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Jenna Ortega for the Beetlejuice Beetlejuice press tour #her stylist always understands the assignment

Hot in The City

note: if there are any mistakes left, excuse me for that! Thank you to @sihtricsafin for cheering me on with this one, and a thank you to @neonhairspray and @foxyanon for unintentionally inspiring certain moments, you know exactly what you did.

warnings: 18+. fluff, smut.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x fem!reader

summary: Your trip to Valencia came with a sudden romance.

word count: 4,5k

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

You woke up with your body still aching pleasantly from the night before. Spending a night in your hotel room with a stunning man you had only met the day before wasn't something you had expected to happen during your two week stay in Spain. But it had happened somehow, and you were greeted with the sight of the man's beautiful face as he was still asleep next to you the morning after. His previously braided hair was loose and messy, and neither of you had bothered to put some clothes back on after having experienced multiple orgasms before you had both fallen asleep in each other's embrace.

The name that belonged to the man who had pleased you for hours on end was Sihtric. A name you couldn't possibly forget as you had moaned it multiple times the night before.

You quietly giggled and blushed when you remembered the previous night. The pretty man with his slightly scarred face was undoubtedly the most passionate lover you'd ever been with, but he was also a light sleeper.

'What's so funny?' Sihtric suddenly murmured with sleepy eyes and a satisfied half smile on his face.

'Nothing,' you chuckled and turned to face him, 'surprised you're still here is all.'

Sihtric looked at you with one eye open and his other closed, then laughed softly.

'Well,' he said and cleared his throat, 'if you want me to leave…'

'I never said that,' you argued with a smile.

'Thought so,' Sihtric hummed and pulled your naked body against his under the thin sheets, 'and why would I possibly want to leave you?' he asked and planted his lips onto yours before you could even respond.

2 Days earlier.

A girls trip to Spain was exactly what you needed. You and three of your best friends hopped on a plane last-minute after booking separate rooms in a modest hotel near the beach in Valencia. The weather was perfect when you arrived, and you all wasted no time in grabbing some dinner and going out to party. You were all single and, to be honest, not even looking for a man. You were all just looking for a good time. 

The night started calm with a few drinks at a couple of different bars, but as the night progressed the bars and clubs became more crowded and the alcohol went down even easier. For your friends at least. You were always a little wary when it came to getting drunk, especially being in a foreign country, so you kept your cool and ordered a couple glasses of water throughout the night while your friends were clearly as drunk as could be. But you didn't mind, because you still had the most fun you have had in ages. None of you could deny that the attention from several Spanish men was flattering, but no one seemed to excite you enough to get carried away, so you only accepted the drinks they bought for you and then avoided them for the rest of the evening.

That was until you locked eyes with a terribly handsome guy across the bar from you. He was tall and muscular, dressed in black cargo jeans and a white loose fitted shirt. He had a tattoo on his neck and wore a Mjölnir pendant, and his dark tied back hair matched his well kept facial hair. He didn't seem Spanish, but he was absolutely stunning and you couldn't keep your eyes off him the whole time you waited for the bartender to take your order. And it seemed that the handsome man felt the same, as his eyes were completely locked on you while he fidgeted with the rings he wore around his tattooed fingers. He flashed you a sly smile before the bartender blocked your view, handing you your drink, and when the bartender stepped away you sighed sadly as the handsome man had seemingly disappeared.

'Just my luck,' you muttered and grabbed your drink.

You turned to head back to your friends, who needed some air and sat at a table on the terrace where you could all enjoy the warm summer night, when suddenly the handsome stranger appeared in front of you as you made your way through the crowd. He greeted you with his warm voice and introduced himself as Sihtric, and after finding out your name he asked if he could buy you your next drink.

'Sure,' you said with a flirty grin and shrugged lightly.

'Are you alone?' Sihtric then asked.

You told him your friends were outside and you invited him to join you, which he gladly did, since his friends were drunk and he had no idea where exactly they were, which had landed him alone at the bar before he spotted you.

'Lucky me,' you said and gave him a flirty wink.

'And me,' Sihtric said and bit down on his lower lip as he took your hand, 'you lead the way, beautiful.'

You blushed heavily as you held his big and warm hand, leading him further through the crowded bar and onto the terrace. You stopped before you reached your friends as you saw the girls had gotten the company of a group of men, and you suddenly heard Sihtric laugh behind you.

'I found my friends,' he said and looked at the same table your friends were at.

'Looks like your friends joined my friends,' you laughed, 'what are the odds?'

You joined the party with your catch of the night and enjoyed some banter and small talk. You learned the guys were all from England too and you got along well, but soon you and Sihtric drifted off in your own bubble after he had taken a seat and pulled you in his lap.

'So you're only here for a few weeks I gather?'

'Yes,' you answered, 'two weeks before we head home again. What about you guys?'

'Believe it or not,' Sihtric chuckled and looked at his drunk friends, 'we're part of the national rugby team. We're in town for a championship that starts in a few days. So we are here for as long as we manage to stay in the competition.'

You looked at Sihtric and then at his friends, who couldn't possibly stand on their feet anymore, and you laughed.

'Rugby? Really?'

'Absolutely,' Sihtric smiled, 'we have training early in the morning, so I'm not sure why they thought it was a good idea to get drunk, but that's not my problem. I'm still sober enough to wake up without a headache,' he said and winked.

You laughed and shrugged the whole rugby thing off, but you were more than happy to be in the company of the handsome rugby player while his friends entertained your friends, and you got to know more about Sihtric as the night went on. 

But sadly enough, shortly after midnight, Sihtric told you he really had to head back to his hotel to get some sleep for tomorrow's day of hard work again. You were visibly saddened that he had to leave, so he suggested walking you to your hotel after he had convinced his friends to get some rest too. And so you all strolled over the busy boulevard, further into town, until your ways parted halfway in the city. Sihtric's friends said goodbye to your friends and went to their hotel, while Sihtric kept his promise and walked you, and your friends, to your hotel. And once your friends had stumbled into the hotel and you had some time alone with Sihtric, you could finally wish each other a proper good night.

'Will I see you again?' you asked as you playfully poked his shoulder.

'I sure hope so,' Sihtric smiled and took both your hands, swaying them lightly, 'I can come and see you tomorrow after my training.'

'I'd like that,' you smiled shyly.

'Me too,' he chuckled, 'I can text you when I'm done?'

'Such a smooth way to ask for my number,' you laughed and gave him your phone, and you texted him immediately so he could save your number too, 'I'll see you tomorrow then.'

'Tomorrow,' Sihtric smiled as he towered over you, and he gave you a long and firm hug before he kissed your cheek and took a step back, 'good night, beautiful,' he almost whispered.

'Good night, pretty boy,' you smiled and turned on your heels, after reluctantly letting go of his hands.

You dragged your feet up the stairs to the entrance, purposely slowly, being aware that Sihtric was still watching you while he slowly backed away too. He kicked at nothing in particular as he stopped walking and kept his eyes on you, fighting a smile and the urge to call you back over to him. But he didn't want to smother you on the first night, so he kept his distance and decided to not try his chances. But you were disappointed and a little surprised that he didn't try to spend a few more seconds with you, so you stopped walking before you reached the hotel doors and turned around. You sighed and rolled your eyes, then looked at Sihtric as he stood at the bottom of the beige stairs, looking up at you.

'You're not even going to try and kiss me?' you scoffed with a smile.

'Well, I mean…,' Sihtric cleared his throat as he hesitated, but he then quickly jogged up the stairs.

He circled one arm around your waist to pull you in as he cupped your cheek with his free hand, and he planted his lips firmly onto yours, capturing you in what had to be the best first kiss you had ever received. Sihtric gently caressed your cheek as he nuzzled your nose slowly, then smiled against your lips before he kissed you several times more. His facial hair felt surprisingly soft against your skin, and you couldn't help but let your hands roam his muscular chest while you leaned into him, savouring the feeling and taste of his lips as he kissed you firmly once more. You felt his rapid heartbeat through his shirt, his pace matching your own. And yours skipped a beat when Sihtric kissed your temple before he took a step back, telling you he really had to leave now.

'Text me?'

'I promise,' Sihtric said softly and brought your hands up to his face, pressing a soft kiss to both your hands and then finally letting go of you, 'sweet dreams, darling.'

'Sweet dreams,' you barely whispered, your breath still stolen by the man you had only met several hours ago.

You never really expected Sihtric to text you. So when he suddenly sent you a voice memo only a few hours after you had kissed each other good night, you were surprised and almost shocked to say the least. Surprised that he texted you at three in the morning, and rather shocked at the message you heard once you clicked play.

'So,' Sihtric's voice sounded calm but with a hint of amusement, 'my friends just got arrested for being drunk in public. They got back to the hotel before I did, then decided to go for one more drink just as I came back. We met outside and I tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn't hear it. So, they went out and apparently got into a brawl that got out of hand and, well,' he laughed, 'they will have to sober up before they will be released.'

You instantly melted into a puddle by hearing Sihtric's voice. A voice so calm, gentle and soothing that it warmed your whole body, and you suddenly longed to feel his strong arms around you again. You texted him back, asking him if he still wanted to meet up tomorrow, and luckily for you his plans for after his training had never changed.

You spend the next afternoon with your girlfriends after waking up late. Your friends were dealing with their hangover while you were dealing with your mind constantly wandering to the rugby player. You checked your phone compulsively every few minutes, desperately wanting to see Sihtric's name pop up on your screen with a text or a call, but it remained rather quiet until it was four in the afternoon. Sihtric then texted you he had showered and was ready to meet up whenever you were. You felt bad about ditching your friends to go and see some guy you had only met the night before, but they were supportive and told you to go meet him. And little did you know that your friends already had made plans to meet up with Sihtric's friends; Finan, Osferth and Uhtred, the group who was arrested the night before.

You met Sihtric as he waited outside your hotel, casually leaning back against the old apricot coloured building across the street. You smiled as you walked up to him, for he looked so ridiculously handsome with his hair braided while he wore grey shorts with a matching shirt, his bronze hammer pendant making for a pleasant contrast as it rested upon his clothed chest. 

He greeted you with a flirty smile and pulled you in his arms immediately. He lightly brushed his lips over yours as he held your face with one hand, his other settled on the small of your back, while your hands found their way to his waist.

'Hey,' he murmured against your lips with a smile.

His warm breath touched your skin and snuck between your slightly parted lips, making you feel lightheaded and desperate for his kiss, which he wouldn't give you just yet.

'Hi,' you breathed, and a nervous chuckle escaped you.

Sihtric was even more handsome than you had remembered, which seemed impossible, but you suddenly felt too shy to speak. Sihtric sensed that, and enjoyed it, but to make an end to your silent suffering he decided to finally kiss you and give you the sweet satisfaction you had longed for ever since the night before. And he kissed you just as perfectly as that very first time; firm and passionate.

It was another warm day in Valencia, and Sihtric made you feel so much warmer without even trying. When you finally found your ability to speak again you agreed to just stroll around the city together for a bit. And so you did, walking hand in hand past some of the famous spots in town. The scenery made your walk almost enchanting, the old buildings making for a romantic backdrop whenever Sihtric kissed you or just looked at you with his love intoxicated eyes. There was no doubt that you were head over heels for each other already, as you finally got to know each other better while you went for some ice cream.

You enjoyed the cool refreshments on the beach, where you sat down in the sand and Sihtric pulled you in his lap. You talked for hours, about everything and nothing, and whenever you weren't talking you were kissing each other or caught up in each other's embrace while whispering sweet nothings. And as much as you wanted to stay with him, you knew you had to check in with your friends too, as did Sihtric. So you both agreed to meet up later in the evening again.

And just like the night before, Sihtric walked you back to your hotel. And the departure was just as sweet again, kissing each other endlessly on the large beige stairs while the sun was slowly setting, until you were finally able to reluctantly let go of each other. Even if it was just for a couple of hours.

While you were out with Sihtric, your friends had gotten even friendlier with his friends and finally told you they had been seeing them while you were out. You all laughed and joked how none of you had planned to even interact with a man on this trip, and yet here you were, all of you falling in love ridiculously fast with some rugby player from England. But with that knowledge came a new idea, and that's how you ended up having dinner with not just Sihtric a few hours later, but with all of yours and his friends too.

You all got along with each other, but it didn't take long before every couple would more or less retreat and go elsewhere to talk more privately. As did you and Sihtric, after saying goodbye to the few remaining friends and going for another nightly stroll over the pleasantly crowded boulevard.

'Wait,' Sihtric said after a moment and stopped walking, 'let me see you,' he smiled and spun you around while holding your hand.

You almost tripped over your heels while showing off your long red satin cocktail dress, but luckily Sihtric was quick to catch you in his arms, to which you both laughed.

'You look absolutely stunning,' he said softly and leaned in to kiss your lips.

'I thought I overdressed,' you chuckled.

'There's no such thing,' Sihtric reassured you.

'Well,' you laughed, 'you certainly didn't overdress.'

'What's wrong with my clothes?' he asked and threw up his hands as he looked down at his outfit, the same he wore earlier that day.

'Nothing, I'm just teasing,' you smiled.

'Teasing, huh?' Sihtric smiled as he took your hand and pulled you towards him.

'What? I'm not allowed to tease you?' you asked with a cheeky grin.

Sihtric scoffed with a smile and shook his head lightly, then looked down into your eyes as he towered over you, holding your face gently while he had one arm circled around you. He licked his lips slowly before biting down on his lower lip, and he hummed softly, the sound of it causing your knees to weaken.

'All you've been doing is tease me,' Sihtric whispered, his lips touching yours as he spoke, 'you think that's fair?' he asked playfully.

'Well, you never told me to stop,' you shrugged, your hands mindlessly caressing his sides.

'Yeah, well,' Sihtric murmured against your lips, 'maybe I don't want you to stop.'

'Well,' you giggled softly and gently nudged his nose with yours, 'then what's the problem?'

'I never said there was a problem,' he smiled and lightly flicked his tongue against your lips, 'did I?'

'I don't know,' you breathed, your hands sliding under his shirt, 'did you?'

'I didn't,' Sihtric whispered, then allowed his hand to slide down your buttocks, and he grabbed you firmly as he kissed you deeply and needy for a long moment.

He took a slight step back, not breaking the kiss but sliding his own hands up his shirt to grab your hands and pull you with him, towards the border where the beach began and the boulevard ended.

'Wait,' you gasped, 'I can't get on the beach with these shoes-'

Sihtric picked you up in his arms before you could even finish your sentence, and he carried you onto the darkened and rather deserted beach. He soon found a spot next to the beach's changing cabins, a place more or less sheltered from view, and he pulled you down next to him in the sand as he laid down. And you kissed there for hours, while the waves crashed lightly in the distance and the clear night sky above you grew even darker.

'What time do you have to leave tonight?' you asked after a while of just laying in his arms.

'Doesn't matter,' Sihtric said, 'we have a day off tomorrow, that means no training, so I have no plans of leaving yet,' he then turned so he could face you, 'unless you want me to leave?'

'No,' you whispered and caressed his scarred cheek as your nose almost touched his, 'I don't want you to leave.'

'Good,' Sihtric smiled and placed his hand on your neck, circling your lips with his thumb, 'because I don't want to leave either,' he whispered and kissed you softly.

'I never want this to end,' you said, a little saddened when the reality hit you again that neither of you lived permanently in the Spanish city.

'Neither do I,' he said, 'because I swear… you are the lady of my dreams.'

You couldn't help but smile at his words, forgetting about the harsh truth immediately.

'Darling,' Sihtric continued, 'you enamour me entirely. Trust me when I say I won't let this end easily.'

'I hope you won't.'

'I hope you won't either.'

'I won't,' you smiled, 'but… maybe we should go back to the hotel? It's late already.'

'Yours or mine?'

'Doesn't matter.'

'We'll go to yours,' Sihtric said, 'I've seen it from the outside several times, now I want to know what the inside looks like.'

'It's nothing spectacular,' you warned him as you got up.

'It's already spectacular because you'll be there,' he smiled and picked you up in his arms again, carrying you back to the boulevard.

There was barely any time for talking once you arrived in your modest hotel room. As soon as the door closed, you and Sihtric began to pull each other's clothes off while you kissed and stumbled through the room until you both landed on the bed, completely naked.

Sihtric knew how to please you as if he had known you forever, finding all the right spots with his fingers while he kissed you deeply to silence your moans and gasps. One look around the place was enough to tell anyone that those walls were thin, but you couldn't have cared less about who heard you while you were at the mercy of a man like Sihtric.

He made you reach your high twice with just his hands alone as he kissed you and left marks in your neck with his teeth and lips. And you returned the favour by pleasing him with your mouth, enjoying how you could easily make him obey you like that if you wanted to, but you weren't going to dominate him. Not tonight, at least. And so you allowed him to cum, for the first time that night, in your mouth and you swallowed it like a 'Good girl,' as he called you with ragged breaths afterwards. And shortly after that you find yourself laying back on the bed. With his beautiful face between your thighs, marking up your delicate skin as he kissed and gently bit his way up to your most precious parts. Only to look up at you as he kissed your sweet spot so tenderly before going delving into you and making you climax for a third time, while your hands had untangled his previously braided hair in the process.

And he kissed you deeply as he held you tightly in his arms, under the thin sheets of your hotel bed, granting you the time to recover before he would finally allow himself the pleasure of making love to you. Which he did, until you both finished while moaning and desperately calling out numerous obscenities. You clawed at the sheets, your legs on Sihtric's broad shoulders as he leaned in, while fucking through both your highs, so he could capture you in the most passionate and sloppy kiss you ever had. And after you both collapsed on the bed, exhausted and overstimulated but satisfied beyond words, you fell asleep in each other's embrace and slept until late the next morning.

And that's when you woke up with your body still aching pleasantly from the night before, and were surprised to see your passionate lover was still sleeping peacefully next to you.

And the next morning, after you both showered and managed to cover up all the love bites you had left each other, Sihtric took you out for brunch and invited you to come to the rugby match he would be playing a few days later.

You continued to meet up whenever you could as the days continued to pass, and only at the rugby match you understood that Sihtric was a professional rugby player, and didn't just do it as a hobby. He earned his money with it, as did his friends, and from what your friends told you about the dates they had with them, it seemed that they all earned quite a nice amount to live more than comfortably with. But you had already fallen in love with Sihtric, so you didn't care about his profession or the money he made, you were just there to show your support. And Sihtric appreciated that more than he could explain, and you felt proud as you watched his team win that day.

In the days that followed you also continued to stay in close contact with Sihtric, and you found yourself in either of your hotel rooms almost every night. Each night was as passionate as the first time you were intimate, and it went without saying that this wasn't just a quick holiday fling anymore. But the truth was that your holiday was coming to an end, with your flight back to England departing tomorrow early afternoon. Which meant you had to say goodbye to Sihtric and not know if you'd ever see him again, despite the fact that he lived in England too. And as fate would have it, he had to go to training tomorrow morning, so he couldn't stay the night with you no matter how much he wanted to.

'Ironic how it rains tonight,' you said gloomily as you stood on the familiar beige stairs of your hotel, which were darker than usual tonight, 'the whole time we've been here it was always warm and sunny. And now it's chilly and rainy.'

Sihtric pushed his loose wet hair out of his face as he looked down at you, holding you in his arms for what he feared could be the last time.

'The gods feel my sadness,' Sihtric said with a soft sigh, and he took your face in his hands, 'let me look at you, darling,' he smiled sadly, 'I want to remember you.'

'Please,' you said and choked up, 'don't forget about me.'

'I won't, trust me I won't,' he said as the rain continued to pour down, 'you captured my heart and soul, darling. I won't forget about you. And I already told you I wasn't going to let this end easily.'

'Promise you will call me? Or text me?' you asked, a glimmer of hope visible in your eyes.

'I promise,' Sihtric smiled and lightly pinched your cheek before he kissed your forehead, 'I promise, love, I will call you and text you until you get sick of me and block my number.'

You both laughed for a moment, but your sadness took over again once you looked back up in his big mismatched eyes.

'Here,' Sihtric said and took off his Mjölnir necklace, 'hold onto this for me,' he placed the black cord with the bronze pendant around your neck, 'I'll come and pick it up as soon as I can, okay?'

You sniffled and clutched the warm pendant in your cold hands, then looked up at him again and nodded with a faint smile.

'Don't cry,' Sihtric whispered and kissed your lips, 'please don't cry,' he cupped your cheeks, 'I promise, darling, I promise this is only the beginning for us.'

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Operation Exemies to Lovers | Cregan Stark

A/N: Now yall know i have not written and finished a fic in a hot minute so sorry if this reads a bit wonky. Yk I'm an enemies to lovers and exes to lovers girl, so why not combine them both into a modern!cregan stark fic? Also, this is dialogue heavy as that's kind of my thing, if it's not yours, welpt keep scrolling boo I aint mad!. I also fixed the inc*st family tree so you'll see that in this as well (i'll prob keep it for future modern AUs). Anyways lmk what you think and enjoy! Also, I suck at summaries so I pull quotes from my fics, sorry not sorry pookies

Summary: “So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-f*ck it out”

Warnings: cussing, spelling and grammar errors (sue me!), kissing, mentions of smut/allusions to smut but no smut, arguing, Alyssane Blackwood slander (sorry girl), somewhat mean!reader, this is an AU where Aegon's not a bad guy!!!! just a clown <3, mentions of an ill parent, Baela be hitting Aegon (he earned it!), Aemond is still missing an eye sorry to the Aemond girls

Word Count: 6.4k (period I stuck to keeping it short and sweet)

Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

“He’s staring at you again” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, doing your best to focus on highlighting the passages about the few Westerosi Civil Wars that had happened centuries ago. It was already difficult enough to focus in the crowded library, midterms were killing everyone. 

It wasn’t a shock for the once quiet and almost empty library to be packed, especially with student athletes who were desperately catching up on their studies in attempts to pass all of their midterms, write endless essays, and practically beg their professors for extra credit via email. 

You should’ve been able to focus on the task at hand, studying with your best friends Baela and Rhaena for your upcoming history midterm, the exam itself would focus heavily on the several majors wars that shaped westerosi society as a whole, and would even include the transition from government leadership as a monarchy into a democracy. 

Hell you’d even have to describe what was once known as the ‘Iron Throne’ and its historical significance. Truthfully the large metal hunk of junk was now sitting in the King’s Landing Red Keep Memorial Museum.

Usually the library was the easiest place for the three of you to study, it wasn’t as loud as your fourth floor flat in one of the student apartment buildings off campus, it was usually pretty clean and well kept, plus every resource you could possibly need was somewhere within the large building. 

However today, your usually comfortable red leather-lined chair felt stiff and was making you hot, not to mention the lack of air flow and increased temperature due to the amount of body heat on each floor, then the lights were either too bright or too dim, and all you wanted to do was slam the books shut, grab your laptop and leave.

“Let him stare.” you muttered as you tried to keep your gaze on the text in front of you, however it was getting increasingly difficult as a very specific pair of eyes were practically burning a hole into your side. 

Gods, he was so obnoxious.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for you to hold onto the grudge against him, of course he totally earned it! I’m not downplaying your emotions but anytime he’s around you stiffen up like a virgin afraid of dick” your jaw dropped at Baela’s words, now staring at her, brows furrowed in shock.

“Baela! You can’t say things like that” Rhaena almost immediately swatted at her sister’s arm, shaking her head before tucking one of her loose locks behind her ear. “You really take after father sometimes.” 

Baela simply shrugged, glancing back at the two tables that were usually empty, now they were filled with six of the school’s hockey players, all spread apart with a plethora of books, laptops, pens, and notepads covering the tables. That’s also not counting all of their bags laying on the floor besides their chairs. 

“I get that you two broke up on not so good terms, but you should be showing him that you don’t care about him! Not that he makes you so angry you’re about to explode like a bomb in Mario Party”.

With that Baela turned her gaze back to her laptop, however at the sound of several texts chiming in at once to both Baela and Rhaena’s phones, you knew that their cousins had texted them once again. It made sense that they’d all shared a group chat, especially considering how close in age they were, and how large the Targaryen/Hightower/Velaryon family was. 

Of course the first time Baela had broken down their family tree you were incredibly confused. Her mother Laena Velaryon was married to Daemon Targaryen, who happened to be the uncle to her cousins Jace, Luke, and Joffrey’s mother Rhaenyra. 

Now, Rhaenyra was married to Dr. Strong (or just Harwin as he’d asked you to call him once at a family gathering you’d been invited to, to which you quickly declined as he was your Literature professor), but based on the Targaryen’s political status within Westeros, their sons took their mother’s last name, not their father. 

Then comes Aegon and Aemond, now truthfully you’d met Aegon your second week of classes a few years ago when he’d caught you off guard, asked for your number, then got mad when you’d ghosted him after finding out he had a girlfriend! (Shame on him, truly). But you actually ended up being pretty good friends with the goof. 

Anyways, Aegon and Aemond were the children of Rhaenyra’s best friend, and now sister-in-law Alicent Hightower who married Rhaenyra’s only brother Baelon Targaryen. 

It’s also important to remember that throughout this entire family tree, which was in fact drawn out on construction paper for you, Alicent and Baelon also had two other children, Daeron and Halaena, both of them attending Sunspear University together. Then of course Rhaenyra and Dr.Strong (Harwin), have two much smaller sons, Aegon and Viserys, which was even more confusing considering you’d already met an Aegon.

Rhaena and Baela shared a look, and it was a look that worried you, so of course instead of being rational and brushing it off, you clenched your jaw as you slowly turned around, making eye contact with none other than your ex-boyfriend who’d been leaning his head against his hand and staring at you with what could only be described as a mournful lovesick expression.

You rolled your eyes, quickly turning back around before anyone else would look at you and do something that would probably piss you off. 

It also didn’t help that the cousins texting Baela and Rhaena were also seated at the table with your ex boyfriend. 

“Jace said that Cregan wants to talk to you but you blocked him, I don’t think you want to know what Aegon said, but it involved an eggplant emoji and a bed” you rolled your eyes, letting out a deep sigh while sitting up straight and shaking your head.

“He’s apologized a million times and has yet to tell me why he decided to go out of his way to not only break things off with me and tell me he still loved me in the same damn sentence, then go out the same night and end up on Aegon-Aegon of all people’s instagram story sucking face with that Blackwood bitch while she was on his lap.” 

You let out a cynical laugh of sorts, rolling your eyes once again. 

“Tell Cregan Stark that I’d rather fuck Aegon after one of his alley-way vomit sprees than ever talk to him again” however, before you could focus back on your studies, an amused laugh came from behind you before the chair next to you was pulled out, only for you to meet the gaze of Aegon Targaryen himself, a lopsided smile on his face with his brows wiggling in a playful suggestive manner.

“Well if I knew the easiest way to get you into my bed was to go drinking until I’m sick then I would’ve invited you out sooner baby” with that he leaned closer while making kissing noises, only to be met with your hand shoving his face away.

“Aeg, for the last time, she doesn’t want you like that” he feigned hurt at Rhaena, sliding back into the chair with his hand over his heart. 

“You wound me dear cousin! You wound me!” then he sat up straight, now looking back at you “so I was sent over here as a trusted messenger. My boy back there, you know him quite well, if y’know what I mean-” he wiggled his eyebrows up and down again, then you shoved him “-anyways, Cregan has been like all sulky and heartbroken and he really misses you. And he doesn’t want anything to do with Alysanne! She came onto him!, so can you give him another shot?”

With that you simply shook your head, quickly packing your things up while scoffing. 

“Tell your “boy back there”-” you spoke with air quotations “-that if he really gave a fuck about me, he shouldn’t have dumped me after two years for no god damn reason, then fucked that Blackwood bitch-who by the way is a fucking whore!” 

Your outburst was met with the looks of many, Rhaena quickly clearing her throat watching as you packed your things away. “What she means to say is, she doesn’t want to talk to him. I think it’s too fresh still”

Aegon scoffed “it’s been four months people! Four months! The summer ended, it’s a new semester, I think she can talk to him now” he glanced around the table, eyes widening as he watched Baela grasp quite the hefty textbook while glaring at him.

“Baela don’t hit me! I’m just saying! Listen-” but before he could finish you’d already gotten up and mumbled that you’d see them at home while you walked away.

Aegon paused, watching as you walked away, blatantly checking you out for a few moments, then you’d disappeared. He then turned around and motioned for someone to come to the table, this is what led both Jace and Luke to walk across the room and now sit where you were sitting and in the last empty seat of the table.

“Listen, we’re all tired of being caught in the middle of this awkward divorce alright. So we came up with a plan!” Baela shook her head while Rhaena sighed slightly.

“No offense Aeg, but your plans are always horrible, need I remind you of Aemond’s missing eyeball?” Luke winced slightly, remembering the day he’d accidentally hit Aemond in the eye with a firewood poker when swinging it behind him.

Truthfully, Luke had no idea Aemond had entered the room when he and Aegon were ‘dueling’ one another, however he’d felt his poker hit something, and he heard Aemond’s loud scream of pain. 

They’d all been kids when that happened, and to make it worse it occurred on their grandfather’s birthday when everyone had traveled to King’s Landing for a large birthday dinner/family holiday.

“She’s got a point there Aegon, but-guys-we all came up with the idea together!” Luke placed his hands on the shoulder of his cousin and his brother, smiling widely while Baela and Rhaena both shook their heads in disappointment.

“Okay, you win, but if the idea is bad, Baela’s going to smack Aegon with that textbook, so pray it’s not bad” they all nodded, Aegon scooting back slightly.

“So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-fuck it out”

He paused to take a quick breath “But we can’t let them in on the plan, otherwise Cregan’s gonna be all like ‘oh my god no she hates me, the love of my life hates me I can’t torture her, blah blah blah, I’m so nice and honorable, blah blah’ and she’s gonna be like ‘fuck that, I’ll kill him for fucking that Blackwood bitch and dumping me for no god damn reason’. Also I don’t think he ever fucked Alysanne-but I did-niether here nor there though!” 

Jace and Luke looked at Baela and Rhaena as if they were waiting to be yelled at by their mother, meanwhile Aegon smiled and nodded after his long winded explanation.

Rhaena spoke first “y’know honestly, your impression of her is pretty spot on.” Baela nodded her head in agreement before adding in “but if this doesn’t work, and she finds out, she’ll want to kill all of you and Cregan. I’m sure you all have realized being on her shit list isn’t exactly the best”

Jace nodded, glancing back at Cregan who was finally focusing on his statistics work with a stoic expression on his face. “Listen, if it doesn’t work and she kicks our asses that’s fine, but we at least have to try! I mean come on Rhae you told me that she cries over him still! And he’s no better. There might not be tears but he’s so long winded and mopey”

He then sighed, patting Luke on the back “I think this is our best shot. I mean c’mon they’re some of your guys' closest friends, and Winterfell over there’s my best friend that I’m not related to-oddly enough they’re pretty rare these days. They used to be so happy together! Now look at them both”

Baela sighed, nodding her head as she finally set the books in her hands down “she’s definitely not really herself anymore. Maybe if it doesn’t work, then at least they’ll both get closure from their relationship”.

Aegon smiled, nodding rapidly again “see! You guys get it!. Also don’t tell Aemond either, y’know he’s too ‘I’ve got a stick up my ass’ sometimes. We can call it operation-uh what’s the book trope that Helaena called it again-one second everyone!” he paused, grabbing his phone from his pocket before quickly calling his sister.

“Hey Hel, yeah yeah I’m good, what did you call that book again! The one where they were like forced to be around eachother then fuck it out and get married and shit?” 

Several hundred miles away, Helaena was grasping her nose bridge as she let out a deep sigh, her brother truly was a character.

“Oh-okay! Got it-thanks so much Hel, love you too! Give Daeron my love and remind him to wrap it up with those Dornish baddies!” with that he hung up the phone before meeting Baela’s disgusted glare.

“You’re so gross, Aeg. And stop saying the word baddies-you sound so cringey!” he simply shrugged at her.

“Anyways, now that we’re done being rude and judgemental to our baddie eldest cousin who’s super smart, funny, and beautiful, we’ll call it operation enemies to lovers!” 

Rhaena raised a brow “wouldn’t it actually be exes to lovers? Since they’re exes? I guess they might also be enemies based on the way she wants to wring his neck-and not how she used to-” with that her eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Jace sighed “don’t worry Rhae, we already know about the shit he let her do to him. Young love, what can I say” 

Aegon nodded his head, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively once again, then he slightly elbowed Luke, who met his gaze with a laugh before they both spoke in unison “kinky innit”.

“Anyways-are we doing this or not? I’ve got a history midterm to study for and you three are interrupting it, and it’s bad enough that Aegon already made the smartest person we know leave” It was clear that Baela was losing her patience.

“Oh come on Bales! Y’know if you’re still interested I can set you up with ol Benji over there, heard he’s a freak in the she-” there it was, the book smacking him in the face “-ow Baela! Jesus! You’re just like your dad! Mean and ever so beautiful to look at” he winked.

“Gross man, she’s our cousin!” he shrugged “didn’t stop our ancestors, okay fine-fine! I didn’t mean it okay! Shit. you all are so violent. The blood of the dragon I guess”.

-

Three days have passed and the TarVelTower group chat had been in constant communication about ‘operation exemies to lovers’ with the additional confused replies from those that were not present in the library that day.

They were planning a game night, it was something they’d all done in the past, inviting their other friends to come along as well for drinks and a night of utter tomfoolery. Baela and Rhaena had done everything but swear on the Old Gods themselves that Cregan wouldn’t be there, meanwhile Jace, Luke, and Aegon had to practically beg Cregan to come to Jace’s for the game night.

It was also a plus that most of them lived in the same building. Dragonstone University wasn’t that large, not compared to other schools such as Sunspear, Driftmark, or even Harrenhall-although it was rumored that Harrenhal U was in fact haunted, that’s probably what brought so many to the school in the first place.

Baela and Rhaena had to drag you out of your bed after your post-class nap and usher you into the shower, stating that you ‘stunk of outside’, which was rather rude considering your only classes today were virtual. 

They’d mentioned the game night several times, and each time you asked if Cregan would be there, they’d said no, which you found a bit odd considering Jace was literally his best friend and probably closest confidant. Maybe his father had come down from Winterfell again, but you were thankful that he wouldn’t be present to ruin your mood.

All you had to do was take the elevator up two floors, so all you did was shower and throw on a pair of sweats and one of Aegon’s many discarded team sweatshirts. It had his number on it and even after washing it what felt like a million times, it still smelled like his overly strong cologne that he claimed ‘the ladies love’.

He’d also told you that maybe you were an ogre for not loving it, which of course even further solidified your friendship with the moron (lovingly).

You took time to braid your hair, knowing that you’d probably wake up hungover without a want or a need to brush it, so this was just easier. Then you’d foregone makeup, knowing you truly didn’t care how people saw you, especially not your friends. 

Of course the one thing you’d always contemplated wearing sat on your desk, the thin gold chain adorned with a small charm in the shape of a howling wolf. It was as if it sat mocking you because almost everyday you’d stare at it while getting ready.

You’d worn it everyday for a year after Cregan gifted it to you. He randomly showed up at your door one day, slightly out of breath, a wide smile on his face with his disheveled hair pulled back. One hand rubbed against his short beard, while the other held a small black gift bag. He looked as if he’d run here, then was contemplating the decision to run in the first place.

Then he’d kissed you gently, a smile you rarely wore now, adorned your face then.

When you invited him in, he was quick to follow, shutting and locking your door behind him while you made your way to the small kitchen, grabbing him something to drink as he caught his breath.

Then as you spun around to hand him the drink, he held the bag out for you, practically forcing you to open it (it wasn’t forceful at all, rather when you declined opening it immediately, he didn’t hesitate to place the strings of the bag between his teeth before picking you up, then plopping you down onto the couch, soft giggles leaving your lips when he climbed right on top of you.).

You remembered him watching as you opened it, he held himself up overtop you, while you easily pulled the small jewelry box out of the packaging, then when you opened it he looked almost nervous, as if you wouldn’t like it.

But you’d kissed him, pulling him down into your lips, thanking him between rushed kisses. 

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it before grasping the necklace and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. Out of sight, out of mind, you’d tell yourself-until you’d go looking for a pen and see it again.

Rhaena’s voice knocked you out of your thoughts completely, she stood in your doorframe, her posture a little too straight, which would’ve normally thrown you off, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when you were trying to shake off the feeling of heartbreak.

“You ready? I’ve got the snacks already packed to bring up, you’ve just got to grab our blankets. Baela’s already there helping set up. Aeg said he’d give her twenty bucks if she’d actually arrive earlier than him for once” you laughed at that, shaking your head slightly.

It was no secret that Aegon and Baela were incredibly competitive, and as cousins, they had what could only be described as a sibling rivalry, always trying to one up one another when they could, and making stupid bets over random things.

You actually liked that they were all so close, when you’d befriended Rhaena, you never thought that she and her sister would come with a large family that would welcome you in with open arms.

“Yeah, just, let me-um-get my shoes, yeah my shoes. Sorry” you were mumbling and stuttering as you walked to the shoe rack beside your door, slipping your feet into your fuzzy slippers before following Rhaena to the living room, grasping the small pile of throw blankets before the both of you left your apartment. She was quick to lock the door, then you both headed upstairs.

You were still technically early when you arrived, and as you entered the apartment Aegon was handing Baela a $20 bill, while she smirked. Luke was laying on one of the couches on his phone, Jace was putting drinks in the fridge with the help of Benji who honestly looked happy to be there. Meanwhile Aemond sat reading whatever random philosophical book he’d chosen for the week, and to your surprise, Helaena was pulling what smelled like cookies out of the oven.

“Hel! You’re here!” she smiled when she saw you, placing the tray down before meeting your embrace. “Yea, I actually was visiting my parents and Aegon picked me up earlier.” you smiled at that, you enjoyed her company, even if it was a rare occurrence. 

By the time everyone was settled in, around forty-five minutes had passed, and everything was nice. For the first time in a while you weren’t on edge, which was definitely noticeable, and you’d actually managed to relax into the large bean bag below you. Even if it did remind you of a certain someone.

Then, it was as if you’d summoned the asshole himself.

Jace was quick to shoot up and walk to the door, glancing at his phone nervously. Then he opened the door, nervously laughing for a few moments.

Then you spotted him. Not before Aegon, who was already tipsy, had managed to shoot up from his spot on the ground “Cregan! Glad you could make it man!”.

Baela and Rhaena watched as you let out a deep sigh, it was clear you didn’t want to ruin the night, so you simply turned to face away from the door, burying yourself further into the bean bag, covering yourself in the throw blanket as much as you could.

It’s important to mention that the bean bag happened to be big enough for two people, and for a long time, it’s where you would sit with Cregan, well technically, given his size, you’d be cuddled up together, and now, as his gaze found you ignoring him on that bean bag, the gloomy cloud that followed him around had resurfaced.’

After a few tense moments of silence, everyone commenced what they were doing.

Aegon, still standing, held up a deck of cards.

“For today’s game night we’re gonna need to partner up! Rhaena, you’re with me tonight! I need your smarticle particles!” you blinked slowly, Rhaena was usually your partner. Then you sat in silence as you watched everyone partner up.

Baela was shoved into Benji-literally shoved by Aegon. 

Aemond chose Luke as he stated their team needed “balance”, which actually made a lot of sense considering Aemond was always somewhat brooding, and Luke was a ray of sunshine.

Jace glanced between Helaena and Cregan, but when Baela shot him a pointed look-missed completely by you-he chose Helaena.

Which of course left you with the one person you wanted nothing to do with.

Rhaena tried breaking the ice, watching as Cregan awkwardly sat in the armchair beside the beanbag. “It looks like our old winning team is back together!” you were the first to scoff.

“Hey! They used to cheat!” you couldn’t stop yourself from responding to Aegon “actually he waited until we broke up for that”. As you spoke, everyone’s eyes widened, meanwhile you remained in your spot, staring at your phone, mindlessly scrolling through instagram.

However, as good of a guy that Cregan Stark is, you were the only person that was ever able to bring a different side out of him. You two rarely fought, but when you did, it was almost catastrophic and usually ended in very rough sex, or a heartwarming apology after ignoring one another for a few days. 

But you’d never broken up, you both took time to cool off in whatever way you needed.

Things are different now.

“For the last time, she came onto me! I’ve told you this thousands of times!” As he raised his voice, the frustration in his tone was evident, and his accent sounded thicker than usual-a key indicator that he was upset. So instead of backing down, you scoffed, now looking at him, fury evident on your features. 

“Yeah because a man your fucking size was so easily overpowered by her right! She just waltzed right up to you and beat you into submission or something?! Oh fuck you Cregan!” 

The two of you held eye contact, anger and frustration evident.

Aegon slowly sat down, leaning towards Jace and whispering “I think it’s working”, meanwhile Jace shook his head, having been witness to the few fights that you’d actually had with Cregan in the past.

“What would you have wanted me to do, I was shitfaced! Was I supposed to shove her to the ground and tell her to go fuck herself?!” you nodded your head at that, now sitting up, even closer to him than before. He stared down at you as you stared up at him.

“Yeah actually, that’s the best fucking idea I’d say you’ve ever had!” he scoffed.

“We weren’t even together and you hold that against me! Still!” That's what sent you over the edge.

“You fucking dumped me for no god damn reason, told me you loved me, and then went and fucked that Blackwood Bitch! The same fucking day! As if I meant nothing to you, we were together for two years Cregan! Two fucking years!” 

He heard the crack in your voice, everyone did. As you stared at him, he could see the way your eyes glossed over, he knew you too well. He knew the tears were coming.

“I tried to talk to you-you didn’t wanna hear anything!” you shrugged, gathering your things as fast as you possibly could, now looking anywhere but him.

“You don’t fucking deserve to talk to me you asshole”. Then you stood up and did what you always do in these situations, you ran away and left.

He was left there in shock, staring at the door, jaw clenched while he watched you leave. 

“Well that’s one way to start a game night” 

“Aegon shut up!” cue the smack “Ow! Baela! Stop hitting me! Go hit Benji, he likes that shit!-ow! Seriously?! Jace and Luke, get your cousin!”

Then in unison “she’s your cousin too!”

And finally, Benji piped up “is she talking about my cousin?” 

Instead of watching you waltz away, Cregan stood up, grabbing his things and mumbling his own apologies. Then he left, he knew exactly where you lived, so instead of taking the elevator, he rushed down the stairs, trying to cool off. 

When he stood in front of your door, it felt like a routine, something his body was so used to. As if this was muscle memory for him.

Then he knocked, once. No response. 

Twice. Nothing. 

Three times-maybe third times a charm. Nothing.

He stood there, his forehead leaned against the door. Cregan Stark was not a man of regrets, hell he prided himself on actually being a good guy, he was raised to be respectful, to be kind, to be strong, Stark men were not assholes. They weren’t childish, they weren’t selfish, they were supposed to be honorable in every way.

But here he is, leaning against his ex-girlfriend’s door, still in love with her, full of regret for ever breaking things off. He hadn’t even explained himself. He wanted to-he’d tried that day, but you stormed out, tears that he’d caused flowing down your cheeks. 

Then he felt the door shift, and you stood there, wrapped in the same blanket, eyes red as you stared up at him.

Gods, all he wanted to do was tell you he loved you, that he needed you, that you made him feel whole.

“I don’t have any fight left in me Cregan. It’s been months, why can’t you just leave me alone.” 

“Because I love you.” you sighed, shaking your head “no you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have left me.” 

Sure you might’ve been being dramatic, but truthfully, you’d been heartbroken for months, following your breakup you’d lost ten pounds in two weeks. You’d never felt worse, and now, you were starting to feel alright, but it was no secret that there had been many nights full of tears, hugging a sweatshirt that you’d never washed, hoping to preserve the smell of his cologne.

“Can you just fucking listen to me for five minutes, please, I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long, just please-let me talk to you” you shrugged.

“Why?” he blinked a few times, taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair-hair that you used to always touch, forcing him to sit between your thighs while you braid his hair, laughing when he’d complain, or when he’d do poses for you after you’d finished.

“I love you, I’ve never stopped loving you, I go to sleep at night and my dreams are filled with you, your smile, your laugh, even your fucking frowns. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. My heart fucking yearns for you. I can still feel the way you used to hold me, the way your breath felt against my neck, Gods, I think about you 24/7! I think about everything that I did, the way that I screwed up-I screwed us up. I love you! I’ll scream it from the fucking rooftops if that’s what you want!” 

You didn’t bother wiping away your tears, instead you stepped aside, leaving room for him to come in.

“You want to talk then talk.”

Then he walked inside, and shut the door the same way he used to. 

It truly was muscle memory, the way he walked to the couch and sat down in the same spot he was always in, then he waited for you.

He watched as you slowly sat next to him, still wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito-Gods he spent too much time around Aegon. He didn’t hesitate to wipe the tears from under one of your eyes with his thumb, repeating the action on the other cheek.

“I didn’t want to break up with you. I never wanted to break up with you. My father’s-well he’s sick at home, I was going to leave, go back to Winterfell to take care of him, to take care of everyone. I just-I didn’t want you to be alone here, and I didn’t want to be your long distance boyfriend that you only ever see on fucking facetime. I just-I couldn’t do it.” 

You were silent, watching as he broke slightly, his voice cracking at the mention of his father, then at the mention of you being alone. 

It was no secret that Cregan and his father were close, you’d met Rickon Stark twice, and each time he’d embraced you with open arms and a warm heart. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he shrugged.

“Because, I’m supposed to be strong, I’m supposed to know my duty to my family, I’m supposed to be there for them, and it was hard-hard to say that I had to leave you for an unknown amount of time. I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to go a day without seeing you, you make me crazy in the best way, even now, whenever I see you on campus my heart practically flies out of my chest. Seeing you at my games, you’re like a ghost haunting me.” 

You slowly nodded, listening to him, watching the way he’d blink away his tears, the way his brows would furrow and jaw would clench slightly. 

“My dad’s the one who told me to stay. Told me not to throw my future away, that he’d be alright, y’know he’s a fighter-always has been. Told me to get my girl back-” he let out a small chuckle, the laugh laced in sadness “-but I think she doesn’t want me back. I went back up after we split up, just for a week, and he told me I was an idiot to leave it all behind. A full ride to Uni if I kept playing hockey? The girl of my dreams? Called me a bloke before he told me that he’s okay, he’s not letting go anytime soon” 

Cregan hadn’t been looking at you, he was focused on his hands, fists clenching slightly as he tried to swallow his own emotions. He hadn’t noticed the way that you’d been inching closer, not until your arms were wrapped around him, head leaning against his shoulder.

“You could’ve just told me from the beginning. I would’ve been your facetime girlfriend y’know? Would’ve figured out a way up there”

The familiarity of it all was what made him break, a small sob leaving his lips while you held him. It didn’t take long for you to shove him further into the couch and climb into his lap, the same way you used to when all you wanted to do was be as close to him as possible.

You held him, sat atop one of his thighs, arms wrapped around his shoulders while he cried into your shoulder. His arms gripping your waist, holding you against him. 

This is what should’ve happened all those months ago.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch” he laughed at that, and you felt his small smile. Meanwhile you ran a hand through his hair, fingers dancing through the dark locks before slowly running against his scalp. Your other hand traced small circles against his shoulder blade, you missed this.

You missed him.

“You weren’t a bitch-I probably deserved that.” you scoffed, moving back slightly, now holding eye contact with him as you brushed his tears away. “I was a bitch, I was the biggest bitch ever.”

He smiled, shaking his head “She really did come onto me. I did push her off-” you shushed him “I know. I believe you, I just-I dunno. I was hurt, then I saw that and it just stayed with me. I figured you dumped me for someone else, someone better-” he cut you off with a kiss.

It was so gentle, so soft, so sweet. Then he pulled away “there’s no one better than you for me. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest. I just-I didn’t want to look weak and I didn’t want to leave you and-” you shushed him again, this time holding a hand against his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up Cregan Stark.” Your tone was light hearted as you shook your head “You’re not weak for having emotions, and you aren’t weak for wanting to care for those that you love. Don’t be stupid, we’ve both been stupid enough.” he nodded his head, then you slid her hand down, now caressing his face, your thumb lightly pulling on his bottom lip.

“I missed you” you smiled, a small giggle leaving your lips.

“Based on the way you stare, I could tell” he rolled his eyes “gotta commit your beauty to memory somehow” you slightly shoved his shoulder “you cornball!” 

“I missed you too loverboy”

Then you kissed him again, a slow, passionate kiss full of emotions, smiles, and even a few giggles. He then slid his hands under your sweatshirt, and you quickly pulled apart, letting him take it off, leaving you in just your bralette, then his lips were on yours again.

Before anything else could happen the front door swung open, startling you both, leading to Cregan’s grip against you tightening, meanwhile Aegon and Jace both hit the floor, while Luke stood there awkwardly, Rhaena shook her head, and Baela looked as if she was being held back by Benji. Meanwhile Helaena and Aemond were nowhere to be seen.

At least until they moved closer to the doorway, both of them shaking their heads and muttering “fucking Aegon” in unison.

“I told you guys it would work! Look at them! Kissing and close!” Aegon still spoke, even from the floor while Jace was on top of him. Then Jace slowly rolled off, letting out an ‘oof’. 

“Were you all eavesdropping?” Aegon blinked a few times at your question, glancing back at everyone else. Then you noticed the flush on Luke’s face and Rhaena’s awkward expression. Plus Jace was nodding his head. 

“Why did the Gods make him our brother?” Aemond shook his head “I truly do not know.” 

“So are you two back together now?” 

You sighed, standing up and grasping Cregan’s hand, pulling him towards your bedroom.

Cregan glanced back, still laughing at the scene “yes. Now please, fuck off mate”

With that you pulled him into your room and locked the door.

“They’re all the worst” he nodded his head at you, he’d expected you to pull him into your bed, however you walked towards your desk, rummaging through the different drawers until you found something. 

You glanced at him “can you help me with this”, while holding up the necklace.

“I’d be honored” you rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face while he walked over, taking the necklace then as gently as possible, clasping it around your neck. Then he left a line of open mouthed kisses from below your right ear, to the edge of your shoulder. 

“I love you” his voice was soft, a whisper, almost as if it was a secret shared between the both of you.

You smiled, spinning around, one hand now on his face, the other on the back of his neck, fingers tracing circles through his hair. “I love you too”

-

Taglist:

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aethelstan & sihtric / the last kingdom 5x05

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love ur writing! keep up the good work <33

-Cregan Stark x LannisterWife!Reader

Synopsis: {Your Lord husband seems to be the only one who can calm you}

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You were a comely girl, always have been so it was no surprise that the Lord Stark had taken an interest in you during his time in the Red Keep- in which you were sent by members of your house to try and get your family back into the good books of the people in the court.

A feat you weren’t so successful in, having been turned away by numerous people or called horrid things behind your back sometimes plainly to your face. Every day spent at court was a blow to your pride, and gods did it make you a bitter person.

Cregan Stark found entertainment in your company, through his blunt banter and snarky remarks the way in which you would come back at him with all your might. Before he knew it he was completely infatuated with you and made an offer you simply couldn’t refuse, leaving Kings Landing.

Sometimes you regret ever accepting the damn deal.

“Get any closer and you’ll set that pretty blonde hair of yours on fire.” His rough voice breaks through the silence from his place at the desk where he had been reading through a couple of letters.

You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to the flames that crackle and snap within the hearth just in spite at the sound of his chuckle. He watches you closely, marvelling at how the warm orangey light of the flames splay across your face making your hair glow like fine threads of golden silk.

“Perhaps if it weren’t so cold then I wouldn’t have to sit this close.” You huff, pulling his furs that you had stolen over your shoulders.

“Winterfell is built upon a hot spring, the castle is plenty warm you’re just looking for an excuse to whine.” He says and you can practically hear the smirk that tugs on his handsome face.

You don’t answer him, instead letting silence and the soft sounds of the fireplace overtake your shared bedchambers however your lack of response doesn’t deter Cregan from continuing.

“You should wear something warmer than silks and airy dresses, my sweet.” The words are laced with amusement, he leans forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, searching your unimpressed expression with his dark eyes.

“And wear dull shades greys?… no thank you.” You tell him, not wanting to accept the fact that perhaps there was slight truth to his words, still not meeting his gaze.

“So you’d rather freeze for the sake of what? Fashion? Very smart of you.” He replies sarcastically. “Especially for a Lannister, quite impressive my love.”

Your head snaps over to his direction, glaring up at him with narrowed eyes as he all but smirks back at you. He never failed to rile you up, bringing you to a burning point only to leave you all frustrated or worse— when he touches you in such a reverent way that makes you feel like a goddess, you couldn’t help but completely bend to his will. You swear he takes joy in bruising your pride.

He reaches over, brushing a curl of your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that he’s only ever shown to you and somehow just like that your anger ebbs away like snow underneath a summer's sun.

But you wouldn’t succumb that quickly and so you shrug off his hand, turning back to the fireplace with a small huff and he laughs because he knows- despite your little show- that he has you right where he wants you.

Cregan stands up from his chair, making his way over to a much more comfortable one that sits in front of the grand fireplace— closer to you. Despite how much you both clash at times he loves you, ever so dearly. He had defended you countless times back in Kings Landing and Winterfell, against anyone who dared try to speak poorly upon your name. Not just because of his marriage vows or honour, but because he sees you as you are not the hardened women the years had made of you.

There was a warmth to you, he’d seen it in glimpses. The way you care for his son as if he were your own, how you have your maids bring two cups of tea- one for him and one for you- to sate his sweet tooth.

You push yourself up from the floor, trying to distance yourself from him but he’s quick to catch your hips in his big hands. With a wolfish grin, he tugs you onto his lap and you accept defeat, it was too tiring to fight a man so headstrong.

“I’ll warm you up if you’re still cold.” He mumbles gruffly, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against his chest.

The warmth from his study body melts away the tension between your shoulder blades and you can’t help but sigh in contentment, leaning against him as he tugs you impossibly closer to him.

His hands caress the curve of your hips, looking up at you with a lazy smile. “I am still a little cold, I wouldn’t mind.” You reply playfully, trailing your fingertips along his cheek in small patterns.

“Ah, there she is…” Cregan whispers, relishing at the sight of your smile that you try so hard to fight off.

“Yes, yes, marvel whilst you can, it won’t last long.” The words make Cregan chuckle, his hands mapping out the outline of your body, caressing along your ribcage.

“Then I shall marvel with all my heart.” He promises, pressing a kiss against your shoulder, then another to your jaw. The wispy hairs of his beard tickle your skin as he nuzzles against you on purpose.

A pleasured hum escapes you by accident and by the way he smirks against your neck you can tell he’s holding back some sort of snarky comment, instead choosing to savour this moment and the way you lean into his touch.

He takes his time, showering your shoulders in kisses- trailing his lips up to the soft curve of your jaw and pushing the furs that drape over your shoulders off until they’re sitting on the floor leaving you in just a thin silky dress.

“What’s gotten you in such a mood, huh?” Cregan asks, leaning back against the cushioned sofa to really drink in the sight of you perched upon his lap.

You shrug your shoulders, lacing your fingers with his own. “I feel out of place, more so than often.” The words send an ache through his chest, his brows immediately furrowing at the confession.

It wasn’t a new thing for him to hear, however, that never made it any easier. Cregan remembers the first night you arrived in the North, the tears— gods, you were inconsolable. He understood why, the place was far from home and the people were hardened by the cold weather and then there was you… the complete opposite in every way, that’s why he spent all night whispering words of comfort and holding you.

“Silly girl, come here.” He says, coaxing you to lay against his chest and without hesitation, you curl up into him, your head resting on his shoulder as his fingers brush through your silken hair. “I’d have no one else by my side except you, my girl, understand?” He whispers, pressing a kiss against your hairline.

You nod against his shoulder, melting against him with a small sigh. “Mhm, of course, I do.” Your words are muffled against the soft fabric of his tunic, the smell of firewood and leather clinging to him- it was comforting, like home.

Cregan tilts your head upwards slightly, his gaze softening as he admires your face. “Don’t doubt the place you have in my heart… ever.” He tells you with a loving tone, so soft and caring, before leaning down to steal a delicate kiss from your lips.

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FUCKING DYING OVER HEREEEE

The Cold Embrace (2/2)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: As time passes, snow begins to melt.

- Paring: velayrion!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: @missisjoker So, here is the second and last part straight from the oven that was being baked all night. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you guys like this conclusion of this two part story.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 8 000+

- Previous part: 1/2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess @jellybeanstacey0519 @strengthandstay @anne-mary-1d

The crisp chill of autumn clung to the air, painting the landscape of Winterfell in muted shades of orange and gold. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, and the days had grown shorter, yet despite the changing season, little had thawed between you and Cregan Stark. The cold inside the walls of Winterfell seemed to mirror the tension that still lingered between the two of you, each day marked by stilted conversations and, more often than not, sharp exchanges.

Today was no different.

"You speak of duty as if it’s something noble," you spat, your voice tight as you stood across from Cregan in the courtyard, your cloak billowing in the wind. "But this—this life you’ve trapped me in—it’s a cage. You call it honor, but what is honorable about ripping me away from my family?"

Cregan, his expression as hard as the stone walls surrounding you, stood tall, arms crossed over his chest. The northern winds blew through the yard, stirring his dark hair as he met your gaze with his own unflinching one. "A cage? Is that what you see this as? I have given you more freedom than many would expect from a lord. You come and go as you please, and I have not demanded anything of you that you have not been ready to give."

"You think freedom means letting me roam these cold, barren lands?" you shot back, your voice rising. "I am a dragon, Cregan, not some northern wolf content with howling at the moon. I am bound to the skies, to fire and wind, and every moment I am here, I wither. You cannot understand that."

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with frustration. "I have done everything to make this a home for you," he said, his tone dangerously low. "But it’s clear that nothing will ever satisfy you. You’re too busy yearning for something you’ve lost to see what is right in front of you."

You scoffed, turning away from him, your steps hurried as you walked toward the godswood, needing space, needing air. "There is nothing here for me but snow and silence," you muttered, though you knew he heard you.

Cregan watched you go, his heart heavy as the weight of your words settled in. He stood there for a long moment, the wind tugging at his cloak, his expression unreadable. Inside, however, there was a storm brewing—a storm of disappointment, frustration, and something else, something deeper that he had been trying to deny for months.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he turned and made his way back into the keep, his mind racing with thoughts he could no longer ignore.

In the warmth of the solar, the fire crackled in the hearth, its light casting flickering shadows across the room. Grand Maester Kennet sat across from Cregan, his wise old eyes studying the lord with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"You’ve been quieter than usual, my lord," Kennet said, folding his hands in his lap. "Something weighs heavily on you."

Cregan leaned back in his chair, staring into the flames. He had kept his feelings bottled up for so long, unwilling to admit to anyone, let alone himself, how much this situation had affected him. But now, with the distance between him and you growing each day, the burden felt too great to carry alone.

"She doesn’t want to be here," Cregan said quietly, his voice rough with an emotion he rarely let show. "No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to make this place a home for her, she only sees Winterfell as a prison. She longs for Dragonstone. For her family."

Kennet nodded thoughtfully, his expression sympathetic. "It is not uncommon for one to yearn for the place of their birth, especially when it’s been taken from them. The Princess... she is like her mother, strong-willed and fierce. The North is a different world for someone raised among dragons and fire."

Cregan exhaled slowly, leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed a hand over his face. "I know that. I’ve known it since the day she arrived. But... there’s more. It’s not just that she can’t find a place here." He paused, his voice dropping, as if the words themselves were difficult to admit. "I care for her, Kennet. More than I thought I ever would. When Jacaerys first came to me, he spoke of her with such passion and admiration. He told me stories of her strength, her spirit, how she was a woman who could stand beside any man, even one like me. And I believed him. I admired her before I even met her."

The Maester listened in silence, his brow furrowed in thought as Cregan continued.

"And when she arrived," Cregan went on, his gaze distant, "I saw it. Everything Jacaerys said was true. She’s fierce, and proud, and... gods, she’s beautiful in her own way. But she looks at me like I’m the reason for all her misery, like I’ve taken something from her that she can never get back. She’ll never see me as anything but the man who keeps her from the life she wants."

Kennet sighed softly, shaking his head. "Love is a complicated thing, my lord. You cannot force it, nor can you expect it to bloom in a place of resentment. The Princess... she is grieving the life she left behind. She may yet come to see what you offer, but it will take time."

Cregan’s eyes flickered with doubt as he looked at the older man. "Time may be something we don’t have. The war brews in the South, and her family is at the heart of it. She feels trapped here while her brothers and mother fight for the throne. I’ve heard her speak of it—how the North is no place for dragons, how she feels as though she’s losing herself in the cold."

The Maester tilted his head, considering Cregan’s words carefully. "It is true that the North is no easy place for a soul like hers. But perhaps... perhaps if you can show her that she can still be who she is, even here, she might come to find her place."

Cregan stood from his seat, pacing the room, the weight of his frustration palpable. "How can I show her that when she refuses to let me in? Every time we speak, it turns into an argument. She doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t want to be here, and she certainly doesn’t want to be with me."

Kennet rose slowly, his hands resting on the table as he regarded Cregan with a calm, steady gaze. "Then you must be patient, my lord. If you truly care for the Princess, you will have to endure her fire, much like one endures the harshest winters. But winters pass, and even in the North, the snow melts. Perhaps in time, her heart will soften."

Cregan sighed deeply, staring into the fire once more. He wished it were as simple as waiting for the snow to melt, but as the days passed, he feared the rift between him and you was growing too wide to ever close.

He wanted you to see him, truly see him, not as the man who kept you here but as someone who could stand beside you, strong enough to weather the storm of your spirit. But until then, all he could do was wait.

And hope.

The halls of Winterfell buzzed with an unusual energy, a hive of activity that Cregan hadn’t expected so soon after the summer's end. The brisk wind of autumn howled through the open courtyards, and yet the chill in the air was not the only sign that winter was approaching. Men and women rushed through the keep, arms filled with supplies, voices rising in quick, urgent conversation.

Cregan furrowed his brow as he observed the flurry of work. His bannermen and servants seemed to be following orders, yet none had come directly from him. His curiosity piqued, he caught sight of one of his men, Ser Roland, directing a group of stable hands with a sense of urgency. Cregan made his way over, his long strides carrying him across the courtyard.

"Ser Roland," he called out, his deep voice cutting through the noise. "What’s all this about? I don’t recall ordering preparations for winter just yet."

Ser Roland turned quickly, bowing his head in respect before answering. "Lord Stark, it’s not your orders we’re following. The Princess has taken it upon herself to make sure Winterfell is ready for the long winter ahead. She’s been directing the stores, making changes to the rations, and ensuring that all livestock are accounted for."

Cregan’s brow lifted in surprise. "The Princess? I wasn’t aware she had taken an interest in such matters."

Ser Roland nodded, his expression a mixture of admiration and confusion. "Aye, my lord. She’s had us reorganize the grain stores and instructed that additional salt be used to preserve meats in case the winter lasts longer than expected. She also had some of the women gather herbs and berries for medicinal stocks—said it’s something her mother did on Dragonstone. Even ordered new tunnels to be dug beneath the walls, should the snow block access to certain parts of the keep. It’s... impressive."

Cregan was silent for a moment, taken aback by the level of thought and strategy that had gone into the preparations. The Princess, who had made it clear she despised this place, was ensuring it would withstand winter’s cruelty. And yet, she hadn’t spoken a word of it to him. His initial surprise gave way to a grudging respect.

"And where is she now?" Cregan asked, his tone more curious than demanding.

Roland hesitated before answering. "The Princess took to the skies a short while ago, my lord. She went flying on Silverwing."

"Flying," Cregan repeated, his brow furrowing. It wasn’t unusual for you to seek solace in the skies, but the flicker of worry began to creep in. "And who accompanied her?"

Roland shifted, his expression turning sheepish. "Your son, my lord. Young Rickon went with her."

Cregan stiffened, his heart quickening at the thought of Rickon riding atop Silverwing. His instinct was to feel alarmed—to think of all the things that could go wrong with a boy so young riding a dragon, even one as gentle as Silverwing. For a moment, the image of his son, small and fragile, atop such a powerful beast made him want to storm out and demand answers.

But then he stopped himself. Rickon was not some fragile boy. He was his son, a Stark, raised to face the wild north and the dangers that came with it. And more than that, Silverwing was under your command, a dragon bound to your will. His mind raced with the desire to scold you for being reckless, but something held him back. Rickon had begged for a chance to fly, ever since he had seen the dragons for the first time.

"Thank you, Roland," Cregan said curtly, turning away from the bustling activity of the courtyard and heading toward the godswood where he knew you often landed with Silverwing.

The cold air bit at Cregan's face as he walked through the open fields behind Winterfell. The godswood stood tall and silent in the distance, but it was the open expanse of land beyond it that caught his attention. There, just returning from the skies, was Silverwing. Her massive form settled gracefully on the ground, her wings folding in with practiced ease as you and Rickon dismounted.

He could see Rickon from afar, his small figure bounding toward the keep, his face lit up with sheer joy. As Cregan approached, he heard his son before he saw him up close.

"Father!" Rickon shouted, running full speed toward Cregan, his excitement bubbling over. "I flew, Father! I flew on Silverwing! She let me ride with her, and we soared above the trees! You should’ve seen it!"

The boy’s face was flushed with exhilaration, his cheeks red from the cold wind, and his eyes sparkled with uncontainable glee. He practically bounced in front of Cregan, his enthusiasm infectious.

Cregan knelt down, placing a hand on Rickon’s shoulder. "Did you now?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "And you weren’t afraid?"

Rickon shook his head vigorously. "No! The Princess told me not to worry. She said Silverwing wouldn’t let anything happen to me." His voice dropped to a near-whisper, eyes wide with awe. "And she didn’t. I felt like I was part of the sky. Can I go again, Father? Please?"

Cregan looked down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the boy’s bravery. The initial urge to reprimand you, to accuse you of putting his son at risk, faded as he saw the pure joy on Rickon’s face. How could he take that away from him?

He stood up, his eyes drifting toward you. You were brushing snow from your cloak, your gaze turned elsewhere, as if trying to pretend you hadn’t noticed him approaching. But you had noticed. You always did.

For a moment, Cregan was silent, the tension between the two of you palpable. He could have said something. Could have warned you against taking such risks with his son. But instead, he let out a quiet sigh, looking back down at Rickon.

"You can go again," he said softly, ruffling the boy’s hair. "But only when the Princess says it's safe."

Rickon beamed and immediately ran off toward the keep, his excitement carrying him as fast as his legs could take him. Cregan watched him go, then turned his gaze back to you. You still hadn’t spoken, but your eyes met his, guarded as always.

"I should scold you," he said, his tone measured. "You had no right to take Rickon flying without asking me first."

You straightened, your chin lifting slightly. "He wanted to go. And Silverwing wouldn’t have harmed him."

Cregan nodded, but his expression remained serious. "I know. But he’s still my son. And as much as he may adore dragons, I need to know he’s safe."

The tension hung between you for a moment longer, but Cregan couldn’t help the way his heart softened slightly. Despite everything—despite the constant bickering, the distance between you—he could see that while you might not want this marriage, you cared for Rickon. The way you had taken him flying, giving him the one thing that had brought him so much joy, didn’t go unnoticed.

"Perhaps," Cregan added quietly, his tone softer now, "you don’t want me. But you will be a good mother to Rickon. I can see that."

For a moment, you didn’t respond, your expression unreadable. Then you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "I’ll keep him safe," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cregan watched you for a long moment before turning and heading back toward Winterfell. The coldness between you two remained, but now there was a small crack in the icy wall that had stood between you since the moment you arrived.

The cold air was sharper here, beyond the walls of Winterfell, biting deep into Cregan’s skin as he led his men through the thick snow-covered wilderness. The northern winds howled, carrying with them the scent of pine and frost, mingled with something far more sinister—the smell of smoke from a Wildling camp. They had been tracking the Wildlings for days now, ever since word came that a raiding party had crossed the Wall, attacking isolated settlements and stealing what little food and supplies they could find before winter’s full grip took hold.

Cregan’s blood thrummed with the familiar tension that came before battle. His breath formed clouds in the cold air, his grip firm on the hilt of his sword as he and his men closed in. They could see the crude campfires in the distance, flickering like beacons in the darkening forest.

"Stay low," Cregan whispered to his men, his voice barely audible above the wind. The Stark bannermen, seasoned and loyal, followed his command without hesitation. They fanned out in a loose line, their cloaks blending into the snowy landscape.

The Wildlings had set up in a small clearing, their crude weapons and fur-lined tents marking them as a desperate group. There were perhaps a dozen of them—armed with spears, axes, and the occasional rusty sword—but they were not to be underestimated. Wildlings were fierce, survivalists hardened by the lands beyond the Wall. This fight would be bloody.

Cregan motioned to his men, and in unison, they surged forward, the snow muffling their approach until they were nearly upon the camp.

The first clash came fast and violent.

Cregan’s sword met the steel of a Wildling’s axe, the sharp clang of metal ringing out into the frigid night. The raiders shouted in surprise, their camp erupting into chaos as the Stark men descended upon them. The Wildlings fought back viciously, their crude weapons swinging wildly, aiming for any vulnerable flesh they could find.

Cregan swung his blade with precision, cleaving through a Wildling’s chest, blood spraying across the snow like ink on parchment. He turned just in time to parry another blow, gritting his teeth as the impact jarred his arm. Around him, the sounds of battle raged—shouts, screams, the wet thud of bodies falling into the snow.

But then, something sharp and hot bit into his side.

Cregan gasped, stumbling back as a Wildling spear pierced his flesh just below his ribs. The pain was immediate and blinding, spreading like fire through his body. His grip faltered on his sword for a moment, but he didn’t let go. With a roar, he swung his blade in a brutal arc, slicing through the man who had struck him. The Wildling crumpled to the ground, but Cregan was already weakening, his vision blurring at the edges.

The fight continued around him, his men cutting down the remaining Wildlings, but every movement Cregan made sent waves of pain crashing through him. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright, even as the blood began to seep through his furs, staining the snow beneath his feet a dark crimson.

At last, the battle was over. The Wildlings lay dead, their bodies scattered across the snow like broken dolls. Cregan’s men stood victorious, though bruised and bloodied themselves.

One of his men, Ser Vayon, rushed over to him, his face pale with worry as he saw the blood. "My lord! You’re wounded."

Cregan waved him off, trying to mask the severity of his injury. "I’ll live," he growled, though his voice was weaker than he intended. "But I can’t make it back as fast as the rest of you. Take the others and ride ahead. Get help."

Ser Vayon hesitated, his eyes darting between Cregan and the rest of the men. "We can carry you—"

"No," Cregan interrupted, his tone firm despite the pain. "I’ll slow you down. If you ride ahead, you’ll reach Winterfell faster. I’ll follow behind." His vision blurred for a moment, and he had to steady himself against a nearby tree. "Go. That’s an order."

Reluctantly, Ser Vayon nodded, glancing back at the other men. "As you command, my lord."

With that, they mounted their horses, casting one last worried glance at him before spurring their mounts and riding off through the snow. Cregan watched them go, the sound of hooves fading into the distance, leaving him alone in the quiet, snow-covered forest.

He took a few shaky steps, but each movement sent a fresh wave of agony through his body. His hand clutched his side where the blood still flowed, staining the white snow beneath his boots. The world around him tilted, and he fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He tried to rise, but his strength was failing, his body too weak to carry him any further.

Just as his vision began to swim, he heard a sound—a distant, high-pitched screech that cut through the silence like a knife.

Cregan blinked, his vision blurring as something massive appeared in the sky above him. He squinted through the haze of pain, trying to focus, and then he saw it—Silverwing, her silver-scaled body descending from the clouds like a gleaming specter. The dragon landed with a soft thud, her wings folding as she approached him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Cregan cursed under his breath, trying to wave her off with a weak motion of his hand. "Go on, beast," he muttered, his voice slurred with exhaustion. "I’m not your rider."

But Silverwing ignored him, her massive head lowering as she nudged him gently with her nose. The touch was surprisingly gentle for such a fearsome creature, as if the dragon knew he was on the brink of collapse. She nudged him again, more insistently this time, her warm breath washing over him as if urging him to stand.

Cregan tried to push her away, but his strength was gone. "Damn dragon," he rasped, his body trembling from blood loss. "Leave me."

Silverwing let out a low rumble, her large eyes narrowing as if in disapproval. She nudged him one last time, and when he still didn’t move, she took matters into her own talons. With surprising care, Silverwing wrapped her claws around his body, lifting him effortlessly from the snow.

Cregan groaned, the world spinning around him as Silverwing took flight, the sensation of being carried through the sky both terrifying and surreal. His body was limp in her talons, the wind whipping through his hair as they soared above the treetops, Winterfell a distant shadow on the horizon.

His eyelids grew heavy, the pain in his side fading as numbness took over. The world below him grew smaller, the sky a dark blur above.

As Silverwing’s wings beat rhythmically, the wind howling in his ears, Cregan's consciousness began to slip away, the edges of his vision turning black.

The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was Winterfell’s walls in the distance, growing closer with every beat of Silverwing’s wings. Then, nothing.

Cregan Stark knew no more.

The courtyard of Winterfell was a storm of chaos as you pushed through the throngs of servants and guards, your heart racing, breath short. The cold northern wind stung your face, but you barely felt it. All you could focus on was the sight ahead—Silverwing, her massive silver form crouched low on the snow, her head lowered protectively over a motionless figure sprawled at her feet. You shoved past a startled servant, your voice rising above the din of panic.

"Move aside!" you barked, pushing through the crowd until you finally reached the clearing where Cregan lay, blood staining the snow beneath him, his face pale and ashen.

Silverwing rumbled softly as you approached, her enormous eyes watching you, but she made no move to stop you. Her wings shifted, creating a barrier between the man she had carried home and the gathering onlookers.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The sight of Cregan—your husband, though it had never felt real until this moment—bleeding and unconscious before his own keep sent a surge of fear through you that you hadn’t expected.

"Where is Rickon?" you demanded, whirling around to one of the women standing near the edge of the scene. Rickon’s nanny stepped forward, worry etched on her face.

"He was playing with the other children when we heard the commotion," she said nervously, glancing toward Silverwing. "Should I—?"

"Find him," you interrupted quickly, your voice firmer than it had been in weeks. "Keep him away from here. I don’t want him seeing his father like this."

The woman nodded, clearly relieved to have something to do, and hurried off into the crowd. You turned back toward Cregan just as Maester Kennet knelt beside him, his hands moving with the steady calm of a man who had seen too many battle injuries in his lifetime. His fingers probed at the wound beneath Cregan’s furs, his face grim.

"Will he live?" you asked, unable to keep the edge of desperation from creeping into your voice.

Kennet didn’t look up, his attention still fixed on the blood-soaked gash. "The wound is deep, but he’s strong. If we can stop the bleeding and keep the fever from setting in, he has a chance. But we need to get him inside—now."

Already, several of Cregan’s men were lifting him carefully onto a makeshift stretcher, their faces pale with worry. You followed as they carried him toward the castle, your feet moving without thought. The icy wind cut through your cloak, but you ignored it. The only thing you could focus on was the sight of Cregan’s lifeless form being carried through the halls of Winterfell, his breathing shallow and labored.

As they reached his chambers, the men gently placed him on the large bed, stepping back to allow Maester Kennet to work. You hovered just beyond the bedside, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides, helplessness gnawing at you. Despite everything—despite the constant arguments, the coldness between you—you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him like this. The stark realization struck you hard, knocking the wind from your lungs.

You didn’t want him to die.

For what felt like hours, Kennet worked over Cregan’s body, stitching the wound with deft hands and applying herbs to stave off infection. You stood nearby, your eyes never leaving Cregan’s pale face. He was so still, too still. The sight of him like this made the cold inside Winterfell seem even more unbearable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kennet finished his work. The room was filled with the scent of medicinal salves and the sharp tang of blood. The old Maester wiped his hands on a cloth and turned to you, exhaustion etched in every line of his face.

"I’ve done all I can for now," he said quietly. "He will need time to heal, but whether he wakes or not depends on his own strength."

You nodded mutely, your throat tight with unspoken fear. "Thank you, Maester," you managed to whisper. Kennet gave a small nod, then gathered his supplies and left the room, leaving you alone with Cregan.

For a long time, you stood there, staring at the man who had become your husband, the man you had fought with, resented, and yet now feared to lose. His breathing was shallow, but steady, the rise and fall of his chest a small reassurance in the overwhelming uncertainty that hung over the room.

Without thinking, you moved closer to the bed, sinking into the chair beside him. Your hand reached out almost instinctively, and before you could stop yourself, your fingers closed around his. His hand was rough and calloused, larger than yours, but in this moment, it felt fragile.

"You stubborn, foolish man," you whispered, your voice breaking as you held onto him. "You always have to be the hero, don’t you?"

Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away, unwilling to give in to the fear gnawing at your insides. Instead, you lowered your head, closing your eyes as you prayed softly in Valyrian, the words flowing from your lips in a desperate plea to the gods of your ancestors.

"Grant him strength," you whispered, tightening your grip on his hand. "Give him the will to fight, to wake up."

The room was silent save for the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the warmth of the flames doing little to thaw the cold dread that had settled in your chest. You stayed by his bedside, refusing to leave, your heart pounding with every passing second.

Despite everything, you weren’t ready to let him go. Not yet.

And so, you stayed, waiting, praying, and hoping that Cregan Stark—your husband—would find his way back to you.

Cregan awoke slowly, his mind swimming through the thick fog of pain and disorientation. The world around him was hazy, the room spinning as he tried to make sense of where he was. His body felt heavy, weighed down by a deep, aching fatigue that seemed to seep into his very bones. He blinked, his vision clearing little by little, and as the soft flicker of firelight came into focus, he realized he was back in his chambers, the familiar scent of burning wood and herbs filling the air.

It was then that he noticed her.

You sat beside his bed, your arms crossed, your expression a mixture of concern and irritation. The furrow in your brow deepened as you noticed him stirring, your lips pressed into a thin line that barely masked the relief you must have felt. Despite the heaviness in his limbs and the sharp pain that shot through his side with every breath, Cregan couldn’t help but find it almost... amusing. There you were, the Dragon Princess, always so fierce and untamable, looking as though you were about to scold him, even now.

"You're awake," you said sharply, though there was a tremor of emotion beneath your voice that gave you away.

Cregan tried to sit up, wincing as the pain lanced through his side, but before he could make much progress, you were leaning forward, pushing him back down with a firm hand on his chest.

"Don’t even think about it," you warned, your tone brooking no argument. "Maester Kennet said you shouldn’t move. Not unless you want to tear your stitches and end up back in this bed for even longer."

He lay back with a grunt, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the discomfort. "Well, I wouldn’t want to upset the Maester," he muttered, his voice gravelly from disuse.

You gave him a look that would have wilted lesser men. "You almost died out there, Cregan."

The smirk faded from his face as he looked at you more closely. There was something in your eyes—something raw and unguarded. The irritation, the frustration—it was all there, but beneath it, there was a depth of feeling that surprised him. You were angry, yes, but not just at him. You were angry because you had been scared. Scared of losing him.

The realization hit him like a punch to the chest, and for the first time in years, he felt something stir inside him. It was warmth, not from the fire in the hearth, but from the way you were looking at him—fierce and tender all at once. It had been a long time since anyone had cared for him in that way, and now, seeing it in you—the woman who had resisted him, who had fought him every step of the way—brought a strange sense of peace to his heart.

"You care," he said softly, more to himself than to you.

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter as you sat back in the chair. "Of course I care. You’re my husband, for better or worse." Your tone was sharp, but the emotion in your eyes betrayed you.

Cregan couldn’t help but chuckle, even though it sent a sharp pain through his side. "I didn’t think you’d admit that so easily."

You glared at him, though the fire in your eyes wasn’t the same angry blaze he was used to. It was different now—softer, though no less fierce. "Don’t flatter yourself," you shot back. "I’m only here because Rickon can’t see you like this. He’d worry too much."

Cregan’s lips twitched into a faint smile. "So, you’re saying you’re here for Rickon, not for me?"

You opened your mouth to retort, but then you stopped, your eyes flicking away for a brief moment before returning to his. "I’m here for both of you," you admitted quietly, your voice losing some of its edge. "You were reckless, Cregan. Going after those Wildlings in your condition was foolish. What were you thinking?"

He sighed, his hand moving slightly to rest against his bandaged side. "I was thinking I needed to protect the North. To protect my people."

"At the cost of your life?" you shot back, incredulous. "Your people need you alive, not bleeding out in the snow."

There was a pause, and then Cregan gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that surprised you. "You’re right," he said, his voice low and steady. "I was reckless. But it’s what I’ve always done. I’ve always put others first. The North, Winterfell, my family... I didn’t think anyone would care if something happened to me."

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken things. You stared at him for a long moment, your expression softening, and for the first time, Cregan saw something shift in you. The walls you had built between you—the ice that had kept you at a distance—continues to crack, again a little more than before.

"I would care," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I may not have wanted this marriage, but I don’t want you dead."

The warmth in his chest grew, spreading through him like a fire kindling to life after a long, cold winter. He had known you were strong, had admired your spirit from the moment Jacaerys spoke of you. But now, seeing you like this—caring, vulnerable in your own way—it was more than he could have ever expected.

"I never thought you’d stay by my side like this," he said, his voice soft, his dark eyes searching your face. "But you did."

You looked away for a moment, your fingers tightening in your lap. "I stayed because I couldn’t leave you like that. No one deserves to be alone when they’re hurt, not even you."

He chuckled softly, wincing at the pain it caused. "You have a strange way of showing concern, Princess."

Your lips curved into the faintest of smiles, though it was laced with exasperation. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"

"I’ve been told," he muttered, still smiling despite himself.

The tension between you seemed to ease then, the space between you no longer as cold and vast as it once had been. Cregan felt it—the change, subtle but undeniable. And though he knew things wouldn’t be easy, though you would likely bicker again and clash as fiercely as you had before, there was something different now.

For the first time in a long while, Cregan Stark felt something stir inside him—a warmth, a sense of hope. He didn’t know what the future would bring, but for now, he was content with the knowledge that you were here, by his side, and that perhaps, just perhaps, you cared for him more than either of you had realized.

And that was enough.

The godswood was bathed in the soft light of the late afternoon sun, the ancient red leaves of the weirwood tree rustling in the cool breeze. Cregan walked beside you, his stride steady now, fully recovered from his near-fatal wounds. It had been months since that day when Silverwing had saved him from death's grip, and in that time, the distance between you and Cregan had shifted. You still bickered, your sharp words clashing like swords, but there was something different now. Beneath the teasing, the arguments, there was a warmth that neither of you could deny.

"I still think you're insufferably stubborn," you muttered, your arms crossed as you walked along the path beside him. "Charging into battle like a fool—next time, I won’t be sitting by your bedside."

Cregan chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your irritation flare even hotter. "Ah, but you did sit by my bedside," he said, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. "And I seem to recall you staying there for quite some time. Worrying about me, even."

You shot him a sharp glare, though it lacked the real venom it once held. "You should be thanking the gods you survived, not teasing me for caring whether you lived or died."

"I do thank the gods," he replied, his voice quieter now, more serious. "But I also thank you. You stayed with me, Y/N. I haven’t forgotten that."

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt the familiar defenses you had built around yourself begin to crumble. You glanced away, your gaze falling on the gnarled roots of the weirwood tree, trying to ignore the way his words made your heart flutter.

"You’re still a fool," you mumbled, though the edge had left your voice.

Cregan stopped walking, and you felt him gently take your hand, pulling you to a halt. You turned to face him, and in the quiet of the godswood, with only the wind rustling through the leaves, you found yourself caught in his gaze—those deep, grey eyes filled with something you hadn’t allowed yourself to see before. There was no frustration, no anger—only warmth, only want.

"And you’re still the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met," he said softly, stepping closer. His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine despite the cold air. "But I wouldn’t want you any other way."

You opened your mouth to retort, to say something biting, but the words never came. Instead, you found yourself closing the distance between you, your breath catching as his hand cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, and the last remnants of the ice between you began to melt.

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, your lips met his.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though both of you were testing the waters. But the moment your mouths touched, the fire that had been simmering beneath your bickering flared to life. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Neither of you spoke; there were no more words left to be said. The cold air around you seemed to disappear, muted by the heat that surged between you. His lips were warm and insistent, his body pressed against yours with a need you hadn’t known you could feel.

Without breaking the kiss, Cregan’s hands moved to the ties of your cloak, loosening them with deft fingers. You tugged at his own furs, pushing them from his shoulders, and soon the cold was biting at your exposed skin, but you didn’t care. And neither did he. The warmth of your body, of your fire, was all that mattered to him now.

Your cloak fell to the ground, forgotten among the roots of the weirwood, and Cregan’s hands were on you, pulling at the fastenings of your gown. You gasped as the cold air hit your bare skin, but his hands were there to chase it away, his touch rough and gentle all at once. You tugged at his tunic, eager to feel his skin beneath your hands, and when he pulled it over his head, you marveled at the strength of him, the way his muscles rippled beneath the scars and callouses of a warrior.

Before long, the two of you were bare to the elements, the cold air forgotten as he lowered you gently to the ground. The soft moss beneath you was cool, but the fire in your veins made it bearable. Cregan’s body hovered over yours, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky with desire, but still full of the respect that had always been there beneath your bickering. "I won’t force this, Y/N."

You stared up at him, your heart racing, and for the first time, you felt no resistance. No walls, no barriers. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "I’m sure."

With that, he kissed you again, slow and deep, as his body pressed gently against yours. His hands were everywhere—on your waist, your hips, trailing down your thighs, sending sparks of heat through your entire being. When he finally entered you, it was with a slow, deliberate tenderness, his eyes never leaving yours.

The brief flash of pain as he broke your maidenhead made you wince, but he was there, soothing it with soft kisses, his hand tangled in your hair. And then, as the discomfort began to fade, the pleasure took its place, warm and insistent.

You moved against him, your body finding a rhythm as you urged him on with the softest of moans, your hands gripping his shoulders, your legs wrapping around him. His breath came in ragged gasps, his control slipping as he gave in to the fire between you, the primal, unspoken connection that had been building for months.

The cold wind whispered through the trees, but it could not reach you. The warmth of your bodies, entwined beneath the ancient weirwood, was enough to drive it away. Cregan’s movements grew more intense, his lips never straying far from yours, his hands gripping you as though he feared you might vanish.

Your moans mixed with his groans, the air between you thick with the sounds of your love-making, the passion that had been hidden behind walls of ice and words for so long. Every touch, every thrust, brought you closer to a place neither of you had been before, and when the moment came—when your bodies finally reached the peak—you clung to him, your breath ragged, your body trembling with the force of it.

He followed you over the edge moments later, his own release marked by a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the wind quieting, the godswood holding its breath as the two of you lay entwined, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Cregan didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Instead, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered your name. You closed your eyes, letting the weight of the moment settle over you, your heart still racing from the intensity of it all.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly warm.

The day was crisp and clear, the sky a bright blue canvas that stretched out endlessly above Winterfell. Silverwing, her silver scales shimmering in the afternoon sun, stood in the godswood, shifting her weight restlessly, her wings fluttering with barely-contained excitement. You stood beside her, hands on your hips, grinning as you watched Cregan approach, his expression a mix of wariness and resignation.

"You look like you're marching to your execution," you teased, unable to hide the amusement in your voice. Silverwing gave a low, eager rumble, her eyes fixed on Cregan as though she sensed his hesitation and found it endlessly amusing.

Cregan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share Silverwing’s enthusiasm—or yours, for that matter. He slowed his approach, eyes narrowing at the massive dragon before him. "I thought I was done with near-death experiences for a while," he muttered, giving you a sideways glance. "But here I am, about to climb on the back of something that could roast me alive."

You chuckled, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, don’t be such a Stark about it. Silverwing wouldn’t dream of harming you—not as long as I’m here." You flashed him a grin, though you could tell from the way his jaw tightened that he wasn’t quite convinced.

"I suppose that’s supposed to reassure me?" he asked, glancing up at Silverwing’s massive head as she tilted it curiously toward him.

"Well, it should," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "Besides, she likes you. Remember how she likes to nudge you? If a dragon doesn’t like you, trust me, you’ll know."

Cregan swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back to Silverwing’s gleaming teeth. "Comforting."

You laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him closer to Silverwing, whose tail flicked impatiently behind her. "Come on, brave Lord of Winterfell. It’s not every day you get to ride a dragon. You might even enjoy it."

"I highly doubt that," Cregan grumbled, though he allowed you to lead him closer.

When you reached Silverwing’s side, you placed a hand on her flank, feeling the familiar warmth of her scales beneath your palm. The dragon lowered herself slightly, making it easier for you to mount. You turned to Cregan, your smile widening at the sight of him standing there, arms crossed, clearly trying to mask his discomfort.

"Up you go," you said brightly, giving him a playful shove toward Silverwing’s side. "Ladies first."

He shot you a look that could have frozen the Wall, but with a resigned sigh, he began to clamber up the dragon’s side, his movements careful and deliberate. You followed him, slipping easily into the saddle behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep both of you secure.

"You’re going to want to hold on tight," you whispered into his ear, your voice laced with mischief. "Silverwing can be...enthusiastic."

"Great," Cregan muttered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the saddle. "Just what I needed to hear."

Silverwing, sensing the shift in your posture, gave an eager roar, her wings unfurling in preparation for takeoff. The wind stirred around you, and you felt Cregan tense beneath your arms, his muscles coiled with nervous energy.

"Here we go!" you called out, laughing as Silverwing leaped into the sky with a powerful beat of her wings.

The ground fell away beneath you in an instant, the cold wind rushing past as Silverwing soared higher and higher. Cregan let out a startled curse, gripping the saddle with both hands as if his life depended on it, while you laughed, the exhilaration of flight filling you with a wild sense of freedom.

"Relax, Cregan!" you shouted over the wind, leaning into him. "You’re not going to fall!"

"I’d rather not test that theory!" he shot back, his voice strained as Silverwing dipped suddenly, her wings cutting through the air with effortless grace.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, leaning your chin on his shoulder as the dragon steadied herself, gliding smoothly over the landscape. "See? It’s not so bad, is it?"

Cregan didn’t respond immediately, though you could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease as the flight became less of a frantic rush and more of a smooth ride. The wind was cold but invigorating, and beneath you, Silverwing hummed contentedly, clearly enjoying the chance to stretch her wings with both of you on her back.

"Alright," Cregan finally admitted, his voice quieter now, though still laced with reluctance. "Maybe it’s not as terrifying as I thought."

You grinned, tightening your arms around him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "See? I told you. You’re a natural dragonrider."

"Let’s not go that far," he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a smile.

For a while, you soared together in silence, the vast expanse of the North stretching out beneath you—white fields, dark forests, and the distant peaks of mountains all bathed in the pale winter light. Cregan relaxed more with each passing moment, his breath steadying, though he still gripped the saddle firmly. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your touch, but it wasn’t the frantic rhythm of fear anymore. It was something else—something closer to excitement.

After a while, you guided Silverwing back toward Winterfell, and as the dragon swooped low over the godswood once more, you couldn’t help but tease him again. "I think you might have even enjoyed that a little."

Cregan shook his head, though there was a faint laugh in his voice. "Enjoyed? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Princess. I’m still deciding if I’ll ever do this again."

You smirked as Silverwing touched down with a graceful thud, her wings folding as she lowered herself to the ground. You dismounted easily, then turned to help Cregan down, though he shot you a look as if to say he didn’t need the help.

"I’ll give you credit for bravery," you said, watching as he finally stood on solid ground again. "You didn’t scream once."

"That’s because I was too busy clinging for dear life," Cregan muttered, though his lips quirked in a smile. "But I’m alive, aren’t I? That’s something."

You laughed, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "You did well. Maybe you’re more suited for the sky than you thought."

He looked down at you, his expression softening as he rested his hand over yours. "Maybe. But for now, I think I’ll leave the flying to you."

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Suit yourself. But you’re always welcome to join me."

Cregan chuckled, pulling you closer. "We’ll see about that. But if Silverwing’s happy, I suppose I’ll consider it."

Silverwing let out a soft, approving rumble behind you, and you couldn’t help but smile. "I think she likes having you around."

"Gods help me," Cregan muttered, though there was warmth in his eyes that told you he didn’t really mind.

And as the two of you stood there, with Silverwing watching over you, the cold air seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of your shared laughter and the fire you had ignited between you.

RHAENICENT APPRECIATION WEEK 2024 [1/7] parallels: paternity test (x x)

I always want you.

5x14 Crush || 6x14 As You Were

Get To Know Me Meme: Movies [3/20] → Pretty Woman (1990)

“I want the fairy tale.”

How could I like her? Because I don’t like her. Because I can’t like her. Mrs. Forman, if I like her- shoot me. POW!

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER | S4E09: Something Blue.

── ᡴꪫ !　STURNIOLO P! LINKS

Hello sluts, I had this in mind for a while. Finally I bring you links from Chris and Matt, I hope you enjoy it. These are all twitter links, so be sure to be logged in on your browser for them to work. I decided to add a little history to the links (a personall touch) masterlist!

── ᡴꪫ !　Christopher Sturniolo.

CAN'T SLEEP? Chris cannot sleep alone and is an extremely restless boy at bedtime, He keeps moving around in bed and this often disturbs your sleep. You feel Chris's restless ass move so you turn around and ask him angrily what the hell is wrong, big mistake, You shouldn't have used that tone with him. You are automatically face down with your hands behind your back and completely naked while Chris fucks you from behind.

FUN GAME. These past few weeks Chris has been doing two to four hours of streaming alongside Matt, and you'd be waiting for him to finish in the living room. The last few days Chris was already pretty bored about it, so u decided to do something to amuse him. "A bet? For kill? Sounds good to me" If he managed to get more kills than Matt during one of the Fortnite games, u would give him a blowjob. This has motivated him to bring out his more competitive side, I manage to do twice as much as I usually do. "I did it, u have to give me a blowjob now" but u wouldn't give him that fucking pleasure, you would play with him a lot before sucking him.

LEARN TO DRIVE. It's no news that Chris doesn't know how to drive, but honestly, ever since he started dating you, he's made it his mission to learn how to drive. Don't get me wrong, he really appreciates you picking him up, but he would like to be able to do this for you. So when I asked you if you could teach him you agreed. Chris is a great driver, he pays close attention to every word you say. But you don't know if it's because he's like that, or because you promised him a reward if he was a good student. "What are you saying? Do you think they'll give me the license?" Chris would ask you once he parks the vehicle in a deserted practice area that you chose. "You did great, I'm very proud of you, I'm sure you'll get it." You congratulate him and take off your seatbelt, ready to switch seats to drive back home, but Chris didn't have the same intentions. "I thought I heard that if I was good you would reward me..." And that's how they both end up in the backseat of your car.

── ᡴꪫ !　Matthew Sturniolo.

HOT ROAD TRIP. They have been taking a long road trip, it was not a very good decision to do it in the middle of summer. The air conditioning in Matt's car wasn't even working anymore. You rolled down your car window and let the breeze hit your face, even fanning your hand to send more wind towards your face. Your low-cut tank top wasn't cool enough, you even unzipped your shorts. You assume that all this and of course the unbearable heat have managed to ignite something inside Matt, but out of nowhere he parked the car and said "pull down those shorts and let me sink my fingers inside you."

TOUCH ME. One of the things they enjoy most about each other is touch. That kind of foreplay is so exciting for both of you. You often seek out Matt's touch, You really like it when he touches you. You might even confirm that it's not the same when you do it yourself. Your legs would open wide just for him, so he could gently massage your sweet spot, occasionally penetrating you with his fingers. Until your legs shake and close involuntarily.

HALLOWEEN PARTY. From the moment Matt found out they were going to a Halloween party he knew what was coming. To be honest, he refused to go. So Nick and Chris step in to get him to scepte. "Why don't you want to go? I understand that you like your 'solitude' that you now share with your girlfriend, but damn it's a fucking Halloween party." That's what Nick would say, trying to get his brother to agree to go. Matt, on the other hand, remained firm in his decision. "Halloween parties suck, it's a bunch of girls wearing completely hot outfits, there's not even blood or anything scary" That's what Matt would say. But then you said you already had an outfit in mind and you wanted to go, so he didn't refuse and finally agreed just for u. Anyway that day you looked so ready that Chris and Nick left early. Matt saw you in your suit and couldn't resist fucking you with your suit on.

Goddamn!!! 🔥🔥🔥

I need more cregan modern au!!!! I loved the hockey one but what about him being a business person? A hot office romance?

Request: More modern!Cregan pretty pretty please 🥺

This is heavily inspired by Bed chem by Sabrina Carpenter (p.s. This is almost 4k and I did not re-read anything, so I apologize if it's bad)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, dirty talk, elevator action, p + v,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You met him at an event hosted by the firm. The company was expanding its operations internationally and opening its first new office in London. To celebrate the new venture, a banquet was organized at the main office in New York. 

Although you’ve been working here for three years, you didn’t know half of the people. You were not the kind of person who befriended her co-workers — other than Baela. She was the granddaughter of the CEO and your office mate when you started working at the firm. Now, you were best friends and roommates. 

‘’I think Jace is going to propose.’’

You snapped your head towards her so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. ‘’What?!’’ 

‘’He has not asked — yet —,’’ Baela continued, her eyes sparkling with excitement, ‘’but I think he’s going to do it soon. Very soon. Should I plan all of my next manis? I don’t want him to propose when I have a chipped sparkly pink polish.’’

‘’When did you ever wear sparkly pink polish?’’ you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Baela shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. ‘’I don’t know. But what I know is that I don’t want sparkly pink polish when I take cute pictures with my engagement ring. My mom will repost it on her socials, and everyone will see my crusty many.’’ 

You couldn’t help but laugh at Baela’s theatrics. 

‘’Do you think we’re going too fast?’’ Her earlier excitement faded into a nervous frown. ‘’We don’t even live together.’’ 

You could see the worry lines forming on her forehead. She wasn’t even engaged, and already she was fretting about the future. You didn’t want to imagine the type of bride she’ll be when Jace will get down on one knee. 

Offering her a kind and reassuring smile, you shook your head. ‘’Too fast would be you getting engaged to your Tinder date after two weeks. You and Jace have been dating for two years. And, when you know, you know.’’

Baela's shoulders relaxed, and she returned your smile. She took another sip of her drink and began telling you about the hot gossip she heard in the bathroom this afternoon. There never was a dull moment with her. 

After a story about a mystery thong found by the coffee machine, you excused yourself and went to get another drink. You suspected it belonged to one of the secretaries or the new intern, Mysaria. You saw her flirting with Baela’s father last week. 

You headed toward the bar, squeezing past a group of laughing executives. When you finally reached the bar, you quickly blurted out your order, eager to get a drink in hand. These work events felt tedious without the right amount of alcohol. 

‘’Just a moment, Miss,’’ the bartender said, nodding toward a tall man standing beside you. ‘’He was there first.’’ 

You turned to the man, who you had genuinely not seen, ready to apologize for cutting in line. He was dressed in a blue-gray button-up shirt and a neatly fitted waistcoat — typical business attire for these events —, and was very good looking. 

He waved the bartender off dismissively. ‘’Serve the lady first. I can wait,’’ he said, his voice deep and rich with a thick accent that immediately caught your attention. This man was not American. 

 Behind the bar, the bartender nodded and began preparing your drink. You turned toward the man you rudely cut in the line and thanked him. It was gentlemanly of him, but he didn’t have to let you go before him.  

He shrugged with a small, easy smile. ‘’It’s no trouble at all.’’ 

There was an effortless charm that radiated from him, pulling all your strings right into his hands. You could feel his eyes drop to your dress, which hugged your curves in all the right places and revealed a bit more cleavage than would be considered appropriate at the office. Not to be outdone, you let your gaze wander too, taking in the man before you — the different colors in his eyes, his neatly cut beard, the way his waistcoat accentuated his broad shoulders. And more inappropriately, he seemed to be packing beneath those trousers.

Your drink was ready too soon, forcing you to go back to Baela to tell her about the man you just met. 

‘’Who’s the guy with the dark hair and the thick accent?’’ you asked, watching from afar as Vaemond Velaryon stopped him and began a conversation. 

Brother to Mr. Velaryon, Vaemond was one of the most loyal pawns of the company. But his views were often sharp and unapologetically sexist, which was why you actively avoided him. If you're looking to stir an argument with someone just for fun, go to him. His quick temper and rigid opinions made him an easy target for a heated argument.

Baela followed you sightline, a knowing smile curling on her lips. The way you asked about him was enough to guess that you fancied him. ‘’That’s Cregan Stark, the managing director of the new firm in London,’’ she explained.

You frowned lightly, your eyes not leaving him. ‘’He’s young to be a managing director, no?’’ 

Baela shrugged. ‘’He’s under thirty, that’s for sure. But I doubt my grandfather would have given him the post if he wasn’t competent.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You were utterly disappointed when you found out Cregan Stark was not on social media. How were you going to charm your way into his pants if you couldn’t contact him? 

manifest seeing him again. 

A few weeks after the opening of the new Velaryon Importation offices, your boss needed someone to travel to London on his behalf, and you had to thank the universe for this perfect opportunity. While there were others at the firm who seemed more likely candidates, it was you who got called into his office that Thursday morning. You’ll have to thank Baela, who may have spoken good words to her grandfather in your favor. 

‘’All I’m asking in return is updates on the hot managing director. Call me every night. I heard british men have filthy mouths and oversized di—’’ 

Your jaw dropped, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence. ‘’Baela!’’ 

She shrugged. ‘’What? It’s what I’ve heard. If he’s really freaky, he might bend you over in his office.’’ 

You shook your head and headed down the stairs to get into your cab. 

Eight hours later, you landed in London and fell straight into your bed. Taylor Swift was a liar, jet-lag was not a choice.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘’Mr. Stark is on a phone call. He’ll be down shortly,’’  his secretary informed you with a friendly smile. 

She was blonde and stunningly beautiful, which made you wonder if Cregan had an affair going on with her. It was an office classic: an executive hooking up with his secretary.

You took a seat in the sleek, modern office and glanced around, waiting. 

Moments later, Cregan Stark walked in, exuding effortless charm. 

‘’Apologies for the delay,’’ he said, his deep northern accent adding a rugged charm to his words as he extended his hand. ‘’I was held back on the phone.’’

You took his hand, feeling a brief, electrifying contact. “No worries at all,” you replied, flashing a warm smile.

He was even more handsome than you’d remembered. His dark hair was pulled back into, giving him a more professional look, his crisp button up was clinging to his broad shoulders, and his beard made you want to push his face between your legs — be damned the carpet burns!

You needed to manifest this.

Cregan’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “We met at the banquet in New York, didn’t we?” he asked, his gaze lingering on the wrapped neckline of your blouse and the soft curves concealed by your tight skirt. “I didn’t catch your name, though.”

You gave him your name and he repeated it, falling sweetly on his tongue. You wanted to hear it again.

‘’It’s quite the pleasure to see you again, Y/N,’’ he said, his eyes catching yours. 

Then, the boring part of your trip to London began. You followed Cregan as he gave you a visit of the offices, pointing out the various departments and introducing you to key staff members, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the way he’d said your name and the way his hand — twice the size of yours — had lingered just a moment longer than necessary during your handshake. 

You wanted that big hand all over your body. Especially between your thighs. 

Shaking any inappropriate thought off your mind, you pulled out your phone and asked questions about various things Mr. Velaryon wanted you to check on, almost forgetting the reason for your presence in London.  You took notes, not wanting to be empty handed when you’ll write your report email later.

As the tour continued, you were obsessed with the way the executive stole glances at you. He watched the way you moved, the way you spoke to people, the way your glossy lips curled when you laughed at Oliver’s British humor. He didn’t fail to notice the way your hips swayed as you walked past him everytime he held open a door for you. 

You would be lying if you said you did not wear this skirt on purpose. It made your ass look fantastic. 

Finally, you reached Cregan’s office. He opened the door for you and gestured for you to step inside. The office was sleek and modern, with large windows overlooking the city — not much different from the ones in New York. Except for the green couch in the corner, creating as a small lounge area. 

He had planned to take you out for lunch, but the tour of the offices took longer than he would have liked and now there was a bright pink post-it on his desk — written by his secretary —, a glaring reminder of a meeting he seemed to have forgotten.

‘’I would have invited you for lunch,’’ Cregan said, a hint of frustration in his tone as he glanced at the post-it. ‘’But I have a meeting in…’’ He checked his watch and frowned, ‘’...ten minutes ago.’’ He let out a soft curse under his breath. ‘’Mondays never fail to keep me busy. I’m always on the run.’’

You couldn’t help but smile at his mild panic. ‘’I can take myself to lunch, Mr. Stark. It is not a problem. I’m a big girl, I’ll find my way around the city.’’ 

‘’No,’’ he interrupted, a touch of insistence in his voice. ‘’I insist. Let me make it up to you. How about dinner tonight instead? I should be out of the office by 7pm. Can we meet up for 8?’’ He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘’A friend of mine owns a restaurant. I’ll ask him to save us a table.’’    

The thought of having dinner with him, just the two of you, made your stomach do little flips. But you tried to keep your cool and nodded with a smile. ‘’8pm is good with me.’’ 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You mentally patted yourself on the back for bringing a dress in your suitcase. Without it, you would have been forced to go to dinner in your office clothes. They weren't ugly per se, but you would never wear them on a hot date. Not that tonight was a date. It was just dinner between colleagues.

You should remind yourself of that as you applied lipstick and extra spritz of perfume. 

When you arrived at the restaurant, Cregan was waiting outside. He was still in his office clothes, but his tie was removed and the first buttons of his shirt were undone. 

He led you inside, his hand coming at the small of your back, and you smiled at the ground. Maybe his intentions for tonight were not different from yours. 

A waitress took you to your table, promising to return with the wine card. Wine and a hot date on a Monday. Were you becoming your mother? 

Before sitting down, you removed your light coat, revealing the thin straps and the sweetheart neckline of your dress. You didn’t miss the low groan Cregan tried — and failed — to suppress, his eyes lingering a bit longer than necessary. You caught the way his jaw tightened slightly, his gaze darkening as if he was fighting to maintain his composure.

‘’How is London so far?’’ he asked, clearing his throat and taking a sip of wine, trying to refocus. ‘’Did you do anything this afternoon?'' 

You wished. 

‘’Truthfully, I napped all afternoon. I had this ambitious itinerary of all the sights I wanted to see and shops I wanted to go to, but jet lag hit me hard right after I left the office. I barely managed to order room service before I passed out.’’

Cregan chuckled softly, his eyes still subtly tracing the curve of your neckline. ‘’Jet lag can be brutal. But hey, at least it means you won’t be falling asleep on me tonight.” His tone was teasing, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

You leaned in slightly, your smile turning sly. “Lucky you.”

As the dinner progressed and plates were brought over, you began feeling a little bolder in your flirting. You slipped your shoe off under the table and stretched your leg out slowly, brushing your foot lightly against his ankle.  

You watched as Cregan’s eyes widened just a fraction, his breath catching slightly. He tried to maintain his composure and focus on the conversation you were having, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, fighting back a grin. You continued the gentle pressure, running your foot up his leg under the table, teasing him just enough to make him shift uncomfortably again in his seat. You were grateful for the table cloth shielding the restaurant of what was happening underneath. 

Cregan leaned in over the table, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘’You’re playing a dangerous game, love.’’ 

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he called you ‘love’, the word sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach. 

‘’Who, me?’’ You feigned innocence, your voice dripping with playful coyness as you continued to tease him with your foot beneath the table. ‘’I’m just enjoying my meal, Mr. Stark.’’ 

Cregan grimaced. ‘’Don’t call me that. It sounds straight out of a bad porn movie.’’ 

A giggle bubbled out of you. You had not expected him to say that. 

You took a sip of your wine and finished your meals in silence. No more teasing. 

When Cregan saw your empty plate, he called for the tab, ready to leave.

‘’But we still have dessert left. I was thinking with a lot of getting—’’  

‘’Fuck dessert.’’ He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. ‘’What I want is not on the menu,’’ he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

As soon as the doors closed, Cregan’s mouth crashed on yours. He backed you up against one of the walls, his body towering over yours. The elevator started moving, going on its slow rise up to the tenth floor. You barely felt it under your feet, your brain tuning off as you felt his large hand grab one of your breasts over your dress, which Cregan had been dying to do ever since he met you at the banquet. 

He groaned in your mouth, and you grinned. This dress truly was a great pick. 

Behind him, the numbers were going up, now reaching the third floor. 

You pushed your hands under Cregan’s jacket, feeling the warmth of his chest over his button as his tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting the overpriced wine on each other's tongue. 

You tried to hook your leg to his hip, but it was not working. His tall frame was a blessing and a curse. Chuckling, Cregan came to your help and held your leg up while his other hand moved down underneath your dress, his fingers pulling your panties to the side and rubbing at your clit. Your head fell back against the wall, melting against his hand and breaking the kiss.

''More please,'' you sighed. 

Cregan smiled against your neck, and then he pushed a finger inside you. He felt rough against your smooth channel, and you couldn’t help but clench down around him. A second finger stroked across your clit. It made you shiver as he filled you up. Your legs buckled. If it wasn’t for his body and the wall keeping you upright, you were not sure you would be standing. Especially in heels. 

You gripped at the front of his button up, clinging to him and moaning loudly while his hand worked quickly at your cunt. If anyone were to hail the elevator, you would be very embarrassed, yet a small part of you wanted it to happen. 

But it didn’t. 

Before you could reach your peak, the elevator dinged and Cregan pulled his hand out. 

‘’I…I don’t think I can walk,’’ you said with a giggle, not trusting yourself on your feet. The combination of the two glasses of wine and what just happened made your head spin. 

Taking matters in his own hands, Cregan simply lifted you and carried you to your room. You fumbled with the key card — those damn things never work on the first try —, then he shut the door with the heel of his foot. 

Once inside, he set you down on the bed and you removed your shoes, kicking them off your feet. 

You'll have to tell Baela about your adventure in the elevator later.  

Right now, you really needed Cregan to satisfy the burning desire between your legs. Preferably with his cock. His fingers were nice — thick and long —, but judging by the tent in his pants. his cock will make you see fucking stars. 

As if he had read your thoughts, Cregan began taking off his jacket and button up, leaving him in his work pants. You eyed him hungrily. He looked strong and sturdy, not like those gym bros you’ve encountered in the past. 

You stood so he could unzip your dress, but first pressed you up against his chest, one hand coming under your jaw to hold you in place as he kissed you. He was kissing you even harder than he had in the elevator, his touch sending tingles of heat through the material. 

Cregan’s lips were hot and demanding, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. You could feel the heat of his body pressing against you, the firm muscles of his chest against your back, as you melted under his kiss. You felt your dress loosen as his hands worked the zipper, sliding it down your body.

As it finally slipped from your body, Cregan drew back to admire the sight of you, standing there with no bra, only lace panties and stockings up to your thighs. 

A feral growl left his mouth, the sight making his cock twitch painfully. ‘’Did you plan on killing me tonight?'' he muttered, closing the distance between you again. One hand slid into your hair, his touch gentle yet possessive, while the other gripped a handful of your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. ‘’Because you’re fucking killing me right now.’’ 

You couldn’t help the grin curling on your lips. His words sent a thrill through your body. You would not have taken him for a lingerie man, but it was good to know.

‘’Don’t worry. I’m not a praying mantis,’’ you said, alluding to how they bit off the head of their mates after mating. 

Cregan couldn’t help but laugh at your humor. You were hot and funny? 

The bed was unmade from your afternoon nap as you and Cregan fell onto it. He had taken the rest of his clothes off, and his now bare — and hard — cock was rubbing against your panties as his hips rutted against yours. You moaned as you bucked your hips into his, your fingernails scratching down Cregan’s back. 

He pulled the crotch of your panties to the side, rubbing the head of his cock on your cunt. The contact made you moan.

‘’I think someone enjoyed the elevator a lot, uh?’’ Cregan teased, feeling how wet you were. Your panties were soaked from your arousal. ‘’Should we try it in the office’s elevator tomorrow?’’ He pushed his tip against your clit, sending jolts up your spine. ‘’Maybe I should fully take you this time? Would you like that, love?’’ 

The thought of doing something so forbidden made your heart beat faster and your walls clench. It would probably get you both fired. Your boss would never tolerate this kind of inappropriate behavior at the workplace. 

“Please, yes,” you gasped out, your legs spreading more for him. 

Cregan smirked, continuing his assault on your little bud, pushing his red tip against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes until your legs shook and you came, your back arching off the bed.  

Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes for a short second. When you opened them again, you saw Cregan stroking himself before pulling on a condom. Air caught in your throat — shocked — when your eyes fell on his cock. Your assumptions had been right — the man was packing. 

And if he knows how to use it, you won't be able to walk tomorrow. 

He pulled your panties down, not letting you time to recover from your orgasm. You were about to do the same with your stockings, but Cregan stopped you. 

‘’Leave them on,’’ he said, rubbing your thighs. ‘’I like it.’’ 

He turned you over, positioning you on your fours for him, and grabbed your ass before giving it a smack. The sound echoed in the hotel room. 

You glanced over your shoulder, watching as Cregan pushed his hair out of his eyes. He locked eyes with you, then lined himself at your entrance, slowly sliding in. You whimpered and clung to the sheets as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him. They say that beauty is pain, but so is a good dick.

‘’You alright?’’ Cregan asked, checking on you. 

You gave him a small ‘yes’. Your last Tinder date didn’t bother checking on you before slamming into you. This was an upgrade. 

After a moment, your walls no longer clamped around him and Cregan took this as his cue to start moving. He went slow, feeling every inch of his thick cock being squeezed at every deep thrust, eliciting breathy moans from your sweet lips. 

‘’Fuck, you feel so good around me. Your sweet cunt’s squeezing me with a vice grip,’’ he praised as grabbed your hips, wishing he had made a move on you a month ago.  

If he had, you would not have spent so much alone time with your sparkly pink little helper. 

‘’Harder. Fuck me harder,’’ you demanded, pushing back against him. ‘’You're not going to break me.’’ 

Answering your wishes, Cregan slammed into you and watched as you reeled of pleasure, getting fuck you just like you craved. His pace never once faltered and his cock slid in your cunt so fast all you could do was moan his name and clench the sheets as Cregan left you breathless and helpless, hitting all the right spots. 

With a loud shriek you came all over him, your cunt gripping him like a vice, making him moan as he finally came deep inside you — well, into the condom.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

While Cregan was in the shower, washing off the sweat of the day and the smell of sex off him, you pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Baela. 

To Baela: You were right about British men. Best. Sex. Ever. 

—

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BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

5.05 | No Place Like Home

“come with me”

ASKDJJSKSJ i genuinely collapsed btw x

SINCE I KNEWWWWWW THAT TOM WOULD TAKE DOWN THE VIDEO I SAVED IT FOR YALL

here are the crumbs 💕💕

Saving the pasta for YESTERDAY 💜

house of the dragon, (2022-?)

besties <3

                               ♡     𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤  

click the source link below to be redirected to 200 gifs (268x151px) of arnas fedaravičius in the last kingdom season 2. all of these were made by me from scratch so don’t claim as your own or redistribute. please like/reblog if you found this helpful. remember, my gif commissions are open! in case you’re interested you can find the information here.

possible tw: fighting, drinking, blood, weapons, violence. 

#needthat