Cregan Stark - Tumblr Posts

This was super cute😍🥰

Baby Blues

Summary ✩ After six months of being married, you and Cregan are still struggling to conceive, leading to you becoming insecure and slightly jealous in your marriage

Warnings ✩ Angst, jealousy, mentions of infertility and pregnancy, self doubt, insecurity, happy ending though

Notes ✩ This is based off of a request and I hope I did it justice. I did put a little twist on it just to make it a little extra angsty but enjoy!

Cregan pulled the covers back and grinned.

A little over a month had passed since your last moon blood, and now that a safe amount of time had gone by, he felt excitement fill him at the idea that you were finally with child.

The two of you had been trying ever since you got married six months ago, but it seemed that the Gods had not yet deemed you fit to be parents. It’s something that’s worried both you and Cregan, as it wasn’t like there was a lack of trying between the two of you, and the Maesters said that you both were healthy. Realistically, your belly should be swollen by now but it just hadn’t happened.

Now though, Cregan felt a sliver of hope rise in his chest. Beside him, you shifted and rolled over sleepily to see why your husband had taken the covers from you. You were cold, but once you saw what he was looking at you immediately warmed up.

“It still hasn’t come,” You realized, fighting a smile. Your heart beating a little faster as you saw the clean sheets.

“No. No it hasn’t,” Cregan, trying and failing to conceal his own grin, said. “It’s been next to two months now.”

“Which could mean nothing,” You chewed your lip, reminding him that sometimes a woman’s blood could be late. But Cregan chose to be optimistic.

“Or…”

You squealed as suddenly, your husband pulled you into his arms and peppered kisses all over your neck. Laughter filled your chambers as you tried to push him away, but Cregan held you firm, his hands gentle as they pressed against your belly. “Mayhaps my seed has finally taken.”

“Mhmm. Well, we’ll see about that,” You said cautiously, not wanting to get your hopes up until you knew for sure. More time would need to pass before you allowed yourself to truly believe, as the heartbreak of your moon blood simply being late would be devastating. You were already worried that something was wrong with your womb and the longer you went without getting pregnant, the more that worry grew.

Over the next few days, you held caution close to your chest as a way to shield yourself in case Cregan was wrong. In case this time was just false hope like all the others, but as the days went on and suddenly it became a month and two weeks without getting your moon blood, you caved.

You and Cregan couldn’t stop grinning the moment you finally revealed to the Maester what was happening. It was too early to be one hundred percent sure, but he assured you that it was a good sign and only time would tell. Despite this, Cregan insisted on celebrating the incident, claiming that there needed to be a feast held to honor the coming of a new heir. Your husband was so excited that you didn’t even have the heart to dissuade him, admittedly excited yourself.

As the Lady of the castle, you made the plans and collaborated with the Maester to send out invitations. And within two more weeks, all of the nearest houses in the North were gathered at Winterfell, happy and merry as they celebrated you and Cregan.

It was a lively feast, and definitely the most exciting event in the North for a while. Cregan had insisted on having the best ale present and the best food, as it was summer and their stores had extra to spare.

You had never seen your husband so alive; so filled with happiness and joy as he drank to his new heir. Of course, you were being moderate and only stuck to cider or water, but you didn’t mind. At least you’d be sober enough to remember this night, and the way that it filled you with such love to see everyone so happy.

To you, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulder and the fear of disappointing Cregan and the North faded. You knew it was silly, as Cregan had reassured you many times that he’d still love you even if you couldn’t provide him with a child, but fulfilling your duty had been drilled into your head since you were born and now you could rest.

You were pregnant, hopefully, and your days of waking up and feeling like a failure were over. That night, you ate, you laughed, you toasted to your unborn babe and you held Cregan tight when later, he whispered to your non-existent baby bump.

“Helloooo thereeee. I’m…I’m your father,” He slurred while you laughed, unable to help yourself as you knew he was one hundred percent piss drunk.

“My love, I think we should be going to bed so you can sleep this off,” You told him, but Cregan waved you off and rested his head on your belly.

“Just…just a minute,” He told you, and he seemed to sober up a little as a small sigh left his lips. “I wanna…I wanna say a few words to our little wolf.”

He pressed a delicate kiss to the exposed skin and nuzzled your belly with his nose, pausing for a moment before continuing. “It took…it took a while for you to get here, didn’t it? Your mother and I…we were worried. I thought…I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me at first and that’s why you didn’t come, but I’m glad to know that me cock still works.”

“Cregan!” You were both amused and a little surprised to hear that it was him he blamed for such a wait, not you. You never realized that your husband felt responsible for not being able to conceive these past few months, and it both saddened your heart and made you feel less alone to know that he carried the same guilt on his shoulders.

“It was no one’s fault the babe took so long,” You reassured him gently, running a hand through his hair. Cregan sighed at your touch, leaning into your lap as he nodded.

“Aye. It just seems like our little wolf is stubborn is all,” He smiled.

He finished off his speech with a few more words of love to your belly, and the entire time you felt yourself smiling bigger and bigger. By the time Cregan had finished, finally stumbling into bed and grumbling about a headache, you were sure that your cheeks were going split from smiling so much. Words couldn’t describe how full your heart felt, how much you were overflowing from sheer happiness and joy. Everything you had ever dreamed of was coming true and it was all because of the little babe growing in your belly.

“Good night, my little moon,” You smiled as you placed a hand over it, almost as a way to protect them as you fell asleep. Sometime during the night, you felt Cregan’s large hand doing the same, and together your warm hands protected your little miracle.

—

The next morning, you woke up with the sun shining on your face. Yawning, you reached over to say good morning to Cregan, only to find the bed empty.

He must have gotten up early, you thought with a frown.

You thought about yesterday, about how carefree and happy your husband had been. He was so excited to know that he was getting another child, excited that little Rickon would have a younger sibling to protect. You were sad to think that he now had to focus on his duties again, but what could you do?

Duty never waits for anyone.

Trying to shake off your disappointment, you cradled your stomach and sat up in bed. After stretching and taking a small sip of water from the pitcher your maids had left you, you yawned again and threw the covers back.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh Gods. Oh no, no, no!”

You scrambled up in a panic as tiny dots of blood stained your sheets, your eyes wide and your stomach dropping to your feet. Horrified, you placed a shaking hand over your mouth as denial flooded your veins—but the proof was there plain as day.

“No. No, no, no! This can’t be happening,” You whimpered, falling to your knees as you touched the satin material.

How could this be possible? You hadn’t…you hadn’t bled for two months, and now all of a sudden your moon blood decided to show up? After everything…the feast, Cregan’s speech last night…

You shook your head as tears blurred your vision. Utter rage and devastation seemed to fill your heart as you sobbed, clutching your stomach as your whole body shook.

Both shame and embarrassment washed over you, knowing that the womb you cradled was empty. All those celebrations, all the toasts and the speeches that were given…it was for nothing.

You weren’t pregnant, and just like that you were back in the same position you were when you first arrived in Winterfell.

Scared. Heartbroken when your moon blood still came after the bedding. Terrified as the thought of being barren and unable to bare Cregan another child haunted you.

All of a sudden, those fears came running back to you and it made you want to throw up. It made you want to shout and scream, ask the Gods what they hated you so much as to allow this.

Why? Why have you all cursed me? Why won’t you let me bare my husband’s child? Am I not good enough? Am I just not meant to be a mother?

No, no. It couldn’t be true. Despite what the Gods thought, you refused to believe it. You didn’t want to believe it, not willing to accept that you had let Cregan down, again.

Gods, and he had been so excited to be a father again. You knew that he always wanted a big family, but sadly his first wife had passed away in childbirth. It had taken him two years to remarry, and now he was stuck with only one son and a second wife that was probably barren.

A cruel fate he had been dealt, really.

And now, as you stared at the droplets of blood staining the sheets, an ugly feeling crawled its way through your chest. Something that felt akin to jealousy, which you knew was ridiculous and borderline sinful.

It was an ugly, awful thing to envy a dead woman—and you swore to yourself that you never would. You knew how much Cregan loved you, and you were mature enough to know that one person could hold love in their heart for two people. Still though, you just couldn’t help yourself.

Arra might have died for it, but at least she gave him an heir. I cannot even offer him anything, You thought bitterly.

The realization just made you cry harder, wondering if when Cregan found out he’d lose his patience with you. You wondered if your husband would curse the Gods as you did; ask them why they’d taken his perfectly good wife away from him and cursed him with a barren one.

You knew that he wouldn’t, as deep down you knew your husband was not that kind of man. Grief however had skewed your mind, and it made you not think straight as you scrambled up.

Wiping your tears, you leaned over the bed and tore the sheets off with one pull. In a frenzy, and motivated by the desire to not let Cregan see them, you stuffed them deep within your closet and sobbed.

You don’t remember when you dressed yourself, or when you even left the room, really.

All you knew was that everything felt like a blur, the whole world passing you by as you aimlessly wandered through Winterfell.

You don’t remember what you were even looking for or why, but eventually you found yourself somewhere that surprised even you. In the hallway of an abandoned corridor, staring at the portrait of Cregan’s late wife.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to go there, or to even stay once you realized what it was. But something kept you rooted to your spot, and you found yourself entranced as you stared at the artwork.

Arra was beautiful, that was for sure. She had long dark hair, common amongst the Northerners, and big blue eyes that seemed to stare at you accusingly.

From what you’d heard from Cregan, she was his childhood sweetheart. Kind and generous, your husband had once reassured you that she’d love even you, when you were once worried that her ghost would somehow blame you for stealing her husband and child.

“Arra was a gentle soul,” Cregan explained, “And she’d love you for the simple fact that you make me happy, and that you are going to be a wonderful mother to her son and his siblings.”

Now, you wondered if that would still hold true. You had failed at the last part, and surely once Cregan found out, the happiness he once found with you would fade.

You wondered if then Arra would still be so accepting of you; a woman who had stolen her husband and her child and couldn’t even do anything to keep him happy.

It haunted you to think so. Sent a burning feeling through your chest. A feeling of failure. A feeling of jealousy, that this woman had given your husband everything you’d ever wanted to give him and more. A feeling of sadness when you realized that she had died for it, and now her place had been taken by someone as useless as you.

A few hours later, that’s where Cregan found you. Staring at the portrait of Arra Norrey, crying your eyes out over a dead woman, his late wife, and the babe that never even existed in your womb.

“Y/N?” Cregan approached you cautiously, alarm and panic in his eyes as he saw you sunken on the floor. You hadn’t know it yet, too caught up in your grief, but you’d been missing pretty much the entire day and no one had been able to find you since this morning.

The sun had long set, and just when Cregan felt like he was about to lose his mind, he remembered one last place he hadn’t checked. A place he used to visit all the time when he was a child, hiding and sneaking away with his now late wife. But he hadn’t had the heart to visit since she died, not until the possibility of you being in danger arose.

It was here that he found you, and immediately your husband rushed over to you, taking you into your arms and inspecting you for any signs of danger as you cried.

“What has happened? Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Somehow, you managed to force the word out, shaking your head as you tried to quiet yourself. You hadn’t meant for him to find you like this, honestly you hadn’t. You’d meant to go find him hours ago and tell him the news, but you were stuck to this spot and you couldn’t move. The entire day you’d been paralyzed with grief and it was obvious you weren’t okay even though you tried to convince him you were.

“I’m fine, Cregan. Really,” You told him, but of course he didn’t believe you.

He reached a hand out to touch your face, wiping your tears as he set his torch down. The new angle allowed you to see his face better, to see the worry and the panic and the grief.

You curled into yourself even more knowing that you had probably caused it, and knowing that you were about to add to it even more.

“Y/N, what happened?” Cregan demanded. He was perplexed. “Why have you been down here the entire day? It’s nearly midnight. We’ve been searching for you for hours. Everyone was worried, I was going out of my mind thinking that something awful had happened to you! And the babe—”

Cregan suddenly paused as you began to cry harder, his eyes wide as you cradled your empty womb. Something in his head seemed to click, an awful thought he’d never even considered before rendering him weak.

“Gods. Has something happened to the babe? Is that why you disappeared?” Cregan panicked, and you couldn’t stop the plethora of tears that slid down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” The dam broke, and you launched yourself into Cregan’s arms as his face turned to horror. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Cregan, I…there is no babe,” You explained to him, and you watched as his expression hardened.

“My love, what are you talking about? What has happened to our child?” He demanded to know. You held your head shamefully.

“The sheets, Cregan,” You told him softly.

He paused. “What?”

“I bled.” The confession left a bitter taste in your mouth, Cregan reeling back in shock. “My moon blood…it came this morning while you were out. I took the sheets…so you wouldn’t know and I…I wanted to tell you, I swear. But I just…I didn’t know how and I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” You whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

You looked away, afraid to see his face. Afraid to see the disappointment and the anger that was sure to come. Afraid to see the same accusing stare that Arra wore.

You averted your eyes, because you didn’t think you could bare watching the moment your husband realized that you were a failure. That it was you all along and not him that couldn’t conceive a child. It was your womb, your body that was preventing his happiness.

You didn’t think you could watch the moment all of it faded away.

“Y/N…”

You flinched as Cregan’s hand gently grabbed your face, making you look at him no matter how hard you tried not to. His rough, calloused fingers stroked your cheek, and he looked awfully gentle for a man that should’ve been angry beyond belief.

“My love, look at me. Look at me, please.”

You blinked, and all of sudden you were gazing into his eyes, one blue and one brown. Both of them looked soft and warm, Cregan sighing as he shook his head.

“You will never be a disappointment,” He said firmly. “Not to me. And I don’t want you to ever think such a thing. You are a good wife—”

“Who has failed you time and time again, Cregan,” You sniffled, “It has been six months, and I have yet to fall pregnant. You already have a son, so we both know it is me. I…I’m the one that keeps disappointing us. And I don’t know what to do anymore. I just…I just want to give you a child already. I want to be just as good as Arra was.”

Cregan had been stabbed before, cut from navel to collar and yet nothing in the world was as painful as watching you break down in his arms, desperate for the child you did not have.

It made him feel helpless to see you cry, and he hated that feeling. Hated that there was nothing he could do except for hold you, and offer you sweet words in hopes that it would soothe the ache.

“And you will. One day, you shall bare me another child, but if the Gods have decided that it won’t be today then so be it. We’ll try again and again until the time is right, and if that time never comes then I’ll still be with you every step of the way,” Cregan whispered.

He rested his forehead against yours and stared into your watery eyes. In the dying light of the torch, he could see the way they danced with a thousand emotions, each one more devastating to see than the last.

“You will be a mother one day my love, but please, do not compare yourself to her,” He continued. “Arra bore me a son, yes, but she gave her life for it. I would rather give Winterfell to my uncle Bennard than to see you perish for a child as well. I cannot…I cannot bare losing you too. Do you understand?”

You could hear the pain in Cregan’s voice, the unspoken truth that he’d rather you never be a mother than to have you leave him as well. It made your heart ache at the thought of never having your own child to share, flesh and blood and bones made from your love.

It would haunt you to the end of your days, but dying and leaving your husband alone in this world would destroy you even more.

You nodded. “I understand,” You told Cregan softly.

The warm fire light died down as you held one another in that corridor.

Nevermind that half the castle was still looking for you; in that moment, you only wanted your husband, his presence the only thing that could soothe the aches.

As Cregan’s strong arms and soft words comforted you, your eyes turned to look at the portrait of Arra. You wondered, if in her final moments she felt the same comforts as you did—content knowing that no matter what happened, she’d have a husband who would be there for her until the very end.

You hoped that she had.

—

In the morning, Cregan declined seeing off his most loyal bannermen, keeping his promise of being by your side whilst you visited the Maester.

You were shaking, undeniably terrified for what he was going to say, but you kept your head high and held onto Cregan’s hand the entire time he examined you.

You told him of your bleeding last morning, and how it had seemingly stopped today. You confessed that you hadn’t been feeling the usual symptoms of morning sickness or fatigue, but your breasts were sore and your appetite seemed to have increased.

Your body was an endless maze of confusion and it put you through emotions you weren’t even capable of understanding. You didn’t see how the Maester could either, really, but you supposed that he was used to these kinds of things more than you were.

After you had answered all of his questions, you braced yourself, squeezing Cregan’s hand as you prepared for the Maester to tell you what he thought.

And to your utter surprise, he merely smiled.

“Bleeding from the womb for a day or two is rare after conception, but possible. The fact that it’s gone away is a good sign, My Lady,” He reassured you.

You felt Cregan gripping your hand tighter as a flurry of emotions filled your body. First, you were shocked. Then you were relieved. And slowly, the grief that had been eating away at your heart faded, and you felt the tiniest bit of something else bleed through.

Hope.

“You mean…?”

You didn’t want to say it out loud, for fear of maybe being wrong, but the Maester seemed to catch on and nodded his head.

“Yes. Gods willing, there should be a new child of Winterfell in about seven months,” He confirmed. And then he added, “Congratulations, My Lady. My Lord.”

He bowed to you and Cregan before leaving the room, also sensing that the two of you might like some privacy.

And he was right.

As soon as the door shut, Cregan pulled you into his arms and let out a shaky breath. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that your husband was smiling, and when you hugged him against you—hard—you could feel warm tears wetting your neck.

“D’you hear that? We’re having a baby,” You laughed in disbelief while Cregan chuckled, sniffling as he kissed alongside your jaw.

“I never doubted that we would,” He said honestly, and all you could do was hold him tighter, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.

“No. No you didn’t.”

Stubborn man.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan returns from a hunt, eager to see his wife. But he's hiding something from her.

Warnings: blood, making out, pain, talks about sex, I think that's it?

A/n: Based on an ask!!! Also... I need more Tom Taylor gifs RIGHT NOW or I'll cry. So fancast Cregan might make a comeback in the gifs

Masterlist

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She felt herself flinch when strong hands gripped her waist from behind and a kiss was placed on the back of her neck. 

"Did you miss me, my heart?" A deep voice whispered in her ear.

She relaxed at the sound, her body instinctively giving in to the hands that held her, "Quite terribly."

He grinned and playfully nipped at her ear, "Good, because I have as well."

She spun in his hold, now facing him. She ran her hands over his clothed chest and fiddled with his cloak, "The hunt was successful, I assume?"

"Three elks and a boar," he said with a hint of pride, "Should last Winterfell a while enough."

"You're very brave, my lord," she smiled with a teasing tone. "Facing a boar is quite a formidable task."

"Aye," he agrees. "But so is facing the Warden of the North, wouldn't you agree?"

"You're right," She said as he tugged on his cloak to pull his face closer to hers. "The boar didn't stand a chance."

A confident aura overcame the lord and he leaned further down and connected their lips.

She let out a soft groan, savoring the feeling of him after such a long absence.

His arms moved up and around her back to pull her to him.

Her chest collided with his and only then did Cregan falter.

She pulled away, disconnecting their lips as she gave him a small frown. "Cregan?"

His breath had quickened and his face paled, but he was eagerly changing the subject, "I've only missed you is all." He leaned in again.

As his lips brushed hers, she pulled away again as her worry doubled, "Stop. Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Something is clearly bothering you," she pointed out. "Tell me."

His hands wandered up to her biceps, gripping her earnestly, as if trying to convince her, "I am just fine. I only wish to spend time with my wife. Is that a crime?"

"You and I both know it's not, but there's something you're not telling me."

They stared at one another, seeing who would break first. Finally, he did with a sigh. "It is nothing, I assure you."

"You're sure?" She asked in worry.

"I am." 

She stared at him for a while before nodding, deciding to believe him. "Very well. I dare say I would enjoy some time with my lord husband as well."

He grinned, "I can arrange that." 

She leaned forward and met his lips, hands beginning to wander. 

He led her backwards to the bed, careful to not lead her astray. She blindly let him, too caught him in his touch to care where he took her.

She fell onto the bed and Cregan leaned down and began to kiss down her clothed stomach.

"Will you let me indulge in what I've missed?" He asked softly.

She let out a breath at his admission. 

Watching her reaction closely, he pulled the skirt of her dress up.

As his fingers grazed her bare thigh, she moaned out, "I don't think I can wait. I need you."

He chuckled, "So eager for me."

She sat up to entice him to loom over her, but she noticed that the color still hadn't returned to his cheeks. "Are you cold?"

He frowned, clearly confused at the question, "What? No."

"You're pale. Cregan, please." She reached under his cloak to his chest. 

He reached out to grip her wrists, but it was too late.

Her hands pulled back with red staining her palms. Her eyes widened in horror. "W…What-"

"-Look at me." He grabbed her face with both hands. "I am fine."

"You're hardly-"

His eyes showed the purely determined tone to his voice, "I am fine."

Her breath began to become shorter and her voice softened, "You… you've seen the maester?"

"I don't need the maester. I just need you," he said as he leaned in again.

She turned her head as she denied his wishes. "You're injured."

He sighed and pulled away from her. "It… it is just a scratch."

She stared down at her hands that now had his blood on them. Her fingers were shaky, and her voice was soft, "…you're injured."

He panicked when she began to only repeat her worry. "Dear wife-"

She stood and smoothed her dress out in a rush, "I'll get the maester."

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. His face twisted in a wince when the movement caused pain to shoot through his body.

She paused. "Cregan."

He forced himself to overcome the pain. Determination ran through his eyes as he looked up at her. "I. Am Fine."

She looked at his hand on her wrist, then back to him. "Even wolves show weakness on occasion."

It was clear that he took her words to heart because his eyes softened and his grip on her loosened. 

She slowly pulled her hand away and moved to the cabinet, pulling out bandages and cloths

Cregan watched in silence.

She set them onto the bed softly before leaving the room. She returned with a small basin of water. "Undress."

His head tilted. "Alright."

He pulled his cloak off, and only then did she notice how badly he was injured. 

His tunic was soaked in blood across his chest. 

It felt as if she had been dunked in cold water. Panic settled into her gut.

Cregan reached down to the bottom of the tunic, beginning to slowly peel it away from the injury. It clearly hurt him. His jaw was clenched to the point she worried for his teeth.

"Let me," she offered, pulling it the rest of the way off of him and throwing it to the side. 

A long cut ran down his chest, blood staining his skin. Cregan didn't bother to look at it. He kept his eyes on her and her alone.

She forced him to sit on the bed and sat down as well, reaching down to the cut. Her fingers grazed it lightly, earning a hiss from him. "Sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head as he studied her face, "'s fine."

"Get comfortable, my love," she finally forced.

He grunted in acknowledgement and pushed himself against the headboard.

She stood and grabbed the basin, setting it on the nightstand. The woman got up on the bed, throwing her leg over him to straddle him. 

If he wasn't in such pain, the night would've went much differently.

She leaned over and wet a cloth, beginning to gently run it over the cut to clean it. 

Cregan rested his head back against the headboard. His gaze stayed on her face.

"I don't understand why you didn't say something sooner," she whispered as she focused on healing her husband.

His eyes moved down to her lips, "I've had worse."

"How did it happen?" She pressed down unintentionally, and he hissed again. She muttered an apology.

"The boar," was all he said. He tried to read her expression, but it was hard when she wasn't looking at him. One of his hands moved to her waist.

"Did you face it yourself?" She asked incredulously.

"It caught us off guard is all."

She hummed as she grabbed a new cloth and continued to clean him with gentle hands.

His thumb rubbed across her waist comfortingly. "You're angry."

"Not angry," she sighed. "Only worried." Once the cut was clean, she began to slowly rub the cloth across his shoulders and up his neck, cleaning the dirt from the rest of him. 

The feeling made him close his eyes, "I do hope you'll forgive me then."

She shook her head, "You haven't asked for it yet."

He reached up with his free hand and stopped her motions. "Forgive me." His eyes studied her intensely, his voice serious.

She finally let out a sigh and a hint of a smile came to her. "You're a foolish man."

"I am," he admitted.

She took the cloth with one hand and held his chin with the other, cleaning the dirt off of his face. Their proximity brought a soft blush to her cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you."

His eyes moved to her lips again and he began to slowly lean in. "You don't have to."

"Promise me something," she whispered.

He nodded, "Anything."

"You'll not put your health aside to appear strong to me."

"I am the Warden of the North-"

She leaned away and held his chin in a tight grip. "Not here. You're my husband, Cregan."

A little grin came across his lips. "I promise."

She leaned forward and connected their lips. 

His hands found her waist, holding her in a vice grip as he pulled her as close as possible. She was careful to avoid the cut on his chest as her hands wandered over him. 

He pulled away and began to trail kisses down her neck, "I'm a blessed man."

She let out a content hum. "Are you? You have a gash in your chest. I hardly see-"

"-I have you." His teeth nipped at a sensitive spot, soothing it with his tongue. 

Her eyes began to close in bliss as she gave in to his touch. She caught herself, and forced her eyes open. "I haven't finished bandaging you."

He continued his movements, "You'll have time later."

"If you want anything from me, you must let me finish, you stubborn man."

He pulled away at that to look up and her. "Fierce girl."

She grinned and reached over to the bandages she had gathered. She wrapped them around him, "I forgive you."

His large hand came up to grab her jaw gently and force her to look him in the eye. "I will not take it for granted. Thank you."

"Do this again and I'll gut you myself."

A chuckle came from his throat. "I have no doubts of that." He pulled her face to his and his voice lowered, "I'll have to be extra cautious, won't I?"

"Or perhaps… don't leave at all," her soft voice suggested.

"Oh, my girl," he grinned. "When you finish this bandage, we are not leaving this room for a long while."

A bright red hue came to her cheeks.

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Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

@cookielovesbook-akie

Too needy.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: the reader naturally has to be touching Cregan at all times. He doesn't mind, but her insecurity starts to get the better of her.

Warnings: insecurity, talks of sex

A/n: Based off an ask! I'll proofread later

Masterlist

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He didn't react to her touches as much anymore, for they were constant. 

Winterfell expanded far and wide, and as much as her mind had tried to remember every corridor, she couldn't. 

So she always held on to him to keep from getting lost. 

At least, that was the excuse at first. Now, it was a comfort.

She held his hand, his arm, his cloak, the handle of the sword in his belt, anything that she could when they walked together.

Even now in the courtyard, she held fast to his cloak as he spoke with the stable master on a matter of his horse.

She looked around, her head on a constant swivel but her hand never faltered.

But she began to notice something.

A few that passed by had looked down at the hand that was still at Cregan's cloak and an insecurity was being prodded at.

She had noticed it for weeks now.

Perhaps they believed her to be too needy.

Perhaps they were right. 

The insecurity began to eat at her.

"Well, I thank you for your work regardless," Cregan continued to speak to the stable master, "My horse has never been more reliable. Do tell me what you believe abo-"

She zoned out from there. She was far too engrossed in noticing every little stare that came her way.

She dropped her hand from his cloak and let it fall to her side.

Cregan looked away from the man for only a moment to gaze at her. He looked down at her hand and immediately reached out and grabbed it. He then gave his attention back to the man as if nothing had happened. "Oh, I agree that when-"

She just stared down at their intertwined hands. 

She tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach when he'd lightly squeeze her fingers with his own.

…

The next day, the insecurity came again when at the petitions.

Cregan never sat behind the table as the maester did. He was always in front of it, pacing back and forth or sitting on the wooden surface itself.

Whether it was to be more inviting or more intimidating, no one was sure.

So when she joined him occasionally, he'd set her onto the table. She always figured he did it to comfort her, knowing she hated to be more than two steps away from him.

And when she'd sit there with her feet dangling inches from the ground, Cregan would stay put, not letting himself pace. He'd lean against the hardy table with his big arms crossed and brow furrowed as he paid attention to whatever the next person said. 

He cared greatly for his people, and he cared greatly for his wife.

So often during these times, her hand would be on his arm, or his hand on her leg. It was a pattern they had developed over their time together.

But today was different, for the insecurity was back.

His bicep brushed against her shoulder unconsciously as his body unknowingly inched closer to her by the minute.

"I've gotta herd to care fer," the man petitioned. "And these wolves keep takin' my flock. There's been at least six of em out there snapping at my shepherds."

Cregan hummed in consideration. "Aye, your flock helps to feed Winterfell through the winter often. Tell me what solution you've come here hoping for."

The man rubbed his beard, "Well, I was hoping fer some men to help me hunt the beasts down."

Cregan chewed the inside of his cheek in thought as his shoulder brushed against his wife again.

He turned his head to her, letting his eyes rake over her as they often did. An idea came into his head.

"Alright," he agreed as he looked to the man again. "You'll have 12 men for 9 nights to sort the matter over. I'll pay for their lodging and food."

The man's eyes widened, "Oh, thank you milord. Bless you!"

"But," Cregan quickly countered with a tilted head. "I receive the coat of every wolf dead in those 9 nights."

"Consider it done, milord! Oh, thank you!"

Cregan held a hand up, "'Tis my duties. They'll be yours by the morrow."

The man left with a continued string of thanks as he left. 

"What need have we for more pelts?" She asked quietly.

Cregan's head turned to her and a small smirk pulled at his lips. "You've far too few proper cloaks."

She opened her mouth to make a small petition of her own, but the next person stepped up.

It was an older man with a permanent furrow to his brow. 

She didn't miss the way his eyes wandered over to her, utterly disgusted by the informality of Cregan's petitions.

Cregan noticed it too, and he reached over and rested his hand on her knee. He touch was light. Just a reminder that he stood next to her.

"What might the Starks do for you?" Cregan's voice echoed as he studied him.

The man's request was lost. All she could think about was Cregan's hand on her knee. 

In all truth, she had missed his touch more than she believed she should have. After all, she got it constantly. But as of the last 24 hours, she had tried to draw back from his contact.

So when his thumb brushed softly over the side of her knee, she felt a shiver run down her spine. 

She held her hands back by picking at the skin around her nails. It was a nasty habit she had picked up when she was younger. It often made comebacks when she was nervous or stressed.

Without even looking, Cregan's hand moved from her knee to grab at her hands, breaking them up to keep her from further hurting herself. How he knew without looking, she was unsure. 

But he took one of her hands and pulled it to her knee, placing it down and keeping it there with his much larger palm over the top of it. His fingers played with hers absentmindedly as he negotiated with the man about gods know what.

That nagging feeling returned in her gut as she watched his fingers brush over hers. 

She was so needy that he felt forced to comfort her in the midst of his duties. 

How pathetic.

She managed to pull her hand out from under his despite his quick reaction to try to stop her. However, he didn't grab her hand in time and he knew better than to cause a scene over it. So he pretended not to notice.

When the man was satisfied and left, she began to push herself to the edge of the table to get up. 

Cregan stood in front of her with a hand up, "Where are you going?"

"Just… to sit."

His head tilted down to catch her gaze. "To sit…? Where?"

"The…" she turned to look over her shoulder to the other side of the table. "The chairs."

His eyes squinted at her as he tried to comprehend what she had just told him, as if it was some unthinkable idea that had just been uttered. "Why would you do that?" He finally voiced. His eyes softened, "Do you need a break? We can pause for a while-"

"-No," she quickly interrupted. Her hands reached up to  move to his chest as they usually did, but she stopped halfway and let them drop back down to her lap.

It was beginning to frustrate Cregan. He was no dull man by any means. He had noticed her touches lessening, but he didn't question it at first until she began to retract from him.

"If you need no break then you'll stay here until we are finished," he softly commanded. 

She gave in almost immediately with the nod of her head.

He nodded as well, wishing to seem pleased, but further down he was trying to figure out what had caused her to be so odd as of late. He sighed and gripped her waist, pushing her back up to the table as before. He then turned and motioned for the next person to approach.

Cregan tried to pay attention this time, he really did, but it was harder to now that he had two problems to try to fix at once. And one them was far more important to him. 

He nodded along with the man for a while then tried to test his luck again, reaching over to place his hand on her knee again. But this time, his hand fell to the wood.

He looked over when he felt the coarse wood as began to stare dumbfounded at his hand.

His wife had slowly moved herself from him by about 10 centimeters.

His hand balled up into a fist for a moment before he forced to it relax. He held his other hand up and completely cut off the man speaking. "Forgive me. We're done for a moment. I require some time to collect my thoughts here."

The man jaw went slack for a moment and the maester spoke up. "Lord Stark, it's unwise to pause in the middle of-"

Cregan's glare shut him up.

"Now," Cregan said as he stood to full height. "I shall return momentarily." He stepped over to his wife, "Get up."

His voice held unresolved tension to it and it made her panic. Her shaky hands pushed her to the end of the table and onto her feet. 

Cregan's hand reached out to grab hers then paused, remembering why they were having this miscommunication in the first place and it only frustrated him more when he pulled his hand back. "Go on," he motioned to the door and quickly followed behind her. 

Just hearing the northern man's heavy footsteps close behind them would make even the bravest man falter. 

The moment the side door closed behind them, he grabbed her bicep and spun her around to him. "What are you doing?" He growled.

She couldn't make words come from her mouth, so she only shrugged a bit and gave a pitiful expression.

"Don't. You will speak to me and tell me what has caused all of this. Whatever this is," he huffed. "I don't know what it is, but I know that I hate it."

Her voice came out more broken than she intended, "I didn't mean to anger you."

Her words cause Cregan to release her bicep and take a step back from her. He runs a hand over his goatee. He tried to hide the anger from his voice this time, "I imagine you didn't. However, in no instance should you believe that pulling away from me wouldn't make me frustrated. I like having you near me. Have I not said that enough?"

"You have-"

"-You don't want my hands on you," he finished with a horrified look brewing in his eyes. "That is… fair. That is all we must say then."

"No, no, please don't!" She pleased.

He threw his hands up and let his emotions run free again, "Then what would you have me do? You want my touch but the second I give it to you, you shy away from me. I attempt to comfort your worries and you push my hand away." With each sentence, he gets closer. "Do you truly believe me so incompetent as your husband that I have not noticed your touches have become less and less on my skin? Did you think I would not notice the thing I look forward to the most suddenly disappear?"

He stops and the two just stare at one another. 

"I crave it," he whispered.

Hot tears pricked up against her eyes, threatening to fall. She sniffled in an attempt to hold everything in.

Cregan wills his hand out to brush against her cheek. "Why have you stopped?"

She finds herself leaning into his hand, and there’s no denying that she didn't yearn for his touch as well. "…the people…"

He tries to follow along, but a frown tugs at his lips. "I still don't understand."

She opened her mouth the speak, but a soft sob breaks through and she steps back from him.

He closed the gap once again, this time grabbing her face with both hands in an attempt to calm her. "Shh, stop that. My anger is through. I just wish to help you.:

She held back the rising sobs to speak with a shaky voice, "I'm far too… needy… to be your Lady."

HIs jaw goes slack as pure confusion washes over him. He took a moment to regain himself before speaking. "I swear to you that you are not." He forces her head up to catch his eye. "Do you hear me?" She nodded, but he tilted his head, "I need to hear you say it."

That forced a few more tears down her cheek.

"I have to hear you say it," he almost pleaded. "Tell me that you're perfect for me."

A hesitation came over her, but she pushed through at the sight of his gaze. "I…. "

He waited with bated breath. "You're what? Say it."

"I'm perfect for you."

A broad smile came over him. "Now I want you to believe that, yeah?" He pulled her in and gave her a searing kiss that made her lose her train of thought. "We are returning, and you will do anything that makes you better."

"Is that not improper?"

He scoffed, "I do not care if you were straddling me as you've done in our bed. If you're comfortable, then I am doing my duty to you."

She blushed deeply and playfully hit his arm. "I would not do that."

"I know that." He kissed her forehead and moved from her. "Shall we?" He asked with an extended arm.

She took it happily.

He leaned down as the door opened, "If that hadn't worked, I'd have hoped you would cave tonight when you truly crave my touch."

She entered the hall with a face darker than Lannister red.

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A/n 2: I'm updating my taglist, so if I somehow missed anyone that wants on it, lmk!

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123

A little bit of angst here, could I get one with cregan and rhaenyras daughter where, after their first child, reader and cregan are having difficulty making a second child. Eventually reader gets pregnant a joyous day for winterfell. As the weeks pass, cregan and reader are frequently spotted by the folk of winterfell sharing tender moments between one another, maybe a kiss to readers belly, maybe cregan almost always has a hand to her stomach etc. one day (maybe cregan is at the wall or on a hunt) reader receives a raven from dragonstone saying Jacaerys is dead. Readers grief overcomes her and she loses the baby. After news reaches cregan about Jace, he rushes home to comfort his wife, knowing she’d be overcome with grief, and he is met with the aftermath. Cregan is filled with grief and anger and a lust for revenge for the person at the hands of the death of his friend, the grief of his wife and the loss of his child.

The Gullet's Price

Requests are closed!

- Summary: The day you received the news about the death of your brother, another life was lost.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

The snow fell gently outside the thick stone walls of Winterfell, casting a blanket of white over the sprawling castle. Inside, however, warmth radiated from every hearth. You sat by the window, watching the snowflakes drift lazily in the twilight, your hand absentmindedly resting on your belly. The room was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire and the distant sound of footsteps from the courtyard below.

It had been months—many long, aching months—since you and Cregan had first tried for a second child. After the birth of your son, the heir to Winterfell, you had both longed for another, but it seemed the gods had been slow to answer your prayers. There had been whispers among the maesters, suggestions of herbs and tonics, but nothing had come of it. Each passing moon only deepened the ache in your heart, and though Cregan never showed it, you could see the worry in his eyes, the way his hand lingered on your shoulder a moment too long, the way he would pull you into his arms as if holding you close could somehow solve what was out of your control.

The door creaked open, and there he stood—Cregan, your husband, lord of Winterfell, with his ever-brooding presence softened by the sight of you. His dark hair fell loosely over his shoulders, and his grey eyes—so often stern in the face of duty—softened as they found yours. Without a word, he crossed the room, his boots barely making a sound against the stone floor, and knelt beside you, placing a warm hand on top of yours.

"Still watching the snow, love?" he asked, his voice low and filled with a tenderness reserved only for you.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It reminds me of the first night I spent here. You used to say the snow welcomed me to the North."

Cregan smiled at the memory, his fingers gently entwining with yours. "Aye, and it seems the North has claimed you as one of its own ever since."

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the snow drifting outside, and the fire crackling softly beside you. Then, without warning, Cregan shifted slightly, his free hand coming to rest on your belly—just as it had so many times before, a hopeful gesture, though for so long it had brought neither joy nor comfort.

You looked down at his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his touch. "Perhaps it's not meant to be," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Perhaps one child is all we were granted."

Cregan's grip tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing gently over the fabric of your dress. "You’ve always been stronger than fate, Y/N. If we are meant to have more children, we will. And if not..." He paused, looking up at you with such intensity that it made your heart skip a beat. "Then we will cherish the family we have."

The sincerity in his words brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away, leaning down to press a kiss to his brow. "I love you, Cregan Stark."

"And I love you," he whispered, his lips brushing against the skin of your belly as he spoke. It was such a simple act, but the tenderness of it, the love that radiated from him, made your chest swell with emotion.

The days passed slowly after that, each one blending into the next. Winter held the North in its grip, and though life within Winterfell continued as always, there was a quiet hope that lingered between you and Cregan, an unspoken understanding that perhaps, just perhaps, the gods had not forgotten you after all.

Then one morning, as the sun barely crested the horizon, you woke with a strange feeling in your stomach—not pain, but something else. Something new. You lay still for a moment, waiting, your heart pounding in your chest as realization dawned upon you.

"Cregan," you whispered, nudging him awake beside you.

He stirred, groggy from sleep, but the moment his eyes met yours, he was alert. "What is it?"

"I... I think I'm with child," you said, the words feeling foreign and yet so familiar on your tongue.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, Cregan sat up, his hand already moving to your belly as if to confirm what you had just said. His grey eyes were wide with disbelief, and for the first time in what felt like years, there was unrestrained joy in his expression.

"Are you certain?" he asked, though the hope in his voice was undeniable.

You nodded, tears already welling in your eyes. "I'm certain."

The joy that erupted in the days following was like nothing you had ever experienced before. Winterfell, normally so cold and solemn, felt alive with the news of your pregnancy. The people celebrated quietly at first, but soon the halls were filled with laughter and congratulations. The maesters confirmed your suspicions, and Cregan all but swept you into his arms, grinning like a man who had won the greatest battle of his life.

From that day on, it was rare to see you without Cregan by your side. He was never far from you, his hand constantly finding its way to your stomach as if to remind himself—and everyone else—that life was growing within you. The people of Winterfell spoke of it often, how their lord was more tender with you than they had ever seen before. Some swore they saw him press soft kisses to your belly when he thought no one was watching.

You, too, felt the change in him. His protectiveness over you grew tenfold, but so did his tenderness. He would sit with you by the hearth in the evenings, his hand resting on your belly as the fire crackled beside you. "I can't wait to meet our child," he'd say softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder if they'll have your eyes."

"And your stubbornness," you teased, smiling as he chuckled.

Every tender moment between you was a reminder of the love you shared. The people of Winterfell watched with quiet admiration, and as the weeks passed, it became clear that this child—your child—would be born into a house filled with love, protected by both the Starks and Targeryens.

One evening, as the snow began to fall once more, Cregan knelt before you, resting his head against your belly. "Our child will be here soon," he whispered, his voice full of wonder. "And I will love them just as much as I love you."

You smiled down at him, your hand stroking through his dark hair. "I know you will, my love. I know."

The sky was a cold, slate gray, reflecting the heaviness that weighed on your heart. You had been restless all day, your hand unconsciously drifting to your swollen belly as you paced the stone floors of Winterfell. Cregan had gone to the Wall, seeing to matters with the Night's Watch, and while he often left for such duties, his absence felt more pronounced today, leaving you feeling uneasy.

You paused at the window, watching the snow swirl in the bitter northern wind. There had been no ravens for days, no word from Dragonstone, and though you had tried to push away your fears, the growing knot in your stomach told you something was amiss.

And then, it came. The raven. Black wings against the pale sky.

When the maester handed you the scroll, your fingers trembled, sensing the weight of it before your eyes even scanned the words. It was from Dragonstone—your mother’s seal—but it was not her handwriting. The letters blurred as you read them, and the world around you seemed to vanish, leaving only the devastating truth in front of you.

Jacaerys is dead.

He had been slain at the Gullet, struck down during a battle with the greens. The words felt unreal, distant, as if they were written for someone else. But no, they were meant for you. Your Jace, your closest friend, your blood, was gone.

A choked sob escaped your lips, your body trembling as the grief hit you all at once. The scroll slipped from your hands and fell to the floor, unnoticed. All you could feel was the crushing weight of loss—the loss of your brother, of someone who had been part of your life for as long as you could remember. The one you had grown up with, laughed with, fought beside. The one who had been by your side during the most difficult moments of your life.

Jace.

You pressed your hand to your belly, your breaths coming in short, panicked gasps as the sorrow became overwhelming, twisting inside you like a blade. The baby... your baby. You could feel it—something was wrong. The sharp pain in your abdomen stole your breath, and suddenly the warmth you had cherished, the life growing within you, felt cold. Empty.

"No..." you whispered, stumbling backward as another wave of pain coursed through you. You clutched your stomach, but it was no use. The grief, the heartache—it was too much. You collapsed to the floor, clutching at your belly, the realization sinking in that the life you carried had slipped away, just as Jace had. Gone.

Servants found you there, unconscious and bleeding, their screams echoing through the halls of Winterfell as they rushed to fetch the maesters. But no maester, no amount of care, could undo what had already been done. By the time you awoke, it was too late. You had lost the baby.

When Cregan finally returned, having received word of Jacaerys's death at the Wall, his heart was already heavy with the knowledge of how devastated you would be. He had pushed his horse hard, riding through the night to return to you, knowing you would need him now more than ever.

But nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him.

The moment he stepped through the gates of Winterfell, he knew something was wrong. The air was thick with tension, the usual quiet bustle of the castle replaced with a heavy, oppressive silence. The servants barely met his eyes as they bowed, their faces pale. His chest tightened, fear creeping into his heart as he made his way through the familiar halls.

"Cregan," a voice called softly, and he turned to see the Maester Kennet approaching him with a grave expression. The look on his face confirmed Cregan's worst fears.

"She..." the maester began, his voice shaking slightly. "She lost the child, my lord. It happened shortly after the raven arrived from Dragonstone. The grief—"

Cregan didn’t wait for him to finish. He rushed past the maester, his heart pounding in his chest as he made his way to your chambers. He flung the door open, and there you were, lying in bed, pale and weak, your eyes red from crying. The sight of you like this, broken and devastated, was like a dagger to his heart.

You looked up when you heard the door, and when your eyes met Cregan’s, the dam broke again. Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks as you whispered, "He’s gone, Cregan... Jace is gone... and... our baby..."

Cregan crossed the room in an instant, gathering you into his arms, holding you as you wept into his chest. His own heart shattered as he held you, feeling the weight of your loss, your grief. He didn’t speak; words wouldn’t help, not now. All he could do was hold you, his strong arms wrapped around you as if he could somehow protect you from the pain you were feeling. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t shield you from this.

Inside, Cregan’s own grief began to twist into something darker—rage. Jacaerys had been his friend, one of the few he could trust in the turbulent world of war and politics. The news of his death was a blow to his own heart, but seeing you like this—broken and empty, having lost not only your brother but your child—it was unbearable.

He clenched his jaw, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. Whoever was responsible for Jacaerys’s death would pay. He would see to it. The rage that simmered in his veins burned hotter with every passing moment.

"I swear to you," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet fury, "whoever is responsible for Jace’s death will pay. I will see to it myself."

You lifted your tear-streaked face to look at him, and for a moment, you could see the storm brewing in his eyes. Cregan was always strong, always steady, but now—now there was something else in him. Something dangerous.

"Cregan," you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. "Don’t... please, don’t go."

His gaze softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently brushing away the tears from your cheek. "I won’t leave you, not now. But justice will be done, Y/N. For Jace, for our child. I promise you."

You closed your eyes, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace even as the world around you felt cold and desolate. Cregan held you tightly, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge, of the blood that would be spilled in the name of those you had lost.

He would not rest until the one responsible for this pain had paid with their life.

"The Hunt" - Cregan Stark x Velaryon!Reader

A/N: man im actually kinda proud of this damn

Summary: Your mother sends you, her eldest child and heir, North to garner support for the Blacks.

TW: profanity, innuendo, uses female pronouns and AFAB description, NSFW NSFW NSFW P IN V SEX, breeding kink, primal kink, lots of sluttiness, mentions of luke's death, mentions of prior incestuous relationship, very slutty times idk, unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it kids

Word Count: 3,679 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

HOTD Taglist (BOLD means it did not allow me to tag you): @jamespotterismydaddy @ietss @michaelcliffordbrokeintomyhouse @daenerysapologist @hopelesswritergall @fairysluna @champomiel @poppyreader

When your mother sent you as an envoy to Winterfell, you know she did so hoping to earn Cregan Stark’s loyalty with a marriage pact. A marriage to bind the Wolf in the North to you, her beloved daughter. While you always thought you’d be betrothed to your beloved twin, Jace, the light of your life, circumstances made it imperative that he marry Baela, to secure Princess Rhaenys’s support in Luke’s claim to Driftmark. Jace and you mourned the loss of your love before it began, but swore to do your duty, setting all dreams of being together aside for the good of the Realm.

Then, Aegon usurped your mother’s crown and the time came for alliances to be made. Luke was sent to Storm’s End, Jace to the Vale, and you to Winterfell. Being your mother’s eldest child, the Princess of Dragonstone now, you were to go the furthest distance. The strongest of her children. The bravest.

As you and your two younger brothers readied to mount your dragons, you quickly ran over and embraced them both, as tightly as you could. First, you turned to Luke and gave him an almost motherly kiss on the forehead, urging him to be careful. Then, you turned to Jace and shared a kiss. Just one. It was chaste and it said a thousand words, and it was over before it began.

As you and your brothers took to the skies, you had a sinking feeling in your heart, and you didn’t understand why. You’re not a dreamer like Helaena. You don’t know the future. You just knew… Something was going to happen. A feeling in the pit of your stomach.

When you reached Winterfell, your suspicions were soon proved correct. When you landed your mighty beasts at the gates of Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark and his retainers are there to greet you. The young Lord Stark’s handsome features were the first thing you noticed. Those piercing gray eyes that seemed to see right through you and knew all your secrets. His mouth was set into a grim line as you hopped off of your dragon.

“Lord Stark,” you spoke calmly, “What has happened?”

“Your brother, my princess. Prince Lucerys… He is dead.”

Such awful words had never been said from such a beautiful mouth. You felt as though your whole world had come crashing down on you. But, you managed to calm yourself, taking a sharp breath.

“Thank you for telling me, Lord Stark,” you said quietly, giving him a polite and what you hoped to be kindsmile, “I’m sure it must have been very difficult for you.”

The first few days you were at Winterfell, you hardly emerged from your guest chambers. You sobbed and sobbed, wanting nothing more than to be reunited with your little brother. Your precious Luke. The first baby you ever held, the one who you took for his first dragon ride. The ache in your heart was unbearable.

On the fifth day of your stay, you finally emerged, feeling slightly more like yourself. Cregan approached you.

“My princess, would you mind very much if I showed you my favorite place in Winterfell?”

You looked up at him, eyes still red from the oceans of tears you’d cried, “Yes, Lord Stark, please lead the way.”

And Cregan Stark smiled at you. From all the rumors you’ve heard, he’s a gruff and serious man, his life tainted by tragedies no one should have to suffer at such a young age. But he gave you the kindest, most beautiful smile you thought you’d ever seen. He led you to the Godswood, telling you that is where he went when his beloved younger brother died. And his father. Cregan, it seemed, had suffered much as you had.

And so, the two of you were drawn together, constantly spending time together. He took you through the worst of your grief.

And he fell in love with you. So deeply that it terrified him. The Wolf in the North wasn’t used to this feeling that overtook him when he was around you. This warmth in his chest. The quickening of his breath and rapid beating of his heart. But, he knew. It was love. He was in love with you. And judging by the way you snuck glances at him whenever you thought he wasn’t looking, he was quite sure you felt the same.

You weren’t like anyone he’d ever met before. Certainly, Northern ladies had their own charm. Honest and hardworking, kind and strong. But there was a playfulness about you, a certain mischievousness that he found entirely irresistible. He found himself adoring every moment he spent with you, craving your presence like a starving man in the desert craves water to quench his thirst. And of course, his thoughts did not remain entirely free of more… Unmentionable desires for long.

The way your dresses seemed to be fitted a bit more than the ones he’d seen Northern girls wear. The way your hips swayed when you walked, effortlessly enticing him. Your sweet scent, your voice. Everything.

Cregan read your mother’s letter the day you had arrived, but chose not to mention it quite yet, wanting you to take your time to grieve. The letter proposed a marital alliance, joining the houses of Stark and Targaryen by wedding the two of you. The Lord of Winterfell and the rightful Princess of Dragonstone. Cregan was not opposed to the idea, of course, rather he supported the notion wholeheartedly. He simply wanted to wait for the right moment to broach the subject.

That moment comes this night, the night of a feast to celebrate your twin’s success in garnering alliances for the Blacks. Hearing news of Jace’s endeavors warms your heart, the news that he remains safe and out of harms way, away from the vengeful wrath of your uncles.

Tonight, it is a full moon. And despite the feasting and celebration, there is a heaviness in the air. At least there is when your gaze meets Cregan’s from across the table. You aren’t a fool. You know he desires you. Just as you desire him. But tonight, it seems to go beyond that. Those gray Stark eyes are filled with something deeper than lust when he looks at you.

This is no mere man. This is a wolf and his only desire is to devour you whole.

After the feasting is done, you wander out to the Godswood, sitting on a bench in front of the Heart Tree, in hopes that he follows you. And like a moth to the flame, he does. He comes and gives you a low bow, taking a seat beside you.

“My princess,” his voice is a low rumble in your ear that sends a thrill up your spine, “I am glad you are finding Winterfell to your liking.”

You nod, moving to sit even closer to him, not really giving a damn about the danger to your reputation. There is something so intoxicating about his presence. Ever since you came to Winterfell, any moment you have spent not in his company has felt downright torturous.

“I certainly am, Lord Stark, your home is beautiful,” you give him what you hope is a normal enough smile that doesn’t betray your absolutely depraved thoughts about the man standing next to you.

“Princess, how many times must I ask you to call me Cregan?” he gives you what you might have thought to be a soft smile, if you didn’t see the dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“As many times as it takes for you to remember to call me by my name, Lord Stark,” you retort.

Cregan chuckles, his eyes traveling the expanse of your body, taking in your form-fitting dress, “Might I say, Princess, that you look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

A lesser woman would be terrified, sitting in the company of a man who is so imposing, with that much hunger in his gaze. But you? You are a dragon. You’re quite sure your eyes must betray your intentions as well. And so you smile and take his extended arm.

“You are very kind, Cregan.”

Cregan has to hold himself back from pushing you down against the stone bench and taking you right then and there at the mere sound of you speaking his name. Just a little longer, he thinks to himself, Just a little bit longer.

“Walk with me, Princess?” he asks, standing up and extending a hand to you.

When you smile and stand to take his hand, he can’t help but think how much smaller your hand is than his. How different it would feel to have the smooth, soft skin of your hand running up and down the length of his cock. His mouth nearly waters at the thought, but he’s soon snapped back to reality when you break the silence between the two of you as you stroll through the Godswood.

“You’re quite tall, you know,” the words sound stupid coming out of your mouth the moment you say them.

Cregan gives you a smile you can only describe as one a starved predator may give before advancing on its prey, “Yes, it’s a trait with us Northerners. Though, it certainly has its advantages.”

“I can imagine,” you laugh, squeezing his hand gently.

His breath catches in his throat at the feeling. No one has ever made him feel this… Out of control before. No one can drive him as crazy as you do. The two of you walk for a while longer, under the light of the full moon. Then, you let go of his hand, disappointing him for but a minute, to go lean against one of the trees.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you comment, turning your eyes to the sky.

Cregan stares at you unabashedly, because in this moment, you look like some fallen deity come to earth. The moonlight illuminates your skin in a way that makes you look almost ethereal. He takes a deep breath and takes his first step. He stands directly in front of you, towering over you, as he rests one hand on the tree behind you, effectively caging you in.

He moves his other hand to hold your chin, running his thumb across your bottom lip, admiring how soft it feels against his skin, “You’re beautiful. You know that?”

You gaze up at him, “Thank you, Lord Stark. You aren’t so bad to look at yourself.”

His laugh isn’t really a laugh. It’s more of a bark of laughter. Something like a wolf howling. The way he gazes at you, with those hooded gray eyes, makes you wonder…

Does the honorable Lord Stark intend to let his inner wolf run free tonight? Seven hells, you hope so.

For his part, Cregan wants it noted for posterity that he really has tried everything not to turn into a wild beast tonight. He tried to keep a respectable distance, which didn’t go according to plan. He tried not to stare at how the curves of your body were perfectly accentuated by your dress, but failed miserably. He tried not to let out a low growl of appreciation when he felt the bare skin of your hand touch his.

And now, with you leaning against a tree in the Godswood, not a soul in sight save for the two of you…

He wonders just how far you’re willing to indulge his… Animal instinct.

“What are your thoughts on the alliance my mother proposed?” you ask curiously.

Cregan can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face at the fact that you’re the one who brought up the subject first, “I find it to be an excellent idea. And you, Princess? I know you Southerners find us to be quite different.”

He moves his hand from your chin to run down your neck, caressing it. The further to the curve of your waist. Cregan pulls you flush up against him and smirks at the quiet yelp of surprise you let out.

“Are you alright, little one?” he smirks, “Are you too delicate for this Northerner?”

You scoff, “Cregan Stark, I am the blood of the dragon. The blood of Old Valyria. I assure you that I can handle anything you throw my way.”

“Oh, can you?” Cregan chuckles under his breath, leaning in toward you, his nose nearly brushing against yours as he whispers hoarsely, “Do you desire me, little dragon? Do you yearn for me the way I yearn for you?”

You look up at him through half-lidded eyes. Perhaps it’s the magic of the full moon or the spirits in the Godswood, but you don’t think you can resist this man much longer, nor your desire for him. The Starks value honor and honesty. So you admit it to him.

“Yes, my lord, I do desire you,” you murmur, biting your lower lip.

His eyes follow your actions and he shakes his head, “No, little dragon,” he gently presses his thumb against your lower lip, making you stop the action, “Don’t bite that pretty lip. That’s my job now.”

And then his mouth descends upon yours. He tangles one hand in your hair as he presses your body up against the tree, using his other to hike one of your legs up onto his hip. His lips are chapped from the bitter cold of Winterfell, but the passion, the desire, the hunger with which he kisses you makes you forget that entirely. He tugs on your hair, making you moan into his mouth.

His voice is gravelly with desire as he speaks, angling your face so you meet his stormy gray eyes, “Do you fear me, little dragon? Do you fear your wolf?”

“Dragons have nothing to fear from wolves, my lord,” you tease.

He peppers kisses along your jawline, down to your neck, where he nips at your sensitive skin, “But what if this wolf were to bite?”

“I think you’re all bark and no bite,” you goad him on, running a hand through his hair, “All talk and no-”

You let out an audible gasp when he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, leaving what is sure to be a sizable bite mark. He laves attention on the mark with his tongue and lips, soothing you after that brief moment of both pleasure and pain.

“You’ve been claimed by a wolf, little dragon,” Cregan presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “How do you feel about that?”

“I’d hardly call a little nip from a wolf pup claiming,” you retort.

He pulls back and gives you a devious grin, “Oh? How would you suggest I claim my pretty dragon then?”

You give him a coy grin in return and speak, lowering your voice, “Why, by hunting me down in these woods and claiming me properly.”

His pupils are blown so wide you can hardly see the gray of his eyes. His lips pull back in something halfway between a snarl and a smile.

“You wish me to hunt you, Princess?” he grips your jaw in one of admittedly large hands, “I’ll hunt you down and claim what is mine if that is what you desire.”

“It is,” you whisper.

He nods, his body almost trembling with excitement, “I shall give you a head start then, my sweet princess. You’d best get to running and hiding. I know these woods like the back of my hand. Wherever you go, I promise you, I will find you.”

You step away from the tree and give him a cheeky smile before darting off deeper into the woods as he counts to twenty. You can hear his low baritone, almost taunting you as he calls out the numbers. You continue running, your cheeks flushing from excitement and exertion all at once.

Then, he reaches the number twenty and he begins chasing after you. You hear his footsteps and break into a sprint, dodging branches and jumping over tree roots. The chase is exhilarating for him and you both.

Cregan watches as your figure weaves between the trees. He licks his lips. He can almost taste you on his tongue as he chases after you. Just barely out of his reach.

You duck behind a tree, watching him run past, holding back a laugh at having so easily bested him. But you also feel slightly disappointed that now he won’t find you and thereby won’t claim you as he said he would. You step back out only to be shoved up against the very tree you hid behind.

“Found you,” he growls before his mouth descends on yours again.

You wrap yourself around him, wanting to feel him as close to you as you possibly can. Your hands are in his hair, legs wrapped against his wait as you grind yourself against him, craving whatever friction he can provide. He sets you down for a moment.

“Get that fucking dress off, little dragon.”

It’s not a request, it’s a command. And one you’re happy to oblige. Your fingers shake as you begin to undo the bodice of your dress. But apparently, you’re going a bit too slow for his liking. He lets out a quiet snarl, pushes your hands away, and rips the bodice of your dress in half. You stare up at him in shock.

“I…”

He quickly tears the rest of the dress off of you, leaving you in only your small clothes. He makes quick work of your shift, ripping that as well. You absently wonder how in the world you’re going to sneak back into the castle without any clothes. You’re now only in your underwear and corset.

“Never understood why people wear these,” Cregan’s breath is a low hiss when he tears the corset open, licking his lips when your breasts spill free.

Immediately, he’s pushing you down to the forest floor, his mouth on your neck, your breasts, anything he can test. He mouths at one of your nipples while his rough hand squeezes the other, making you whimper slightly.

“Fuck, Cregan…”

He pulls back slightly, tossing his cloak aside and making quick work of his own clothes. Before you know it, he’s standing in front of you, bare. The sight of his already hard, weeping cock makes you rub your thighs together in anticipation. He leans back over you again, his body more than covering yours. His hand moves to stroke you between your legs. He chuckles darkly.

“It seems you won’t need much preparing, little dragon. You’re already soaked for me.”

And with one thrust, he sheathes all of himself inside of you. You let out a choked gasp, surprised at just how good he feels inside of you. He fills you so completely that you wonder why you even bothered trying to resist this feeling for so long.

“When I get started,” he breathes sharply, “I’m not going to stop. Do you want this?”

You nod.

He shakes his head, gripping your chin in his hand, “I need you to speak plainly, my love. Do you want this?”

“Yes, Cregan.”

He gives you a devilish grin and picks up your legs, wrapping them around him as he begins pounding into you without abandon. You bury your face in his neck, mewling little whines that sound vaguely like his name. But your thoughts are incoherent. All you can think of his long, thick cock that’s filling you up so perfectly, driving deeper and deeper into you with every powerful thrust.

He hits a certain spot inside of you that makes you arch your back up off the ground and let out a loud squeal of his name, “Fuck, Cregan, yes, right there!”

He nips at your throat and continues fucking into you harder. He feels you squeezing around him tighter and tighter with every movement, your warm wet walls gripping him like a vice to the point where he thinks he can barely move until he feels your arousal coat his cock. He glances up to meet your eyes and grins, picking you up off the ground and shoving you against the tree, fucking into you with a renewed vigor. It’s almost too much for you as you babble incoherently, begging him to go harder, faster, as he continues his efforts.

You feel him spill his seed inside you, coating your walls as you reach your peak for the second time that night. His lips meet yours in a lazier, less hungry but just as passionate kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, “And I want you to be my wife. To bear my children. To be the one I share my life with.”

“I want that too,” you whisper back as you feel him grow hard against your leg, “Seven hells, Cregan, you are insatiable.”

He kisses you and turns you around so your bare chest is pressed against the tree. He leans forward to kiss your neck before whispering in your ear.

“You’ve set this insatiable wolf free, my dragon. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

You let out a loud moan of his name as he takes you from behind, the angle feeling different but just as pleasurable as both ways he took you before.

“I’m going to spill my seed inside you again,” he growls into your ear as he fucks into you, “Watch your belly swell with my babe.”

“Yes, fuck, Cregan,” you whine as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, pulling out and slamming himself back into you.

When the two of you have finally become so exhausted that you simply must sleep, Cregan wraps his cloak around you and carries you back to the castle. You’re half asleep, simply gazing up at him, while he smiles down at you.

He takes you to his chambers and has a warm bath drawn for you.

Then, his maester comes to him.

A visitor has just arrived and wishes to speak with both Cregan and you.

Prince Jacaerys is in Winterfell.

Hello,

I am Sohad,

I am a fundraiser for my family in Gaza: my parents, sister and (3) brothers and their wives and children, as all of them live in a tent in khanyounes city after they displaced 4 times without any basic facilities. And they lost their jobs without any income. And our house is partially destroyed.

My nephew Kareem and my mother need a medical help.

I hope to help them to provide their daily expenses, get medication and to evacuate my family to safe zone.

We need your support to share my campaign, your help makes a big difference in their lives.

Their lives are in danger at any moment.

Please keep my family in your thoughts and prayers 🙏🙏

My campaign is vetted by @90-ghost and @el-shab-hussien

Thanks in advance

PLEASE GO DONATE!!!

Hate a ginger bitch till they're gorgeous af

Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. 🕊️🇵🇸

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

DONATE!!!

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

Thank you!!!! I hope everything works out for you and your family!!! I try my best!!!

PLEASE IF YOU DO NOW KNOW GO DONATE TO ANY FUND YOU SEE EVEN IF ITS SMALL!!!

Hello this is me Aya.. ‏🇵🇸

Imagine having everything and suddenly you wake up with nothing left.That's exactly what happened with us .we moved from having everything to having nothing.In a blink of an eye ,we lost everything, our house ,dreams,

memories belongings and our works. We are starting from zero and need your help to climb the leader step by step from scratch.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are, especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza!

Please continue to support us by donating directly or by sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over.

https://gofund.me/c4c2cf82ا

Thank you!!! I try to do the best I can!!!

GO DONATE!!! DO ANYTHING YOU CAN TO HELP WITH THE WAR!!!

To all Palestine supporters 🙏

🫂🫂

We still need less than 300€ to reach our short term goal of 23k€ ‼️

Your donations are important for our survival

Please help me reach our goal as soon as possible 🙏

We appreciate your help ❤️🙏

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GO HELP THEM REACH THEIR GOAL!!! HELP THE PALESTINIAN PEOPLE!!!

they definitely explored each other’s bodies

“cregan and jacaerys took a liking to each other. they drank together, hunted together, trained together, and swore an oath of brotherhood, sealed in blood.”

Okay but him , like his accent is so hot it's stuck in my mind🤭

When my lord husband is not in the next season hotd I will lose it

𝖁.𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔, 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖘.

𝕴'𝖒 𝖁.𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓.

Welcome to my Tumblr blog! I’m glad to have you here.

I use she/they pronouns for future reference.

You can find my Ao3 account under the same username as this account (Vampyrevogue)

Currently, I am working on an original work but I’ll certainly be glad to take any asks and requests!!

now, that being said I should let you know what I do and don’t write

I write for:

House of the Dragon

Jacaerys Velaryon

Laena Velaryon

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Helaena Targaryen

Alicent Hightower

Cregan Stark

This is my main fandom currently, however I am certainly willing to take requests for just about any fandom! but I may not get around to it!

i DO NOT write anything involving pedophilia, non-con, watersports (scat or piss), or anything yucky like that in general

Please send me some requests!! I'm eager to do some writing for you all.

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖞, 𝖁.𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓

Hey there, my loves.

I'm close to finishing up my orginal fic for my A03, but in the mean time to keep my 'writing flow' going I'd really appreciate some asks/requests.

Any of the characters on my list would be great!

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖞, 𝖁.𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖓

Hello, everyone.

Sorry for my insane absence (again) I've been quite busy, however lucky for you guys I'm super sick which gives me a great amount if time to write asks so send them in.

the cregan girlies need to he fed more often I think.

On that note, that's my purpose of this post. To get back in track of writing, I'm thinking some cregan stark headcanons.

This is a cregan stark x a reader that is very Helaena coded, because I relate to her on an embarrassing level and I wanna project for a little bit. Yall are gonna see ALOT of I thinks in this post sorry😔

Content: fluff only fluff today sorry yall, but I love that domestic life.

-As much as I think cregan would have a dislike for bugs or insects of any kind he'd definitely put that aside for you.

On that same note, he 100% seems like the type to get you anything and do anything for you;because as we all know northerners are fiercely loyal and the starks are honorable men at that. And cregan is no exception to that.

- He'd so spend so much time with you in any of your favorite spots, the garden even in the dead of night;just to see that contented look on your face when you're at peace.

-i think he'd always have the finest silks and fabrics and jewels he could get his hands on given to you, I just know he loves to spoil you and see your face light up with joy everytime he gives you a gift.

And he LOVES seeing you in any gown that he has made for you.

-i also think he'd be great at detecting your emotions. In a crowded place and you're getting super anxious and fidgety? He knows and he's escorting you to a quiet hallway or room so you can collect yourself.

He definantly cherishes you with all his being and he always makes sure to tell and show you that, he always wants you by his side no matter where he is.

On the other hand of his character, I think he's very possessive of you especially if you're shy and naive of sorts. I feel like if another man would even consider ogling you or touching you he'd immediately have his head on a spike.

He'd definitely defend you and your honor with his entire being, he wont let *anyone* insult you ever.

With that same train of thought, i feel like he'd bring you any mans head if you so wished it. He's that loyal.

Okay you guys that's literally I can conjure up in my little brain at the moment, and I know its insanely rambly and doesnt make much sense infact it's probably not even that great but I hope yall enjoyed it.

~Yours truly, V.carmen

Illness

Cregan stark × Fem!reader

Warnings:Fluff, super sweet cregan, Illness.

This fic is definitely not me projecting because of how I'll I am currently. Short little drabble.

It was late in the afternoon when The lord of winterfell heard the news of his dear lady-wife falling Ill. He had woken early as he usually did, though this morning he had decided to leave you sleeping soundly in your shared chambers;he spent his whole day in council meetings and in the training grounds.

When you're dearest handmaiden had burst into winterfell council chambers to inform cregan of your illness he had immediately stood up rushing through the halls of the formidable keep toward your shared chambers.

As he entered the room his eyes immediately found you, laid in bed in a delirious state drenched in sweat and sniffling heavy. Your cheeks were a bright pink and your eyes barely open and you flex your aching knees under the covers, one ofyour hands thrown over your forehead as one of your handmaidens attempted to dab your forehead with a cold damp cloth.

“out all of you” Cregan says gruffly, his gaze shifting to the other maids in the room who were running a bathfor your.

They quickly scurry out, the maid who was by your side originally handing him the damp cloth. Your heavy breathing and sniffling wasthe only noise left in the room as he approached you with a softened look on his face, taking a seat beside you and gently placing the cloth on your forhead. His hand comes up to gently caress your face, sighing softly at the hurt of seeingyou in such a state.

“how do you feel, my girl?”he asks, he tone soft yet it still had its usual northern gruffness. He knew the answerto his question already, he just wanted to know you were not completely lost in fever.

“bad”you murmur quietly, a soft cough following your voice. Your weary eyes open a little more, examining the soft look on his face.

“there is a bath drawn, should you wish to get in it. I'll have some soup brought to you” she says, wipingyour sweat drenched hair from your forehead.

You contemplate for a moment, your head turning to the large copper bathtub in the center of the room. You groan at the though of relaxing your aching limbs in the steamy water. Nodding slightly, you wearily swing your legs over the edge of the bed, taken small and shaky steps toward the tub. Cregan stands behind you his arm barely on your back as he attempts to steady your steps, quick to help you tie your hair back and strip of your nightgown;he holds his hand out assisting you in sinking yourself into the tub before leaning at the side, his hand still intertwined with yours.

You lean your head against the copper tub, sinking fully into the water with a large sigh. Cregan hands you a glass of water,and you sip it quickly as if you had not ever drank water.

“you must rest well, my love”he whispersto you, his hand running throughyour hair gently.

You looked at cregan with a gracious smile, thankful for his presence beside you more than ever. You knew this was going to be a long and aching time of sickness but you were just glad cregan was by your side as he always promised he would be.

Short and sweet as alway, hope yall enjoy it. Yknow the drill please send asks in if you have them❤.

Sincerely, V.carmen.

you know what to do.

Reader :X Alicent hightower X Daemon Targaryen X Cregan stark

Smut

This is lowkey an insane crack fic waiting to happen.

Chat is this something yall would actually like to see?

I'll write it if it is, trust 🙏

Yours truly,V.carmen