed I hold Cregan against me, pain radiating throughout my body. It was sudden and fast, I feel him all inside me, stretching me, and he doesn't move.

We stay there for an indefinite time without moving, he kisses my tear-wet cheeks, my forehead, my lips, caressing my back and my arms. And then over time, the pain fades, leaving me with discomfort.

-You can… move.

-Nyme…

-Move, please. I moan while kissing him

Cregan doesn't protest, I feel his hips move in a circle, the discomfort diminishes a little in the face of the movement the strange sensation of burning and heat rises in my stomach.

-Your gaze in mine. Moaned Cregan

And my gaze doesn't leave his, he holds my hip not completely coming out of me before returning, I jump at the sensation, the knot in my stomach tensing, I share his moans and sighs, my embarrassment is present but in the background, I'm obsessed with him.

His pace accelerates and his chest trembles against my hand, my hips find their balance and accompany his hip rolls making us moan out loud. I feel it, this fire that burns my veins is ready to knock me down again, I cling to Cregan with pleasure in his voice.

-Oh woman, he moaned, your eyes, your purple, by the Gods!

I claw at her back as I feel my point of no return, one of Cregan's hands passes between us and I see the stars as she plays with my pearl. Cregan's unmeasured breathing is a melody to my ears, and I feel myself cumming again.

-Cregan! I scream, Husband…

My stomach knots, contractions wrack my body and my head sinks into the pillow as I let myself be ravaged by the sensation of climax, Cregan moans at this, unrestrained, it becomes fast and uncontrolled.

-Woman, he whines, can I? Can I put a… child inside you.

-Oh yes…

-Fucking hell…

Cregan almost cried out, his cock reaching a depth that made my legs buckle, a warm sensation filling me and I moaned softly at the feeling of his seed. He is against me, full-length, his heart beating as fast as mine, his muscles trembling, a film of heat covering us.

-Thank you husband, I love you. I whisper with tears in my eyes

He stands up weakly, caressing my cheek, his gaze completely dilated. My heart pumps with love.

-It’s me who thanks you, I love you Nymeria.

#cregan x you #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #cregan stark #cregan fanfiction #alicent hightower #original female character #cregan smut #cregan x reader #romance #fanfiction fire and blood #original female character house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #leanor velaryon #laena velaryon #cregan x y/n #female character house of the dragon

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esther-dot · 3 months

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The poor thing in the road, it's eyes still glistening 17k by @eruherdiriel

Hooves are not what wake Jon in the middle of the night, pulse racing and hands clammy with sweat. It’s fire. Orange and angry, eating away at houses and shops and shacks in his dream. Even now that he is awake, Jon can still taste burnt flesh on the back of his tongue. The wounds from his brother’s mutiny and Drogon’s gouge, frozen only hours ago, burn white. War leaves everyone broken, Jon perhaps most of all. Sansa finds even peacetime requires letting go.

the sky is big enough 15k @hopetorun

The war is over, except all the ways it isn't, and Sansa isn't alone, except for all the ways she is.

O Voyagers 28k WIP

Jon’s eyes are fixed on the floor at her feet. To a stranger it might look like respect, the proper deference shown to a queen, but Sansa knows better. If he wished to look at her, he would. He has not forgiven me, she thinks, her heart a stone in her chest. He likely never will.

daughters and queens bleed alone 4k

They crown Sansa with a rope of twisted steel, two wolves arching across her brow in a delicate embrace. No stags upon this crown—no branching antlers, no gleaming manes, no blooming hearts of southern roses. No fire, no blood, no graceful sweep of scales and wings, or the silver bite of dragon’s teeth. The Queen in the North stands before them, and Winter has come.

old wounds 2k by @jonsaslove

Jon left King's Landing and never returned. Sansa became Queen in the North and weathered the storm. When they see each other again, there is not much left to say.

stories to tell our children 1k by @jonsaslove

“You said that Old Nan used to tell you stories so scary you couldn’t sleep for a fortnight! That was a baby story!” Duncan nods, agreeing with his sister. Her father interrupts. “Well, Old Nan was a very good story teller. She could tell you a story about fairies and princesses and make it seem terrifying with just her voice and a menacing stare.” Or; Jon and Sansa tell their children bedtime stories.

Where the Shadow Ends 245k (I'm sure y'all have read this one, but it is THE post canon fic, so it must be mentioned!)

For years Sansa has ruled the North, wisely, justly, capably--and utterly alone. Everyone tells her she needs an heir; all she wants is a family. But after everything she’s suffered, there’s only one man she trusts won’t use her for her claim. Only one she trusts with her body. Unfortunately, she trusts him in no other way--especially not with her heart. For years Jon’s hidden in the far north, choosing solitude over the people he loves, choosing self-exile as punishment rather than atoning. But then Tormund tires of his moping and drags Jon back to Winterfell where guilt and consequences and a tempting offer await him. accompanying gifset by @thewindsofwolves

We Set Fire in the Snow 7k by @framboise-fics

Three days was long enough for moments of tenderness, for soft touches and gentle murmurs alongside the violence of their passions, but it was not long enough to burn this fire between them down to ashes, to put out the flames, he thinks ruefully, bitterly, achingly, as he rides out and looks back at her standing on the ramparts as he remembered her, her hair a curtain of fire, her body rigid like she has been sculpted from ice. He will take that fire back North, to warm him through frigid nights, he thinks; to burn inside of him so that he shall never find any peace; and let her feel the same, he thinks, let him not be alone in his agony. If he loved her he should surely wish her peace, so does he love her? Or is this how a wicked man loves, painfully, cruelly, selfishly? Is he her punishment just as she is his?

An Affair in Stages 13k by @justadram (not tagged post canon but works as one which is interesting as the first chapter was posted way back in 2013!)

It begins with a proposition, but where it will end neither of them knows.

Please Speak Well of Me 17k

A queen isn’t supposed to cry. So she’s learned to turn her tears to frost before they ever reach her cheeks. “Sansa,” Jon says to her, and the ice within shifts, weakens. Brackish water begins to leak through the cracks. She can barely remember how to speak, and it doesn’t come as much of a comfort that he seems to be fumbling as well. Over the foolish moons, Sansa had imagined that, if the time came that Jon ever returned, the mere sight of him would unwind the tangles of conflict inside of her. There would be something in his eyes, something she had forgotten about his face, something that would remind her what was real and what was not between the two of them.

breathe me in, taste my words 2k

Much to her surprise, marriage has only made Sansa less of a lady, not more. She doesn’t mind terribly, but maybe that’s because Jon doesn’t either.

Stone by Stone 8k

Finally, her words came in a rush. “But I seem to have built my own wall. Stone by stone, little by little, after each of them disappointed me, hurt me. And now that they are dead, I sometimes fear I may die behind my wall that no one can can walk thru.”

fire in exile 2k by @princemills

The thoughts of the others he’d lost were too unpleasant, and the thoughts of those who survived made him want to keel over like a babe, knowing he’d left them behind. It wasn’t really a choice, but it didn’t stop him from pondering his choices. From King in the North to bending the knee to Daenerys to stabbing her with a dagger beneath white ash borne from burning flesh, he’s never made the correct choice, and now he’ll burn in hell for it. Or, as Westeros deems hell: he’ll freeze his balls off at the wall, or Tormund will cut them off. Whichever comes first. - a quick study of jon and the choices he makes in exile.

watch me run right back to you 16k

Three times Jon and Sansa almost kiss…and three times they actually do.

come out of hiding (i'm right here beside you) 36k @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

AU after 8.05. After the death of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow chooses to live beyond the Wall, while Sansa Stark, the newly-crowned Queen in the North, marries a Dornish prince. Three years later, when Jon finally gathers the courage to return to Winterfell, he finds that while many things have changed, one hasn't: he's still in love with Sansa. (Featuring widow!Sansa, contrite!Jon, and a cute baby.)

Homecoming 31k @theoriginalsuki

Halfway to him, she broke composure; she flew at him, an arrow from a bow, and he opened to receive her, lifting her, clutching her to the soft, neglected animal of his body. Sansa has one request of Jon, and then he can leave her forever: help her to find a husband.

Gifsets: Jonsa and Their Three Children by @kingbuckley , Together We Build Our Empire by @aureliacamargo, Future Jonsa with Children by @amandapeetshusband, In Which They Live a Long and Happy Life Together by @baelerion, To See Him Once Again by @theirwinterfell, Maybe We'll Meet Again by @thatmansplayinggalaga

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS

#jonsa #jonsa fic #post canon #dot fic list

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