Cregan X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Can you write a Cregan Stark x Targaryen wife where she is readying to go to the battle since she is the rider of Cannibal and he is with her nervous and makes her promise to come back to him and before she leaves he tells Cannibal to take care of her, he is nervous the whole time that she is away only calming down when he sees her and Cannibal come back.

omg i love this 🥹 wc: 1.7k

warnings: reader is a targaryen (parents and family are unspecified), cannibal's rider, ooc cannibal, cregan loves his wife and will never stop, reader has silver hair and is shorter than cregan (its okay tho he's huge)

After being away all day, the only thing that Cregan wants is to be in your arms. He searches around Winterfell, looking to find a glimpse of silver hair. He finds you in your chambers, hunched over the small desk by the window.

The candle you had lit was almost gone and you didn’t hear him enter. He stalks over to you, noticing your riding clothes on the settee by the bed.

“Did you go out today, my love?” He leans over you from behind, kissing you on the cheek.

You are hesitant to respond, just staring at a message that had arrived this morning. Cregan takes a knee beside you, trying to read the message that has taken all of your attentoin grasped in your hands.

My dearest kin, the Hightower usurpers have taken the lives of the Prince Lucerys Velaryon and the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, along with their dragons. The Rogue Prince and his dragon still remain to be of any help in our time of war. The Queen remains cautious and Vermax is still much too young to be of great help. Baela is doing the best she can on Moondancer, patrolling the East ends of the Riverlands and the Reach, but we need more. My mother has recruited mongrels to ride Seasmoke, Vermithor, and Silverwing. We need you and Cannibal, here, on Dragonstone at once — a command from the Heir to the Iron Thone.

Cregan freezes. You rub a hand over his knotted hair. He reads over the message again, and again, and again. You were going to war, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He stood from his position, making his way over to the settee where your clothes were layed out. He cleared his throat, pushing out the feelings he was having.

You followed his actions, standing from your place at the desk.

“I must go.”

“I know,” he wouldn’t look at you, running his hand over his face.

You sauntered closer to him, “Cregan, look at me.”

He turned his body and his head, but his eyes were still focused on the floor of your chambers. You walked to him, pressing your body against his and taking his face in your hand; you could feel the beginning of a beard forming.

Pushing his face, you forced him to look at you, “Talk, please.”

“I do not know what you want me to say. You must go. It was a command, so it is final. They need you.”

His tone was soft and quiet, much different than the harsh and commanding tone he usually had. He held his hands on your waist.

“When shall you go?”

You take a breath, “I shall leave at first light.”

He brought his head down to rest on your shoulder. You pull him further into you, holding the back of his head tightly.

You pull from him, getting in your shared bed. You pat the spot next to you, asking him to come to bed with you. He discards his pelts, weapons, armour, outer clothes, and shoes, and gets into bed with you.

He lays against the headboard, you lay against his chest. He wraps his large arm around you, rubbing circles into your bicep.

“Rickon…” you began, thinking of the son you had become a mother to when you and Cregan had wed.

“Rickon will be cared for only by me and any hand maids of your choosing. He will have the best education and training - your name will be spoken highly at every meal and at every sleep—”

You sniffled softly, thinking of your boy, “I do not wish for him to forget me.”

Cregan felt his eyes get hot with tears, he pulled you closer into his warmth, “He will not forget you. I will make sure of that.”

Your breathing started to stable and your grip on his arm faltered. As you slept, Cregan could not find any shut-eye, worried about you.

He watched you the whole night. Watching as your chest rose and fell, and how your silver locks were splayed across the feather pillows and across your face.

It was nearly sun-up when your husband woke you. Your eyes fluttered open, you blinked roughly a couple of times to adjust your vision. Cregan paced around the room.

Instead of your handmaiden, Cregan, himself, helped you to dress for battle. You stopped in your son’s chambers, only waking him for a second to say your farewells. You kissed him back to sleep, tucking him in tightly; tears only fell after you closed his chamber doors and headed out to your dragon.

Making your way out of the walls of Winter Town, you found Cannibal in a large field dusted with snow. At your arrival, he huffed out to greet you, trying to rub his head over your chest.

You smiled, brushing over his scales with your hand. Cannibal awaited your mounting as you turned to your husband.

Grabbing his hand, you looked at him solemnly, “My lord husband, if the Gods decide I have served my time and served Westeros well… and I do not return,” you paused to take a breath, “I want you to take another to wed. Do not spend your life grieving over me. Rickon deserves a mother and you deserve more heirs—”

He grabbed both sides of your face, “I do not want to take another to wed. I do not need more heirs. I only need you,” he shakes his head roughly, the morning light hitting his features majestically.

“I will not even look in the direction of another. I will not take another to bed or wed. I will wait at the gates of Winter Town for your arrival. I will pray every sun-up and sun-down for your safe return. You will not be forgotten and there will never be another.”

“Cregan—” he cut you off with a kiss.

“Promise me you will come back,” his brows were furrowed, his face still close to yours.

You nodded to all of your extent, “I promise. I promise.”

He kissed you feverishly once more, finally letting you go, “I will send thousands of greybeards after you. They will meet you at the battle.”

Smiling, you sighed, beginning to mount Cannibal when he called out your name loudly. You turned your head one last time towards his booming voice, “Fight hard. Like a Northerner!”

A single tear ran down your face as you took off. Cannibal screeched, his sounds filling the Northern air. Cregan waited until you were out of site before he turned back to Winterfell.

-

He kept his promise; that night he began his prayers in the Godswood, dragging Rickon along with him.

After your departure he became cold and distant from his people and his men. He would spend many weeks at a time North of the Wall, trying to distract himself from you, but never forgetting his prayers.

His bastard sister was chosen to care for Rickon, and even as his sister, he could not stand seeing another woman care for him.

After the first year, he began bringing the young lord to Castle Black with him, though he was only about 4 years old.

He would occassionally get ravens from wherever you were in battle, but after a while, the messages lessened, eventually stopping. He did not want to assume the worst, thinking you were too busy to write to him.

After tireless pleas of his advisors telling him to remarry, he had killed nearly all of them for even suggesting such a thing. He had never been tempted to take another to bed; the only thing that kept him going was thoughts of you.

He grew his beard out in those long years you were away, his face seeing many harsh winters.

His eyes were sunken, he had become someone he no longer recognized in the mirror. His son had blossomed into a strong young lad, becoming great in battle at his ripe age of seven.

Rickon and his father were very close, only really having one another. They prayed for you every morn and night together, they prayed for you over every meal, and Cregan told many stories of you to his son.

Your memory never faltered, almost as if you were still in the North.

Nearly 5 years after your departure on that cold, dark morn, whispers in the wind had said the Blacks had succeeded in taking back the throne. The realm had lost the Prince Regent, the Usurper King and his wife, the dowager queen, and the youngest hightower prince.

The Starks were at supper when Winterfell’s guards yelled from every tower and station, “Dragon!”

“Dragon!”

Cregan and Rickon immediately perked up, sharing a look and sprinting to their horses. They raced to the gates of Winter Town, shouting at everyone on the streets in their way.

Almost jumping off their horses, Cregan and Rickon watched you and Cannibal land in front of them.

You looked a lot older, your silver hair was much longer and braided up, you held a stoic and stong look on your face. Cregan could tell you had been changed by the war.

You dismounted, running through the snow to your small family. Cregan grabbed you tightly, breathing into your hair, tears overflowing.

You kissed him hard, crying through it. You held his face and smiled through your tears, “Look at this beard!”

He laughed softly, “Five years and that is the first thing you say to me?”

You notice your son standing not too far away, turning to him, you cried more. He was so grown, standing at almost 8 years of age now. You knelt, holding out your arms, “My boy.”

He ran into your embrace, squeezing you tightly. Cregan knelt with you, taking both of your bodies into his arms. Cries and sniffles surrounded your family as you reunited.

Rickon finally broke the silence, wiping your tears, he held onto your shoulder, “Tell us stories about the war! Father told be the same stories of you for years, now we have more!”

You laughed, looking at your husband, “I will tell you all about my adventures tomorrow, but now I just want to be with my family again.”

———

taglist: @wolvestitches

can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty

Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well. 

I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3.  Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened

p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),

—

When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you. 

They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all. 

You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list. 

Until one of them changed your mind. 

It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty. 

‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath. 

Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.

As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne. 

‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.

‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’

You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’ 

Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl. 

‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.

‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile. 

‘’They were really good.’’ 

‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.

Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice. 

The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses. 

Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back. 

From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself. 

He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.

You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college. 

‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’ 

You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.

Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’ 

He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating. 

Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later. 

You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home. 

Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs. 

‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’ 

He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck. 

The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing  in the parking lot. 

Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.  

You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends. 

You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them? 

Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship. 

You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier. 

He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place. 

He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away. 

Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.  

‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’

Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.

He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’

Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’

You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game. 

Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’ 

‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’ 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  

Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it. 

It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later. 

When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him. 

He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.

The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.

His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl. 

''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.  

The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again. 

Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.

He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’

You hummed, although confused where he was going with this. 

‘’This is better.’’ 

Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm. 

The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.

You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.

Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.

Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.

‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast. 

It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions. 

He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight. 

You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing. 

Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing. 

You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’ 

He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.  

‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway. 

You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy. 

‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter. 

You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''

Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.

You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…

‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.

Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''

‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed. 

It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself. 

His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  

Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.

You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.

Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him. 

More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.

Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.  

You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose. 

Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.

‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.

‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.

You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’ 

‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’

‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.

Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’ 

Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.

The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.

Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand. 

‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’ 

He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now. 

You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’ 

Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire. 

You didn't mean to. It was an accident. 

The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him. 

When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.

Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice. 

You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up. 

Your morning coffee was calling your name.

Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands. 

You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax. 

He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.

‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’ 

Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’ 

His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.  

‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.

He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’

‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.

Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’

You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’ 

To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom. 

‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder. 

You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’ 

‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday. 

Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom

You: You found us bus tickets? 

Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨

You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀

Jace: He’s not

You should have known it would be him. 

Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.

Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music. 

This weekend was looking to be long and difficult. 

Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving. 

''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.'' 

''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''

Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?'' 

Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?'' 

At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.  

When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room. 

You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture. 

Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew. 

You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated. 

Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake. 

‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say. 

He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom. 

So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.

‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.

Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice. 

Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''

You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’

‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.

At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.

At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up. 

‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?'' 

You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.

The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either. 

‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.'' 

You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug. 

Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food. 

You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.

Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.

‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''

The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.

You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you. 

You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you. 

Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’

‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.

Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’ 

Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.  

Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide. 

Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’

‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true. 

The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.

Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face.  ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’

‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.

But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’  

He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you. 

‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.

Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’  

The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances. 

What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway. 

You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms. 

The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.

The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it. 

It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.

—

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𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - cregan stark

cregan stark x fem reader

summary: to grab your attention, cregan keeps parking his car in your spot. as you deal with his frustrating habit, you both end up clashing and forming a connection you didn’t see coming.

warnings: smut. sub cregan. oral (f receiving). pnv (mentions). breaking celibacy. reader doesn’t have too much patience. cregan likes to test her. fluff. modern au.

wc: +6k (sorry lol), english is not my first language.

The morning sun spread across the horizon, casting a golden glow that gradually enveloped the parking lot where Cregan sat in his Jeep. The light crept across the dashboard and lazily kissed his chiseled features and stubbly beard as he took slow, steady drags from his morning cigarette, the smoke rising in spirals and mingling with the annoyingly warm air filtering through the half-open window.

It was the end of summer, and although the weather had cooled slightly from the peak in July, the heat still lingered, a constant reminder of how much he disapproved of high temperatures and everything they brought. He had a nearly visceral aversion to them—during the summer, clothes would cling uncomfortably to his body, and the constant sweat seemed to eat away at him from within, leaving him restless. Even so, he couldn’t complain too much; autumn was just around the corner, bringing the cold he longed for and the continuation of the new semester.

Truth be told, he wasn't looking forward to going back to college. Far from it, actually. While summer wasn't his favorite season, he appreciated the solitude it offered—the freedom of late-night adventures, the revelry of parties, and the blissful absence of anxiety from procrastination. Yet, as much as he valued these fleeting comforts, they paled in comparison to the almost biting chill of fall and the deep anticipation of seeing you again.

The intense heat of sun seemed to mirror the depth of his desire for you. Just as the relentless sun made each day increasingly stifling and uncomfortable, his longing for you burned with equal intensity. The oppressive warmth was almost a reminder of the consuming passion within him, reflecting his growing sense of desperation and need.

Cregan didn't know how long he had longed for you, for he barely noticed when the desire he felt for you turned into something so deep and intense that it seemed to consume his veins with infernal heat, heating his body to levels that even the incessant heat of the sun could not do. summer could explain. He felt almost suffocated even though he was trapped against his will, but without knowing whether he should give in to frustration or despair with the anxiety he felt.

The last three months without you had been difficult, if not unbearable, for him. It was as if you had vanished from the world, and that left him on the brink of despair. Each day that passed without any word from you widened the hole in his chest a little more, and the fact that you ignored all 20 friend requests he sent you on social media only made things worse.

Being near you, no matter how torturous it could be at times, was a confinement he chose willingly. But being away from you? That was a true prison for him, an unrelenting agony that nearly consumed him from within.

One thing was certain: if it hadn’t been for Jacaerys, his best friend, he probably would have done something reckless and gone after you just to make sure you were okay. It was Jacaerys who held him back and allowed him to see your social media through his account, and although he was upset that you wouldn’t let him follow you, there was a strange comfort in knowing that his best friend did. However, this only made things worse. He was becoming fully aware of just how down bad he was for you—and that was, at the very least, humiliating.

It was humiliating—everything Cregan was doing at this point, and he knew it. His friends knew, and everyone around him knew. After all, he had been on celibate for months simply because he couldn’t imagine being with any woman other than you, even though you seemed more inclined to kick him in the balls than anything else.

And now, he was resorting to the same tactic he used months ago: parking in your spot just to provoke you into getting angry with him before class. Sometimes, he honestly felt that his fixation had reached a point of no return.

Taking the last drag from his cigarette, Cregan leaned further into the front seat of his Jeep, turned on the air conditioning slightly, and closed his eyes, waiting for you to arrive and complain so he could finally escape the sun. Fortunately for Cregan, less than five minutes later, he was startled by a light but furious knock on the Jeep's window. He had to hold back a smile as he saw your irritated expression outside.You looked so hot and so damn pretty.

"Hello, dear," he began, placing both hands behind his head as he looked at you with a smirk, trying to mask the rapid beating of his heart. "Is something wrong?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you doing in my car spot?!" You nearly shouted, your cheeks growing redder with anger at his persistence. Cregan, however, didn’t seem at all bothered; if anything, his smile widened with every increase in your voice.

"I thought you’d matured over the summer break," you said through gritted teeth, glancing around at the people who were starting to stare. Despite your frustration, Cregan appeared more amused, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you even further.

"First of all, this parking lot is public," he said with a teasing hum, his smirk growing as he slowly opened the window, clearly enjoying your irritated and impatient expression. "Secondly, did you really think I’d matured over these months?" His voice carried a hint of hidden amusement, though you didn’t seem to notice. You let out a deep sigh, trying to mask your frustration.

If you were being honest, no, you didn’t think he had matured. He had always been a bit much since the day you met him—constantly praising you almost directly or irritating you on purpose just to get a reaction. It didn’t help that he kept sending friend requests, which you declined every time, or that Jace was always one of the first to see your posts after Cregan made it clear you two were together.

The truth was, you didn’t think he’d changed at all. If anything, based on the look he was giving you, he was probably the same or even worse. And you weren't sure how much longer you could tolerate him irritating you like this.

"I literally paid for this spot, Cregan!" you hissed in a hushed whisper, trying not to attract even more attention. But you had to look away when you felt his intense gaze on you—the fact that he was so handsome didn’t help at all. "And besides, you don’t even have classes on this campus, so what’s your excuse for being here?" you demanded, already irritated, as you pressed your hand to your forehead a bit too aggressively.

Cregan’s smile widened as he noticed the frustration in your eyes and how you avoided his gaze. He knew you found him attractive—he had overheard you admitting it to a friend a few months ago, and the memory filled him with smug satisfaction. While he was used to attention from other girls, knowing that you, the one person who truly mattered to him, found him appealing was different. You were the only woman he cared about and the only one he wanted to touch.

You drove him insane. It wasn’t just an obsession anymore; it was a madness that consumed him completely. Every thought and every impulse he had was dominated by you, and the distance you kept between the two of you was unbearable. You were a constant in his mind, a presence that refused to let his sanity remain intact. But either way, he liked that, he loved that.

"I just wanted to say hello, dear," Cregan said after a few seconds, blinking with exaggerated fake innocence, his voice almost a teasing melody as he leaned closer to the car window, trying to get as close to you as possible. "I missed you." He continued to hum playfully, but there was something in the way he said it that made you almost certain there was a hint of truth behind the teasing.

Even though you tried to stay composed, you couldn’t stand how easily he got under your skin. A few words from him were enough to make your heart race, and his effortless charm was maddening. Despite your resistance, you couldn’t deny the strange attraction you felt toward him or how annoyingly handsome he was—even with his scruffy beard. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape his pull. You felt trapped.

"Well, you can say hello from anywhere but my parking spot," you retorted, striving for firmness even though your voice wavered slightly. "So move your Jeep, or I’ll call a tow truck." You took a few steps back, increasing the distance between you, which seemed to disappoint him slightly.

Despite that Cregan’s smile lingered, though now it was tempered with a hint of reluctance. He made no move to move his Jeep; his gaze fixed intently on you as he furrowed his brow, as if evaluating his next move.

"Are you really going to call a tow truck?" he finally asked, his voice carrying the same playful tone. He leaned slightly out of the open window, his heart racing, when he noticed you glancing at his lips for a fleeting moment. He had to work hard to suppress a more genuine smile that threatened to surface.

To you, it was evident that he was deliberately prolonging the situation. The tension between you was palpable, and it was clear that he was savoring the game he was playing with you. Plus the fact his smile widened slightly as he observed you struggling not to look at his lips, made you almost sick. "Come on," he continued, his tone taking on an almost earnest edge as he noticed your hesitation to respond. "Is all this stress really worth it? I’m just trying to say hello." And to stay close to you, he almost said.

"You really haven’t changed, have you?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice as you tightened your grip on your car keys. "I thought you might have matured this semester." Your sharp eyes locked with his playful ones, daring him to defy your words.

Cregan blinked, and his smile grew wider in a flash. "Does that mean you’ve been thinking about me, dear?" He purred, barely containing his amusement as he watched a blush creep up your neck. The idea seemed to delight him, adding an unexpected warmth to his expression.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned by the audacity of his question. He wasn’t completely off the mark; you had, indeed, thought about him. But admitting that to Cregan was unthinkable. You knew he’d never let it go, relishing every moment of your discomfort. It was as if he shed all pretense of maturity around you, or perhaps he felt most himself when he was with you. Either way, one thing was clear: you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of an admission.

Swallowing hard, you gave a dry cough, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks as you tightened your grip on the keys in your hand, determined to resist the lazy, piercing gaze that seemed to follow your every move. "Don’t flatter yourself," you shot back, striving for indifference despite his penetrating stare. "I have better things to think about than you."

Cregan’s smile didn’t falter at your bold, if slightly unsteady, retort. If anything, it widened as he leaned further out of the window, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Better things? Then why do you look so flustered? " he asked, feigning innocence, though his gaze was anything but that. Three months ago, he would have flirted and walked away, but your absence had only drawn him closer, and now, the idea of being with another woman, if it wasn’t you, repulsed him. 

"I’m not flustered," you lied, clenching your jaw, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. He had to fight the urge to glance at your neck, where the blush was deepening. "I’m just tired of these childish games." You rubbed your forehead in frustration, glaring at him with renewed irritation. 

His expression softened slightly at your tone, but the lazy, teasing smirk on his lips remained. "Childish? Maybe. But you’re still giving me attention, aren’t you?" he teased. 

If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was attempting your patience.

You opened your mouth to protest but found yourself at a loss for words. He wasn’t wrong—you were engaging with his provocations, letting him drag you into this ridiculous game and burrow even deeper under your skin. The fact that he was lingering in your parking spot longer than usual unsettled you, but what bothered you more was that part of you was enjoying it. You were furious at yourself for letting his teasing get to you.

There was something about Cregan that made it impossible for you to walk away, even though you knew you should for your own peace of mind.

"You’re impossible," you finally muttered after a few seconds, struggling to find the right words and shaking your head as if to clear it. "Just move your jeep, Cregan. I don’t have time for this," you insisted, loosening your grip on your car keys.

But he still didn’t move, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat—though you didn’t realize his heart was racing just as fast. "You know," he said softly, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. "I’m not just here to annoy you. I actually wanted to see you" He admitted it quietly, as if he didn’t want anyone else in the parking lot to hear it.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily at a loss for words. This was a side of him you weren’t used to—a vulnerability typically masked by layers of sarcasm and provocation. And now, that facade was replaced by softness and even a hint of submission, making you hesitate for just a moment.

But then you remembered the situation you were in and how he always seemed to know exactly how to provoke you in the most infuriating way. It steeled you against the pull he had over you. “Well, now you’ve seen me," you replied, your voice firmer than before, though a blush still lingered on your cheeks. "So either move the car, or I’ll have it moved." You threatened, causing Cregan to sigh dramatically as he finally started up his old Jeep, his gaze softer than it had been before.

Without further excuses, Cregan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, stubbing out his cigarette in the small car ashtray before shifting the Jeep into gear. The engine roared to life as he began to back out of the spot slowly, each movement deliberate, as if he were savoring the final moments of this intense interaction. He kept his eyes on you nearly the entire time, watching for your reaction.

As the Jeep was coming out of the spot, Cregan, with the window already down, leaned out a bit further. "You know," he said, his voice now softer but still playful. "I really appreciate how you keep me on my toes. It makes life a bit more interesting." He teased with his smooth but soft voice, which carried a hint of truth in its tone.

You crossed your arms, attempting to maintain a stern expression, though your irritation waned as you caught sight of his clear eyes. The flush on your cheeks reminded you of how easily he could affect you. "I’m glad I can provide you with some entertainment,” you said sarcastically, your tone less sharp despite the rapid beating of your heart and the previous irritation. "But I have a class to get to."

Cregan nodded, his less playful smile giving way to a more sincere expression. "Alright, alright," he said, his heart racing as he noticed how your t-shirt hugged your waist. "I’ll be on my way. Try not to think too much about me." He offered another small smile, the playful tone now replaced with a softer one.

Raising an eyebrow, you kept your gaze fixed on him, trying to suppress a blush as you noticed how his arm muscles had grown over the summer. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, before turning back to your car, feeling a touch of satisfaction as you sensed his eyes lingering on you, almost burning a hole through your back.

Cregan cast one last glance at you as he pulled away in his Jeep, his heart still pounding. He bit his lip, recalling your expression and the way he caught you looking at his lips. For a moment, he had forgotten the heat of the day, perhaps because being near you made him feel at ease. But as he drove toward his campus away from you, a feeling of unease began to creep in.

When he arrived at campus, he found the main parking lot completely full. Frustrated, he turned to park the Jeep in a more distant spot near the campus convenience store, muttering small curses under his breath as he maneuvered.

As Cregan stepped out of the car, he noticed Jace emerging from the small store with a carton of chocolate milk in hand. Catching Cregan’s gaze, the shorter guy waved and walked over with a smile. "Hey, Cregan." Jace said as he joined him. "Why’d you park so far away?" he asked lazily, taking a long sip of his drink.

Cregan forced a smile, trying to appear carefree as he hid his sweaty hands behind his back. It was clear, though, that he was still preoccupied with the conversation he’d just had with you. "You know," he replied vaguely, shrugging as he walked alongside his friend, attempting to mask his thoughts.

Jacaerys eyed his friend closely. "You went to bother that poor girl again, didn’t you?" He asked, his knowing expression making it obvious he already knew the answer.

That question prompted a wry smile from Cregan. "You always know everything, don’t you?" he remarked, attempting to keep his tone relaxed. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the way your lips had twisted in annoyance as you grumbled at him.

Shaking his head, Jace chuckled softly, briefly coughing when he nearly choked on his chocolate milk. "Well, it’s my job," he said sarcastically. When Cregan didn’t respond, he cleared his throat and continued, "Baela told me your girl is going to the house party on Friday."

Hearing this, Cregan’s interest was immediately piqued, and he looked sharply at his friend. Yet he couldn’t ignore the confusion stirred by Jace’s tone. "And what’s your point?" he asked, his curiosity showing as he pulled another cigarette from his pocket.

"Well," Jace began thoughtfully, though Cregan suspected he already knew the advice he was about to give. "If you really want a chance with her, maybe it’s better to give her some space until the party. That way, you can approach her in a more relaxed way and, you know…" Jace trailed off, letting his words hang. Cregan raised an eyebrow. "Be less… you," Jace finally said. The taller man shrugged, mulling over the advice as it began to make sense.

Jacaerys was almost certain he could see the gears turning in his friend’s head.

He was almost certain that meeting in that environment could help forge a connection between the two of you, and he was willing to take the risk. "I’ll take your advice and see how things go at the party," Cregan said, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he followed his best friend into the campus building.

─────── ─────── ───────

Friday had arrived, and the party was in full swing. The old, two-story house near campus was packed with students eager to unwind after the first week of college. Music boomed, vibrating through the walls, and the scent of cheap beer mixed with sweat and perfume. Laughter and shouts echoed through the crowded hallways, where people were so tightly packed it was a wonder anyone could move.

Cregan stood at the edge of the living room, scanning the crowd. His usual confident demeanor was subdued by a palpable tension, the kind that comes with anticipation. He hadn't seen or spoken to you since his conversation with Jace, and he was starting to regret it.

His mood had worsened over the past few days since he stopped parking in your spot. Even though he was so close to you, well, at the same college, he couldn’t see you, and it was starting to weigh on him on an extreme level. During the summer break, he had a legitimate reason not to see you—after all, you seemed to be avoiding him, or maybe it was just in his head—but now, having made the decision to stay away from you on his own, he was growing frustrated with himself. He felt stupid, to say the least.

Sometimes, he wanted to kick himself for listening to Jace.

Suddenly, he was pulled from his thoughts—thoughts that kept drifting to you, despite his best efforts—by a girl who approached with a sly smile on her lips. She was attractive—the kind of girl who would normally catch Cregan's attention without even trying. But tonight, he was distracted, and her presence only heightened the desire he felt for you and the satisfaction he took in choosing celibacy because of you.

"You’re Cregan, aren’t you?" the girl asked as she got close enough, and he nodded with little interest, trying to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose at her approach as the strong scent of her perfume filled the space between them. It wasn’t unpleasant, but he found himself longing for something lighter, sweeter—like the refreshing aroma he associated with you. "What are you doing just standing here?" she continued, her smile never fading.

Cregan turned his gaze from the girl to the door, shrugging slightly as he tried to maintain a polite demeanor. "I’m just taking a break," he said, his voice flat and distant. He cleared his throat, realizing his tone was more curt than he intended. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t care much; his mind was focused on finding you, and the girl’s presence was a minor distraction he could barely tolerate.

From the corner of his eye, Cregan noticed the girl’s surprise at his lack of enthusiasm, but he couldn’t have cared less. His mind was entirely consumed by thoughts of you, and the growing urgency to find you made every other interaction feel like an unwelcome distraction. The intensity of his desire for you made the presence of any other girl and their attempts at conversation seem utterly insignificant.

"You’re not really in the mood for company, are you?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. Cregan gave her a brief, indifferent glance before nodding. With a resigned sigh, she took a step back, clearly uncertain about what to do next.

"Okay, I understand," she said once more, but he remained focused on the floor, ignoring her. "Look for me if you need company," she added, her voice trailing off as she noticed his disinterest. With a final, frustrated sigh, she turned and walked away, leaving him to continue his search for you, oblivious to her departure.

After a few minutes of waiting, growing increasingly restless, Cregan sighed and decided to search for you himself, diving into the dense crowd of sweaty and inebriated students. The music blared around him, mingling with the chaotic hum of conversations, making it difficult to focus. Despite the overwhelming noise and heat, he moved with determination, pushing through the crowd in pursuit of finding you.

He scanned every face and every group, hoping to catch a glimpse of you amid the chaos. The heat and noise of the party only heightened his anxiety, but he pressed on, driven by the urgent need to find you. He needed to see you, even if it was just for another exchange of barbs or the flirtatious remarks you used to make. He just wanted to be near you, and all his rational thoughts seemed to disappear when it came to you.

Cregan’s search felt endless, each moment blending into the next as he navigated the throng of bodies. His gaze flitted from face to face, his mind consumed by the one person who dominated his thoughts: you.

Then, through a gap in the crowd, he caught sight of you in a small room downstairs. You were laughing with Baela and Rhaena, a cup of beer in hand. Cregan's heart raced at the sight of you, his gaze lingering on the way your clothes accentuated your curves. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, feeling a surge of nervous anticipation.

Without waiting too long, he took a deep breath and moved toward you, once again carefully navigating through the sea of people, his heart racing as he approached. As he got closer, he couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh at your soft yet somehow scandalous laughter, which made him quicken his pace. 

Summoning his courage, he stepped closer, his eyes locked on your face as he fought to keep his gaze steady. He cleared his throat, hoping to get your attention without startling you. "Hi," he said, his voice betraying only a hint of the nerves he felt. You looked up at him, surprised. "How’s it going, dear?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he used the tone that was uniquely his with you.

You blinked slowly, not noticing how the twins giggled and moved away to another part of the room, giving you privacy with Cregan. The truth was, you were surprised. Cregan hadn’t been occupying your parking spot for the past three days, which was unsettling since, for the last seven months—on the days you had classes—he was always there with his Jeep, waiting to exchange sarcastic remarks or even flirt with you.

And although you didn’t want to admit it, his absence made you more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

"Oh, hi, Cregan," you replied, immediately regretting the brevity and dryness of your response when you saw his expression falter slightly. "I haven’t seen you the last few days. Are you okay?" you asked, trying to steady your breath as he moved closer. Despite your efforts to stay composed, he seemed entirely focused on you, his eyes locked onto yours.

He could smell your refreshing scent, and it was already making him a bit dizzy and thirsting for more.

"I am." Cregan replied in a softer voice, stopping in front of you, and you had to lift your head to look into his eyes. "Why do you want to know? Did you miss me?" He hummed lightly, not taking his gaze off your lips, which made you blush visibly.

You blinked at his question, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. You tried to maintain your composure, but the way he looked at you made it difficult. "Maybe," you said, your voice softer than you intended. For a moment, you saw his eyes widen before he quickly regained his composure.

To say he was surprised was an understatement. He was astonished, to say the least. You had always seemed indifferent to his advances and flirtations, so the softness in your voice now was unexpected. Despite his enjoyment of your acidic responses, he couldn't help but feel pleased. For a moment, he was grateful he had followed Jacaerys's advice, realizing that this moment might never have happened otherwise.

Cregan stepped closer, his breath hitching as he watched your expression. The air between you buzzed with a tension that sent his heart racing, and he was almost sure you felt it too when he saw the rise and fall of your chest. Maybe it was how your breaths seemed to sync or how you were both so engrossed in each other that the surrounding noise faded into the background. Either way, he was content, sensing that you were as well.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low as his face hovered just inches from yours."Because I missed you too." He sighed, his voice devoid of its usual playful tone, filled instead with genuine and almost desperate sincerity.

Then, before he could say anything else, you rose onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his in a way so possessive and sudden that his eyes widened in surprise, momentarily stunned by what was happening. But it didn’t take long for him to close his eyes and wrap a strong arm around your waist, returning the kiss with a desperation that made you briefly question if this was the same Cregan who used to tease you every morning.

The kiss was intense, and he let you take the lead, too lost in your lips to even think about taking control of the kiss. He nearly groaned when your tongue met his, massaging it in a rough yet gentle way. He was almost drunk, so lost in the kiss that when your hips brushed lightly against him, he pulled back, his gaze roaming over your hody, filled with desire.

"Please, let’s get out of here," he murmured, his voice almost desperate, arms still wrapped firmly around your waist as he gazed at you with intense, pleading eyes. "Please," he repeated, the word laced with urgency. Though his sudden vulnerability caught you off guard, you gave a slight nod, and without wasting another moment, he gently took your arm, eager to continue what had just begun.

─────── ─────── ───────

You weren’t sure exactly what made you pull him close or kiss him with such intensity and need. Maybe it was the fear of him leaving you and the uncertainty of how you would cope without him after becoming so accustomed to his presence. Perhaps it was the way he embodied chaos, or maybe it was the fact that he looked so captivating under the soft party lights, just a short distance from his place. Whatever the reason, you found yourself lost in the moment, and you didn’t regret your decision.

You didn’t regret letting go of your pride, because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to kiss him with such intensity the moment you reached his room. Nor would you have been able to ride his cock with such slow, deliberate movements that it brought tears to his eyes as he begged and cried for more. 

It was an exhilarating thrill to have a man of his size pleading for your body and pleasure, and you embraced every moment. Each desperate cry he made and every whispered plea and praise as he lavished kisses and worshipped you heightened your satisfaction and inflated your ego.

You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed his devoted attention, especially as he eagerly explored every inch of you between your legs with the same tongue he used to provoke you.

Cregan's tongue worked your pussy with expert skill; his desperation was so intense that it was as if he were drunk on your taste. Each frantic suck on your clit had you murmuring incoherent words as you pressed your hips closer to his face. And grinned, moaning with each movement, holding your legs open firmly to keep devouring you.

"Cregan!" you tried to say between breaths, but he seemed to be lost between your legs, too focused on pleasing you. He just continued his relentless movements, his moans muffled against you as he rubbed his hips against his sheets, desperately seeking his own release while he devoured you.

"You have to stay still," he said against your pussy, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "Please?" he begged, and you nodded, glancing down to see his desperate eyes, glistening with tears at the corners.

You couldn't resist saying yes to him when he looked at you with those expectant eyes and spoke to you in a voice so soft and different from what you were used to, and you almost broke when he returned to licking your clit in a desperate and subtle way, almost as if he were desperate for more.

What you didn't know was how truly desperate Cregan was. This was the most intense thing he'd done in months, and his long period of celibacy only made him savor every moment more. He was so immersed in the pleasure of the moment that he felt if he were to die right there between your legs, he'd die utterly satisfied. And damn, he was on the brink of bliss, completely overwhelmed by you. Just you.

Your moans grew louder as Cregan continued to explore every inch of your clit. His movements became increasingly frantic and desperate, and as your pleasure mounted, you felt your body on the brink of climax. The pressure built up, making you shiver.

The way he licked and sucked at you with such urgency was overwhelming. Each touch of his tongue provided an intense stimulus that made you writhe. Despite your escalating pleasure, Cregan seemed even more satisfied. Your moans grew louder as Cregan continued to explore every inch of your clit. His movements became increasingly frantic and desperate, and as your pleasure mounted, you felt your body on the brink of climax. The pressure built up, making you shiver.

The way he licked and sucked at you with such urgency was overwhelming. Each touch of his tongue provided an intense stimulus that made you writhe. Despite your escalating pleasure, he seemed even more satisfied. His hips ground against the sheets, his restless movements intensifying the pleasure and causing him to moan against you.

As the tension reached its peak, waves of intense pleasure overwhelmed you, your body writhing and trembling as you tried to hold on just a little longer, savoring the almost pathetic pleas of Cregan. But it was impossible to delay your orgasm, which hit you with a force that made your legs wrap around his head.

Realizing that you had climaxed, Cregan lost control, letting out a moan as he licked up your release. His hips ground even harder against the sheets, desperately seeking his own pleasure. His moans grew louder and more intense, making you smile through your heavy breaths. Soon, he too reached his peak, his body trembling as he clutched at your waist.

Still holding your waist, Cregan managed to rise with effort, kicking the sheet aside and grabbing another to cover both of you. He lay down beside you and couldn’t resist planting one last soft kiss on your lips when he saw how beautiful you looked. Pulling you closer to his chest, he gently stroked your hair and placed tender kisses on your forehead, making you smile with contentment at this new side of him you had discovered.

After a few minutes, as the mood softened, he turned to you with a satisfied, playful grin, the same grin you were familiar with. "It’s time for you to accept my friend request," he said with a hint of sarcasm, tucking a few stray strands of your hair behind your ear.

You looked at him with a tired, lazy smile, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Shut up," you replied cheekily. He laughed one last time, clearly pleased with your response.

You might not be the sweetest person around, but it’s you who he wants.

2024 © do not repost or translate my work anywhere else.

— likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

cregan tag list (open): @jacaerysgf @hobis-hope95 @velaryonbastard @throughgoeshamilton @housetargaryenloyalist

i deleted a really big part of this smut because it was 4 a.m., and I was kind of ‘😵‍💫😵‍💫’. i really disliked this smut and tried to save as much as i could.

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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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.

Scraped knees and warm baths

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lord Stark! She’s been found!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Snowball fights and kisses

{Cregan and you take a break from Politics}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Cold

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

Hope you enjoy lovelies! 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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I just had a funny thought about cregan stark and his clumsy reader (y/n: i'm not clumsy, i slipped on ice only once! one (1) singular time!!😠😂) where its her birthday and the lords of winterfell give her gifts but then one of those gifts is skating boots! She's smiling with delight and excitement while Cregan looks at it like its a thousand hazards and she'll hurt herself with it. 😂😍

Oh my! Could you imagine how his face would literally drop with dread? like he would just be smiling at you with so much love in his eyes at the happiness that surrounds you as he watches you open the presents, and thank the lords and ladies of the north.

Then you get to that present with the Skating boots and his smile literally falls so fast, and you glance over at him with a shy smile because you know exactly what he's thinking.

Later on, Cregan makes a comment about how much trouble you’re going to give him because “You’re so clumsy” and you scoff at his comment.

“I’m not clumsy! I slipped on ice once, only once!” You try to defend yourself, but Cregan only laughs.

Honestly, I think he would try to hide them. But eventually, he’ll give in and take you out to skate.

A cold heart

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

Hope you enjoy as always lovelies! 💕

CW// reader is pregnant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Forever in my heart

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

I love him sm!! Hope you enjoy! 🤭💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Unwavering desire

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

Kinda nervous but I hope you enjoy lovelies!! 💕

!18!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Cregan Stark x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Cregan Stark x reader

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

CW// descriptions of blood/ reader is giving birth

Hope you enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Cregan Stark x Velaryon!Reader

{Cregan takes care of you after a long day}

Of course my love! Hope you enjoy 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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-Cregan Stark x Reader

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

I’m so back… Enjoy my lovelies! 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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-Cregan Stark x reader

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

Enjoy my lovelies💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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I need him!

helloo could i request a cregan stark x reader? Where the reader has the ability to see the future or possible outcomes? I hope it isnt to bad of a idea😅 Thank you so much 🫶🏻

-Cregan Stark x Dreamer!Reader

{Your dreams are often plagued by nightmares of events that are yet to unfold, Cregan is always there to hold you}

Love this! Thank you for requesting, enjoy lovelies💕

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It was not lost on Cregan Stark that Rhaenyra’s daughter was… unique to say the least. It was known way before your engagement was planned, a quiet ceremony hidden away in the woods near Winterfell, it seems love still prevails even through war.

Although this never deterred Cregan, he was utterly head over heels for you yet confused at the same time whenever you would whisper cryptic insanities into the cold night air with wide fearful eyes full of knowledge about events that loom over the horizon like dark storm clouds.

He would spend hours brushing your white hair, speaking gentle, loving words against your shoulder when your mind seemed to have wandered too far from your grasp.

He was just as lost as you were when it came to figuring out what exactly it all meant and the Maesters were no help, especially on nights like this when you were awoken by such horrific sights that infest your mind.

“Aliments of the mind are far more trickier than those of the body, my Lord.” Maester Owryn says, still adamant about just giving you tea to help you sleep.

His words only serve to annoy an already exhausted Cregan, he can’t count how many times he has been told the same thing with a look of pity. It killed him that he could not provide you with more comfort, he cannot help but feel as if he has failed you.

“Do you see her, do you?— it’ll take more than damn tea to calm her from this.” Cregan scolds, looking down at the Maester with dark narrowed eyes. He glances back over to where you are curled up on a chair, your fingers buried within your messy locks, clutching harshly as you mutter the same words over and over again.

The Maester shuffles, fiddling with the small piece of parchment, his brows pulled together in confusion. “Might I suggest milk of the poppy?” He whispers, clearly unnerved by the glare that Cregan was scrutinising him under.

“No, bring her the tea.” The Lord settles, his tone rough with irritation. He did not want to subject you to the horrible drowsiness that the sweet milk brings, numbing your mind was not the answer.

With the Maester gone Cregan tries once more to approach you, drawing closer to you like he would with a wounded animal, he wraps his fingers around your wrists in an attempt to stop you from pulling at your hair, his touch is gentle despite the callouses on his palms.

“Not so hard my love… you’ll hurt yourself.” He whispers, eyes searching your face desperately for any signs of the woman you were before you woke up from this nightmare.

Although he finds nothing of the sort, you are all glossy-eyed and chapped lips, blankly staring at the floor like you were miles away.

A moment of silence settles around the room, the sound of your heavy breathing and the soft crackle of firewood is the only thing breaking through it. It takes a few moments and soft words of encouragement before you allow him to lower your hands down to your lap, your fingers still clutched tightly into fists.

“Dragon breath… burning flesh.” You whisper fearfully, a gasp escaping past your red-bitten lips. The same words you’ve been muttering all night, it unsettles him, calling to something deep within him.

Cregan hums, brushing your messy hair behind your ears. “I know my love.” He sighs, grazing the rough pads of his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Come back to me y/n, come on…” he whispers into the backs of your hands, closing his eyes as you continue to whisper the words madly.

The mumblings stop, your breathing coming back down into a steady rhythm as you begin to unclench your fists slowly. Relief hits Cregan like a gust of wind, his expression softening when your gaze meets with his own.

“… burning… bedevilled crown.” You try to explain to him all too quickly, stuttering over your words in a panic-stricken manner. Your hands trembling against his own rough ones.

“Slowly now, breathe for me first, my love.” He whispers, reaching over to cup your jaw to keep you grounded on the here and now, his thumb caressing your cheek.

Your senses soon come back to you making you aware of your surroundings, the softness of your nightgown and the warmth of your husband’s hand against the side of your face.

The Maester walks in with a small cup of soothing tea, placing the ceramic down on the dark oak table before taking his leave with a curt nod. The herbal aroma brings you into the present moment, keeping your mind occupied.

You watch with tired eyes as he gives you the cup, minding the way your hands still shake ever so slightly. He guides you to take small sips, smiling gently in encouragement.

“There were two, but I could not see— the smoke and flames— screams.” The words are a struggle to get out and it pains him to see you like this, the pain and fear in your eyes.

Your words are too vague to try and make any sense of them, after all, it was a war between Targaryens, and the involvement of dragons and their formidable flames was inevitable.

“I want to stop it… to prevent the pain but I do not know how.” You whisper, voice strained with unshed tears.

“That may be beyond you. I won’t have you shouldering blame for anything that transpires.” He says, his tone full of love despite the roughness of it.

You nod softly, looking down at him from where he is kneeling in front of you. The soft glow of the fireplace flickers against his features, highlighting the exhaustion that hangs below his eyes.

“You can go back to sleep…” you suggest softly, clearly feeling too shaken up to go back to bed.

At your words he immediately shakes his head, taking your hands to pepper gentle kisses along your knuckles, his beard tickling your soft skin. “Not until you’re okay…”

You know there is no point in arguing the point, he is as stubborn as a mule. Instead, you shuffle over, giving him room to sit down next to you. The warmth between you, as he pulls you onto his lap, calms the restlessness that has built up within your chest, allowing you a moment of respite.

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

-Cregan Stark x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Hello! I enjoyed the Cregan fanfic. May i ask if it's okay with you if i have another request?😅 (if it's not too much to ask huhu) I kept thinking how Cregan would be like if he had a daughter

-Cregan Stark x Reader

{A small sweet moment with your daughter and Husband}

I hope this is okay, its a super small blurb. Thank you for the request!! Enjoy my lovelies💕

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If anyone dared to ask if Lord Stark had a favourite amongst his four children he would tell them “No.” in a firm, cold manner. A look so deadly it would send a violent shiver down any man’s spine.

However, between his four children- three boys and one girl- it was his daughter who would get away with anything and everything.

They say that it was little Mariah who melted away all of Cregan’s ice walls after he arrived back in the North. Holding her in his arms when she was just a babe brought back his humanity, which he thought was long gone since the war, warming his heart back to life with love.

The same little girl, now of age four, who is adamant about sitting with Cregan as he attends meetings with other Northern Lords, making her voice loudly known. She was headstrong and Cregan had no one to blame but himself.

He had not long returned from one of these meetings, bidding goodbyes to the Lords who looked less than pleased about the comments his daughter was making. But they did well to hide their displeased expression behind polite smiles, everyone knew how to stay out of the Stark family business.

“How did it go?” You wonder, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as he walks through the shared bedchambers with Mariah perched on his hip.

You could tell from the tired looks in both of their dark eyes that the meeting was long… perhaps even boring.

“I got to sit on the big chair.” Mariah giggles, giving you a toothy smile as Cregan places her on your lap before taking off his furs.

You hum in surprise at her words as she rambles on about how she is now “Lady Stark” and how her father could ‘rest’ instead of going to such meetings. Although you could tell- as she spoke through a yawn- that perhaps it was her that should rest.

The notion of such an idea makes Cregan chuckle, his eyes creasing with amusement. “I’ve got plenty of time yet, Lady Stark.” He says, looking between the pair of you with a gentle smile. One full of adoration.

Your daughter continues to defend her case, insisting that she is ‘smart’ and that it would be 'practice for the future'. She would certainly be trouble in the future, you thought to yourself, looking down at her with a soft smile.

"I can go alone, Father," she murmurs sleepily, making the pair of you laugh. There is no doubt in your mind that she would boss all those Lords around, after all, she has practically grown up in those meetings with her father.

“She’s trying to send you into early retirement my dear.” You smile, looking up at your husband who busies himself with taking off his worn leathers, leaving him in a loose-fitted tunic.

He bends down slightly, his big hand rubbing your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. “She’s succeeding.” He whispers in response before walking over to the window, closing the thick tapestry to keep the warmth in and the cold out.

Mariah rests against you, letting out another yawn as your fingers brush through her hair, she was getting sleepy. However, as soon as Cregan sits down beside you she’s immediately sitting up, holding her arms out for her father expectantly.

“Come here flower.” He whispers, sitting her down on his lap as his fingers begin to braid her hair gently, getting the loose curls out of her eyes.

Your heart swells with love at the sight, the way she desperately tries to keep awake whilst blabbering on about her day to you, her words mushing together as the exhaustion begins to take over.

“Lord Ryswell wasn’t happy about her input on the docks.” Cregan smirks, the fireplace bathes him in a supple light making him glow in contentment that makes you feel a giddiness in your chest.

“I can imagine, he’s always been far too proud.” You whisper, not wanting to wake her up.

He looks down at Mariah, fast asleep curled against his chest, her cheek squashed against the fabric of his tunic. “He’ll just have to deal with it.” He smirks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring you close to him, his lips pressing against your hairline as he enjoys the peace while he can.

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