laurathebabex

[laurathebabex]

what was your old username?

My username has always been the one I’ve got now😊

[laurathebabex]

I sneezed and there were loads of Tom pics RIGHT THERE

[laurathebabex]

Oh thisss is just so adorable! I’ve always envisioned Cregan as a girl dad, now this has just completely fed into my theories🥹🥹

── GIRL DAD!CREGAN STARK HCS

pairing: cregan stark x wife!reader

summary: just some thoughts about cregan with a baby girl because this man is making my ovaries explode

warnings: the tiniest mention of childbirth, nothing else really

notes: this is very self-indulgent oops. i might make one of cregan as a dad in general. i wrote this in my hospital bed and i'm too lazy to spellcheck. here is the ask that inspired this

first and foremost, cregan always makes sure to attend your children's births when possible. though he is a very traditional man, this is one thing he'll stand firm on: being by his wife's side in the birthing chambers.

that being said, he would like to be one of the first to hold the babe. he'll let the maester or midwife catch it and once the child is confirmed to be well (aka once it starts crying) he'll be quick to take the child into his own arms and pass him off to you for skin-to-skin time. he could've witnessed every single one of his children's births, but it never ceases to amaze and terrifying him. he cries the first time holding every one of your babes, i don't make the rules.

i imagine him as having a few boys, maybe two or three, before your daughter is born. so, when cregan hears the maester's declaration of "it's a girl, lord stark" his heart stops for a brief moment. he knows how to deal with boys. they're easier to raise than girls, though his sons can be a bit rowdy at times. and his little girl looks so tiny in his big hands. it does take a bit of reassurance from you that he won't just break her. she is delicate, but no more than her brothers when they were newborns.

back to how tiny she is. cregan's daughter is a lot smaller than his sons were. healthy, of course, but almost small enough to fit entirely in the palm of his hand at a few days old. he is sure he has never felt more protective. this little life is entirely dependent on her mother and father, and cregan already knows that he'd fight heaven and hell, a hoard of dragons, an army of men, single-handedly if it meant keeping his daughter safe. he's always been protective of his family, but this new addition only triples that wolfish instinct.

he loves to simply hold his daughter. cregan could spend hours looking at his babe, studying her downy locks and the roundness of her cheeks. the way her little eyelashes kiss her cheeks when she sleeps. the shape of her lips. the color of her eyes. "she looks just like you, my lady," he's probably said the same thing for all of your older children, but cregan truly means it this time. "lovely."

he had never been so adamant about holding one of his kids before. cregan loved the sight of you, all motherly and soft and gentle with them, but he will hold his daughter as much as possible. good luck getting her back. when she isn't feeding, sleeping in her cradle, or needing her mother specifically, you bet she's right there in his arms. he can sit for hours as he works in his solar, answering letters and working on the endless amount of paperwork that comes with being the warden of the north. he'll have the babe tucked into the crook of his arm as he writes, her soft snores a gentle ambience. cregan isn't afraid to show off fatherhood either. whenever his sons ask, he'll sit one in his lap during council meetings so they can play at being the future head of the house. but before his girl is old enough to even speak, he'll hold her during meetings or conversations with his vassal houses. she'll be nestled right in his arms, peacefully asleep or watching her daddy with bright eyes as he talks. (he wouldn't admit it but he does like to show his children off) it's funny to see their stoic lord stark, as big and intimidating as he is, holding a tiny bundle in his arms as she babbles or sleeps.

when she starts teething he'll literally just let her gnaw on him. his hands, his fingers, his face. whatever.

and when she says her first word, good lord. your sons' first words had been "mama." cregan would never say so aloud, but he was a teensy little bit jealous. but his daughter's first word is "papa." just how he cried when he first held her, he'll probably cry then, too. cregan is known as being cold and stoic, his nature formed from the responsibilities that were thrust onto him when he was so young, but his family always gets to see his softer side. his children are what keep his heart beating in his chest. and he may say that he doesn't pick favorites, but his little girl always has a special place in his heart.

taglist: @snow-blower @oldtowrs @konigslittleliebling @nlnny @joygrey

comment to be added or removed!

[laurathebabex]

🍁Social time🍁

Twt: @LAURASYARD

Discord: @laurasgoldenspoon

[laurathebabex]

It's my 2 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[laurathebabex]

What’s wild to me is that if Tom was never cast as Cregan then I’d A) still be team green and b) probably have a completely different layout of my profile🥲🥲

[laurathebabex]

Lord lift me UP🤸🏼🤸🏼

[laurathebabex]

So uhm.. everyone wanted Cregan p!links.. SO HERE YALL ARE HEHEHE!!

MASTERLIST

CREGAN STARK + SOMEJACAERYS VELARYON TWITTER P!LINKS:

🛻•Trucker!Cregan:

Type of shit you send Cregan when he's on the road

Cregan when he comes back home after a long drive

You asked him to 'kidnap' you part two

He takes you whenever, wherever

You wanted to enjoy nature, he wanted to enjoy you

How he gets you to say yes to sex

He saw this on pornhub and decided he wanted to try

When the kids aren't home

Long story short of how you get pregnant

While the kids are in bed

Yk how I said he makes reader ride him even when she's super pregnant?..

📚•Nerd!Cregan:

Sucking off Cregan while he plays his games

Teasing him

He convinced you to dress up, you convinced him to cum

He finally lets you touch him

Touching Cregan in public just might be your favourite thing in the world

He fucks you in his room part two

He finally gets confidence part two

Hold fuck - his thought process

Probably his favourite thing in the world

He's so soft I can't 😭🩷

He finally learnt how to munch part two

��•Mechanic!Cregan:

He might be sweet, but he loves a good fuck

Cregan fucking you at work

Desperate

He loves to focus on you part two

He fucks you in your ruined Porsche part two

Fucking Aegon's sister

He loves waking up to you ontop

100% sends this to you when he's supposed to be stepping in for Harwin at work

He normally treats you like a princess but you've been bratty

He loves fucking you in his car part two part three part four part five part six

Quickly, before he has to go to work

🍻•Frat!Cregan:

Cregan changes positions 24/7

You bounce on his cock while Alysanne sits on his face

Getting fucked by Cregan and Jacaerys while Baela and Rhaena suck Lucerys off

He loves making his innocent tutor do something dirty

How you look after a party at Cregan's frat

You're just a thing to fuck to Cregan

Cregan ruins you while Jace watches

He manages to convince his best friends little sister to be naughty

You're dedicated to your studies but Cregan can't bear not getting sucked off every five bloody minutes

Riding his thigh when he's supposed to be studying for his exam, he's using you as an excuse for when he fails it part two-he fails his exam

Tell me frat boy!Cregan wouldn't do this to innocent!reader

He's a man of many positions

He loves sharing you with Jace

he LOVES sharing the same hole with Jacaerys

💪•Himbo!Cregan:

Cregan can't resist, even when you're supposed to be in control

Valentine’s Day surprise

Big, beefy and breaking your back

He's a rough fuck but.. worth it

He shows you just how strong he is

This is just so himbo!Cregan omg

This is also so himbo!Cregan coded 😭

He loves to pleasure you but you just couldn't stop wriggling so this is how he holds you

He loves video games but he also loves your cunt, gah! Which one to choose?! How about both 🤭 part two

You wanted to try being in control

🐺•HOTD!Cregan:

He loves you bouncing on him when he's tired

Fucking you on the sofa

Sleepy sex go brrr

Uh-.. yeah.. Cregan loves doggy

Holding you down

He got a littleee too excited about fucking Jace's daughter

REAL MEN EAT PUSSY

Treating you like a QUEEN

Fucking Alysanne's sister at his own wedding

Oh he 100% bear hugs you while he fucks

🐉•Jacaerys extras!:

Jacaerys would 100% send you this

Jacaerys has to do this when he fucks his pretty little twin

He doesn't have the heart to sully his aunt

He loves being as close as he possibly can be

He can't quite seem to get enough

Holding down his girlfriends!bsf while he fucks her

His bully teases him

Fucking Luke's girlfriend

hope y'all enjoy my lovelies!!

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553 @visenyablackwood

[laurathebabex]

The look of love 🧡

[laurathebabex]

Just one child sir🥺🤝🏻

[laurathebabex]

The fact that they went from this

To this

In the span of a single conversation makes me lose my fucking mind

[laurathebabex]

SLAY MONEEYYYYYY✨

Ps I’m back🥹

[laurathebabex]

Like Northerners | Cregan Stark | House of the Dragon

Cregan Stark x Southern Noble Reader

Warnings/ Tags: SMUT[NSFW}, smut, minors DNI, established relationship, p in v, creampie, cum play, a little rough, Cunnilingus, fingering, consensual!, hes a big man, orgasm denial, one orgasm after another.

You're the wife of Lord Cregan Stark and you share an intimate moment together

Words: 5,644

A/N: This is feral and fithy and I have nothing to say for myself.

*Not my gif and I don’t have anyone to read my fics before I post them so please excuse mistakes.

As laughter and music swirled around you, the candlelight danced like flickering fireflies, casting shadows across the bustling hall. The room hummed with energy, filled with the chatter and movement of people, yet you couldn't recall a time when you'd felt more alone. Your husband thrived in this setting, effortlessly navigating the festivities with the ease of one accustomed to grand gatherings since childhood.

You watched as he mingled with the Northern men who had pledged their loyalty, their voices rising in camaraderie as they spoke of allegiances and battles. Each interaction was smooth and natural, his laughter a deep, comforting sound that mingled with the clinking of goblets. His face crinkled into a warm smile as he clapped a man on the back, their goblets clashing together in a celebratory toast.

In that moment, he unexpectedly turned his gaze to you, his grey eyes finding yours across the room. The connection, filled with unspoken affection and recognition, caught you off guard. Flustered, you let your eyes drop back to your plate, your heart fluttering with a mix of longing and shyness under the weight of his attention.

Cregan rounded the head table where you were seated, moving with an easy grace that belied his formidable presence. As he approached, he paused just behind you, leaning in so that his mouth was close to your ear.

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. The air was thick with the hum of conversation and music, but Cregan’s closeness seemed to draw you into a world of your own. His subtle scent—a mix of leather and fresh pine—wrapped around you like a familiar cloak. A moment passed, charged with anticipation.

Suddenly, a soft touch on your shoulder broke through your reverie. You turned to find Cregan leaning closer, his storm - grey eyes glinting with mischief. "Enjoying the festivities, my love?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "Have you eaten your fill?"

"It’s quite the gathering. The preparations are… grand. And no, my lord." you replied, nudging the chicken leg and roasted potatoes on your plate with your fork. "I don't have much of an appetite."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Grand? Or tedious?" His gaze was playful, yet there was an undercurrent of seriousness in it.

You smiled softly, glancing at the bustling crowd. "A bit of both, perhaps. But the company makes it bearable. It's just so different from what I'm used to."

As if on cue, there was the sound of smashing tableware and the crowd parted in one of the corners, two men at the centre appearing to be making at attempt at a fight. The evening had been long and the two men clearly having indulged a little more than they should have, each throwing slow unbalanced punches that the other could easily sidestep even in their drunken state.

Cregan let out a deep sigh, and he leaned closer. "I was hoping you’d find a moment to escape with me," he said, his breath brushing against your ear, sending tingles down your spine. "There’s a terrace outside, away from all this. Just a few minutes, I promise."

Your heart raced at his suggestion, excitement, and nervousness coiling within you. You nodded, unable to speak for fear of betraying the fluttering in your stomach. Cregan reached for your hand, his grip warm and reassuring as he guided you through the throng of guests.

As you stepped outside onto the terrace, the cool night air enveloped you both. The stars shimmered overhead, twinkling like diamonds scattered across the deep blue sky. Cregan released your hand, and you both leaned against the ornate stone railing, looking out over the vast expanse of Winterfell. The night was cold, your breath leaving your lungs in great white clouds that were pulled out and away from you by the chill wind. On your first night, Cregan had presented you with a beautiful black cloak made from the fur of a dire-wolf he had hunted in the weeks before your wedding. It did a wonderful job at protecting you from the frigid temperature.

“This is more peaceful,” you remarked, taking a deep breath of the crisp air, feeling liberated from the clamour inside.

He turned to you, the moonlight accentuating the strong lines of his face. “Just us here, away from the talk of war and duty.” There was a heaviness to his words, a reminder of the trials that lay ahead. “I needed a moment with you, away from the eyes of the Northern lords.”

"Well, husband," you started, and you could see the flicker of happiness in his eye as you spoke the word. "You are more than welcome to use me as a means of escape whenever you like.”

A flicker of appreciation flashed in his eyes, and he stepped closer, the distance between you diminishing. His gaze softened as he studied your face, the laughter, and merriment of the hall dissolving into the background. “You always know how to ground me,” he said softly. “In these uncertain times, you are my anchor.”

"I think there is at least another hour before I can depart from this celebration without suspicion." he started, looking from you out over the castle.

"Why, would you want to leave the festivities early?" you asked.

His lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes sparkling with an intoxicating blend of affection and raw desire. The low rumble of his voice sent a pleasant shiver coursing down your spine. "Well, my love," he continued, his breath still warms against your neck. "I have a new wife, who, I believe, is in need of attention." A playful glint shone from his stormy grey eyes. "We have tried your soft southern way," he continued, leaning in, his breath warm against your skin. "Tonight we fuck hard,” he paused, your breath catching in your throat as he met your eye. "Like Northerners."

His voice was deep and gravelly, rich with the promise of pleasure. The light of the party in the great hall spilled from the doorway behind you both. He stepped forwards and cupped your face in his large hand and kissed you. The kiss was filled with promises of the night ahead. His free hand moving to grip your waist, it was firm and possessive, as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go.

Then he stepped away from you, moving back through the doorway into the throng of people enjoying the evening. Your breath caught in your throat, and a rush of warmth flooded your cheeks as you glanced around the empty balcony, terrified for a moment that someone might have overheard his words. Anxiety swirled within you, but there wasn’t anyone out here with you; the lively music spilled from the doorway as you attempted to steel yourself to reenter the celebrations. Yet, the heat in your face lingered, a vivid reminder of the raw emotion he’d stirred in you. The vibrant laughter and clinking of glasses felt distant, as if you were trapped in a world where only his words resonated. You pushed forwards back into the crowd, your eyes searching for him.

As he moved, the shadows in the room seemed to cling to him, accentuating the sharp lines of his features. The orange - hued light made his storm grey eyes appear darker, betraying the unbridled desire that lurked behind them as he glanced over at you. A shiver ran down your spine, not just from the sudden absence of his hands on your body but from the electric anticipation that now filled the space between you.

As the feast continued, the laughter and lively chatter around you seemed to ebb, leaving you cocooned in your thoughts. The golden glow of the torches flickered like fireflies, casting playful shadows on the ornate tapestries that lined the walls. You returned to your seat and absentmindedly picked at your plate, the food forgotten as the thrill of Cregan’s words danced in your mind.

The hour had dragged on, so much so that you began to think it was the longest sixty minutes of your entire life. But finally Cregan returned to your table, excusing himself from conversation with a couple of Lords that stepped into his way on his path to you. He leaned over the back of your chair, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Shall we?" he asked, looking at you then back to the crowd.

You nodded quickly standing and accepting the arm he offered you. One of the Lords, likely drunk, didn’t accept that Cregan was no longer in the mood for conversation and blocked the two of you before you had managed to make it to the exit.

"My Lord," he slurred, standing unsteady on his feet. "I think we really must talk about this war with the inbred white haired foreigners." he mumbled, gesturing with his goblet so wildly that some slopped out onto the floor at your feet. He looked down at the puddle on the floor and then into his cup as though he were perplexed as to how it had fallen out.

"My Lord," Cregan replied in a tone that almost hid his irritation at the man. "My wife and I are to retire to our chambers for the night, and I believe it to be in your best interest to do the same. Lest someone other than myself hear the treasonous words you so confidently let leave your lips."

The lord's face contorted with fear, and despite his inebriated state making his actions difficult to control, the respect and fear he held for the Warden of the North shot through his haze, sobering him just enough to regain his composure.

""Yes, yes," he replied meekly, pretending someone in the crowd was calling him over. He gave you and Cregan a curt nod before slipping away.

Cregan glanced at you, a soft warmth in his stormy eyes, before placing his free hand gently over your arm that was entwined with his. With a subtle nod to the guards, he signalled them to open the doors. As they swung open, you both stepped out from the crowded room, moving towards the quiet comfort and privacy of your chambers, leaving behind the clamour and revelry of the feast. The anticipation of solitude and the closeness of his touch made your heart beat a little faster as you walked side by side.

* 

As you both reached the quiet solitude of your chambers, the door closed softly behind you, shutting out the distant echoes of the night's celebrations. The room was dimly lit by a fire flickering in the hearth, the flames cast lively, warm shadows across the ancient stone walls, it made the space feel cosy, the stress of the day melting off you. Cregan guided you to a chair covered with furs near the fire, the heat a striking contrast to the persistent chill that lingered in Winterfell’s expansive halls.

He knelt beside you, his eyes roaming your face with affectionate tenderness. "I’ve been wanting to steal you away all evening," he murmured, his voice tinged with relief now that you were finally alone.

You smiled, reaching out to entwine your fingers with his. "I’m glad you finally managed it."

Cregan chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "The whole night my thoughts have only been of you. "

He stood up, drawing you into his arms. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, grounding you amidst the uncertainties beyond these walls. "For now, let's forget everything else," he said softly.

Cregan's fingers traced slow circles on your hand, his gaze soft and focused solely on you. You could sense the shift in the atmosphere, the intimacy between you both becoming more palpable.

"What do you think, wife?" he murmured, his voice a warm caress that matched the heat in his gaze as it returned to yours. "Do you think we should retire to bed for the night?"

You smiled and stood, allowing him to draw you close, pulling you against his solid frame. His arms wrapped around you securely, and he gazed down at you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

"I assume sleeping is not what you have in mind?" you teased, your eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"No," he whispered against your hair, his breath warm and inviting, "that is not what I have in mind at all."

You tilted your head slightly, playful curiosity painted across your features. "You mentioned the northern way. Would you enlighten me on what that means?"

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. "In the south," he explained, his voice deepening with affection, "it seems to be the duty of the wife to satisfy the husband. Here in the North, it is the duty and responsibility of a husband to ensure his wife is well taken care of."

"Taken care of?" you asked.

With a gentle chuckle, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Let me show you," he murmured, his voice a soothing promise. His fingers wove into your hair, guiding your gaze back to his as he captured your lips in a kiss, before pulling away.

Slowly, he took your hand, leading you toward the bed, each step a silent vow of what was to come. The room was a sanctuary, the flickering fire painting playful shadows across the stone walls. As he drew you near the bed, his touch was both gentle and firm, conveying strength and tenderness in equal measure.

His hands lingered on your waist, tracing the curve of your back with reverence. He paused for a moment, his stormy grey eyes locking with yours, silently asking for permission, for trust. You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips, and together you sank onto the bed, your back welcomed by the soft furs as he moved over you.

Cregan leaned in, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter. Your breath caught in your throat, anticipation swirling within you as he moved closer.

His hand reached up, gently cupping your cheek as he tilted your face towards his. The kiss that followed was unhurried, achingly slow exploration of lips and breath, each movement filled with an emotional depth that seemed to transcend mere physicality.

His lips were warm and soft against yours, the slight roughness of his stubble creating a delicious friction against your skin. A low, breathy sound escaped from the back of your throat as you leaned into him, your hands finding his shoulders, holding on to him as if to anchor yourself amidst the swirling current of emotions.

With the kiss deepening, Cregan's hands began to explore, tracing a line from the curve of your waist to your lower back, pulling you closer. The sensation of his touch sent a shiver racing across your skin, heightening every sense.

Breaking the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, he smiled against your lips, a mixture of warmth and desire in his eyes. Gently, he began to slide the fabric of your dress from your shoulders, the soft material whispering down your arms as it slowly fell away.

His fingers were sure and tender as they traced the newly exposed skin, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. The cool air was a stark contrast to his touch, enhancing the sensation and causing the hairs on your skin to stand on end.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, his voice a husky murmur that made your heart race. His large hands spanned your waist, drawing you closer still, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space between you. "Out there I am a Lord and you are a Lady. In here, you are my wife, and I am your husband, do you understand me?"

Your breath hitched, words stuck somewhere between thought and voice. You nodded, a small, affirmative gesture that spoke louder than any words could. A soft laugh bubbled from his chest, rich and warm.

"There won't be an inch of you left untouched tonight, not a part of you that doesnt know my touch" he murmured, his voice a soft promise carried by the crackling of hearth flames. His fingertips continued their exploration, memorising every curve and line of your body like a map he intended to know by heart.

His hands traveled down your arms, featherlight across your skin, stirring electric anticipation with every touch. As he reached the intricate fastenings of your dress, he took a moment, fingers moving with careful skill. The complicated ties and loops gradually gave way under his gentle yet assured attention, each undone knot a quiet act of unfolding trust between you.

Despite the complexity, there was no rush. Each movement was deliberate, a testament to the patience and reverence he held for you. As he finally loosened the last of the fabric, it cascaded slowly away, finally revealing your body to him.

As he gazed down at you, lying nude beneath him, Cregan's eyes were filled with desire. The sight of you ignited a fire within him, a fire that burned hotter with every curve and line of your body that his eyes explored. He leaned forwards, placing another kiss on your lips before his lips moved across the contour of your jaw and down below your ear towards your neck.

He nipped playfully at the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, igniting a primal fire within you. His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips possessively as he worshipped your body with an intensity that made you feel both alive and claimed. His hands were large and rough, the sensation of them driving you to buck your hips towards him, an action that earned you a smile from him.

His mouth found your breasts, and he lavished fierce attention there, his tongue and teeth teasing your sensitive skin with a raw, untamed passion. You gasped, arching into him, caught in the delicious tension between pleasure and the edge of pain. Unfamiliar ground, but a place you desperately wanted to explore.

Moving lower, his kisses trailed down your stomach, his rough stubble leaving a faint, delightful sting in its wake. His tongue flicked out, tasting your skin, savouring every moment like a beast intoxicated by the scent of his mate. The Wolf of the North was becoming a more fitting title with every passing moment.

As he descended, his hands traveled over your thighs, gripping firmly, spreading you open with a commanding authority. The heat of his breath lingered over the most sensitive parts of you, promising a wild, primal ecstasy that set your nerve endings aflame.

As he spread you open with a commanding authority, his eyes never left yours, locked in an intimate connection that intensified the already potent atmosphere. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin, the sound of it echoing in your ears like the primal growl of a predator claiming its mate.

His fingers dug into your thighs, the sensation both possessive and possessively pleasurable, a reminder of the raw, animalistic passion that coursed through his veins. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the heat of his breath teasing you with the promise of the wild, primal ecstasy that awaited you.

And then, without warning, his tongue darted out, tasting your most sensitive flesh with a skill that belied his seemingly untamed demeanour. You cried out, the sound a mixture of shock and pleasure, as if the very air had been set alight.

Every lick, every touch, served to fan the flames of your desire, the room around you seeming to grow hotter and more humid with each passing second. Your heart was racing, your breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed in the charged silence between you.

Then, just as you thought you might shatter from the intensity, he stopped. The sound that left your lips was a mixture of desperation and longing as you lifted your head, peering down at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

His focus shifted to his attire, hands moving with a fevered urgency as he worked to free himself from the confines of his clothing. He shrugged off his cloak, the fabric falling away followed by the soft sound of it hitting the floor.

Next came the leather armour, the buckles, and straps relinquishing their hold under his skilled hands. Piece by piece, it slipped away, revealing the well-defined muscles that lay beneath, each movement unveiling more of the powerful physique that had surprised you the first night you had met him.

Finally, he reached for the linen shirt, the last barrier between you and the man beneath. He pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, the fabric tousling his dark hair before falling forgotten to the floor.

Your breath caught at the sight before you—his chest, broad and strong, the muscles shifting beneath the skin like a promise of the power he possessed. His skin gleamed softly in the firelight, each shadow and highlight accentuating the raw, masculine beauty of his form. The light played across his chest, catching on the subtle scars that marked his skin, each one a testament to his strength and prowess as a warrior. They told silent tales of battles fought and won, accentuating the sinewy resilience of a body refined through conflict and survival. The body of a Northerner.

With nothing left to hide, he met your gaze once more, his storm-grey eyes locked onto yours, reflecting a hunger as deep and consuming as your own. He swept his hair from his eyes, a movement filled with deliberate intent, and closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, his body descending like a promise of passion unspoken.

He was rougher with you than he had been before, his tongue moving with firm skill that served only to push you towards the precipice of pleasure. His arms were circled your thighs, his fingertips digging into your skin, right to the point that lingered between pleasure and pain. He chased you to the edge of ecstasy, your hips bucking upwards in response, the intensity of your climax completely overwhelming you. But he didn't relent, his tongue persisting in its relentless pursuit, never wavering from its mission, as though he was driven by a primal need to bring you to the brink of pleasure again and again.

The room seemed to swirl around you, the air thick with the scent of desire and the sounds of your ragged breaths.

"Cregan," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched your back, the muscles in your legs tensing as you rode out another wave of pleasure. Your other hand clutched at the furs beside you, as you bucked your hips and rode out another wave of pleasure.

His mouth drifted away from yours, and you thought the unrelenting rhythm had finally paused. But then, his finger pressed into you with a gentle insistence, a sensation that was teasing rather than painful. As if sensing your reaction, his mouth returned to your sensitive spot, and his finger curled upwards, creating a blissful mix of sensations.

You found yourself gripping the sheets, your jaw tight, as you tried to hold back the temptation to cry out. The intensity of his actions sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and utterly captivated in the moment.

His mouth moved from you, and you thought that the relentless cycle had come to an end, you felt one of his fingers gently press into you, it wasn’t painful, but tender. His mouth returned to your clit just as his finger curled upwards towards your bellybutton. It made you grab at the sheets and clench your jaw as you resisted the urge to scream out at the overwhelming pleasure both actions made wash over you.

As his mouth returned to your clit, your hands found the sheets, gripping them tightly as you steeled yourself against the onslaught of sensations. The sensation of his finger curling upwards towards your bellybutton was an exquisite mix of pleasure and anticipation, the intensity building up within you like a tempest.

Your jaw clenched, your breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed in the charged silence between you both. In that moment, it was as if the entire world had shrunk down to just the two of you.

His mouth moved from you, his breath hot on your sensitive flesh. "I want to hear you." he whispered before returning his mouth to you. His finger flexed up, and you again resisted the urge to cry out in pleasure.

His mouth lifted away, and you felt his hot breath on your sensitive skin. "I want to hear you," he murmured softly, his voice like a tempting promise, before he returned his mouth to you. His finger flexed upward, drawing out a surge of pleasure that tested your restraint.

Then he began to kiss and suck relentless again, as if attempting to draw the screams from you. His finger curled upwards, touching something inside that made your vision go white at the moment your climax once again washed over you.

"Cregan," you yelled, your hand grabbing his hair so hard it must have hurt, but he didn’t flinch.

Finally , he pulled away from you, looking up your body and meeting your eye. His mouth was slick with you. His shoulders flexed with a subtle, powerful grace, he slid another finger alongside the first, his touch both careful and deliberate, igniting a new wave of anticipation.

Rising to his feet, he maintained a slow, deliberate rhythm with his fingers, each movement sending shivers down your spine as the fire inside your stomach began to build again. His other hand skilfully worked the belt, the buckle coming undone with a precise flick of his wrist. As he slipped it free, his gaze remained locked on the mesmerising dance of his fingers moving in and out of you. His hand found its way into his trousers, fingers curling around himself, the heat of his own desire evident in his touch. The intensity in his storm-grey eyes reflected the deep, consuming hunger that mirrored your own.

You yearned for him, no, you needed him. The anticipation he had teased out in you ignited a craving deeper than you'd ever imagined possible, reaching into the very core of your being.

He withdrew his fingers from you, leaving you aching with unfulfilled desire. With a decisive movement, he pushed his trousers down his hips, the fabric hitting the floor with a soft thud. His thick cock sprang free, the sight of it causing a fresh wave of lust to surge through you.

You moved to climb off the bed, your desire to take him in your mouth burning bright within you. But as you sat up, he stepped forwards with an air of quiet authority. "No, you stay." he whispered, as he caught your hand as you reached to touch his cock.

"Please?" you whimpered, your eyes falling to his cock, thick veins bulging along its surface.

"Lie back, I told you. Tonight we fuck like Northerners.” he breathed, and you swallowed, sinking back onto the soft furs as you lay on the mattress.

He stepped forwards, grabbing your hips and pulling you roughly, so your pussy was in line with the edge of the bed. His thumb moved to circle your clit. The action causing you to draw in a sharp intake of breath as his rough thumb rubbed the sensitive pearl of flesh.

tThen, his hand shifted, the intensity replaced by the hot head of his cock now sliding up the length of your pussy. He paused momentarily, drawing a sharp intake of breath from you, before he delivered a single swift thrust. Then, he began to glide the length of his cock over your sensitive clit, his movements slow and torturous, each deliberate stroke arousing torment against the bundle of nerves.

Next, he shifted his position, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss as he continued to slowly thrust over you. His hand cradled the back of your head, his fingers gently tangling in your hair, while the other hand braced his weight against the bed. His lips trailed down your neck, before his hand left your hair to take his cock in his hand. With meticulous care, he guided the head of his cock into you, letting out a deep, throaty moan as he began to move into you with agonising slowness. His determination to make you feel every inch of his thick shaft was evident in his every deliberate movement.

The sensation of him slowly entering you was a mix of intensity and closeness. He seemed to relish the way you moved beneath him, the gradual pace allowing you to adjust to his presence comfortably. Your eyes were drawn to the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply, the tension evident in his firm grip on the bedding beside you, his knuckles turning white. You took comfort in the fact that this was just as torturous for him as it was for you.

With a low grunt from him, he fully seated himself inside you, the sensation an overwhelming mix of pleasure and an indescribable sensation. You revealed in the way that you could take all of him, and the way that he filled you up so completely.

Then he began to rock his hips, slowly, barely any movement at all to begin with, as his grey eyes searched yours asking a silent question. You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still clutching your hip and nodded.

As his rhythm quickened, his restraint fell away, replaced by a raw, instinctual drive. His hands gripped your hips, anchoring you to him as every thrust sent waves of pleasure cascading through your body. Your fingers found his wrists, holding on tightly, each touch grounding you in the exquisite intensity of the moment.

He leaned forward, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, every exhale punctuated by a low, primal sound. The connection between your bodies was electric, a shared surge of desire that spurred him to move even faster, each movement more powerful, more consuming.

His hands shifted, one pressing gently on your lower stomach, sending a delightful pressure radiating through you. The sensation heightened your awareness of him, feeling the rhythm of his thrusts and the warmth of his body as it melded with yours.

On the brink of climax, his furious movements pushed you ever closer to that edge—a presence so consuming it threatened to unravel you completely. When the wave finally crashed over you, pulling you under in a rush of explosive sensation, he didn't stop. The relentless rhythm continued, driving you beyond the familiar boundaries of pleasure.

Overwhelmed, you tipped your head back, an almost guttural scream escaping your lips, a testament to the raw, unfiltered intensity coursing through you. You found yourself dancing on that delicate line where ecstasy and pain blurred, but you didn’t dare tell him to stop.

You whimpered softly, your fingers clenching into a tight fist as you bit down on your knuckle. The waves of pleasure threatened to consume you whole, yet in this moment of raw intensity, you found unexpected strength.

Cregan's voice, low and gravelly, resonated with a heady mixture of desire and reverence, punctuating the rhythm of their intimate dance. "Come on now wife," he murmured between breathy moans, the sound of his words blending with the symphony of gasps and sighs that filled the air. "You're the lady of Winterfell. You can take its Lord."

His words were a potent reminder of your role, your status, and what this act would hopefully lead to.

You gritted your teeth, clutching the sheets tightly as another wave of pleasure surged through you. Looking up at him, you marvelled at the way his muscles rippled, flexing with every powerful thrust. The firelight danced across his skin, highlighting the sheen of sweat that accentuated his strong, chiseled form.

In that moment, there was an undeniable sense of possessiveness that bloomed within you—he was yours, completely yours.

His thrusts grew increasingly needy, each one carrying a fiery urgency that filled the quiet room with its resonance. His grunts grew louder, breaking through the stillness, raw and primal. He breathed heavily, the oxygen fuelling his relentless pace.

You watched as his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle in his cheek flexing, a clear sign of his nearing peak. The intensity in his eyes spoke volumes, revealing a vulnerability rarely seen—a moment where desire and emotion intertwined, leaving you both on the cusp of something beautifully potent.

Then he reached his peak, a loud grunt escaping his lips as his final, powerful thrusts rocked through you. The rhythm became a series of uncontrolled, yet intimately satisfying movements, until he nestled deep inside you, your hips aligned perfectly.

He leaned down, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as he captured your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You cupped his face tenderly, feeling the warmth and tenderness of the moment, his kiss sloppy but passionate.

He released himself gently, collapsing onto the bed beside you with a satisfied sigh. Rolling over, he wrapped an arm around you, drawing you close against his chest, his heartbeat a comforting rhythm beneath your ear.

In the soft glow of the firelight, you nestled into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. It was a moment of peace and connection, where words were unnecessary, and the world seemed to shrink away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a cocoon of shared warmth and tenderness.

[laurathebabex]

Pierced Nipples

Tom Taylor x reader

Fluff

Tom knocked lightly on your apartment door, the sound barely audible over the quiet hum of the city outside. He’d texted you earlier to say he was stopping by, but you hadn’t replied, which was unusual for you. Still, he figured you might just be napping or distracted.

When you didn’t answer after a moment, he let himself in, the spare key you’d given him jangling in his hand.

“Babe?” he called out, stepping into your place and kicking off his shoes. The living room was quiet, the faint sound of your cat’s purring the only thing breaking the silence.

He rounded the corner into your bedroom and froze.

You were lying on your back on the bed, your head propped up slightly on a pillow, a pair of ice packs resting strategically on your chest. You were wearing one of your thinner bralettes, and though it was doing its best to keep everything in place, it wasn’t hiding much.

To top it all off, your cat was sprawled across your stomach, fast asleep, completely unfazed by your predicament.

Tom blinked, taking in the scene with a mix of concern and confusion. “Uh… should I even ask what’s going on here?”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you groaned softly, shifting just enough to glance at him. “Hey,” you mumbled, your voice slightly strained. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“No kidding,” he said, stepping closer and gesturing at you. “What happened? Are you okay? And why—” His words caught in his throat as he realized what was happening. “Wait. Did you…?”

You gave him a sheepish smile, wincing slightly as you adjusted one of the ice packs. “Got my nipples pierced.”

Tom blinked again, his mouth opening and closing like he wasn’t sure how to respond. “You… what?”

“I’ve been wanting to for a while,” you explained, your voice defensive but light. “Figured today was the day.”

His eyes darted from your face to the ice packs on your chest, and then back to your face. “And how’s that working out for you?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement despite his initial shock.

You shot him a deadpan look. “Well, I’ve got ice packs on my boobs, so… you tell me.”

Tom chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you. He reached out to scratch behind your cat’s ears, his gaze softening as he looked back at you. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said with a small grin. “But they’ll look amazing once they heal.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

You rolled your eyes, but the faint blush creeping up your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. “Don’t get any ideas, Taylor. It’s going to be a while before you can even think about touching them.”

Tom raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. For now.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before settling back beside you. “You need anything? Ice refills? Painkillers? A medal for bravery?”

You laughed, relaxing into the pillows as his playful presence eased some of your discomfort. “Just you hanging out here is good enough. Oh, and maybe making sure the cat doesn’t crush me.”

Tom smirked, reaching over to gently move the cat off your stomach. “You got it, babe. Though I’m still processing the fact that you voluntarily inflicted pain on yourself for the sake of shiny nipples.”

“Shiny hot nipples,” you corrected, grinning despite the ache.

Tom chuckled, shaking his head as he stretched out beside you. “Fair enough. But for the record, you’re already perfect, piercings or not.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder as the two of you fell into an easy, comfortable silence—your cat curling back up near your feet, completely unbothered by the commotion.

[laurathebabex]

Mama's Boy

Cregan Stark x Wife!Reader

Tags: smut, fingering (fem. receiving), p. in v. sex, breeding kink, just overall cuteness

Kiergan, the direwolf of your husband, Cregan Stark, has been acting strange lately - always by your side, even more than normal. It causes you great concern, and Cregan too. But there is a reason that Kiergan has been so attentive to you lately - a surprise that you and Cregan welcome with joy.

Based on this ask. ❤️

Your eyes open slowly, registering the sky getting lighter by the minute from beyond the windows. It must be just after the hour of the nightingale. Your head is nestled against Cregan’s chest, slowly moving up and down as he breathes steadily, still asleep. You can hear his heartbeat thump quietly in his chest – a heart that is yours, and yours alone.

Slowly turning your head, you place your lips against his warm skin and wrap your arms even more snugly around his torso. You love being this close to him – and kissing some part of him when you first wake up is your favorite part of the day. 

He stirs beneath you, his long, muscular body sliding against the sheets and your skin from where you’re draped across his body. You kiss his chest again, open-mouthed, and leave a wet trail directly over his heart.

His arms tighten around your back as he wakes to the world, his eyes slowly blinking open. He registers you on top of him, and a warm smile spreads across his lips. It makes your own heart beat rapidly with love for him, your perfect husband.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice still thick from sleep.

Your own smile spreads wider across your cheeks, and you shift your body on top of him, stretching up for a good morning kiss. He accepts it happily, tugging you even further up his body, and it makes your love and want of him stir deep inside of you. You really can’t ever get enough of him. Sliding your hands from around his middle, you reach up to caress his face, your fingers stroking the stubble on his cheeks.

“Good morning, handsome,” you whisper in between kisses, and nuzzle your nose softly against his. 

“Mmm,” he hums against your lips, and then licks at the seam of them, asking you to part for him. You do, and he licks into you hungrily. You do the same to him, and the way your tongues dance in a silky slide makes your want shift into a need, for his kisses and the feeling of his hands caressing your body over your satin nightgown has heat and wetness pooling between your legs. You always feel this way around him, but it’s especially strong this morning.

As if he can read your mind, and as if he’s having the same thoughts, his hands lift your body on top of his to straddle his waist, your nightgown becoming bunched up around your hips. His palms slip down your waist and along the back of your thighs, making you shiver as he gently tugs your legs further apart until your core rests directly over his hips. You can’t help but roll your hips against his, feeling his hardening length brush against your folds, separated by the linen fabric of his small clothes. The sensation makes you whimper, and you roll your hips again.

“Gods, I love you,” he husks, his hands curling around your hips and helping you grind against him. It makes his breath hitch when your core rubs against his sensitive tip, trapped in his clothes.

Your hands slide along his cheeks to then curl around the nape of his neck, kissing him even deeper. He matches your eagerness, and shifts his hips to rock up against yours as you grind down on him, making the sensation even more pleasurable.

“I love you too,” you breathe when you part for air. “Cregan, I need you, please,” you plead, your thighs squeezing his hips as your core clenches around nothing.

A groan escapes his lips and he nods, knowing exactly what you need. You can tell he needs it too.

His hands tug your nightgown the rest of the length of your body, pulling the delicate fabric up and over your head, and letting it fall to the floor. You shiver beneath his hands as they run over every part of your heated skin, before he draws your body further up his, your knees and shins dragging against the soft sheets. His strength never ceases to surprise you, and turn you on. You let out a soft moan against his lips. 

He lets out a shuddering breath in return, and makes quick work of lifting his hips and quickly shoving his small clothes down his hips and legs, and kicking them further down the bed, wedged into the sheets.

You desperately want to shift backwards to really feel his silky cock slide between your wet folds, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pulls you a bit more up his body until your knees can go no further into the crook of his arms. Your hands tighten around his nape, momentarily unsure of his next move. As if he knows this, he lifts your hips a bit and quickly slides his right hand between your bodies until his fingers meet your core to slowly glide through your wetness, making you gasp. He’s done this many times now, but it always drives you wild. You collapse a bit against him, as his fingers slowly slip in between your folds, gathering your wetness around his fingers. 

It’s as if this is exactly what he was hoping for, because he can now easily reach your breasts with his mouth. He flicks his tongue over one nipple and then turns his head to do the same to the other, making you moan. You can feel him shiver and hear him groan beneath you, for you know how much he loves to hear your pleasure. He wastes no time before sucking on your breast, swirling his tongue around the taut peak, and slipping two fingers inside you, at the same time. 

You gasp, your lips dragging against his forehead, for the stretch is intense in the best way. You love being filled up by him like this, and he knows that.

“My perfect wife,” he breathes as he moves from one breast to the other, repeating his movements. His fingers gingerly move inside of you, letting you adjust for a moment. 

“Gods, my love,” you whine, rocking your hips down against his digits, letting him know you’re ready. 

His teeth lightly graze one of your nipples in response, making you gasp again. He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, and curling them in a come hither motion, making your gasp turn into a string of moans. 

It feels so good – so unbelievably good – and you think you would happily wake up early every morning if this was your reward. You slip a hand from behind his neck to reach above him, pressing it against the headboard to try to steady yourself as you sink further down to his chest, moaning with abandon. His free hand slides from where it’s curled around your hip, encouraging the rolling of your body, to grip your ass and tug down you closer to him, making his fingers go even deeper into you.

“Cregan, please,” you beg him, your fingers slipping down the headboard, and you know he knows what you need. He knows you so well.

He kisses the valley of your breasts, his tongue leaving a wet trail between them, and your hand curled around the back of his neck slides up, your fingers tangling in his hair. You need something to hold on to, because as he kisses you he also begins to rub his thumb over your pearl, circling his fingertip with just the right amount of pressure. 

You clench around his fingers, which are still thrusting in and out of you, brushing over the sweet spot inside you, matching his rhythm over your pearl. As you gasp against his head, and your fingers tighten in his hair, drawing a moan from his lips. Your legs are starting to shake, and he knows you’re close. He always knows.

“Does that feel good, my beautiful wife?” He husks, kissing back up your chest as far as he can reach. 

“Cregan,” is all you can manage, chasing the pleasure he’s washing over you, trying your best to not fully collapse into him

Again, he always seems to know what’s going through your mind, for his hand on your ass slides up your back and tucks you into his chest, your hand completely slipping from the headboard, only your hips remaining above him now.

You bury your face in his neck as he pants, “Come for me, my love. Let go for me, beautiful.” 

It’s just the right thing to say, and he knows it too, curling his fingers and swiping his thumb over your pearl so expertly, with such finesse, that your peak washes over you in tidal waves, making you cry out against his skin, shaking above him. His one arm holds you steady, whispering praises and how much he loves you while drawing out every last bit of pleasure from your body, his fingers never ceasing until he knows you can’t handle anymore. 

When he does still them, you nuzzle your face into his neck and he turns his head to kiss you, slow and deep, eventually gingerly drawing his fingers from inside you. You whimper at the loss, and push yourself back up, hovering over him once more. His drenched and now free hand joins his other around your back, gently caressing your skin and gazing up at you. The fur covers slip down your back as you sit up even more, looking down at him. The love you feel for him is like nothing else you’ve ever experienced. And the ache you feel in this moment to have him inside of you is unmatched.

You gently place your hands on his chest for support, splaying your fingers over his muscles, and shift yourself back down his body. Your eyes never leave his, not until you feel his leaking tip slip between your folds. He presses his head back into the pillow for a moment, his eyes fluttering shut, and lets out a soft groan. You love hearing him like this, voicing his pleasure, all because of you. His hands caress your thighs and hips, and he opens his eyes to find yours once more. 

As he does, you lift your hips and reach between your thighs to take his length in your hand, slowly stroking him up and down, drawing a moan from his lips. You feel him shudder beneath you too, and his hips cant up to chase the pleasure you’re giving him. You could spend all day doing this – watching his ab muscles clench beneath you, feeling his hands squeeze your thighs because it all feels so good, listening to him moan as you twist your hand over his weeping tip.

He’s watching you, breathless and so aroused, and it only gets better when you finally angle his tip against your core, and start to sink down on his length. He looks so in awe of you, so in love. Both of you let out moans, and your fingers dig into his chest and while his hands curl around your hips, watching and feeling himself disappear inside your warm, wet cunt.

It’s as if he was made for you, filling you with more than you think you can take, but desperate to take all of him. He brushes snugly against your walls, making pleasure rush through your body. Finally your hips meet his, and you feel that sense of completeness, of being whole, fill your body alongside the pleasure and all of himself that he’s giving you.

“I love you so much,” you breathe, moving your hips in slow circles, feeling him swirl deep inside you. A shiver runs up your spine as he carefully shifts his hips too, making him go even deeper, and pulling a soft moan from your lips.

“And I love you, my darling,” he says, caressing your hips and back, so tenderly, looking up at you with reverence. You realize it’s been far too long since you’ve kissed him last, and you lean down to press your lips to his. As you do, your hands slide further up his chest, curling over the spot where his shoulders meet his neck, and it gives you the leverage you need to slowly start riding him. You draw your hips up and down his length, and he meets you for languid kisses while his hands travel everywhere they can reach. You know each touch is filled with so much love, making your heart feel like it might burst with the same amount of love.

“I love feeling you inside me,” you moan against his lips, setting a pace with your hips that is starting to make your legs shake again.

He moans too, and his arms circle around your back, holding you to him, before he suddenly rolls the two of you over. He stays deep inside you, his timing impeccable, and it takes your breath away to find yourself swiftly beneath him, your legs cradling his sturdy hips and your arms clinging to his neck. The look on his face – one of hunger and devotion – makes you clench around him and surge up to kiss him again, needing every last bit of him. He groans into your kiss and holds you securely in his arms, before drawing his hips back and thrusting into you, slow and deep. It makes you tilt your head back into the pillows, just as he did before, overwhelmed in the best way by the feeling of him sliding in and out of you.

He dips down to kiss your neck, making you moan again, before he slides his arms out from underneath you, and braces his weight on his hands, pushing himself up to kneel, your knees now hugging his hips. Your arms let him go, trailing your fingers down his chest as he looms above you. You know you will never tire of seeing him like this.

His hands caress your thighs and he leans over to place kisses on both of your knees, his thrusts slow and shallow now, dragging teasingly inside you. You squeeze your legs against his sides, wanting him to set a dizzying pace, but he’s taking his time. Before you can say anything, he glides his hands down the sides of your thighs, and then behind them, his palms gently pushing against your hamstrings.

“I want to try something, my love,” he husks, while drawing his tip back to the entrance of your cunt, slowly pushing himself in and out of you, again and again. It sends sparks of pleasure up and down your spine, making you even more wet for him, if that’s possible. You just barely register his words, and you know he can tell, because he stops moving for a moment, letting you catch up.

You nod your head with a soft moan, letting him know it’s okay to do whatever he wants – that you trust him. He knows that, but it makes your heart swell that he always needs to check in with you. You know his desire to protect you runs as deep as his desire for you.

With your okay, he presses against your hamstrings more, gently folding your legs down to your torso, so your thighs graze your breasts. He carefully leans his weight into you, and his eyes ask if this is okay. You nod again, excitement coursing through your body, and your hands caress up and down his arms. You can feel his strength in the tension of the taut muscles and tendons that wrap around his forearms, and it makes you breathless with how much you crave him. You also realize that this new angle makes your core tilt up higher, allowing him, you think, to thrust down into you – something he’s never done before.

It’s something you want him to do over and over again, for the rest of your lives, for when he does roll his hips and thrust into you, your world explodes. The angle is incredible, the way his tip drags against your walls in an entirely new way, making you gasp loudly.

“Oh gods, Cregan, that feels so good,” you whine, fluttering around him as he draws back out of you. 

He groans above you as he tilts his head to kiss your shin, and then snaps his hips even faster, even harder, setting the dizzying pace you’ve been needing so badly. You grip onto his forearms, holding on as he drives into you, moan after moan leaving your lips.

“You look incredible, my love – my precious wife. Gods, you feel so good too,” he sighs, holding your gaze as he plunges into you. 

His praise makes you blush all over, you can feel it, and you know he sees it, for he grins above you and kisses your shins again, his fingers digging deliciously into the back of your thighs. 

“Love having you beneath me like this, taking me so well,” he husks, punctuating the last bits with deep thrusts, and it makes you cry out, clench around him, and hold onto his arms even tighter. It feels so good – you want to tell him, but all you can do is moan his name. You know he understands, matching your desire as he gives you everything you want.

Almost everything, you think, the realization hitting you hard. 

“My love, put a pup in me,” you beg, fluttering around his length. Hi hips stutter when your words register in his brain. You can feel his cock throb deep inside you, and he pauses for a heart beat. “Cregan, please, please,” you whimper, the urge, the need, to have him fill you, to make you a mother – the mother of his child – washes over you like nothing else ever has, a frantic longing you can’t shake. 

He presses his weight down even more against the back of your thighs, his thrusts resuming, his hips snapping so quickly as he drives into you that the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the room. His passion makes wave after wave of pleasure surge through your body, but it’s not enough, you need–

You watch and feel the force of his orgasm hit him hard. He cries out your name, and lets go of your thighs, letting your legs fall away so he can surge down to meet you in a messy, passionate kiss. Your arms curl around his neck once more, gripping onto him as you feel hot ribbons of his seed coat your insides, making you cry out too. He’s so deep inside you that you’re sure he’s kissing your womb. It’s thrilling, and through the fog in your brain you realize that he might have just done what you so yearn for. 

But he’s not done, for you feel him lean his weight on one of his elbows and slide a hand between you, still kissing you deeply as he finds your pearl once more. You gasp as he touches you in the way he knows will bring you swiftly over the edge to meet him, both of you panting against the other’s mouth, for your pleasure is his, and his pleasure is yours.

“I want nothing more than to see our child in your arms, my beautiful wife,” he whispers against your lips before tilting his forehead down to rest against yours.

And that does it. You cry out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure because of him and his words. His hand brings forth your second orgasm of the morning, not stopping until you’re satiated and blissful beneath him. When he feels your peak subside, he draws his hand back up your body and slides up to cradle your head in his hands, kissing you tenderly. Your limbs slide against his, feeling warm and euphoric and so, so in love with him.

You keep fluttering around him, the aftershocks of your orgasm and his still sparking through your body. It makes his breath hitch, sensitive inside you, but he hasn’t pulled out yet.

“I have a wild thought to just stay inside you while I get hard again, and then give you more pleasure,” he breathes, shifting his hips. It makes his cock twitch inside of you.

You giggle breathlessly against his lips, feeling a smile spread across his face. “I’d love that,” you agree, “but you have to meet with your bannermen today.” 

He scoffs lightly. “I’ll tell them to come back tomorrow.” He kisses you softly again, and you almost beg him to do just that.

“Lord Stark, you can’t do that,” you tease him between kisses. “You must meet with them, and I have work of my own to do today too.” As you say this, you gently tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. 

He groans, and presses himself deeper into you, making you gasp. “As you wish, Lady Stark.” He’s teasing you now too. You both have come to love this game.

“Cregan,” you whine, and you can tell it takes all of his willpower to gingerly pull out of you, kissing your neck as he does so.

“Later then,” he murmurs against your skin, and you nod before tilting your head to the side for one more kiss. Though you’ve just come twice, his promise makes excitement pool in your belly.

He smiles down at you, as if he’s having the same thoughts, and pushes himself up to climb off the bed, on the hunt for a wash cloth.

“Oh, gods be good,” he says with a light laugh. “I’m sorry, boy.” You watch him squat down.

You sit up. “What is it?”

“When I tossed your nightgown to the floor, it landed on Kiergan,” he says sheepishly, shaking his head and laughing again. 

You crawl to the edge of the bed, and peer down at the mass of black fur sprawled out on the floor, on your side of the bed. The haunches of Cregan’s direwolf, Kiergan, are indeed covered with your nightgown. He didn’t even seem to move, clearly having accepted his fate as he tried to continue sleeping.

“Cregan,” you admonish him playfully, climbing off the bed to take your nightgown from his hands as he lifts it off of Kiergan. 

“I didn’t mean to, I was…preoccupied,” he says with a small smirk, now standing to fish around between the sheets for his small clothes. 

You scoff lightly, and tug your nightgown back on. Then you kneel down by Kiergan’s head, who sniffs you gently. “I’m sorry, sweet boy,” you say, stroking his thick black fur. Kiergan lets out a dramatic sigh, making you and Cregan laugh. You look up to see Cregan tugging on a pair of trousers now, before grabbing his tunic from yesterday, draped over a chair.

“I’m going to call for Dierdra to ask her to run you a bath,” he says, referring to your lady’s maid and walking over to the door.

“Will you join me?” You ask suddenly, letting a strap of your nightgown fall seductively from your shoulder. 

He leans against the door frame for a moment, evidently wanting to break his earlier promise that he’d wait until later to bring you more pleasure. He licks his lips and nods. “Of course, my beautiful wife.”

You smile coyly up at him, feeling yourself blush, despite the things you’ve already done this morning. “I would like that,” you say, still stroking Kiergan. You find your confidence to be bold with him. “Perhaps I can give you pleasure.”

You watch him blush now too, clearly not expecting you to say that. You love when he gets like this too. He’s grown so much over the last few months of marriage to you, but you can still catch him off guard sometimes.

He clears his throat. “I would like that,” he says, his voice a bit gravelly. “I’ll be right back.” He disappears from the doorway before you can say anything else to make him blush.

You smile to yourself, and lean down to press a kiss to Kiergan’s head. Of all the things you didn’t expect to have in your life as the Lady of Winterfell, an actual direwolf was near the top of the list. Cregan had found him as an injured pup a year before your wedding night, and you hadn’t realized how much you would grow to love this massive animal. 

Kiergan had been a bit hesitant around you at first, not sure what to make of you. But once he realized that you had become a part of the pack he shared with Cregan, his adoptive father, he warmed to you quite quickly. Slowly, he started following you around as you learned and tended to your responsibilities as Lady Stark. These days, Kiergan splits his time by about half between following you around as you do your duties, or following Cregan around while he does his. It excited you most when Kiergan decided to start laying next to your side of the bed (though the warm hearth is on your side of the bed) and when he started to lay at your feet while you and Cregan eat meals in the Great Hall (though you do sneak him food when Cregan isn’t looking). But you really feel that Kiergan has developed a deep affection for you, like you are his mother now. Last night, Kiergan had stuck his nose into the covers, feeling around to make sure you were in bed, as if he wanted to make sure you were safe too. Then you watched him lay down, stretching his body along the length of the bed. It warmed your heart and left a smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.

You lean down to place one more kiss to his soft head, and then stand, padding over to the wardrobe to pick out your dress for the day.

Five Weeks Later

“Oof, Kiergan,” you mumble, bumping into his head as you try to sit down at the breakfast table. 

Cregan notices too as he sits down. “Are you alright, my love?”

You look up as you scoot past Kiergan, sitting down. “Yes, I’m fine. He just seems to be constantly underfoot these days. I feel bad – I bump into him a lot.”

Cregan gives you a look of pity. “I think he just loves you a lot, is all. And who can blame him?”

You smile, smoothing your dress out, and leaning down to scratch Kiergan’s head. “Thank you, my darling. He just seems to be more attached to me than usual. Everytime I turn around, there he is.”

Cregan chuckles, taking a sip of his water. “Well, you do spoil him, sweet wife.”

You scoff, giving Kiergan one more stroke on his head before sitting up fully and filling your breakfast plate. “I do not.”

“I’ve seen you sneak him food from the table, my love. I think he’s hoping you will do so right now.” He eyes you with a smirk as he spreads jam on his toast.

You feel yourself flush. You were so sure he hadn’t caught you sneaking Kiergan bits from the table. 

“Well, he’s a very good boy, and I don’t want food to go to waste,” you say, sitting up straighter in your chair, and fixing your own piece of toast. You glance up at Cregan, who is still smirking at you.

“Mhm,” he replies, taking a bite. “But he’s certainly become a mama’s boy now, I think.”

You give Cregan a small smile, and roll your eyes playfully. But it does warm your heart to think of Kiergan in this way, your sweet adopted son. You look down at him for a moment, his black fur rising and falling as he breathes, but feel a sudden, nagging worry about him. You look back up at Cregan. “Cregan, I truly am worried about him though,” you state, and Cregan pauses his cup on the way to his mouth.

You continue on. “The last few weeks, he’s been following me around like a lost pup. He’s constantly sniffing me, even when we are far away from food. He’ll hardly let anyone come near me, except for you… Do you think he might be sick? Do you think he’s looking for comfort because something is wrong?”

Cregan sets his glass down, his eyebrows knitting together. “Now that I think about it, he hasn’t spent much time with me lately… I’ll speak with Maester Tolin today. He’ll have a look at Kiergan.” 

You nod, but your expression must be unconvincing, for he continues on. “All will be well, my love. I promise.”

You take a bite of your toast, but suddenly food doesn’t seem to agree with you. You take a deep breath, knowing your worry over Kiergan must be getting to you now. “I think I would like to go lay down and have a short rest. I’m feeling awfully tired at the moment.” 

“Sweetheart, are you not feeling well?” Cregan asks, reaching over the table to place his hand over yours. “I can call for Maester Tolin now.”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, Cregan, really. I think a short rest will help. I don’t think I slept well last night, and I’m sure my appetite will improve once I’ve had some rest.” There is truth in this – you really didn’t sleep well last night either, tossing and turning for some unknown reason. You now know it must have been because you’ve been worrying over Kiergan, deep in your mind, and haven’t realized it until now.

His eyes search your face, and his palm rubs soothingly over yours. “Of course, my love. Do you want me to come with you?”

You give him a smile. “No, that’s alright. I’ll only sleep for just a little while. And you have to meet with the stonemasons soon about repairing that part of the wall by the North Gate.”

“I can speak with them later, my darling… But if you’re sure.” He seems hesitant to let you leave his sight now, for his need to protect you and make sure you’re okay runs to his core. It makes you love him all the more.

“I’m sure, sweet husband. I’ll be just fine, I promise.” You shift in your seat, making to stand, and Kiergan leaps to his feet, standing beside you in less than a heartbeat. The wolf looks over at you, his head level with yours and his golden eyes boring into yours. You look at him for a moment, your stomach turning with worry, and then back at Cregan, before standing up. “And anyway, Kiergan seems keen to join me. Perhaps he could use the rest too.”

Cregan lets out a light laugh. “He does, doesn’t he?” 

You walk around your chair and stretch up on your toes to kiss Cregan’s cheek and place your hands on his chest, with Kiergan stopping alongside you. Cregan’s hands gently encircle your waist, and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll come check on you in a little while,” he says gently. You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. He looks down at Kiergan, and reaches a hand out to stroke his head. “Watch over your mama, okay?”

You watch Kiergan lean into Cregan’s touch and tilt his head, asking in his own way for Cregan to scratch behind his ear – his favorite spot. Cregan obliges him with a smile, and gives him a good scratch for a moment. When Kiergan has had his fill, he looks up at you, and his eyes seem to say, “I’m ready when you are.”

“We’ll see you in a little while,” you say to Cregan, and he nods, letting you and Kiergan leave the Great Hall, and make your way back up to your chambers. 

Kiergan walks in step with you, close to your leg, his fur brushing against your dress. He has been doing much of this lately. Even more curiously, when he sees one of the servants, Amelia, coming down the stairs, he switches to your other side, putting his body between you and her. It’s very odd behavior, but perhaps it’s his way of getting your attention; of telling you that something is wrong.

“M’lady,” Amelia greets you, stopping on the stairs with a polite curtsy. “Can I help you with anything?”

“No, thank you, Amelia. I’m just fine. I’m going to rest for a bit.” You give her a kind smile.

“Shall I send for Dierdra?” Ameila asks. She takes another step down the stairs, closer to you. Kiergan, in response, shifts his body even more closely to you, eyeing Ameila. You see the young girl notice, swallow nervously, and then take a step back up the stairs.

“He’s been acting strangely lately,” you say, looking down at him, and then back up at Amelia. “Nothing to worry about though… That would be helpful, yes. Could you have her wake me in about an hour?” Now that you think about it, it might be nice for Dierdra to run you a bath after you rest. It might help your nerves.

“Of course, m’lady. I tell her to come see you then.” Amelia curtsies once more, eyeing Kiergan for a moment, and then hurries past him down the stairs, her basket of firewood bouncing on her hip.

“Come, sweet boy,” you say, beginning to climb the steps again and making your way to your chambers, Kiergan always in step with you.

When you enter the room, you sit down on the bed to remove your boots, now very glad that you’ve decided to rest. You really are tired. Kiergan sits right next to you, his perfective eyes focused on you.

You reach out to stroke his head. “What is it, sweet boy?” His eyes simply search yours. You take this moment to look him over carefully. There doesn’t appear to be any physical changes to him. His eyes and coat are as bright and shiny as ever. His nose is wet, as it typically is. He doesn’t wheeze when he breathes. He doesn’t limp when he walks, climbs, or runs. You take a deep breath, carding your fingers through his thick fur. Maester Tolin will have answers, you reassure yourself, he always does. As if Kiergan agrees, he lays down along the thick rug on your side of the bed, as he always does now.

You climb into bed too, pulling the covers over you, but it’s still cold, for Cregan isn’t here to warm you up as he normally does. You sit back up, and look down at the wolf.

“Kiergan,” you call softly. He lifts his head, and looks up at you. “Up, boy,” you say, patting the bed. He heaves his large frame up to stand, and then climbs up on the bed, as if it’s a small step up a set of stairs, for he’s so large. He looms over you for a moment, a mass of dark fur, before he lays down, directly over your feet. You instantly feel warmer, and comforted that he’s closer to you; that you can keep an eye on him. Though he seems to be keen to keep an eye on you, for his golden eyes are watching you intently.

“Thank you, sweet boy,” you say softly, and then lay back down, sinking into the pillows. You shut your eyes, and concentrate on the steady sound and feeling of Kiergan breathing at your feet, willing yourself to find some rest.

You wake to feel a hand stroking your cheek, and sleepily open your eyes, blinking them to focus. Cregan’s handsome face comes into view. He has a soft smile on his face.

“Gods, how long have I slept for?” You ask him, stretching your stiff limbs. You’re quite warm too, thanks to Kiergan.

“Not long, my love,” he says softly, still stroking your cheek. “I spoke with Maester Tolin.”

You sit up a bit, and he shifts closer to you on the bed.

“About Kiergan?” You ask, suddenly worried now.

“Mhm,” he says, still smiling, “and about you.” 

Confusion crosses your face. Why is he smiling? “What did he say?” You ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Cregan reaches out to take one of your hands in his, and brings it to his lips to press a kiss to it.

“We’ve figured out that Kiergan isn’t sick, my love. He’s protecting you…because you’re with child.” His smile spreads across his face, his eyes searching yours.

“What?” You say, your free hand instantly covering your belly. You look from Cregan, to Kiergan, who is watching you too, as he always does, and then back to Cregan. “You really think so?” You ask, daring to hope.

“We do,” Cregan says, his free hand coming up to cover yours on your belly. “He’s been acting strange for weeks now, aye? He’s always near you, so he can keep a close eye on you. He won’t let anyone but me get too close to you, for fear that they might harm you and the baby. And, you haven’t bled in…”

Your eyes meet his, all of it clicking into place, and you take a mental count of the days, “More than a moonturn. I haven’t bled in five weeks.” Your eyes search his face, and you both know that is unusual for you, for your menses always come on time, like clockwork. Now, they’re overdue. “Do you…do you think it was that morning?” You think back to the morning you asked him to make you a mother – other than a mother to Kiergan, of course. 

He tilts his head to the side, smiling and blushing too, clearly remembering the same morning you’re referring to. “It’s possible, my love. That was at least a moonturn ago, I’m sure of it.”

You feel like your heart is going to leap out of your chest, and you scramble from under the covers to kneel, alarming both Cregan and Kiergan, for they both know you shouldn’t be moving that fast. But you’re too happy, too excited. You throw your arms around Cregan, and his arms wind around your body, holding you close to him. You hug him tightly, and then pull back to look at him, his smile matching yours. His hands come up to cradle your face. 

“Time will tell, my perfect wife, but if it’s true… I’ve wanted to fill this castle with children for so long. Little Starks – half you, and half me.” You hear the emotion in his voice, and it makes tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. “I love you so much, and I know you’ll be a perfect mother.”

You lean forward to kiss him, and it’s so tender, so full of love. You feel your heart soar – the thought of bringing a child into this world, with Cregan, makes you feel whole.

“And you will be a perfect papa,” you say when you part, your hands stroking his neck gently. The look he gives you is one you’ll never forget – so grateful, so touched, and so in love. His hand rubs gently against your belly.

“Thank you, my love. That means so much to me. I can’t wait to meet our baby,” he whispers, giving you one more kiss.

When you pull away again, you lean around him and crawl to Kiergan, putting your arms around him and burying your face in his thick fur. You feel him sniff your hair.

“Thank you, sweet boy,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent. “Mama can’t thank you enough.” You feel Cregan join you, and you watch him place a kiss on Kiergan’s head.

“Thank you, my son,” Cregan whispers, stroking his wolf too.

You both look at each other, and smile, knowing that something special has only just begun.

Eight Months Later

You settle more comfortably against the pillows, and though you’re exhausted, you can’t take your eyes off of the sight before you. Cregan is sitting in a chair next to your side of the bed, cradling your little daughter, Gilliane, against his bare chest. She’s named after his mother, and you know that means the world to him. You watch him gaze down at his precious daughter in awe and with so much love, and it makes your heart feel full. 

She’s swaddled in thick furs, and is snuggled and fast asleep in her papa’s arms. She was born last night, fittingly at the hour of the wolf, and you and Cregan have spent the day just watching her, feeding her, and falling more and more in love with her. You know he’s exhausted too, not having left your side for a moment during your long labor and the birth, and then keeping a watchful eye over the two of you all day.

“My love,” you say gently, and he looks up at you, his look of love transferring from his daughter to you, his wife. You smile at him. “We should sleep when she sleeps. I’m sure she’ll wake us many times tonight. We should get some rest.” 

He nods, and then looks back down at Gilliane, and then looks down at his feet, where Kiergan is resting too. As soon as Gilliane was born, Kiergan has not left her side, knowing she is the smallest member of his pack, and must be watched over carefully. His protection, which has been with her and you from the start, is even more evident now. His little sister is his main concern from here on out.

“Come on, boy,” Cregan murmurs, standing slowly and Kiergan follows, both of them walking a few steps over to Gilliane’s bassinet. You and Kiergan watch Cregan place Gilliane down with the utmost care, tucking her in and making sure she is comfortable, before leaning down to place a soft kiss to her head. Then he steps back, allowing Kiergan to poke his head into the bassinet and make sure himself that Gilliane is okay. Satisfied, he gives Cregan’s hand a gentle lick, and then lays down, curling his massive body around the base of Gilliane’s bassinet. 

Cregan chuckles fondly. “Goodnight, sweet boy.”

You repeat Cregan’s words softly, knowing Kiergan can still hear you.

Cregan climbs into bed, and you snuggle into his arms, sore and exhausted, but happier than you’ve ever been. 

“I love you, mama,” he says, kissing the crown of your head.

“I love you too, papa,” you murmur, placing a kiss against his chest. You close your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of your husband, content and full of love, and drift off into peaceful sleep.

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[laurathebabex]

Toms back with a moustache…and a cut on his forehead🥲

[laurathebabex]

Feel better.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT

Summary: uh... Cregan relieves his wife's period cramps.

Warnings: blood, period stuff, cramps, fingering, p in v, making a bloody mess hehe, aftercare king!!!

A/n: Based on an ask!

Masterlist

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"C'mon," he tutted. "Get up, sweet girl. The North waits on you."

She groaned and rolled over to view him. In the light, he looked ethereal. She could stare at him all day. "The North waits on you, Cregan."

"And I wait on you. Therefore, we all wait on you."

"Fine," she groaned again, sitting up with Cregan's help. Truthfully, Cregan had pulled her up, but he let her think she was doing it of her own accord. 

He brushed her hair behind her ear. "There you are." His hand trailed down her neck, brushing the soft skin. "Oh," his voice lowered. "Is it time already?"

"What are y-" she didn't have to look. She could feel it.

Blood on the fabric of the bed and soaked into her nightgown. 

"Well," Cregan mused. "Suppose the North can wait on us a little longer."

"No. You should go."

His brow quirked down. "You feel alright?"

With a shake of her head, she flopped back down onto the bed. 

He chuckled and cooed at her. "My poor girl." He brushed a hand over her stomach, pushing gently to massage. But at her groan, he stopped. "How pitiful." He stood, leaning over and giving her a kiss before pulling his cloak over her shoulders. "I'll be back soon, alright? I'll cut petitions short and then I'll be yours."

…

True to his word, he appeared in their chamber again, throwing his cloak to the side without much thought. He spent time unlacing his boots, careful not to wake the half-asleep girl in the bed.

He lay in the bed next to her, pulling her into his chest and smiling when she shifted until she was comfortable. She stirred and finally opened her eyes. "Cregan?"

"Hm?" He asked. "What do you need?"

"Hurts," she muttered. "Hurts bad."

"Aw, c'mere." Though she was already near him, he lifted her onto him. He manhandled her until she straddled one of his legs, her torso resting against his. His hands massaged at her hips, pressing his thumbs into the skin and relieving the pressure. She let out a sinful groan against his neck. 

That continued for a while, the steady motion of Cregan's large hands rubbing her hips and stomach as she melted against him. 

Her breathing picked up, and her hips began to shift against his leg. 

Cregan's hands paused. Was she…?

He barely brought a leg up to brush against her. And surely enough, she whined deeply when it hit her core. "My love?" He questioned. 

"Please," she whined. 

He thought about it for a while. "Can I… Can I really help you, sweet girl?"

Her hips didn't stop, and her mouth began to gently nip at his neck. 

He wrapped a hand around her waist, the other on the back of her head. He flipped the two with ease, relishing in her soft pleases and whines. "Patience."

He adjusted the two, pulling her legs up to her chest in a stretch that made her groan. "I know," he cooed. He held her legs with one hand, pulling her nightgown up. "Let's take this thing off, hm?"

Managing it off her head, she laid bare, embarrassed and hurting. 

"I have you, my love. Keep your legs there." He forced her hands under her knees. "Just like that. For just a minute. It'll feel good."

He kept a hand on her stomach, between her legs, rubbing gentle circles.

With his other hand, he began to rub small circles on her clit. 

The sight was quite bloody, he wouldn't deny that. But he was a man. He'd fought and killed. 

Cregan Stark didn't mind blood.

Especially when it made her let out such pretty noises. 

He trailed that hand down to her slit, gently coaxing a finger in and cursing when it took him in so easily. It was a strange feeling, the warm blood coating his fingers and gushing around them. 

He'd talked to a friend about this once. Before he was married. He remembered what his friend said: Why have sex with them then if it won't give you a babe?

She wiggled and cursed appreciatively at him. She was tight. As he curled his fingers in, she was immediately overwhelmed, repeating a constant, "thank you, thank you" and "feels so good."

He had intended to just watch like this but when she began to beg for "more, Cregan. More, please," he knew he wouldn't leave her hanging.

That led to now.

He slowly rocked his hips into her, cursing at the ease in which he slid in. How was she so tight and yet taking him so easily? He could occasionally feel her tighten around him when he hit an especially sore spot. 

His lips didn't leave her face, tracing down her cheek, kissing her lips, leaving marks down her neck. He muttered sweet words under his breath. He knew she would be mortified when this was over, so the best he could do was give her reassurances now. "Feel so good," he whispered. "So perfect for me." "'M gonna help you out, hm?"

And once he felt her relax enough to take him completely, he began to really rock his hips. 

She pulled on his hair, letting out a grateful moan. "Don't stop," she sobbed. 

He kissed her cheeks, "I won't." His hand on her stomach froze. Fuck. 

He could feel himself through her- a small bulge felt under his fingertips.

He pressed down on his next thrust, intent on making her relax. 

She mewled, her voice giving out finally from the pressure and bliss and pain and all of it together. 

"You're gonna come when I say," he assured, taking complete control to let her give in.

She couldn't even deny him. She'd give him anything he wanted. 

"Can you do that?" He teased, pressing down of her stomach a bit harder. 

She mewled again, tears pricking in her eyes at the relief.

"So good," he praised. "Why don't you come for me. You earned it. Being so good. You'll feel better, pretty girl."

He felt her tighten around him and he cursed, pressing on her stomach to prolong the feeling for her.

…

"Feel a little better?" He asked gently as he set her on the bed.

She had drifted in and out of consciousness after their time together. Cregan had gotten her up and cleaned her up, bathing her carefully. 

Now, he sat behind her on the bed, brushing through her damp hair. 

She hummed a yes at him.

"Good," he mused. "That's good."

His brushing through her hair had become so relaxing that she began to drift off. Cregan caught her as she began to slump. He chuckled and tucked her in with a promise to stay by her side until she woke again.

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