Hotd X You - Tumblr Posts

✧Just a second more✧

{You and Alicent spend a cold morning in her bed}

!!sexual themes minors please go read something else!!

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Through a sleepy haze, Alicent seeks your warmth from underneath the covers, it’s a desperate need for your comfort, and you smile at the lovely sight of your wife, her brown curls spread across the cotton pillows her facial features are relaxed, and she’s so pretty underneath the early morning sun, it’s light dusting across her soft features as it peaks behind the curtains.

A sudden gust of wind seizes through the room as she immediately cuddles closer into your warmth, her arm slung over your hip, her face smushed against your chest, and she murmurs something incoherent.

“What was that, my love?” You whisper as she nuzzles her nose into your soft skin, your delicate fingers trace against her spine and you feel the goosebumps that arise from your gentle touch.

“It is cold” she whines, slowly coming out of her sleepy state, her lips grazing against your chest as her legs tangle themselves in yours trying to take whatever warmth she can from your body, you hum in contentment.

You’re taken by surprise when she starts pressing light kisses to your chest, traversing to your neck, “I love you my dear” she whispers, warm breath against your cheek, and you suddenly feel very flustered.

Your hand comes to cup her face gently brushing away a stray eyelash from her soft cheek, “I love you too sweetheart” you quietly express, and you can’t help the overwhelming desire to capture her supple lips in a loving kiss.

The action takes her by surprise at first before she pushes you against the bed, she leans over you before straddling your thighs, her hair falling around her face, you smile at just how beautiful your wife is and your hand reaches to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“You simply are a gift from the gods,” you say in awe of her beauty, and she rolls her eyes in jest a smile teetering on her lips.

“You are so sweet, my sweet girl” she smiles pressing kisses from the tip of your nose to your lips, her tongue hot against yours as she captures your moans in her mouth before pulling away with glossy red lips, “I think I know a way of warming up” she teases stealing another kiss from you once again.

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☾⋆AN/ My wife! I love her!

Scraped knees and warm baths

{Cregan Stark knows how to take care of his wife}

I’ve been wanting to write for him so bad, I just haven’t had the time to write for any hotd characters recently, anyway hope you enjoy!! 💕💕

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You hadn’t meant to stay out so long, just for a small walk, you told yourself however time seemed to slip away from you, as you took in the serenity of nature, how the packed snow crunched underneath your feet, or the soft joyous melodies of birds, the crips air filled your lungs and it felt refreshing, it was good to get out the castle.

However it came with its dangers, ice, and somewhere along your journey you had lost your footing, slipping with a gasp against the stony path your palms grazing against the ragged surface along with your knees, just your luck, you think standing back to your feet with a huff.

And while you take your calm stroll outside Winterfell castle walls, Cregan was losing his mind, going mad with worry as he searches for you frantically and you’re nowhere to be seen, your absence sends his mind spiralling with horrid thoughts.

“She can’t have gone far my lord, I’m sure she’ll return… eventually” Maybe it’s the lack of worry in his tone or the smug smirk that teeters on his lips that sends Cregans’ skin tingling with anger as he turns to the guard.

“Ser Duncan I suggest you go help the rest of the men prepare- no one sleeps until my wife is found” he snaps walking closer to him, “Do I make myself clear?” He asks, trying to bite back the concern that sits on his tongue.

“Of course, my lord” and with that Cregan walks over to the stables a crease haunting his brows as he racks his mind for where you could possibly be.

“Lord Stark! She’s been found!”

Cregan is quick to look over and sure enough there you are, an overwhelming feeling of relief washes over him as he looks at you, bright-eyed with a giant smile, your dress stained with mud and he runs over to you, wrapping your shoulders with one of his furs protecting you from the harsh northern winds.

“Silly girl” he murmurs, urging you into his arms tightly.

You can hear the unease that weaves through his tone and it nips at your heart making you feel a little guilty, "I'm sorry" you whisper.

he pulls away slightly, looking at you with gentle eyes before turning around, “Lyra prepare a hot bath,” he says and she nods curtly, turning on her heels.

You silently scold yourself for causing so much trouble as you look around at all the men and women gathering around, you didn’t realise you were gone for so long, his hand rests on the small of your back leading you back to your shared bedchambers.

“I almost had the whole north searching for you,” he tells you, his big hands cupping either side of your face and he just can’t bring himself to be mad at you, the way you smile so sweetly at him, “I reckon you’ll send me to an early grave my dear” he sighs pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His hands reach for yours, and you gasp as fingers brush against the graze on your palm, “What? What is it- what happened?” He panics, taking your hands and studying the abrasions that adorn your palms with concern.

“It’s nothing, Cregan,” you say pulling your hands away, and before you can dismiss his worries he’s already pulling up the fabric of your dress noticing the blood that stains your knees, along with the small cuts.

“How did you manage this?” He asks, guiding you to the steaming tub, his fingers make work with untying the lace of your dress, letting the sleeves fall down to your arms and he peppers gentle kisses to your shoulder.

You giggle at the memory, “I slipped on ice, it wasn’t too bad” You smile stepping out of the dress, and you're not too sure if you're trying to convince him or yourself, your hands grasping at his arms as he eases you into the bath, the warm water soothes the dull ache in your muscles.

His hand cups at the water pouring it over your skin, “Wasn’t too bad? Look at your knees my love” he says nodding over to your knees that are pulled to your chest, he leans to press gentle kisses to them careful of the cuts, “I’ll go get the Maesters to take a look at it, don’t want it getting infected” he presses a kiss to your forehead and he goes to stand but you're quick to stop him.

“Wait- stay for a second more” you whisper and his face softens, he doesn’t think he could ever say no to you.

He sits back down on the wooden stall, picking up the small jug, “Of course my dear” takes his forefinger resting it underneath your chin as he pushes your head up slightly before pouring the warm water over your hair.

He washes you gently, peppering occasional kisses to your wet skin, “Come on my dear let’s get you warm and something to eat” he says helping you out of the tub, the water now lukewarm, he dries you off with such loving eyes, helping you change into something comfortable.

You sit by the fire humming at the pleasant warmth that surrounds you like a blanket, “Thank you Lyra” Cregan smiles as she places a hot bowl of stew on the table along with bread before walking out of the room with a nod.

“Eat something, my dear, I’ll go get the Maesters,” he says, pressing a kiss against your temple.

“Thank you, Cregan” You look up at him as his thumb brushes against your cheek, his chest blooms with love and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

He looks at you with adoration in his eyes, “Of course, anything for you” and you swear your heart stops at his love, the lord Stark of Winterfell, how you owned his entire heart.

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My precious boy

{Aemond learns to love his son the hard way}

You can read part 1 here!💕

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They say you don’t truly love something until it’s gone, until the thought of never seeing them again is suddenly a possibility, Aemond woke up to an empty bed, and his heart dropped when you came bursting into your shared bedchambers.

The first thing he noticed was the tears that poured from your pained eyes, how shaken you were, and his mind spiralled with horrid thoughts as he immediately made his way towards you, taking your shaky body in his arms.

“What is it?— my love what happened?” He asks, as you gasp through sobs, you couldn’t speak, the words catching in your throat.

You shook your head frantically, hands grasping at your chest as you heave, “Aenys- my boy” you choke, a blocky feeling stifling your breaths as your trembling hands grasp at Aemonds shoulders.

His chest tightens at your broken sentence, and he wants to scream and demand answers but he sees the fear that swims within your eyes, so he takes a deep breath, “What happened?” He asks, his thumb wiping away your stray tears.

“He— he’s gone! He’s gone! I can’t find him Aemond— I can’t find him” You feel your knees buck underneath the weight of the situation, as your hands grasp around his arms trying to stabilise yourself.

He looks around at the room full of guards as he guides you to your shared bed, sitting you down before demanding they prepare for a search, he tells them no one is to eat unless his Son is found and they’re quick to leave the room, each one of them getting ready to look for the missing prince.

The sun is barely rising and already the entirety of the castle is awake, most were woken by your gut-wrenching screams and they’re quick to rush to see what the problem is.

“I will find him. If I have to burn Westeros to the ground I will find him” he tells you, although you can’t really comprehend his words, your mind fuzzy with panic, he can see the despair that hangs around you and it makes him feel hopeless.

Alicent walks into your bedchambers a hand against her chest, news travels fast in the castle, and by the look in her eyes you could tell she already knows what has happened, “My dear, we will find him” she says, hand on yours as you nod weakly.

She watches as her son frantically paces the expanse of the room, taking his sword with his brows knitted together in anger, Alicent walks over to him with a delicate hand on his shoulder, “Aemond, she needs you- stay with her” she says, and he can’t bare to look at your distressed eyes the fear that contorts your face, it hurts him too much.

“I can’t mother- she—“ he trails off, they both look over at you as you rock yourself gently, “I’m going to find him,” he says, with so much determination it leaves little room to doubt his words.

Hours upon hours have passed since this morning, and you haven’t eaten, the thought of it makes you feel queasy and your tears have subsided far too exhausted to bring yourself to cry anymore.

You walk around Aenys’ room, as you look at all of his paintings and books, and your heart shatters at the thought of never seeing him again, you’re so wrapped up with your own thoughts you don’t see your husband walk into the room.

It’s quiet in the room, a lot quieter than you’re used to, you look over at Aemond and you can see the tears that well up in his eye, “Have you eaten?” He asks, voice quiet and broken, he frowns as you shake your head with a small ‘no’, the sun is beginning to set.

“I can’t Aemond— I can’t- Please find my son” you sigh, gently holding one of his paintings, it’s of you and him, and you feel like you can’t breathe, Aemond looks down at the artwork, it’s breathtaking, and he can’t quite believe his boy, of seven, made that.

An overwhelming feeling of regret crashes against him, and he bends down to level with where you’re sitting, “I’m going to find him, my love, I promise you— I will find our son” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your hand reaches for his,

“He’s just a boy Aemond, he's so small he can’t protect himself— what if-“ He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, he can't even bare the thought.

“-Don’t, he’s smart,” he says, and your eyes look at his watching as he stands up, “Everyone is looking, my love and we won’t stop until he is found” he promises and you watch as he leaves the room with a solemn heart.

You spend the rest of the day beside Alicent as she tries her best to comfort you, her hand soothing your back as you both wait and wait for any news, the sun has set as you lose hope, and your mind hasn’t stopped reeling with horrifying thoughts.

Alicent asks for some food to be delivered to the room and you’re about to reject the offer yet again but Aemond comes rushing into the room, demanding for Maesters with Aenys in his arms, and you choke at the sight, gasping as you scramble to sit by your sons side as Aemond lays him on your bed.

“What happened?— Where was he? Is he going to be okay?” You panic watching as the Maesters quickly get to work.

“He was in the Dragon pit” Aemond sighs, catching his breath as he sits down beside you, his hand holding Aenys’ small one, as your fingers brush through his hair, you lean to press a kiss to his forehead focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest, and you cling onto the small amount of hope you have.

The moon hangs high casting its ominous light upon your shared bedchambers, and you watch Aemond light candles around the room as you still sit next to your youngest son.

“Rhaegar, pass me the cloth please my dear,” you ask watching as your oldest son of ten, as he wrings the cold water from the washcloth before handing it to you and you thank him softly before placing it on Aenys’ forehead.

“Will he be okay, Mother?” He whispers, looking down at his brother with saddened eyes and the sight makes Aemonds’ throat close up.

He walks over to you, looking down at his youngest son, “Yes, of course, he will, the blood of the dragon runs within him” he says, looking over at your exhausted face and it pains him deeply to see.

You nod with agreement, “He will be fine” you say, squeezing your husband's hand gently. He looks up at you with a gentle smile.

“Brella, get Rhaegar ready for bed and make sure he has eaten,” Aemond says, watching as the Maesters walk back into the room, and she nods curtly guiding him out the room after you kiss his cheek wishing him goodnight.

“Hold this under his nose, it should wake him,” Maester Orwyle says, gently handing you a small cup of crushed herbs the scent itches at the back of your throat, a second goes by and you watch, worry etched into your face, as your son stirs from his sleep, rubbing at his eyes.

And you sigh in relief as his eyes flutter open, gasping as you take your son in your arms crying with joy as you rock him gently, “Aenys, my precious boy, oh— my sweet sweet boy” you gasp, you pull away hands clasping either side of his face.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask, studying his face, and he nods, mumbling about how his head is hurting just a little.

Aemond tells Maester Orwyle and he’s quick to prepare some tea. Your husband shuffles to sit next to you bringing you both into his arms, his head resting against Aenys’ and he’s never felt so thankful in his life, his boy is okay.

Aemond smiles as his son snuggles closer to you both, his tiny arms trying their best to wrap around you both, and you laugh at his attempt.

You pull away slightly, “I’ll get you some tea for your head,” you say smoothing down his hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

You thank the Maesters' watching as they take their leave before walking over to the table and preparing the herbs for the tea, you feel Aemonds arms wrap around your waist as you turn to face him.

“Here let me do this, my love, you go eat something,” he says quietly, he can tell how tired you are, how exhaustion lingers in your eyes, and the last thing he wants is you burning yourself.

You nod, your thumb grazing over his cheek, “Thank you Aemond, thank you so much” you whisper leaning to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he rests his forehead against yours, and you both go quiet. You hear small giggles as you look over back at the bed, and you both smile at the sight of your son, book in lap as he reads away.

Aemond smiles at the familiar cover, it’s one of his personal favourites, and he comes to slowly realise that perhaps there is more to bond over his son with and he makes a silent vow to you and Aenys to do better by you both.

That night the castle rested calmly knowing the missing prince was found, and you and Aemond both slept very happily with your son between you both, snuggled and safe.

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Hi, would you write smut for hotd characters? I have a request but i'd like to make sure with you first :)))

Hiya lovely, I’m still getting used to writing like full blown smut if you know what I mean, but yeah you’re still more than welcome to send the request! <3 💕💕

Oh thats ok! The prompt doesnt really need a smut bit anyway so here goes: snowballfighting with cregan but after your ice incident (your prev cregan fic) he's worried about you running and slipping on ice. So he doesnt run and just lets you pelt him with snowballs, watching you laugh and have your fun. Cregan has this 'gods i'm so in love with her' look on his face 😂😂😂

Snowball fights and kisses

{Cregan and you take a break from Politics}

Aww, this is really cute!! Please I love him so much I think he would just be the sweetest to his lover!! 💕 {you can read part 1 here!}

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You feel awful watching Cregan go crazy with stress, lord after lord sending ravens in attempts to have an audience with the Lord of Winterfell, and you couldn’t do much instead you just watch as his problems keep building up.

“My dear, let me help— please, I could help with the smaller problems,” you tell him knowing full well he’d turn down your offer, but you ask anyway, you just felt so useless standing around doing nothing.

You watch as he shakes your head, “I am the lady of Winterfell, surely that gives me some authority to help” you tell him, and he puts his quill down looking over at you from where he was sitting motioning for you to come over.

“Yes you do, of course, you do— but as my lady, I don’t want you to make yourself sick with stress,” he says, looking up at you with loving eyes, he takes your hands pressing kisses against your healing palms.

Cregan has always been so caring when it came to you, even when he was first courting you he was nothing but gentle, a side of him you didn’t expect, and he made you feel so needed, the way he was always asking for your suggestions on things.

“Well then, at least take a break just for a little,” you say, his hands resting on your hips as your fingers thread through his hair, and he smiles at the feeling.

His chest blooms with adoration, “What would we do my love?” He asks, with genuine curiosity, he knows you’re always going off on your own little journeys, often causing him heart failure in the process but he endures it, anything to keep you happy.

“It’s a beautiful day outside don’t you think? Let’s go out for a walk— that way you can make sure I don’t slip again” You giggle thinking back at the memory, and he looks up at you with unimpressed eyes.

You watch as stands from his chair, stretching as he does, “I’m glad you find it funny dear” he says with a smile, the type you can’t control, “You almost killed me” he says, as he leans down to tie the lace on your boots.

You look down at him, “Yes, but I made it up to you didn’t I?” You tease, and you watch as a gentle red dust against his cheeks slightly at the memory of you by the fireplace.

He shakes his head with a chuckle, draping one of his furs around your shoulders before you both walk side by side making your way outside, and you both feel great, breathing in the fresh crisp air.

You look around at the sight, taking it in, the pure white blanket of snow that covers the ground, gentle snowflakes that fall from the pewter grey clouds, you notice how they collect in Cregan's hair, a storm was brewing you could feel it.

He watches with a smile as you walk slightly in front of him, looking around at the nature that surrounds you both, he watches attentively as you slip slightly on the icy path, and his chest tightens as you regain your balance.

“Please, be careful love, I don’t want another incident,” he says, a hand against your back as you both continue to walk, enjoying the crunch of the snow underneath your boot.

Cregan watches with confusion as you bend down, “Have your laces come undone?” He asks, your silence only confuses him further, and before he can say anything else a snowball comes flying at him, hitting him straight in the chest.

He chuckles at the boisterous laugh that erupts from you, how your eyes squint with joy as you double over clutching your stomach as you continue to launch snowballs at him.

He would run after you, chase you around the snowy landscape, but he recalls back to your incident, how your knees were bloodied and raw and the way your face contorted with pain as the Maesters applied ointment on the wounds, and he doesn’t want to ever see you in pain again.

So, he stands there trying to evade your attack, as he dodges some of them, enjoying the sound of your beautiful laugh, it’s a sound that he swears to the gods could fix all of his problems.

He watches as you pact the snow into a ball before throwing it at him, how the tiny snowflakes collect against the furs you’re wearing, and how they sit in your hair and he thinks you’re the most enchanting person in all of Westeros, you’ve completely captured his heart and soul.

“I win!” You giggle jogging over to where Cregan stands with a huge smile, ear to ear, and it warms him to see.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders bringing you closer to him, “Yes you do my love” he whispers pressing a loving kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He takes a moment to admire you, your beauty and flaws, you mean so much to him and Cregan knows he’d go to war for you.

“Gods I love you, so much,” he says, and you can’t help the fluttery feeling in your belly as you turn suddenly bashful under his loving gaze.

Your hands rest on either side of his face as you pull him down to you, pressing a meaningful kiss to his lips, his cold nose grazing against your skin, “As do I my love” you whisper, lips brushing against his, and you wonder what people would think if they ever seen this side to the lord of Winterfell.

“Come on, let's get you inside my beautiful wife,” he says guiding you back into the castle and to your shared bedchambers, and he thinks he might take breaks more often, then again, he’d do anything to see that wonderful smile of yours.

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Cold

{Cregan drops his duties for you when you fall sick}

Hope you enjoy lovelies! 💕

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The north was abysmally cold and once winter pushes through it only seems to get worse, when the sun is hidden beneath the shadowy grey clouds, and the wind rushes through the trees and the castle walls, it was only a matter of time until you would fall sick.

Bedbound is what Cregan told you as soon as the Maesters informed him about your illness, bedbound and not to move a muscle until the sickness was gone, but there were only so many books you could read before you go crazy.

You were wrapped up in furs, thick blankets and the fire was lit, surrounded by nothing but warmth, another thing Cregan had told the Maesters after you woke up practically shivering, and gods, you were so bored.

“Lady Stark please stay in bed” Lyra asks so politely that you almost feel a little bad, you only wanted to go for a walk, just to stretch your legs a little.

You shake your head, akin to a stubborn child, as you ready yourself, “Lyra I’ll be fine, all I want is to stretch, I won’t go too far and I’ll be back before Cregan returns” you tell her, voice hoarse and scratchy.

She looks at you very concerned, “I will be fine, I promise” You smile as you erupt into a coughing fit, your chest aching with every breath.

Lyra is quick making her way to your side, a gentle hand against your back as she urges you to sit back on the bed, “Please I insist lady Stark, you must rest” she panics a little, but you’d rather have to listen to lord Cerwyn’s boring rambling then go back to bed.

“I’m fine Lyra” she sighs giving up on your relentless fighting, you were stubborn and she had learnt that the hard way, she nods curtly before bidding you farewell and Lyra makes her way straight to Cregan.

Cregan had an inkling that you wouldn’t listen to his nor the Maesters words, he knew you far too well that it was hard to really hide anything from him, and his suspicion was only proven correct when Lyra came bursting through the doors, disrupting one of the lords, as she nervously rambles about how you're up and out of bed.

You don’t even get halfway down the hallway of the freezing castle before you’re stopped by your husband, “What exactly are you doing out of bed” You tense up at the sound of his stern voice, a smile teetering on your lips at the slightest playful hint in his tone.

You turn around with a sheepish smile, he wasn’t meant to be here yet, “You’re supposed to be attending to your duties, lord Stark” you tell him, a smirk playing on your lips, trying to ignore the soreness that itches at the back of your throat.

“And you’re supposed to be in bed, resting,” he says, wincing at the croaky chuckle that falls from your lips, he walks over to you with a gentle hand on the small of your back as he guides you back to your shared bedchambers.

You don’t fight him on the matter figuring you would just lose anyway, because If there was anyone that could outdo your stubbornness it was definitely your husband, especially when the matter involves you.

But that doesn’t stop you from complaining, “My dear, I feel fine” you sigh, yet again overtaken by your feverish cough, the burning in the back of your throat causes tears to well up in your eyes.

Cregan’s heart breaks at the sight, how your shoulders shake, and gods, the sound of your painful cough near enough brings him to tears, he hates seeing you in pain, hates that there’s nothing he can do about it.

“My sweet girl, please sit” he says, noticing the way you shiver slightly as a gust of wind whistles through the castle, you groan slightly as you climb back into bed, “Good girl” he teases, chuckling as you roll your eyes.

He fluffs up the pillows before you lay against them as he pulls the blankets back up to your shoulders, “I’m starting to hate this bed” you mumble, you’re tired of being ill.

“I know, but the more you rest-“ he glances over at the cup of herbal tea that’s now gone cold, his eyebrows knitting together, “-and actually drink the tea the Maesters give you, the quicker you will get better” he presses a kiss to your warm forehead, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You smile up at him, “I’m sure the other Lords aren’t too pleased about you leaving them to fuss over your sick wife” You giggle as he takes a seat beside the bed.

His face softens, “They can wait, you, my love, are the most important person to me— you come first” he smiles, pressing another kiss to your temple, and his thumb gently soothes your cheek and you can’t help but lean into his gentle touch.

Your limbs are overcome with a sudden dull ache and everything just seems to hurt, your hand reaches for his and your fingers entwine, “It hurts so bad” you whisper, your eyes closing with pain and you try so hard to ignore the stinging sensation that scratches at the back of your throat.

“Where sweet girl?” Cregan asks, taking your hand up to his mouth as he presses gentle kisses to your knuckles.

“Everywhere” You squeeze his hand slightly, and he looks down at you with worry laced in his eyes.

He looks over at Lyra who’s preparing tea, just like the Maesters told her, she passes the cup to Cregan with a nod, “Here my love, sit up” he prompts and you groan slightly as you do, he hands you the warm cup and you grimace slightly at the taste as the sharp liquid sits against your tongue.

His hand finds yours squeezing them with encouragement, “There you go” he smiles, taking the cup from your hands as you lay back down, nuzzling against your pillows, sleep already hanging heavy over you.

“Can you stay, tell me about one of your great adventures” You give him a weak giggle as he nods clearing his throat before he recalls the one time, with Jacaerys, about how he taught him how to shoot with a bow and arrow.

He doesn’t leave your side, not until you’re fast asleep, and he prays to the gods that you get better soon.

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A cold heart

{After distancing yourself from Cregan the truth finally comes out}

Hope you enjoy as always lovelies! 💕

CW// reader is pregnant

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Cregan grew up in the North, he became acclimatised to the cold weather as he grew, but yet he’s never felt so cold then he does right now in your shared bedchambers, despite the warmth of the fire. It’s a type of feeling that completely renders him numb. An aching feeling that sits heavy against his chest, it’s almost as if he can’t breathe.

He watches you climb into bed slipping underneath the many furs. His heart freezes as the realisation slowly sets in, he’s in for another night of silence, and like every other night for the past few weeks you’ll sleep as far away as possible, shrugging off his touch.

It's not that you didn't want him to touch you, quite the opposite actually. You just couldn't risk his wandering hands grazing against your tiny bump, you wouldn't let him find out, not that way.

He doesn’t think he can go another night of isolation. So he reaches out to you in hopes you’ll reopen your caged heart to him once again, just as you did all those moons ago when he confessed his feelings to you.

“Love, will you please tell me what’s bothering you? I can’t stand this silence” he says, a gentle hand against your shoulder and he winces when he feels you go rigid under his palm.

He retreats his hand not wanting to be the cause of your discomfort. You don’t look at him, far too afraid of the pain that will stain his face.

It’s not that you don’t want to tell him, in all honesty, you so desperately wanted to share the news, but you’ve heard so my awful stories from other ladies about their husbands seeking pleasure through other means, how they are completely abandoned by them simply because they were ‘undesirable’ it hurt to hear. You couldn’t imagine going through that.

So maybe that’s why you push Cregan away, because if you do it first it’ll hurt less when does inevitably happen.

“Nothing is wrong Cregan, I’m tired,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of comfort.

He likes to think that he is a calm man, never quick to anger but right now in this moment, anger is quick to warm his heart.

“Do not lie to me” he says, tone firm. You have only ever heard that when some lord made the mistake of insulting you in front of him, you remember thinking how you never wanted to be on the receiving end of that, yet here you are.

You sigh, biting back the tears that sting the back of your throat. “I just want to sleep Cregan” you whisper and he doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers.

You hear him let out a deep breath, then the bed shifts and he’s getting ready. The sudden change in the atmosphere makes you sit up, bringing the furs up with you, protecting yourself from the bitter cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he laces up his boots, his eyes flicker to yours for a moment but they don’t linger long.

“I have work to do. Don’t wait up for me” he tells you and before you even have time to try and even think of what to say he’s gone.

You don’t bother stopping the tears that fall so effortlessly from your eyes. A regretful sob broke through your lips as you feel yourself engulfed by unwavering guilt, the type that pinches at your heart leaving bruises in its wake.

You can’t find solace in sleep, not without Cregan beside you. So you wait, and wait a book in your lap but you pay it no mind as your eyes stay fixed on the door.

You questioned whether or not he had already found another woman. Filthy thoughts tainting your mind, and you know it’s silly. Cregan would never break your trust or heart like that, never.

The hours seem to drag, and you contemplate if you should go out and find him yourself to say your sorries and give him a well-earned explanation, but the Maesters told you rest is the best thing for the babe.

Then the heavy wooden door opens, and there he is. “I told you not to wait up,” he says, and you watch him intently as he takes off his furs and leather.

You want to speak but you haven’t the slightest idea of where to even begin, there are so many words that rattle around in your brain but none of them seem good enough.

He looks over at you, and if it weren’t for the anger that still tingles his skin he would’ve felt sorry for the way you seemed to go in on yourself.

“Have I done something? Offended you somehow?— hurt you?” He wonders, wincing at the way his voice trembles, and the sound brings tears to your eyes.

You shake your head, trying to string a sentence together but the only thing that comes out is a pitiful sob. Emotions collide in your chest.

“Then what is it y/n? Why are you treating me as if I’m a stranger?” He asks, sitting at the end of the bed.

You study the scars that litter his chest, the one that travels across his ribcage that you love to you trace with gentle fingers, and you yearn to be held by him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, your hand splayed against your collarbones. You can’t stop the cries that escape you. You shuffle down to where he’s sitting, a careful hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry Cregan- I can explain” you gasp.

His slightly calloused hand soothes the expanse of your back, he hates seeing you so upset. The painful expression that paints your face, how your eyebrows furrow together. He promised himself that he’d do anything in his power to prevent this.

He wants to be mad, but he can't not when your shoulders shake as you try to stifle your cries behind a shaky hand.

“Love, breathe,” he says, taking your hand in his as he guides you through deep breaths. He’s always been so good at that.

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently and you sigh at the feeling of his beard against your skin.

“Cregan, I-” you look up at him as he urges you to continue, worry laced through his eyes, “I am with child” you whisper, your eyes flickering down to where your hands lay against his lap entwined with his own.

“The ladies have said- told stories of how their bodies change, how they no longer look the same as before- their husbands, they-” you sob, not being able to finish the sentence, a desperate need to get him to understand. And he does, he knows what you’re trying to say, and it hurts him beyond words that you would ever even consider the possibility.

His hands gently cup your tearful face, and he gives you the most endearing look he could muster. “My precious wife” he starts, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are the light of my life, my heart is yours entirely,” he tells you, a sense of relief washing over him as you fling yourself into his arms.

It was silly of you to doubt his love, especially for you. “I know- I’m sorry,” you tell him, kissing his shoulder.

“How long have you known?” He asks, his hands grasping at your hips.

“I had a suspicion for a while” you confess, bringing his hands to your belly. You let out a breathy giggle at the way his eyes light up with excitement as his hand soothe the expanse of your stomach.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before wiping away the stray tears that fall from your lashes, “A pup of our own eh?” He says, a teasing look flashing through his eyes as he urges you to lay against the pillows.

His hand dips underneath your nightdress grazing along your thigh travelling to rest at the curve of your stomach, your bump was barely there but yet he knows the difference. He smiles at you softly, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch.

“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, and our little one” he says, love bleeding into his tone as he peppers your neck with kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair as you urge him closer to you, you had missed him more than you thought.

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Forever in my heart

{Just a cute moment between you, Cregan and your son}

I love him sm!! Hope you enjoy! 🤭💕

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Cregan's heart blooms with love, warmth expanding within his chest as he watches you with soft eyes. You’re sitting on the bed, furs beneath you with your legs crisscrossed as you look down at your son, Brandon Stark, his arms stretched out as he lays before you, his tiny hands grabbing at nothing as he gurgles up at you.

There’s a look in your eyes that has Cregan feeling all choked up, he isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but it’s full of love and amazement as if you couldn’t quite believe your child was here. He watches as the back of your finger brushes gently across his cheeks, smiling when he blabbers at you.

“How is he?” He whispers, carefully shutting the door to your shared bedchambers so as to not disturb his son. You beam up at Cregan, a giant smile splays across your lips, and even despite your exhausted expression he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met.

You pat the space next to you happily, urging him to sit next to you, and he gladly does. “He’s perfect,” you say, your tone hushed. You smile as you feel his big hand soothing your lower back with a pressure that has you sighing with pleasure.

“He is, just like his mother,” he says, gently kissing your hairline. He looks down at his son, chuckling at the way he kicks his legs up in the air, “Strong too”

He admires your strength, and how you still insist on caring for your son by yourself through everything. It warms him immensely to know you care so deeply, then again, he didn’t expect anything else from you.

You turn to him with a grateful smile, your fingers running along his stubbled jaw before you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Just like his father” you say, leaning your head against his shoulder. You watch as his thumb gently smoothes over Brandon's soft cheek, giggling when your son smiles, his eyes wide and bright, full of wonder.

The sight has your heart clenching in your ribcage, how Cregan is so gentle, the love that flashes through his eyes as your son's little hand wraps around Cregan’s fingers.

Then he gurgles something that sounds a lot like ‘mama’ but it’s not quite correct, and you grab at your husband’s hand with an excited gasp. He chuckles at the shock that takes over your soft expression.

“Can you say, Mama?” You giggle, fingers gently tickling his sides as Brandon lets out an excited squeal, and the sudden noise has Cregan chuckling.

You try to get him to say it five more times but to no avail, as he only lets out incoherent gurgles, blowing raspberries before laughing, kicking his legs wildly as he does. It causes a warmth to spread across your chest and it feels like you’re melting.

“So close lovely, so close” Cregan teases, nudging your shoulder ever so gently. He looks down at Brandon, pushing back the dark tuff of hair that curls over his forehead.

Cregan feels his heart beam as his son looks over at him, his dark brown eyes glistening under the glow of the fire and he mumbles something that sounds dangerously close to ‘papa’

“Traitor” you gasp with a chuckle, looking down at your son with soft eyes. Cregan takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he smiles.

“Thank you” he whispers, gaining your attention, “Thank you for everything,” you notice the tears that start to build up in his eyes, his tone so soft that it leaves you breathless.

You wiggle your hand from his to cup his jaw, thumb grazing against the stubble, as he looks at you with those pretty eyes of his, “I love you, so much” he looks down at his son, his hand gently holding his tiny one, “Both of you” and you swear, you could live forever in this quiet moment.

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Unwavering desire

{Cregan doesn’t do well with out your touch, duties be damned}

Kinda nervous but I hope you enjoy lovelies!! 💕

!18!

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Cregan is undoubtedly in love with you, heart, body and soul. He loves how sweet you are, your gentle words and touches that have him completely enthralled and at your beckoning call. He knows for a fact that there’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do for you.

He wakes before the sun and he takes advantage of the serenity that blankets the cold castle. He props himself up on his elbow as he watches you with gentle eyes, noticing the way your face is relaxed with sleep, how every now and again you nuzzle yourself within the soft pillows.

He brushes your cheek with the back of his finger, tucking your hair behind your ear before leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He chuckles at the way you inch yourself closer to him in a search for warmth, your hand brushing against his stomach as it rests on his waist.

There’s a small, almost satisfied, smile that splays across your lips once you find his warmth, and the sight has his heart racing.

You press your face to his chest, “Good morning my love” you mumble, smiling against him as his hands soothe the expanse of your back, urging you close to him.

He leans down to press a kiss to your hairline letting his lips linger for a moment before speaking, “Good morning dear” he smiles, his breath hitching ever so softly as your hand runs over his stomach.

“How long have you been awake for?” You ask, sleep still lacing with your soft tone. Your fingers brush through his hair.

“Not long,” he tells you, his hands pushing the fabric of your night dress up and you catch on rather quickly as to what he’s doing, your fingers wrapping around his wrist as you stop his movements.

You look over at the window, noticing the sun as it peaks over the horizon, “Cregan, we don’t have time you’ve got a busy day ahead” you remind him, and lets out a long deep sigh, frustration tingling at his skin.

He can’t, he can’t go another day without feeling you, without having you completely come undone before him, “I’m finding it very hard to care lovely” he says, his fingers playing with the hem of your silk dress.

He smirks at the way your breath hitches as the tips of his fingers graze against your soft skin, trailing along your thigh.

“You need me as I need you dear” he whispers, lips grazing against your ear and he notices the way you shudder at the feather-light touch as he traces patterns into your inner thigh, “I can tell” he smiles into your neck as he peppers your skin with warm open-mouthed kisses, enjoying the way you gasp.

You couldn’t deny it, the tightening feeling in your stomach conjured from the desperate need of your husband's touch spoke for itself, “Tell me, my beautiful wife. Tell me what you want” his lips graze against your jaw. Cregan would give you anything you so desire if you asked, he spoiled you.

“Just you, I want you- please” you whisper, and you let the morning lust consume you without a care in the world because Cregan made it hard to care, especially with the way his calloused hands traverse your warm body, squeezing at your hips as he sits himself between your legs.

He notices the way your eager hands immediately go towards his hardening cock, a look of pure desperation flickers through your eyes and he stops you, fingers wrapping around your wrist, “Let me savour you first hm?” He smiles at the way you let out a whine, head falling back against the pillows with a huff.

Cregan chuckles as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, small loving pecks that soon turn into something much needier, his tongue hot against yours as he chases after your warmth. “Such an impatient little thing” he mumbles against you.

He brings a hand to run up your thigh, spreading your legs wider and he hums with satisfaction at the sight of your bare cunt, slick with your pleasure and there’s a feeling of pride that bursts through his chest, he’s barely even touched you and you’re already so worked up.

“Mhm, Cregan please” your hips writhe in anticipation, as his hand inches closer, and you gasp. Hands grasping at his shoulder as his fingers trail along your wet slit.

His fingers rub firm circles into your clit as he presses kisses against your collarbones, “I’ve been mistreating you, forgive me dove” he whispers, the slightly rough skin of his fingertips against your clit elicits a moan from your supple lips, a sound so delicious that it has Cregan's mind spinning.

You mumble incoherent words, a whiny mess as he pushes a finger into you watching the way your arch into his touch, you blabber for more, to be ‘filled up’ and Cregan couldn’t ever deny you, not when you sound so needy.

So he pushes a second finger into your wetness, curling them so deeply as his thumb teases your clit. The sound of your soaked cunt only causes him to fuck you harder with his fingers. “Cregan- ah! m’so close- please” you moan, arching into his touch as your hands clutch at the furs that layer beneath you, your stomach tightening.

“Not yet lovely, I want to feel you” and just like that the growing knot that tightens in your stomach unravels as he moves his hand away from you, a feeling so disappointing it brings tears to your eyes.

He kisses your tears away, as your hand dips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his painfully hard cock. He seethes as you squeeze it gently your thumb grazes against his leaking tip. “Take me Cregan- I need you” You look up at him as he lines himself up with you, his hand holding yours as he pushes himself into your wetness.

You squeeze his hand, “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, grunting as his pelvis presses against yours, hips meeting. You whine out in pleasure at how he fills you up, and you feel complete.

“You- you can move, oh gods, please move” you beg, your eyes shut as he sets a pace, your hips moving with his as you two become one. A feeling so intense that it leaves you senseless, you can’t think of anything but Cregan, he surrounds you completely.

His lips are pressed against yours, a sweet loving kiss, a feeling only saved for you. “Take me so well my love, fuck- so tight” he groans as you tighten around him, your legs wrapped around his hips, locking him in place as he continues to fuck you.

He can tell you’re close yet again, the way you gasp, how your thighs shake. “Let go for me dove,” he tells you, his finger circling your clit.

“Ah! Cregan-” The tightness in your stomach finally snaps as you cum, gushing around his length as he pushes further into you, the feeling soon brings him to completion with a deep groan, and the warm feeling has your skin tingling with pleasure.

He collapses on top of you with a slight grunt, the weight of him grounds you as your hand soothes against his back, trailing the scars that litter his skin.

“Duties be damned, I want to spend the day with you” he mumbles against your skin as you both slowly come down from your highs and you can’t help but chuckle at his words, “I’m serious” he quips.

You turn your head to press a kiss to his cheek, “There are people counting on you Cregan” you remind him softly smiling at the way he peppers your shoulder with soft kisses.

“What about you hm? You’re much more important to me” he whispers, and there’s something about his tone that makes your chest ache.

“I love you, Cregan, more than anything. I’ll be fine, promise” you tell him, he looks up at you with gentle eyes and you wonder how you got so lucky.

“I love you too my dear” he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “At least let us take a bath together before I have to leave” he says, as he pulls out of you seething slightly at the sensation. You sit up wrapping yourself in a robe.

“I would love nothing more,” you tell him, as he presses a kiss to your hairline, letting his lips linger for a second more before preparing a bath for both of you.

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HI, i love your work about the marauders and hotd and i was wondering if u would write cregan stark fluff with jealous reader but if u don't want to its okay. HAVE A GREAT DAY

-Cregan Stark x reader

{House Ryswell seeks an audience with Cregan Stark, and their daughter seems to take quite a liking to him}

I got extremely carried away with this, I hope you enjoy lovelies! 💕

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It's strange how time can seem so slow when your mood has been soured by something so silly, something that you're sure you have made up in your own mind, to defend the feeling of this unadulterated jealousy that slithers its way at your heart tugging on it every so often.

Foolish, you think, although you're not quite sure what exactly it is about this whole situation you find, foolish. Is it the way, Cregan smiles at the ever-beautiful Lady Darla of house Rsywell? or is it because your mind has convinced you that Cregan would break your trust like that? maybe, it's her ever thinking she stood a chance with your husband. Whatever it might be it's sure is foolish.

But it's real nonetheless, horrible and very real. The jealousy that bubbles deep within you only fuels the doubts that plague your mind, and those same thoughts conjure another dreadful feeling, something that pinches at your heart as you watch Lady Ryswell place a dainty hand on Cregan's arm, insecurity it finds an unwelcome home within your chest.

Despite sitting so close to Cregan, you still feel miles away, watching him converse, lost, within his own world with the Lady next to him. You feel ignored and as you glance around the room you're sure that everyone else sees it too, you've been pushed aside like some sickly wife that's nearing her time.

It's only when you hear Cregan's warm chuckle do you look over to the pair once again, her hand sits higher up on his arm, there's something about the sight that breaks you. As if it couldn't get any worse Drala turns to you with a smile that makes you sick to your stomach, warm and inviting.

"Your Husband is so charming Lady Stark" she giggles, her hand still against his arm, and you swear she squeezes it ever so softly.

Slamming your cup down against the wooden table, with more vigour than you had meant, you clear your throat, "Yes he is- charmed me right into marriage" It gets a laugh or two from the others is House Ryswell.

Drala's mother even leans to you whispering a humoured, "My husband could learn a thing or two" You watch as she glances over at him with a teary smile, he seemed quite caught up with gawking at the maids, "That man knows nothing of charm" she spits before leaning back into her chair.

Cregan's hand rests against your thigh, and for a second, your racing mind seems to calm down, it's as if you can finally breathe, and then he pulls away going back to what must be a riveting conversation with Darla. You've had enough of this torture, no longer being able to bare it you call for Lyra, keeping a hushed tone as she bends down to you slightly.

"I think I am ready to retire for tonight," you tell her through gritted teeth, trying to keep the barrage of emotions at bay, she gives you an understanding nod.

"Of course M'lady " She smiles softly as she hurries off to your bedchambers preparing a change of clothes for your arrival.

You stand keeping a strict posture, it's only now do you feel as if you finally have caught Cregan's attention. "Forgive me, but I think I shall call it a night" You bite back the tears that collect along your lash line nibbling your cheek.

"Aw already? Just when I thought our conversation was bearing good fruit" she whines, her voice going straight through you just like nails on a chalkboard, she pouts, a spoiled brat who knows no discipline.

"Oh please, don't feel inclined to stop on my behalf" You smile with a curt bow before turning your heel and leaving, ignoring the way Cregan calls for you, an advance he must've given up on quite quickly as Darla calls for more drinks practically begging your husband to stay, you don't hear the rest of the conversation too focused on trying to calm your breathing.

"Lady Stark" Lyra bows softly as you walk into your bedchambers, shutting the heavy wooden door behind you with an exasperated sigh. "I have prepared you some tea m'lady," she says with a gentle tone as you sit down in front of your vanity. She makes starts to unclasp your necklace.

"Thank you Lyra, you're far to-" and before you can finish your sentence the door opens with a low groan. You don't bother turning around already knowing who it is.

"Lyra, could you give us a minute" Cregan huffs, sounding very unamused as he walks into the candle-lit room.

"Of course m'lord," she says, bowing as she rushes out of the room, and it's then the silence hits, smothering the room with its thick presence that you're sure it could snuff out the flames of the various candles.

You look at him through the reflection of the mirror as he sits down on the fur-covered sofa, running a hand through his hair before finally glancing over at you, there's something in his eyes that makes you feel... small, you have always said you would hate to be on the receiving end of Cregan's anger, that any man to challenge him would be a fool.

"Would you like to explain to me what exactly just happened?" he asks, frustration seeping into his tone and your answer or rather lack thereof only fuels it further. "Do you find pleasure in ignoring me?" he huffs, giving you a rather annoyed look.

And as childish as it might seem, you were. "Yes, well now you know how it feels, don't you?" you mumble, untying the pins in your hair before taking off your rings.

"What?" he questions watching in slight shock as you stand up, the chair behind you drags along the floor with a shriek.

"Tell me, Cregan, do you think our marriage is a farce?" you ask turning to face him with tears in your eyes, tears that you try so hard to hold back, "Do you take enjoyment out of making a mockery of our marriage?" your hands shake with the sudden adrenaline as you point at him, your finger nudging his should as rage pinches at your skin, he looks up at you with hurt in his eyes and for a minute you feel inclined to apologise.

He stands up, trying to reach for your hands but you don't let him as you pull away from his touch, he accepts defeat with a heavy heart, the sight of your tearful face makes his stomach drop.

"A farce? What in the seven hells are you on about women?" the hurt that sits in his chest slowly churns into something much more as it wraps around his heart squeezing it with force.

"Do not play ignorant with me Cregan" You speak through gritted teeth as he inches closer to you, "You sat there the entire night ignoring me whilst you entertained that naive girl" You feel your knees buckle under the stress of it all as you fall back onto the bed with a soft bounce.

"I was merely trying to be a good host" his voice is so gentle, calm that it makes you angrier.

"Being a good host does not substitute you pushing me aside like some sick dog as you fool around with her!- the entire night." you huff biting the inside of your lip.

"You're jealous?" he asks in almost disbelief.

"What?- Jealous I'm-" You can't deny it, you were, you were jealous of the pretty Ryswell girl and how she seemed to have captured Cregan's attention.

"You are missing my point entirely," you whisper leaning into him as he sits down on the bed next to you.

"I'm sorry- you're right, I should've paid more attention to you," he says, wiping away the tears that fall from your eyes, "I meant no harm by it, I swear." he presses a gentle kiss to your hairline.

"It was embarrassing Cregan, the way they all looked at me with pity in their eyes. I am your wife." you sigh, the events of tonight wearing down on you more than you thought, and now the fabric of your dress felt all too tight and itchy.

"Forgive me my love- my beautiful wife" he says pressing another kiss to your shoulder as he helps you up from the bed.

"You can get Lyra to help me if you want to go back to entertaining our guests" you whisper, testing him a little as you sneak a glance his way.

"There are no guests to entertain sweetheart, I called it off as soon as you left," he mumbles against your neck as he continues to peppers soft kisses to your warming skin.

He undoes the lace of your dress, pulling at the fabric as it loosens around your shoulders, coming undone to reveal your back, his gentle fingers trailing along your spine as his soft lips traverse to your neck.

"I never meant to hurt you or make you doubt your place within my heart" he whispers as he tugs your dress completely off, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud before going to get your nightdress, slipping the soft fabric over your body before wrapping his strong arms around your middle, nuzzling his nose in the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he breathes in deeply.

"I swear, by the old gods and new that my heart belongs to you, all of it." Cregan turns you around to face him and it's only then he sees your tear-stained face, the way your bottom lip juts out at his loving words.

"I love you," he says as you push your face against his chest, letting all the built-up emotions go as they leave you in the form of tears. His big hand soothes the expanse of your back as he sways you in his arms ever so gently. He swears to never make you feel as you did tonight, ever again.

"I love you too" you whisper against the leather he is wearing. He cups your face within his hands, the warmth of his palms bleeding with affection as his thumb soothes against the apples of your cheeks.

"Come on my love, let's go to bed eh?" you nod as he tucks your hair behind your ears. You fall asleep wrapped up with him, a mess of limbs underneath the furs as he holds you gently and in the morning and every morning after that Cregan sings your praises, never letting you doubt your place beside him, ever.

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Rainy mornings

{You and Rhaenyra enjoy a peaceful morning together}

Hope you enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

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It’s raining almost constantly on Dragonstone something you have come to love as time goes on. Especially in these moments when you wake up beside your beloved wife, her soft, white hair falling out of her once neat braid.

The back of her hand grazes against your cheek gently as you slowly begin to stir from your sleep. She props herself up on her elbow as she looks down at you with kind eyes, full of love and there's something about the warmth of the moment that seems to protect you from the harsh morning winds that whistle through the castle.

“Good morning my sweet girl” she smiles, keeping a hushed tone as she leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. Her hands soothe against the curve of your bare hip as he continues to press light kisses along your jaw smiling against you when you let out a small delighted sigh.

Rhaenyra watches as you rub your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips and she can’t help but let out a breathy giggle at the sight, but who could blame her? When her beautiful wife, lays naked beneath the white sheets, bathed in the morning sun as it rises. The happiness that blooms within her chest escapes her through soft giggles.

“Did you sleep well, my dear?” You ask, voice still laced with sleep. A gentle hand reaches up to brush away the hair that frames her face pushing it behind her ear, the back of your fingers grazing against her cheek.

“I always sleep well beside you,” she responds voice just above a whisper, before dropping a kiss to your shoulder. You shuffle closer to her, bringing the sheets with you as you rest your head against her chest. Rhaenyra traces her fingertips along your spine leaving goosebumps in their wake and the sensation only makes you nuzzle into her neck further, seeking out her warmth.

“Breakfast should be here soon so don’t go back to sleep my love” she whispers against your forehead, pressing her lips to your hairline as her hands still work their way up and down your back, enjoying the way your body feels against hers.

The familiar heavy sensation weighs against you, and you fight so hard to keep your eyes open, but the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and the way Rhaenyra's hands feel against your body makes it really hard.

“You’re certainly not making it easy,” you tell her with a soft chuckle.

Before she can defend herself there’s a knock at the door, and a voice from the other side, “Breakfast m’lady”

She pulls the sheets over your shoulders to cover your modesty before telling the maid to enter. She leaves two silver trays, full of warm pastries and fruit, on top of the stone table that sits at the end of the bed before leaving with a curt bow wishing the pair of you a pleasant morning.

“Come on my sweet girl, let us eat,” she says, watching as you move away from your very comfortable position, and suddenly she’s left very aware of just how cold it is. You sit with your back against the headboard, robe wrapped tightly around your body as a gust of wind pushes through the room.

“Eating in bed are we?” She smiles at the tired nod you give her in response.

“Yes, because you love me dearly and it is simply far too cold,” you tell her as she brings the trays over to the bed placing them down on the mattress carefully before sitting back down next to you, and as if out of instinct you lean closer to her searching for her warmth yet again.

“I do, I love you more than words could ever express,” she says with such sincerity that it leaves you breathless and it certainly doesn’t help when he presses a loving kiss to your lips, her hand caressing your cheek ever so gently.

The pair of you indulge in the food, feeding each other the different fruits and sweet pastries and Rhaenyra can’t help but admire your beauty, the way you seem to practically glow under the morning sun as a smile embraces your beautiful features. She truly loves you, even if you’re leaving crumbs on the bed.

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

-Cregan Stark x reader

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

CW// descriptions of blood/ reader is giving birth

Hope you enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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hi, may i please have some cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader (aka black reader) with cregan helping her take care of her really curly hair when she's tired after a long day?? thank you so much in advance <33333

-Cregan Stark x Velaryon!Reader

{Cregan takes care of you after a long day}

Of course my love! Hope you enjoy 💕

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You are half asleep, lying down on the sofa as you bathe in the warmth that bleeds from the fireplace. Exhaustion creeps upon you sitting heavy against your chest and despite your best efforts to fight it off you can’t help but close your eyes leaning further against the soft furs that draped over the couch.

Cregan had left just seconds ago to ask one of the maids to prepare you a bath, telling you to try and stay awake before leaving, something you were currently failing horribly at.

Your eyes flutter open to the sound of the old heavy wooden door as it creaks open. “Keep them eyes open pretty girl” Cregan smiles as he walks over you, joining you on the sofa and without missing a beat you shuffle closer to him.

“M’awake” you mumble, nuzzling closer to him as he wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers a gentle ‘good girl’ against you as you continue to try and stay awake.

It had taken several weeks to convince Cregan to allow you to go hunting with him, trying to soothe his worry about you getting hurt so when he finally agreed you had to jump at the opportunity, and you don’t regret a second of it even if your curly hair was now dirty and frizzy and all your muscles were aching.

You smile gently to yourself as you start to recall the ways Cregans hands settled against your waist, pulling you closer to him as he guided you to shoot the arrows despite the fact you knew exactly what to do. He’d find any excuse to touch you.

“Come on Sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up” He whispers in his gravelly voice, pressing his lips against your shoulder as he helps you up from the couch

Exhaustion sits heavy against you and the warmth of the fire certainly doesn’t help. You lean against Cregan, his strong arm wrapped around your waist as he guides you to the bath.

“Here I’ve got you” his fingertips graze against your skin as he begins to undress you, peeling the dirty fabric off of your body before helping you into the wooden tub, the water is pleasantly hot against your skin that it causes a sigh to fall from your lips as you lean in further.

Cregan smiles as he admires you and the way your eyes flutter close, how your soft lips curl up into a gentle smile. The lights of the candles only add to your beauty, how the warm light dusts over your skin making you glow.

“You’re beautiful” he whispers through his rough voice, hand slipping into your own beneath the hot water. You glance over at him, heart blooming with warmth at the sight of his lovesick eyes.

You pull his hand up to your mouth pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “As you often remind me dear husband” You grin against the back of his hand before he pulls away, reaching over to the small wooden bowls that lay beside the tub, full with different ointments for your hair.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever stop” he adds, leaning slightly over the edge of the tub, peppering your shoulders with kisses, lips trailing along your dewy skin. “Can I wash your hair, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice is so tender as he gently holds your chin between his thumb.

His offer makes your chest bloom with a sudden admiration, it melts your heart and you can't help but lean into his touch. “Of course… I’d love that” you admit, and you can’t help but close your eyes at the comforting atmosphere.

Cregan never fails to take your breath away, in fact, he takes pride in the way he can render you wordless with just a simple gesture. “Lean back for me dear” he whispers, as he carefully pours the warm water over your curly hair before gently working the oils into your scalp.

He remembers the night you told him the many steps you take to look after your hair, the prideful look in your eyes made him realise just how important it was to you. He paid extra attention to you and now he knows your routine like the back of his hand.

You lean back into his warm touch as he continues to wash your hair, pressing gentle kisses as he does so. The water soon turns tepid, and Cregan helps you out of the bath quickly wrapping a towel around you securely.

You dry yourself off before changing, sitting down on the bed as Cregan sits behind gently tying your hair wrap around your head, so it doesn’t dry frizzy. “Is it too tight?” He whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, the stubble from his beard tickles your skin, as you lean back against him.

“No it’s perfect, thank you my love” you whisper, smiling as his hands wrap around your waist hands settling against your lap. It doesn’t take too long for you to find sleep, wrapped up in the safety of Cregan's arms.

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-Cregan Stark x Reader

{You learn that your husband is a very affectionate drunk}

I’m so back… Enjoy my lovelies! 💕

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Northern men know how to drink, it’s something you learned from first-hand experience on the night of your wedding. How the lords and ladies danced and drank together throughout the night, slurring their words and spilling their ale.

Today was no different, a celebration for your husband's name day that has been going on since the sun had started to rise. You couldn’t complain about it, it was nice to see Cregan not overwhelmed with his duties.

The dining hall is dimly lit with candles that are littered everywhere, the white wax melts in clumps on the wooden tables that are stained with ale and wine. You notice how much calmer the atmosphere seems to be, now that the evening has approached, as you lean back into your chair.

Most of the guests had taken their leave by now and only a few Lords and Ladies remain, and even their faces were visibly exhausted. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you glance over to Cregan, who is already looking at you with soft, glossed-over eyes.

“You look beautiful” he whispers, his words are slurred from his drunken state, but they still carry so much honesty and love that it melts you.

The smile that teeters on your lips is uncontrollable and it only makes Cregan admire you even more. He leans back in his chair whilst he drinks the sight of you in with hungry eyes.

You rest your hand over Cregans as he squeezes your thigh gently. “Have you had a good day?” You ask as he nods his head, his big hand caressing your thigh lazily.

“The best… thanks to you my lady” he says with a soft chuckle at the way you give him an almost shy smile. He can’t help but adore everything about you… you’re beyond perfect, 'a gift from the gods' as Cregan always says.

“I’m glad, though, perhaps it is time to call it a day now?” You tell him as you take his calloused hand within yours. He hums in agreement as his thumb soothes against your palm.

Getting him back to your shared bedchambers was a very humorous challenge. You were practically dragging him along as he leaned onto you for support, his hands soothing against your hips and waist whilst you guided him through the cold halls of the Winterfell castle.

The fireplace warms your bedchambers, bathing the cosy room in a soft light, as it crackles and pops. Cregan watches you take off your jewellery before changing into your nightgown with a soft smirk, his eyes gleaming with fondness.

“Gods, look at you… an absolute goddess” he says, his raspy voice just above a whisper. He wastes no time in approaching you clumsily, his hands grasping needly on your body as he tugs you closer to him.

The giggle that escapes you leaves Cregan breathless and it certainly doesn’t help when your fingers begin to brush through his hair as you stand between his legs. He looks up at you with a smile as you cup his face gently… he simply can not get enough of you.

“You should sleep,” you tell him softly knowing how awful his morning fog will be. He shakes his head softly as he rests against your stomach, his hand still grasping at your hips.

“Not before I thank you properly… my queen” His tone is teasing as he lets out a soft chuckle at the way you gasp.

“Shh… your words are dangerously close to treason” you whisper softly as your hand moves to clasp over his mouth, you look down at him with an almost shy smile.

"My words will only be treason if someone hears them... and we are alone." He pulls your hand away from his mouth, his fingers caressing your wrist. The way you look when he praises you makes him crazy. Your eyes, your smile, you are beautiful.

He hugs you close, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "But you are my queen. You rule over my heart. No one could ever take that place from you."

The honesty and love that are woven within his each and every word takes you back, your expression softens and your eyes start to well up with tears. It’s an overwhelming feeling that warms your chest and makes your skin tingle.

You take a seat on the bed beside him with a soft sigh. His thumb wipes away your tears as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry… you’re far too pretty for that” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

A bright smile teeters on his lips at the sound of your precious laughter, he brushes your hair behind your ears before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“I love you, Cregan.” The words feel so natural and he absolutely relishes in the way you say it. He buries his face into the crook of your neck with a boyish smile.

“I love you too… my queen” he replies, his tone heavy with exhaustion as the alcohol starts to weigh on him however that doesn’t stop him from pressing lazy kisses all over your face, his hands soothing against your hips and waist whilst he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

Cregan will soon find sleep, with his arms wrapped around you and his face buried into your neck. You’ll have to tease him tomorrow about how much of an affectionate drunk he is.

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-Aegon Targaryen x Barmaid!Reader

{Aegon, once again, seeks refuge within the safety of your bedroom…}

Enjoy lovelies 💕

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Your bedroom was comforting. The low light from the candles cast warm shadows against the walls, and the warmth of the fireplace spread through the tiny, rundown room. It was an escape from the brothel in which you live above, an escape from the noise and drunken guards who were a little too rowdy tonight for your liking.

Seems the Prince also felt the same because when you walked into your room he was there, lying face down against the cushioned divan snoring ever so softly without a care in the world.

His white and choppy hair splayed messily over the pillow, his lips stained red from whatever cheap wine he had indulged himself in tonight.

It doesn’t surprise you nearly enough as it should, to see him here, a Prince, within the calmness of your own room sleeping and drunk no less.

You try to stay as quiet as possible, moving around the room on steady feet whilst you clean up the mess he had caused by stumbling into your room haphazardly.

But your attempts are useless when the sound of his hoarse voice breaks through the air, “Good… you’re back.” He pushes himself to sit up with a groan, his eyes heavy with a deep sorrow that he’s clearly trying to drink away.

The audacity, the way he thinks he can just barge in here. It frustrates you and rightfully so. “What have I told you about this… look at the mess you’ve made.” You huff with narrowed eyes as you pick up the books he had knocked over.

Aegon stands up with a struggle, his face scrunching up in what you presume is pain. “Where were you?” He completely ignores your complaints with a heavy sigh. His words are all slurred as he leans forward as if trying to spot you out on a lie.

He doesn’t even give you time to respond before he’s talking again through the thick haziness that the wine has caused. “They said you were here… and you weren't, I waited hours for you.” He says, his tone was clearly accusing you of something.

“Not all of us have the privilege to lay around and drink all day Aegon.” You tell him with an anger in your voice that he wasn’t used to, not from you at least.

You watch as his glossy eyes narrow with a turmoil of emotions that he can’t escape from. He’s quick to try and push past you with a dramatic huff. However, he doesn’t make it further than the end of your bed before he’s stumbling slightly with unbalanced footing.

“Seven hells, Aegon… what have you drank?” You mutter as you catch him just barely, an arm wrapping around his torso to help him stand up.

Despite him being completely inebriated he still tenses up at the feeling of your arm around him, keeping him steady. It’s a certain softness that he doesn’t deserve.

“The usual shit… now answer my question, where were you?” He mutters, turning his face towards yours. The smell of wine hits you much stronger now that he’s this close, his breath fanning against your cheek.

With a soft sigh, you cave. Knowing you won’t talk any sense into him whilst he’s like this. You’ve learned from the hard way that he’ll just end up circling back to the same question over and over again.

“I was in the market, I needed to stock up on a few things.” You tell him as he leans further into you for support, his arms circling your waist to try and keep himself upright.

He takes a breath as if he was going to argue with you, but no words follow. Instead, he presses his face into the crook of your neck with a heavy sigh, his fingers fisting the soft fabric of your shirt as he pulls you closer.

Your expression softens and you roll your eyes, your hand soothing his back. This happens a lot more than you care to admit and you can’t help but wonder, at times like this, what went wrong with him?

“You can’t leave… don’t leave me.” The words leave his lips pathetically, so heavy with emotion. His hands tighten, holding your shirt as if he were scared that you might just disappear into thin air.

“I’m not leaving, I won’t.” You tell him, a promise that he won’t believe, because you can guarantee that you’ll have the same conversation with him a couple of days from now.

But your words seem to do the trick for the time being as you feel him smile against your shoulder, pressing his face further into you. “Good, I won’t let you leave anyway.” He says with a certain seriousness in his tone, and in all honesty you wouldn’t put it past him to hunt you down if it came to that. He’s a prince after all, whatever he wants he gets.

You guide him to sit down on your bed, his hands falling to your hips as he collides with the bed with a groan, looking up at you with glazed-over eyes. A warm but strained smile adorns your lips as you rest your hands on either side of his face, his cheeks are warm beneath your palms.

His eyes flutter ever so slightly at the feeling. No one had ever touched him so sweetly, as if he was a piece of art that needed to be revered.

“Lay down… let me get something to eat.” You whisper softly as you guide him to lay against your pillows, his fingers wrapping around your wrist tightly so you don’t slip away from him.

It takes a lot of convincing and patience for you to finally leave your bedroom with the promise of bringing him a small meal. However, by the time you walk back up into the safety of the room he’s passed out on your bed.

His face smushed against your pillow as he curls himself up into a ball, his lips slightly parted. You sigh, placing the metal tray on your bedside table before sitting down next to him. You debate for a moment whether or not you should wake him, deciding it’ll be best to let him sleep off the wine.

With gentle fingers you brush his white hair away, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He could do with a good bath, you think to yourself. You sit there for a while, watching him as he nuzzles into the warmth of your pillow. He will be gone before the sun fully rises, leaving a small bag of coins on your dresser... in thanks?... or maybe as an apology? but for now, you'll enjoy this, the peaceful silence, whilst it lasts.

The candlelight flickers slightly with the breeze that pushes through your room, casting a warm light against his face. In many ways, this room is as much of an escape for him as it is for you.

-Cregan Stark x reader

{Cregan finds you curled up, sleeping in your shared bedchambers}

Enjoy my lovelies💕

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Lord Stark wasn’t unfamiliar with busy days, the type that consumed all of his attention and energy to only leave him exhausted. The endless amount of problems that seemed to grow with each passing hour, it was a tiring feat that he handled with ease.

His duty to his House and the North was admirable, you often find yourself marvelling at how much care he has for every single minute detail that most seemed to not notice. However, his duty to you was tenfold this… perhaps that is why Cregan decided to end his day earlier than usual.

Making the eager escape back to your shared bedchambers, just the thought of you turns him into a ball of giddiness, hidden behind the rugged nature that exudes him.

He forces himself to slow his movements down as he spots you, curled up in the middle of the bed, against the furs in your cotton nightgown. He silently curses the creaky, heavy, door of your bedchambers, the groan it lets out as he closes it shut causes you to gently stir from your sleep.

“Sorry, my dear.” He whispers brows pinched together as he takes off the furs that drape over his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You shake your head in weak protest to his words, rubbing your eyes with a smile at the feeling of him sitting down on the edge of the bed. He admires you for a moment, how the warm fireplace casts an orangey light over your body, painting you like some sort of goddess.

“I wasn’t sleeping… just resting my eyes.” You whisper through a sleep-laden tone, your gaze meeting his own.

With a chuckle he cups the side of your face, his calloused palm resting against your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the space underneath your eyes.

“Really? Then why are you drooling all over the pillows love?” He teases, lips curled upwards into a smirk.

“I did not!” You gasp and he watches you quickly push yourself to sit up and check the pillows, rolling your eyes with a small huff.

“Maybe just a little.” He whispers, thumbing at the corner of your mouth, wiping away the remnants of a really good nap.

You shoot a playful glare up at him, moulding back into your comfortable position. A sigh escapes your lips as his fingers brush through your hair, his fingertips grazing against your scalp soothingly.

His eyes soften at the way you lean into his touch, how your body seems to completely relax once more. “How long have you been ‘resting your eyes’ for?” He asks, amusement threading through his gentle tone.

“A while… I lost track of time.” You reply with an almost sheepish smile, enjoying the way he begins to play with your hair which has become a little tussled from sleep. “I did try to wait up for you…”

“Hmm, that didn't last too long, did it?” He asks, looking down at you with adoration, his chest blooming with warmth as you nuzzle yourself against the roughness of his hand.

“No… but I did try.” You promise, making space for him as he shuffles closer to you, drawing your body to rest against him.

Cregan props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with a tenderness in his eyes that completely melts you. He watches as you curl up against him whilst he brings the furs over your shoulders to protect you from the harsh winds that continue to howl through the castle.

"I appreciate the effort, my love, but you needn't tire yourself out waiting for me." He responds in a low and soothing tone, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

"You know I would never want you to lose sleep on my account." Cregan continues, letting his lips linger against your forehead. His hand comes to rest against your hip, caressing the curve and dip of your waist.

He has always been so sweet to you, putting you before anything else and never once letting you doubt your place in his heart. It was a shock, especially after the rumours you had heard about him when in reality he was a huge softie... at least to you he is.

A moment of silence passes and he thinks you might’ve fallen back asleep, that is until you’re pulling him back down to steal a sweet kiss, which he is quick to deepen. He hums in contentment against your lips at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair.

“I’ve missed you today.” You whisper against his lips, the kiss tapering off into small loving pecks.

He grins, caressing your cheek as he pulls back slightly to look down at you. “Well… I’m right here now and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.” He replies, his thumb trailing along your bottom lip as he holds your face before capturing your lips once more.

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I need him!

-Benjicot Blackwood x smallfolk!reader

{The Realm seems to have spiralled into disarray, Benjicot makes promises of protecting you}

Short and sweet because I can’t help myself, Enjoy my lovelies 💕

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The days seem much longer since the crowning of Aegon Targaryen, the Realm quickly swearing their fealty to whatever side could offer up the best deal or come across as the most threatening. Men were quick to take up swords, training all through the day and deep into the night.

Benjicot was not exempt from this, immediately following suit. Although it came naturally to him, a sword in his hand gave him a boost of confidence like you’ve never seen before and suddenly he was ready to take off into battle with an eagerness that would put anyone on edge.

It took up most of his time, unfortunately. The growing space between the pair of you was noticeable, you wouldn’t hold it against him, you couldn’t. Especially not when he visits you at the end of every day with a boyish grin and messy hair.

“Missed you today.” He breaks the silence, standing awkwardly at the doorway, watching you potter around the small kitchen.

Several moments pass and you still don’t even give him a glance, focused rather stubbornly on the task of scrubbing down the already pristine countertops. He makes a popping noise with his lips repeatedly, trying to gauge a reaction or at the very least your gaze.

With a groan he steps over to the dress you have been working tirelessly on, you have a talent for weaving threads and fabrics with your very hands, crafting the most beautiful dresses for the pretty ladies of the Vale for a rather pretty sum.

“Do not touch that with your filthy hands unless you wish to spend coin on new lace.” You tell him, turning around to meet his grin.

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop your lips from curling into a traitorous smile, the sight of him all dirtied and bloodied looked so out of place in the backdrop of pastel colours and the softest fabrics.

He puts his hands up in mock surrender, allowing you to tug him over to the wash basin with a chuckle that passes through his chapped lips.

His expression softens as he watches the way your gentle hands begin to wash the mud and blood from his own, so much more delicate than his, not sullied by violence and battle, no, they only knew needlework and he vows to keep it that way.

“I said I missed you today.” He repeats his earlier statement, tilting his head slightly towards yours to meet your eyes.

“I suppose I should be grateful then, Lord Blackwood.” The words leave a bad taste in your mouth, despite the fact that there was no malice behind them, but still, that doesn't stop the regret that immediately swells up inside your chest at the deflated look he gives you.

“I sense I’ve done something wrong, have I?…” he treads carefully, his eyes searching your expression as your hands carefully work to free them of muck.

You shake your head, drying off his hands as you stare down at them with a troubled look. “No… forgive me I have been rather on edge as of late.”

He hums in understanding at your words, glancing around the room, trying to think about the right thing to say, before finally looking back down at you. In truth, he has never been good at this, words, but for you, he’ll try.

“You got me and I’m better than anyone in battle, you’ve seen it yourself, I’ll protect you.” He states with so much confidence in his tone you can’t help but chuckle, it was true he became a wildly different person on the battlefield, a man possessed by the thrill.

You avert your eyes to the sword that stands, leaning up against the wall with your brows pinched together in worry. Benjicot’s hands immediately cup either side of your face with care, the feeling of his calloused hands keeps your mind from drifting off to every worst possible scenario.

“Hey, look at me.” He whispers, tipping your head up ever so gently. “If anything happens you’ll have refuge at Raventree.” He promises, his tone carrying a seriousness that he does not always have.

“You sound so sure they’ll just take me in…” You whisper, unsure if you’d be welcomed at all.

“I will demand it, and so will my Aunt, she loves you especially after you made her that riding jacket.” His words warm your heart, a soft smile gracing your lips at the memory of Alysanne, the gratefulness of her tone and the excitement in her eyes.

A warm smile spreads across your lips, his rough hands still cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing across Westeros, the pads of his thumbs caressing the space under your eye.

“Now, no more worrying, hmm?” He announces, pressing a kiss against your forehead with a smirk as you agree with a small whispered ‘Alright’

The pair of you soon find comfort in the warmth of your bed, listening to him ramble on vividly about his day, his hands moving all over the place to get his point across and for the time being everything seems to be peaceful.

- Hiya my lovelies!! 💕

Please send over some requests for house of the dragon, I’m dying to write for my baby girls <3

Or you can check out my master-list here! for other fandoms, love you lots!! 💕

Hello! May i request another cute moment with Cregan Stark and his son? Maybe Cregan was starting to teach his son how to use the sword. Idk if this is a good idea.

-Cregan Stark x Reader

I love this!! thank you for requesting, enjoy my lovelies💕

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Summer in the North was not so different from the winter, save for the slightest change in the air and the fact that the sun made an appearance every now and again. The people also seemed happier too, lighter without the weight of worry that sat heavily upon their shoulders.

This meant that Cregan had more free time, the afternoons now spent with his son, Rickon, out in the training yard. The echos of their laughter filled Winterfell with a warmth, it was infectious.

You stand underneath the stony overhang, watching the pair of them with a content expression. Cregan shows him how to hold the wooden sword, giving him pointers on how to stand correctly and how to swing the sword without hurting himself.

“There we go son, getting the hang of it.” He beams proudly, watching Rickon swing the sword against the hay-filled man before ruffling his brown hair with a chuckle. He was so patient with him, never once rushing him.

The sound of your clapping makes the pair of them turn around, each of them wearing the same love-filled expression and dark messy hair.

“Momma!” Rickon giggles, dropping his sword before rushing over to you with a toothy grin and bright eyes. It still makes your heart leap with joy whenever he calls you ‘momma’ despite the fact he isn’t yours you still love him like he is, he’s practically your other half.

You reach down to brush the snowflakes from his hair, your hand brushing against his rosy cheek as hugs you sideways. “Are you not too cold my sweet?” You ask softly, watching as he shakes his head.

“No… but did you see me, did you? I’ll be using real swords soon!” He exclaims excitedly, jumping up and down in pure joy as Cregan joins the pair of you, resting his hand against the small of your back.

“I did, you’re a natural.” Your words only make his smile brighten, his hands clasping together with a giggle. The sight causes Cregan's heart to melt, tenderness blooming through his chest.

It fills him with adoration, the way you treat his son with such kindness, how you’ve learned all about his interests and the way you read to him nightly. The love he harbours for the pair of you was stronger than the winds of the North.

Rickon rushes off back to the training yard, shouting for you to watch him before picking the wooden sword back up.

“Here… you look cold, my love.” Cregan notes, taking off one of his furs before draping them gently over your shoulders to protect you from the chill that lingers in the air. He takes your hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles in hopes of warming them up.

You look up at him with a warm smile, watching as he guides your hands to his mouth, his lips peppering gentle kisses along your knuckles and the back of your hands. “Thank you, always so attentive.” You whisper, your tone carrying a certain twinge of playfulness.

“Of course, you’re carrying my child now, you deserve only the best.” He says firmly, pressing another kiss against your temple, his hand caressing your back comfortingly.

You hum in acknowledgement, leaning against his sturdy frame as he holds you close to his chest. The pair of you watch Rickon as he swings the wooden sword into the straw man with vigour.

“Do you think he’ll be excited?” You ask, tilting your head to look up at him, his hair half tied up to keep it out of his eyes.

“Oh, he’ll be over the moon.” His words soothe the worry in your heart, suddenly replaced by excitement as he continues with a chuckle, “I can already picture him, as soon as they can walk he’ll be dragging them out here.”

You giggle at the thought of Rickon teaching his younger sibling to sword fight, your hand falling to the slight swell of your stomach. The idea of the Winterfell castle being filled with a litter of mini Starks, their laughter and bickering, it brought a giddiness to the both of you.

Rickon continues to practice for a few more minutes, running towards the straw man with the sword grasped tightly in his hands only to slip, falling against the gravel on his knees, you gasp softly in worry as Cregan goes to walk over to him.

“I’m okay!” He calls out to the pair of you, standing up with a bright smile, brushing off his knees before running back over to you.

“Gods be good.” Your husband sighs, shaking his head with a small twinge of amusement flickering through his eyes. “Let’s get you both inside, hey…”

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-Benjicot Blackwood x Arryn!Reader

{Benjicot doesn’t mind getting his hands bloodied if it means protecting your honour}

word count- 1.7k

!CW!//vulgar language, descriptions of blood// Enjoy my lovelies💕

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The Vale was all harsh winds and rain since the sun had first begun to rise above the horizon, a thick layer of fog rolls through the high mountains and over the hills creating a rather eerie atmosphere around the courtyard of Raventree hall.

You sit on the balcony that overlooks the training grounds with your sister, Jeyne Arryn, protected from the light rain by the stoney overhang. You both had been asked to unite your houses for a few days in hopes of getting the men more accustomed to the sword and shield a little faster.

It had been going great in all honesty, they seemed to have lifted each other spirits despite the pressure of the looming war.

“Is your friend down there?” Jeyne smirks, looking over at you with a playful gleam in her eyes.

She takes joy in the way your eyes widen ever so slightly, how you move away from the edge to slouch back into your chair. “No, not yet.” You mumble, crossing your arms over your chest in a harrumph.

You roll your eyes at Jeyne and the sound of her chuckles, smiling into her cup whilst she continues to tease you. Her jabs are soon cut off by the sound of men cheering and metal clanging together in excitement.

You immediately lean back over the stone railing of the balcony, looking down at the group of men searching for…

Benjicot. He had made quite a name for himself over the past few moons, his way with a sword was… wild to put it more kindly. He was a madman on the battlefield, charging in with absolutely no fear, the complete opposite of the shy boy you grew up with.

For a small second your gazes meet. He waves softly, sending you a sweet smile which you happily return before he’s dragged away to the training yard by his friends.

The sound of your sister’s giggling snaps you out of the moment, your face twisting into a small frown. “Do not start.” You huff, slouching back into the chair with a pout.

Your sister makes small conversation, keeping it light as you watch over the training. Benjicot found it hard to stay focused, his mind drifting over to the fact that you were watching him with your pretty eyes.

The pair of you shared plenty of fleeting moments together, lingering touches and sweet whispered words. You danced along the line of friends and something more but neither of you took the leap, too scared of ruining the deep friendship you have.

Benjicot sits on a tree stump, cleaning his sword with a rag as his eyes glance between the balcony where you sit and the men around the training yard. He was miles away, thinking about how he could see you tonight… perhaps a walk through the garden… or maybe sneaking you into the kitchens.

His mind soon gets away from him, all of his thoughts consumed by you… but then again when are they not?

The sound of two rowdy men snaps him out of his trance, his expression immediately darkening with his brows pinched together tightly. They sound drunk as they speak horrid nonsense about women, barely able to hold their swords let alone stand on two feet.

“I’d fuck her… bet her cunt is tight too, ey?” The taller one says, harshly nudging the other man's shoulder almost sending him tumbling to the floor.

Benjicots fingers tighten around the hilt of the sword, his knuckles going white with anger. He hopes for their sake that they’re not talking about you. “Mhm… bet shes a squealer.” The other man agrees, the pair of them chuckling.

The sound goes right through Ben, his blood running cold as he watches them cast their predatory gaze over to you as you lean curiously over the edge of the balcony.

The sword that he was cleaning drops to the floor with a dull thud. He acts way before he thinks, his body moving without hesitation and before he knows it he’s coiling back his arm, colliding his tight fist down against one of the taller drunkards face as the other scurries off.

A crimson colour stains his knuckles, the blood warm and wet in between his fingers. The adrenaline overshadows the pain that shoots down his arm, reducing it to a mere tingle that he’ll surely feel later on. He watches the fool drop to the damp, cold ground, writhing in pain whilst clutching his nose as it weeps a thick red.

Benjicot opens and closes his hand, trying to lessen the ache. “Perhaps next time you’ll hold your tongue.” He sneers before storming off with a mean glare that makes everyone step out of his way.

You had watched the whole scene unfold, worry immediately settling in the pit of your stomach, etching across your face. Your sister tells you to ‘stay put’ however her words fall upon deaf ears as you rush back inside, running down the halls and the twists and turns of the castle.

The Maesters chambers are where you find Benjicot. His aunt walks out of the room with a displeased expression, however, the candlelight gives away the amusement that flickers through her dark eyes.

She greets you with a warm smile, nodding her head. You return the action before slipping into the room, your gaze immediately finding his as he gives you a sheepish smile.

“Hey…” his words break through the silence, the crackle of the hearth taking over once more as you wordlessly walk deeper into the room.

His hand was submerged in a dark oak basin, the water inside had long turned murky with a minty almost medicinal aroma. You sit down on the chair adjacent to his own, brows pinched together in concern.

“Where’s the Maester?” You ask, looking at him with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Gone to get some sort of balm… I don’t need it.” His words make you tut, shaking your head as you watch him pull his hand out of the water. He seethes a little in pain, teeth clenched.

You reach over for a cloth, drying off his hand but whilst being careful to not cause him any more discomfort, he was already shifting and squirming in his chair.

“What even happened?” You sigh, holding his injured hand against your lap. Your thumb ever so gently caresses his palm in such a way that it makes his mind spin and his heart skip a beat.

He swallows, clearing his throat. “They— they were making… distasteful… comments towards you. I won’t repeat them.” He tells you, shaking his head firmly.

“How silly… look at your hands over some words.” You scold lightly, although there was no real bite to your soft tone. You couldn’t be, in fact, the thought of him defending you like this sends a pleasant warmth blooming through your chest. Although you wouldn’t tell him that, for his own sake.

“I’m fine, I have no regrets. They deserved it.” He states, watching the way you bring his knuckles into the candlelight to assess the damage.

They were red raw, the skin split open at the tips of each knuckle save for his thumb. A purplish colour tints the delicate skin, the shade darker around the cuts then fading off into a more dull colour. It certainly was not fine.

“You should be more careful.” Your words are hushed, whispered into the air, so soft that if he weren’t sitting so close to you he probably wouldn’t hear you. His eyes meet your own once more, admiring the way the candles cast an orangey light across your pretty features.

His fingers itch to reach out and tuck a loose curl behind your ear, to graze the back of his fingers along to warm cheek. But he refrains, even the mere thought has his stomach swarming with nervous butterflies.

You take another thin sheet of cloth, edges ragged with loose threads and the fabric an off-white colour. He looks at you with a quizzical expression, watching you dip one end of the cloth into the basin.

Before he can ask any questions you’re already leaning closer to him, knees bumping together. Your hand reaches out to ever so gently cup his jaw, fingers curling against his cheek to hold his head still whilst you wipe away a small mud stain just under his eye.

“Thank you…” he says, breath hitching in his throat at the way your thumb brushes along his warm cheek.

“No, I should be thanking you, really.” Your words make him smile, his eyes softening. “Thank you,” You add, your eyes searching his own.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t, not with you so close to him. He fears that he might have ruined the moment when silence wraps around the room. He suddenly doesn’t know what to do with himself or if he should move the hand that rests upon your lap.

He lets out a small noise in the back of his throat, trying to will the words from his lips but none come and it only serves to cause his mind to spiral, cursing himself and his inability to speak.

The feeling of your lips against his cheek brings him back, his worries and fears ebbing away until the only thing that was on his mind is your flowery perfume and the softness of the kiss. He finally lets out a breath. His hand rests against your knee as you pull back, a pang of disappointment hitting his chest.

“You don’t need to thank me… I’d never let anyone slander your name, but either way, you are welcome.” He finally manages to speak, the words tumbling out of his lips rather ungracefully.

You entwine your fingers with his own, minding his roughened knuckles, holding his hand ever so gently with your own. His thumb caressing the inside of your wrist, the calluses feel strangely nice.

“Perhaps afterwards we could walk through the gardens?” The suggestion makes his heart skip a beat, the image was already vivid in his mind, walking arm in arm with you.

“Of course, if it would please you, my lady.” He replies, hoping the words sound more graceful than before.

You hum in agreement, nodding your head. Your warm hands still in his own, the kiss lingering on his cheek, your knees pressing against either side of his own and your honeyed gaze still upon him… he realises he’s completely doomed, you hold his heart in the palm of his hand.

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