baelor's dowager princess

werewolf!cregan stark who loves chasing his pretty wife through the woods, snapping his jaws at the hem of your skirts just to make you gasp and run faster. you just look so good like that: skin warmed from exertion, chest heaving, mouth parting to breathe properly. he could catch you at any moment, but the view of your body swaying and jiggling as you quicken your pace, of the way you yelp and whine when your delicate bare feet scrape against the dirt and pebbles on the ground... gods, it makes his maw water, fangs aching to sink into any part of you.

werewolf!cregan stark who plunders your mouth, clawed paw willing your jaw open as far as it will go so he can lap inside, slow and filthy. he is uncaring of the way it must look, towering over you, maw pressed close, his textured tongue licking the inside of your mouth, tasting you fully. spit and drool running down your chin, and lower, glistening against your neck and dirtying your clothes, but you do not mind. not when your husband’s thick, long tongue is reaching the back of your throat, thrusting it as deep as it would go, fucking your mouth and making you choke around whines of pleasure. the feeling is debauched and sinful, but the growl of approval you get from the beast every time you struggle around the insistence of his kiss makes you preen.

werewolf!cregan stark who calls you pup in private, when it’s just the two of you, and he still has the sense of speech with him, more man than beast, crooning it into your ear, rumbled from deep in his chest. at first, you thought it was a means to make jest of you, but cregan wouldn’t dream of using such a special endearment with anything but aching devotion. “so pretty for me, pup,” he’ll mouth against your cheek, nuzzling into the warm flesh as he holds you close after another night of giving your bodies to one another. “does my pup want more?” your husband would ask seeing you eye the now empty plate of lemon cakes onto the table at supper, a pout onto your lips. “no, pup. we can’t afford such luxuries today,” he regretfully murmurs before pressing an apologetic kiss to your cheek. “be good for me, pup. don’t fuss.” cregan would growl against your nape as he held you down beneath him, ceasing your squirming.

werewolf!cregan stark who lets himself be the ancient, feared beast in the sanctity of your chambers. massive, furred, and dangerous, but never one to hurt even a hair on your pretty head unless you wished it. at times, you ask for the animal yourself, needing to prove to your husband that you love every inch of him. that, and having a hulking, panting mountain of a man-wolf wanting nothing but to lose himself in you makes your cunt shamefully wet. you know most people would find you mad, to feel and desire such a thing from a beast who could tear your throat out in one swift movement, but you cannot help yourself. for that is still your husband, and knowing that even like this, changed and wearing the skin of a wolf, he still wants for you in the most primal of ways, wills your thighs to spread open and present yourself to him in a heartbeat.

werewolf!cregan stark who takes you to the godswood late into the night and tells you to run as fast as you can, for he will give you a wide berth before catching you. the night air is so cold, and you’re wearing nothing but his cloak around you, since your husband wanted you bare and ready for him when he’ll get his claws on you. clothes are bothersome, and the beast is hungry, but he, of course, allows his wife the decency of a warm furred cloak, not wishing for you to freeze before the hunt even began. watching you move through the trees, giggles falling from your mouth as you make sure to sway your hips from side to side as you move further and further away, cloak billowing behind you, offering cregan flashes of soft skin and lush flesh he wishes to sink his fangs into. he had never transformed faster, bones creaking, flesh tearing to make room for fur and muscle and brawn, growling as he leaped into motion on all fours to follow your trail. his prey was waiting for him, and he could already sniff the slick of arousal between your thighs calling out to him like a spell.

werewolf!cregan stark who finds you no long after, but doesn’t pounce yet. instead, he circles. prowls through the trees, allowing you to see flashes of him, hear the rumbles of his need, and the snapping of his maw. your breath hitches, and your chest heaves with heavy breaths of exertion from running, but it does not compare to the delicious ache you feel between your thighs, pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing, the thrill of the chase spiking your adrenaline, steadily weening it into lust. and cregan smells it, willing him into getting closer, making himself seen, paws digging into the damp earth as he approaches enough to snag at the cloak with his claws and nip at a flash of bare calf that got too close to his maw.

werewolf!cregan stark who tackles you into the ground, tearing away the cloak from your body, impatience eating away at the little restraint he has, words ceasing to exist now, all that remained being the low sounds of need from a beast whose cock hangs heavy between his legs, needing to be sheathed inside your cunt as soon as possible. he covers you fully, pinning you belly first into a pile of leaves and dirt, jaws parting to close around your nape, scruffing you, as a wolf would a misbehaving pup, keeping you beneath him as he molds his furred body against the length of your back. the bite doesn’t draw blood, but wills you into obedience, limbs melting, surrendering yourself fully to the beast above you, which draws a growl from deep within his chest, a sound of satisfaction at your subservience. you’re already so, so wet, dripping down your thighs, and cregan cannot help but hump against your ass like a dog in heat, claws scraping against the earth on either side of your head from the feeling. he’s a bow drawn tight, and the way his big, girthy cock rubs between the fat cheeks of your bottom makes his fangs ache.

werewolf!cregan stark who feeds the head of his cock into your hole with a snarl muffled against your nape, holding back from howling from how snug your pussy is around his weeping length. he should be ashamed that he is knotting the air, gorged flesh already pulsing at the base of his cock, but can’t bring himself to when you squeeze so deliciously around him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside. cregan takes you like what he is: a beast. growling and panting against your skin, scruffing you firmly as he pounds into you with fervor, drooling against your nape from how good it feels, blanketing you with his massive, furred form, rutting into your pussy hard enough to jostle you back and forth against the ground.

werewolf!cregan stark who wishes words were still given to him in this beastly form, only able to enunciate the delectable pleasure you’re giving him with nothing but growls and croons and rumbles, hoping those are enough for you to know that your cunt is the best gift you could bestow upon him, next to your heart. your moans and wanton cries delight him, only coaxing him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper, nudging his knot past the opening of your hole and stuffing you so full of him you swear your soul ascends to the gods for a mere moment. the beast rumbles when you squeeze him tight, only able to give sharp grinds into your pussy now, the knot binding you both together. cregan unlatches his maw from your neck, rough tongue lapping at the indents his fangs have left behind in silent apology, but preening with pride at having left his mark upon your skin. you babble incoherently, so lost in pleasure you barely can form a word, tears running down your cheeks from the sheer mounting pleasure you’re given, which cregan licks sloppily, tasting salt and wife on his palate.

werewolf!cregan stark who pins you down and makes you take it, knowing you can, knowing you want it, even in the dirt, and breeds you so full it leaks out of you, dripping between your thighs and onto the ground, even staining his fur. it irritates and delights him in equal measure that your body is smaller than his, not being able to take all his cum into your womb, but loving to know that he is giving you so much of his seed, his potency and virility so strong that your hole cannot keep all of it. a shame, really, to waste it away, but that is alright. cregan will only have to breed you again to make up for it, like he always does. your womb is made to take his litter, to have his pups, and he will make sure he prepares your body for it accordingly, giving it what it needs for the seed to catch.

werewolf!cregan stark who loves to press a heavy paw against the pudgy flesh of your belly, right above your crotch, to feel the head of his cock kissing your womb. to feel the slight roundness of your stomach after he has pumped you full of his cum, the flesh protruding a little from the sheer amount of it. or, to apply pressure in time with his thrusts, making you feel every inch of him as he ruts into you like an animal.

werewolf!cregan stark who gives in to his most primal desires, feral from the full moon, and fucks you into a cave at the outskirts of winterfell, at the foot of a mountain. it’s cold and damp and primitive, but your husband is too far gone to care, driving his cock into your sopping wet cunt, pressing you into the floor of the cave, only cushioned by his cloak. he claws at the rocky, rough surface, leaving indents behind on the ground on either side of your head as he mounts you like a beast, one paw lifting your hips up and backwards to meet his thrusts, presenting you to him, arching your body as far as it would go, like a cat in heat, ready to give him what he needs. your ass jiggles with every snap of his furred hips, and he howls in delight as his knot nudges deep into your hole and rubs against your gummy walls. your mouth is open and drooling onto his cloak as you leave yourself in his clawed paws to do with as he wishes, moving you as he wants you, pulling you onto his cock again and again while you moan and take it, warm cheek flush against the hard ground of the cave. cregan is mad with need, filling you with his seed until your belly swells with it, crooning against your throat as he nips at it enough to sting, then laps the pain away, only to do it again. his precious, gorgeous mate, spent under him, mewling and hiccuping wanton whines of pleasure as you let him use your pretty hole, even squirting around his cock, dampening his fur, marking him back. it satisfies a sick feeling in his chest, willing you to do it again and again, delirious with overstimulation until his fur is drenched in your juices and you are so spent you cannot string more than two words together.

werewolf!cregan stark who croons so sweetly as he cradles you under him, gentle as he turns you around to see your pretty face, your dazed, drowsy gaze, your drooly lips. and he swears there is no better sight in all the seven kingdoms and beyond. your husband is so careful as he curls beside you, using his massive, furred body to offer you warmth, paws maneuvering you slowly until you are pressed to his chest. his maw nuzzles against the top of your head, the length of your throat, the valley between your breasts, rough tongue lapping lazily at the sweat-slicked skin, offering comfort. cregan always handles you as gingerly as he can after he’s wrung every ounce of pleasure from your body, thanking you in his own brutish way for allowing him to have you, even like this, more beast than man. he grooms you, as a wolf would a pup, nuzzling and licking at every patch of skin he can, sweeping dirt and tears from your cheeks, crooning as he lulls you into drowsiness, your body lax and pliant against his hulking frame.

werewolf!cregan stark who begrudgingly allows his body to will itself into the form closer to a direwolf at times, at your request, growling as he listens to you argue that it is better for keeping you warm on the colder days and allows you to curl around him better than his other, more ferocious, towering form. you will never admit how fond you are of your husband like this, all furred and fluffy, a perfect candidate to hold and snuggle to bed, to his utter dismay. he gets more playful like this, nipping at your skirts and nosing underneath them, receiving countless scoldings from you, which the beast only responds to with a flicker of his ears and a swish of his tail. cregan can be a bastard at times, and he enjoys toying with you, lifting one of his forelegs to paw and knead at your ass or thigh when you least expect it. or smack it. whatever fancies him in that moment.

werewolf!cregan stark who has a hard time allowing you to be at your desk, foreseeing scrolls and letters for more than half an hour before he noses his way under your skirts to lap at the soft skin of your thighs and nip at your small clothes, tearing them away so he can get to your cunt. there is not much you can do when a beast is pushing his maw against your pussy, snout pressing against your slit, panting and drooling as he sniffs at the curls that hide his favourite meal. your husband’s rough tongue has no shame as it laps at you, parting your folds to taste you fully, furred ears twitching in delight as your slick floods his mouth and makes his fangs ache. his tail wags incessantly as he licks at your pussy, growling into the heat of you, uncaring of the work that needs your attention. your skirts are pooled over your waist, your wolf is between your legs, and you’re powerless to push him away, fingers coming to weave through the fur between his ears, petting fondly, eliciting a pleasant rumble from him.

werewolf!cregan stark who has no qualms in pressing his snout right against your crotch when he can sniff your moon blood has befallen you, whining needily, akin to a pup, until he can get his big, furry head under your skirts so he can lick away the blood between your thighs, lapping at it greedily, tail wagging in delight as the beast feasts. you are absolutely horrified the first time it happens, pushing at him and yelping as you try to scramble away, but big, clawed paws hold you still, pitiful whines and growls rumbling from his maw as he pleads, in his own way, for you to let him ease the pain and ache between your thighs, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, cramps becoming merely dull afterthoughts under the care of your husband. looking at him afterwards always makes you ashamed, the fur around his jaws stained red with your blood, dripping down his neck, marking him. he licks at his chops, preening under your gaze, ears twitching. the bastard.

werewolf!cregan stark who is the first to know when his seed has taken root inside of your womb, circling you as he sniffs at every inch of skin he can press his snout against, crooning so deep you swear you feel it in the marrow of your bones. you’re going to have his pups. his litter. and he is utterly obsessed with keeping you close as much as possible, foregoing his duties when the north allows it so he can spend his time curled up next to you, nosing at your belly and lapping at the growing pudge, nuzzling it as he croons and purrs. your husband sleeps with his head onto your belly, or one heavy paw kneading ever gently at the skin there, needing to know every sound, every shift.

werewolf!cregan stark who fucks you slow and deep, even while you’re heavy with his pups, rutting into you as he’s pressing his hulking, furred body against your back, both of you lying onto your sides where you’re most comfortable, to not put strain onto your pregnant belly. one paw is splayed against it, holding it from the underside to ease the heaviness of it for you as he makes sure to drive his cock right where you need it, careful to keep his knot away, mindful of the way your body is too sensitive for such things now. instead, he knots the air, not nudging it inside your hole like he would’ve done before, restrain made of iron, the safety and contentment of his mate paramount. cregan offers his cock to you whenever you wish it while you’re pregnant, knowing that pheromones can make you crave pleasure more than before, and he is more than delighted to provide his length, mouth, everything at your service.

werewolf!cregan stark who cannot help but nuzzle against your chest, nipping at the neckline of your nightgown, sniffing greedily when he catches whiffs of sweet, warm milk leaking from your nipples and staining the fabric of your chemise. his rough tongue is lapping at the pebbled peaks through the soft material, hungry and greedy for a taste, whining and snarling softly, having half a mind to rip the garment to pieces with his fangs. he can’t help the rumble of satisfaction when you tug your neckline down with a huff, presenting your tits to him, heavy with milk and dripping what he can only assume is the nectar of the gods, for it tastes like so when he lets his tongue lap at your nipples like a frenzied dog, tail wagging incessantly behind him, looking more a pup tasting milk than an ancient beast thrice the size of his wife.

werewolf!cregan stark who fucks his pregnant wife with his tongue when he is too fearful to use his cock anymore, allowing you to rock against the textured surface of his palate to your delight, squeezing around it as if to milk him dry. he ruts his tongue into you steadily, giving you the pleasure you seek as you hold onto his fur and moan prettily. your husband is so good to you.

werewolf!cregan stark who will never admit how weak he gets when you let mewls of “good boy” slip past your lips whenever he is between your legs, his tail having a mind of its own as it wags uncontrollably, whining into your pussy from the praise, driving him to satisfy you with more vigour, leaning into the pets you offer him so sweetly.

werewolf!cregan stark who is like a sentinel when your pups are born, grooming them so carefully, licking at their downy heads and nuzzling their soft cheeks, cradling them against his furred body, cocooning them in his warmth. he scents them as often as possible, nosing at their chubby bellies and soft throats to make sure they smell just like him. so everyone knows that these precious pups are his and yours. a labour of your love.

werewolf!cregan stark who needs to leave his mark on you and his pups, scenting all of you heavily every morning before he leaves for court and duties, needing to groom and tend to his little family, crooning and purring happily when all of you nuzzle back into him. cregan’s heart couldn’t be more full.