#cregan stark oneshot

[moonlightrafe]

Thawed Out

summary: Frustrated after losing a game to your brothers’ team, you let Cregan take his frustration out on you.

pairing: Modern!Cregan x Targtower!Reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: Explicit smut, semi-public/rough sex, spit, p in v, creampie, 18+ MDNI

note: Sorry it’s been a month since I’ve posted!! Watch this flop asdfghkl

Your eyelids flutter as Sara lightly dabs glittery eyeshadow onto them with her ring finger.

“Try to hold still,” she tells you, just as your reflection catches her eye in the mirror that hangs on the back of her closet door.

“Oh no,” she frowns, making note of the jersey you’re wearing, “Cregan is not going to like that.”

The jersey — all black, has no distinctive feature of any team, but it does have the name “Targaryen” etched onto the back, and 01 on the front, which is your brother Aemond’s hockey number.

Cregan is number 13.

“Targaryen is my last name,” you remind her, “and besides, Cregan is the one who wants to hide me. If he wants me to wear his jersey to games, he will have to make me more than just a fuck buddy,” you shrug.

Her lips turn downward into a frown, but she nods her head in agreement with you.

Very few people are aware of your relationship with Cregan. He’s a good guy with a big heart, the complete opposite of a fuckboy or a player. The main, if not only, reason why the two of you decided to keep things a secret was so you wouldn’t have to deal with the backlash from your brothers.

Cool air whips against your face, and tensions are high with only a few minutes left remaining of the game.

You watch on eagerly as Aegon pulls a move that is supposedly illegal, but the ref’s don’t seem to count it. Resulting in your brothers’ team winning the game.

You can’t help but wince as you watch Cregan rip his helmet off and make a beeline toward Aegon on the ice.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“Aww,” your eldest brother frowns in response, “Run home with your tail between your legs!” he calls. Cregan grunts in response while the rest of Aegon’s teammates, Aemond included, howl maniacally like wolves. Making a mockery of Cregan and the rest of his team.

You roll your eyes at the scene and push your way out of the stands and through the crowd.

You pick at your fingernails nervously as you wait outside the locker room, refusing to enter until the remainder of Cregan’s teammates pass you by.

The smell of sweat fills your senses as you enter the abandoned locker room.

“Cregan,” you call, “baby?”

The locker room is quiet and dim. The only audible sound in the room is the faint buzzing of one of the poorly lit fluorescent lights.

Cregan is sat on one of the benches, his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger. You reach your arms around him.

“Hey,” you offer, “for what it’s worth, you did great.”

“I’m just so fucking pissed off!”

Cregan’s deep voice echoes through the locker room as he throws his stick to the floor. As mentioned earlier, Cregan’s a stand up guy, but his temper is a force to be reckoned with; and nothing sets it off quite like losing a hockey game.

“I know you’re upset baby,” you state empathetically as you dig the pads of your fingers into his shoulders. An attempt to massage the tense tissue, he all but grunts in response.

“You wanna take it out on me?”

“What?” He asks in a deadpan.

“Your frustration … you should just take it out on me.”

Cregan raises his eyebrows at this but he takes no time to react. He stands up quickly, his thick frame hovering over yours before he shoves you against the lockers abruptly. Gripping at your chin with force, he demands you to open your mouth. You oblige and he spits directly down your throat, you swallow obediently with a content mewl as wetness pools at your center.

A pathetic “please” is all you’re able to muster out to him as he stares at you hungrily.

He takes a seat on the bench, tugging his uniform pants and boxer briefs down to his ankles in one swift motion, exposing his cock.

His calloused hands lift you onto his lap with haste. A shiver runs through your body as he yanks down your leggings and underwear in a quick swoop, causing you to hiss as cool air fans your cunt. It isn’t long before Cregan’s warm hand is cupping you, his fingers playing in your slick.

You want to cry out when he removes his hand from you but once his hands are at your thighs again, spreading you open, you feel the throbbing head of his cock prodding against you.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, egging him on, “come on, I said, take it out on me.”

A growl erupts from his chest as he forcefully spears you down onto his cock, filling you to the hilt. Your eyes flutter shut and you try your best to suppress a moan as he begins to split you open.

He continues with unrelenting thrusts while his grip on your hips only tightens, taking full control.

“Fuckin. Targaryen’s,” he says through gritted teeth, harshly slapping the swell of your ass. Your head snaps up as you glare at him disapprovingly.

“Obviously not you baby,” he coo’s reassuringly, running his fingers along the red handprint that’s forming, soothing the pain before kneading at the tender flesh.

“It’s just— Gods, do they fuckin’ rile me up,” he mumbles as both his hands make their way to your waist again, helping him thrust into you even harder.

“I know, baby, I know” you whimper, pressing your forehead to his as he continues to fuck into you at an unrelenting pace.

“But you know just how to make me feel better, don’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you choke out as he perfectly angles his cock against your cervix.

“Yeah you do, this sweet little pussy is all I need.”

You can feel the tension building in your body at his words, your breath coming out in short gasps as he expertly moves inside of you.

His fingers trail down from your hips to your cunt again, sending hot waves of electricity through you.

His intense, grey, gaze never leaves yours. With each thrust, you feel yourself on the brink of insanity. Each drag of his length has you closer and closer to the edge.

Cregan moves with determination, his body pressed hard against yours as he takes you to new heights of pleasure. His digits finally find the apex of your thighs and pinch at your throbbing bud, causing you to gasp and arch your back.

Urging him on as he expertly works his fingers over your most sensitive spot. Each touch sends waves of pleasure through you. With one final pinch and a flick of his thumb, you’re cumming around him — gasping and trembling as the walls of your cunt tighten around his length.

His breathing comes labored and heavy, his eyes squeezed shut as he chases his own release. His own hips stuttered as he felt you continue to pulse around him. Unable to keep his composure any longer, he lets out a loud groan and spills himself inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuckin’ Targaryen’s,” he drawls, this time his tone is filled with appreciation.

[gtgbabie0]

how do you think a marriage between cregan and a lannister daughter would go?

love ur writing! keep up the good work <33

-Cregan Stark x LannisterWife!Reader

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

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

This is an old request but thank you nonetheless// hope you enjoy my lovelies💕

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

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

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

Sometimes you regret ever accepting the damn deal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[pearl-nouveau]

A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter one]

summary: Your mother, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, has always prepared you to marry and you have always resisted, terrified that you will only ever be seen as a wife. But your heart is torn when love catches you by surprise.

contains: mentions of self-harm, aged-up characters (Jace is ~19 idk)

a/n: wow i have not posted on this blog in YEARS but i lurk in tumblr reader insert oneshots like it's my part-time job, and i wrote this on AO3 so i decided to post here and hopefully get some love. i really love posting my writing even if it is not perfect, it's just a passion. let me know if i should post the second chapter and my asks are always open! xx - pearl🦪

Beauty is power, my mother used to tell me, stroking my silver hair as if it were made of golden thread. She loved my hair. Use your beauty to set yourself free. I had no idea if she meant for her words to bring some kind of comfort to me - they did not. 

Sometimes, I hated her for bringing me into the world altogether. While Jace and Luke envied my resemblance to our mother, I detested sharing her light hair and lilac eyes. It seemed to me a symbol of my imprisonment - it became clear to me, hearing all this talk of my beauty and nothing else, that I was never to be loved or seen for anything else.

In my youth, the abstract concept of my fertility and status made me a formidable form of currency within the royal family. Jacaerys, older by one year, made his way as heir by training in combat and dragonriding and studying the history of Westeros and Old Valeria - I, however, was confined to studying the family trees of the realm's powerful houses, to perform the perfect Velaryon princess and eventually be bred like a cow.

I hated my life. 

Many attempts were made to rebel against my predetermined future. At ten and two I sliced all the hair from my head, leaving a shaggy, uneven mess of shimmering half-bald patches that took years to grow back. I had never seen my mother so angry until at ten and four I began slicing patterns into my arms and legs to scar the perfect pale skin everyone complimented me on. Soon she required a chaperone with me at all times, which only made me more furious, and I began picking fights with my cuntish uncles and coming back from dragon rides inexplicably soaking or covered in soot. I waited for my mother to attempt to put together the puzzle I had laid out in front of her; to figure me out and decide that her daughter - the strong-willed, intelligent, adventurous one - matters more than the empty shell of a married woman that I will surely become. 

At the very least, my mother allowed me the power to turn away whomever I wished. It seemed she hoped I would find someone who struck my fancy. But as time passed and my antics worsened, her grip on me tightened, and I began to fear the wost: an impending betrothal. 

She frequently asked me to rack my brain and think of any previous men she had introduced me to who I may want to explore further. But I was stubborn. I maintained that no one had caught my eye, and I insisted that I would never marry. Whenever I said such things, my mother would frown at me in a way that hurt my heart. She was my greatest antagonist, but I loved her, and I knew that it saddened her to put me through such pain. 

Even if there was one man who never left an impression on me, whose memory kept me awake in the darkness of night, I would never tell my mother. It was too humiliating after so many years of fighting marriage to be seduced by love.

Every so often I allowed myself to think about him before I went to sleep, to be swept up in the beautiful dream of someone's arms around me. I could imagine him saying to me, I choose you. That was what I always dreamt of hearing. I choose you, as you are. Just you. 

Jacaerys tried to sympathize with me but he would never truly understand. He did allow me to partake in his own pastimes to grant me a change of scenery from the walls of King's Landing. 

"It infuriates me that she herself is allowed to break barriers as heir to the Iron Throne and I must remain shackled to tradition," I complained to Jace as we sparred in a remote corner of the keep. "She gets to be immortalized as the first of her name while subjecting me to a loveless marriage."

"She was in an arranged marriage with our father." Jace pointed out, sending a particularly hard offensive move my way. I easily thwarted it. 

"Well..." I trailed off. There was nothing to say, not in words, about our parents, or our parentage. It was an unspoken issue, even between Jacaerys and I who were nearly as close as twins. We supposed it would always be shrouded in mystery. We were prepared to always wonder. It seemed unthinkable to ask our mother any questions, nor our father, nor... 

Strong boys, they said. 

Perhaps Jace and I wouldn't speak of it because our difference in hair color had always been a sore subject. I was broken out of my thoughts by another offensive move, this one catching me by surprise. I stumbled back but recovered, moving around the side of my brother as he laughed at me in the way only an older brother would. 

"I'll get you back for that," I snapped at him, but grinned. He smiled back, shrugging cockily. Bring it on, his eyes told me. 

We sparred a bit more until our breaths were heavy in our throats and our swings became more jests than challenges. Eventually, he tossed his sword on the ground and fell upon a sack of grain. I sat next to him and for a moment we were not prince nor princess. We were just two siblings. I sighed, knowing it wouldn't last for long. 

Jace seemed to decide to bank on the moment as well because he looked to me and spoke. "Was there really never anyone who caught your eye? Not in all those years of meeting suitors?" He thought for a moment. "There were some good ones."

"Some good ones?" I scoffed. "Who, pray tell?" 

After a few moments of consideration, he began to chuckle and I rolled my eyes. The chuckle became a cackle and at this joke, I did not laugh along. We both knew that most of the options I had been presented with were vapid, shortsighted, insecure children, as were most men.

I was about to hit him to shut him up when he stopped suddenly and his face brightened with realization. 

"I know a good one," Jace said, "Cregan Stark."

A flush crossed my face at the name.

Usually, I only allowed that name to cross my mind in the darkness of night, but Jace had disrupted that routine. "What about him?" I tried to ask innocently. This time my brother was the one to roll his eyes at me. 

"Don't play the fool, sister," he teased, "when he came to visit those years ago everyone could see that you both took a liking to each other. Even you couldn't fight him." He nudged me playfully with his elbow. "He fights like a Northerner, and he wanted to fight for you."

"Oh, hush."

"Why did you ever turn him away anyways?"

His question silenced me. It was a painful memory. Cregan had come to treat with my grandsire and pledge his support as Warden of the North, and in those two moons he stayed at King's Landing we came to know each other well. Perhaps the reason why I had opened myself to getting to know him was because he had not come for the intention of courting me. In fact, I found him wonderfully ignorant about the social politics of the royal family, and he did not know of my existence upon his arrival. 

The day we met, I was in the Godswood with a book and a porcelain cup of candied almonds. A midnight blue veil covered my thigh-length silver hair. I hated my hair, and I hated that my mother would not let me cut it. I refused to have it braided and let it fall unbrushed and wild down my back.

He had come into the courtyard without noticing me tangled in the roots of the tree. He came closer to examine the trunk thoughtfully, allowing me a glimpse of his face through the branches. I had heard of his arrival and listened from behind closed doors at their meeting, intrigued by his deep voice and foreign accent. I listened intently as he spoke a prayer in a hushed tone. All of a sudden, his gaze shifted to meet mine between the leaves as if he had known I was there the whole time. 

"Apologies, my lady," he bowed his head slightly. "I did not know the Godswood was occupied."

"There is room enough for two," I said shyly. I was not accustomed to being pleasant towards men. I was known for being a beautiful devil, a menace with a sour tongue. It made me self-conscious to think that I was changing my behavior for a man. But I was merely matching his politeness; and he had no reason to falsify his kindness, since he had no idea who I was. 

Luckily for me, I had no reason to overthink my words because he went silent for a long while, lost in a wordless prayer. After a quarter of an hour had passed, he came closer to me, and gestured to the root beside me. 

"Do you mind if I sit?" He had asked.

I shook my head and he moved his thick cloak to drop down beside me. 

"Pardon my intrusion, my lady, I find myself feeling lonely when I come to the South. The Godswood calms me."

"I understand, Lord Stark."

His eyebrow quirked. "You know who I am?"

"I'm afraid I do." I smiled. I loved having the upper hand. I decided I wouldn't tell him who I was. 

"What is your role here in the castle, my lady?" 

"To please lords like you." I jested. Cregan leaned back slightly, taken aback. I quickly realized the suggestive wording of my joke. "Not like that," I quickly corrected, "I was just... I mean-"

"I know who you are, princess." He chuckled at me. I was glad to be rescued from the embarrassment of my failed joke. I gazed at him questioningly. He leaned forward and gently removed the veil from my head. "Unfortunately your appearance does not allow you anonymity." 

I blushed. "What have you heard about me?" 

"Nothing, I admit, until your grandsire told me about you today. He told me of your age, not many years my junior, and I supposed-"

"- That I might make a fine breeder for you?" I snapped. There went the illusion of politeness. This was where they usually ran, when I became a beast instead of a beauty. A piece of work not worth the effort. 

Instead, Cregan merely chuckled. "Actually, I sought a companion. A friend. Being here is lonely for me, and I thought you might show me what life in King's Landing is like. If I am to swear fealty to your family, I seek to know your customs. Your mother has told me that you are the most well-acquainted with the keep of her children." 

You smiled. Had your mother truly said that? It was true, since you spent so much time darting around the palace avoiding her orders. 

"Would you mind giving me a tour?" He asked. His tone was so gentle, so uncomplicated. It was like no man had ever spoken to me before. With respect, as if he were speaking to a friend. It was refreshing.

For the next few weeks, Cregan and I formed a friendship based on mutual respect. He informed me of Northern politics and asked for my opinions on complicated political matters through a Southern perspective. I introduced him to my dragon, Vermithor. Afternoons were spent in the Godswood picnicking for the purpose of introducing him to local cuisine, and evenings were spent in the library discussing literature. The relationship felt as easy as breathing to me, and I could tell he felt the same. After close to two moons, it had begun to frighten me how much I longed for his presence when we separated at the end of the day. 

There had always been a tangible tension between us that toed the line between friendship and romance. Lingering gazes, intentional touches, and meaningful words kept me up at night. He opened up to me about the unique grief of losing his wife in childbirth and having to leave his infant son at home so soon afterward. I showed him the scars littered across my body, and explained to him how I hated my beauty.

He had taken my head in his hands and looked through my soul with those gray eyes. 

"Your beauty... It is just a fraction of you. What is truly incredible is your kind heart, your wit, your intelligence, your soul..."

I had been unable in that moment to keep myself from kissing him, so I let my mind empty and I surged forward to connect our lips. He responded with fervor, bringing me close, the pads of his thumbs barely grazing the peach fuzz on my cheek. I could not even bring myself to feel ashamed about grabbing his tunic underneath his cloak, my fingers unknowing but desperate. He had taken my hands and pulled back, only to kiss my nose, then brow, then the corners of each eyes, and then my knuckles. 

Suddenly I came too. I saw in front of me the path that had been laid for me - a wife, be it to a good man or a bad one. I was still determined not to let that happen. 

As I often did, I had fled. I had avoided him until he went back to Winterfell. Two moons later, a raven came from him. I didn't dare open it, too afraid to face my actions. Even if I felt that I knew what the contents were, Cregan was not like other men I knew - thus I had always wondered what the letter said. I wondered if it was true that he truly cared for me and saw who I was inside. The thought made me realize that even I myself did not know what path may be laid in front of me. My feelings confused me, and I decided to shut the Lord of Winterfell out of my mind forever.

Except on some dark nights. 

And except for now, when Jacaerys prods my arm and awaits the answer to his question. I realized I must have been silent for a long time as his voice began to register in my head. 

"Lost in thought?" 

"Ha-ha," I shoved him back. "Sort of." 

Jace's face became serious. "I was only jesting, but perhaps I shouldn't have brought it up. I know you truly did care for him."

"How could you tell?" I asked, genuine curiosity lacing my tone. It was past the point where it was worth feeling awkward about the truth of my feelings. I was only human, after all. 

"He was kind to everybody, but especially to you." Jace pursed his lips in thought. "Although at the same time, he does not treat you like you're soft. It was like he loved hearing you speak. Like your word was God."

I smiled. 

Jace nudged me. "And... he looked at you like you hung the damn sun in the sky."

My heart skipped a beat hearing that. I knew it was true, but I was used to people looking at me in awe. As if I were a ball of light floating in front of them, ethereal, untouchable. Cregan was not afraid to see through me, to touch me. He made me feel held.

Emotion overcame me in that moment. I quickly scrambled up from the bag of grain Jace and I were lounging on, grasping my sword and tossing my hair over my shoulder. 

"Well, it's too late now," I quickly said, "He's in Winterfell and it does not matter if he cares for me or not, I do not want the life of a housewife."

Jace stood. "Who says that getting married means you'll become a housewife? You'll be a lady, you could do whatever you please." 

"It isn't just the marriage, it's the principle of it!" I cried, moving away from him towards the main training yard. "As soon as I take those vows, it means my purpose is only to bear children." As we entered the larger courtyard and grew closer to other people, he grasped my arm and spoke to me in a lowered voice. 

"I know you think I do not understand, but I am soon to be betrothed as well, likely to someone I will never love."

"Well, at the end of the line, you have a throne." I spit at him, spinning on my heel and leaving him staring helplessly after me. 

[sarahisslytherin]

on the kingsroad.

cregan stark x reader

summary: you try not to let your feelings for lord stark show as you travel to king's landing together.

contains: forced proximity, fluff.

a/n: there was only one bed!!

word count: 1.2k

You struggled to keep your heavy eyes open as your mare clopped down the dirt road. You trotted alongside Cregan, whose gaze was now fixed on the inn that grew closer with each passing moment. “Almost there, my Lady.” The young lord of Winterfell addressed you gently. He was as weary as you were, and longed just as much for the warmth of a bed. You tugged feebly on the fur lining your cloak as you neared the inn. It had been a few days on the Kingsroad in the company of Cregan Stark. 

You both had business to attend to down in King’s Landing and the noble lord deemed it necessary that you be accompanied. Though you were merely a lady of his court, you had never been able to deny the part of you that longed for something more than polite manners from Cregan. The look in his icy blue eyes as he strode down the halls of Winterfell had put you in a trance more times than you cared to admit. Equally culpable for this were the stolen glances during feasts, the electricity you felt at his touch when he would help you out of a carriage. These small moments provided you with enough warmth to survive the longest of winters. 

Soon enough, you were at the inn’s doors. Cregan dismounted first before aiding you as you did the same, his strong, leather-covered hands holding your weight as your boots hit the snowy ground. You thanked him for the help as he led the way inside. The innkeeper marveled at the sight of him. Tall, wide, commanding; a young wolf.

“Forgive me, Lord Stark.” the man stuttered. “But there are simply not enough rooms left to accommodate both yourself and the young lady.” At this, Cregan looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze. Something in your expression must have given away that you didn’t mind sharing chambers for the night, because he swiftly turned to the innkeeper and paid for the remaining room.

You tried to suppress the churning feeling in your stomach at the thought of such proximity to Cregan, thankful you could blame the pink hue of your cheeks on the biting northern cold. You followed Cregan up the stairs, the wooden boards creaking under his steps. The hallway was lit by torches, the warm light leading you to your chambers. “After you.” Cregan bowed his head ever so slightly as you stepped into the room, the stone and wooden walls encapsulating the heat from the fireplace. 

“Gods, how I’ve longed for the comfort of a bed.” you chuckled as you shrugged off your furs, leaving you in your gown. You felt Cregan’s heavy gaze as you undid your simple braid and let your hair cascade down your shoulders. “You must know your company has been a great comfort to me, Lord Stark.” you confessed, offering him a sheepish smile as your eyes met his. He too was in the process of removing his cloak, his thinner garments capturing your attention more than could be deemed fitting of a proper young lady. 

“I am glad to hear it. I must admit that when I heard you would be traveling to the capital on your own, I couldn’t help but worry for your safety. I shall stay close to you at King’s Landing as well. It is truly a viper’s nest, no place for an innocent lady.”

“My Lord, you underestimate me.” you smirked as you stood up from your place by the crackling fire. “Surely the vicious men of King’s Landing cannot be much worse than the brutes back home.”

Cregan laughed at that, a good hearty laugh. “Is your opinion of Northmen truly so low?”

You felt heat begin to creep into your face once again. “I- I meant no offense, my Lord. The men I speak of are nothing like you.” You were too nervous to be sure, but you were quite certain it was a look of amusement now on Cregan’s face.

“Are they not? I am a man of the North, born and raised. What could possibly save me from your damning opinion?” he teased, but you sensed he truly wished to hear the answer.

“Well,” you sighed as you fiddled with tendrils of your hair, “They are not nearly as handsome, and not one of them has ever made me laugh the way your jests have. And they are unkind, inhumane. They regard me as no more than an object, something to be enjoyed as one enjoys a feast. But you-” you cut yourself off, looking up to meet Cregan’s gaze. The look in his eyes was soft, hopeful even. 

“But I?” he insisted.

“But you are kind. Not only to me, but to your people. You are a rare man of honor, true honor. A man I feel safe with.” you finally said. If Cregan was moved by your confession he tried his best not to show it, his gaze fixed on the ground as if lost in thought. You decided to make yourself busy with the fur covers on the bed. Cregan stood up to help. 

“My Lady, please have the bed.” he said, his voice scratchy from the cool winter air. “I will arrange my furs on the floor.” Your eyes widened at that, your hand reaching up to clutch your heart incredulously.

“Nonsense, I cannot allow you to sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly fine bed large enough for the two of us!” 

Cregan made an effort to suppress his smile, but it was not enough. “Are you absolutely sure? I only wish for you to be comfortable.” he insisted.

“Certainly.” you assured him, allowing your hand to rest gently on his chest. You tried not to focus on the beat of his heart beneath your icy palm. He wasted no time in taking it in his own hands and bringing it to his lips, the gesture awakening butterflies in your stomach. 

You gently stepped away to your side of the bed, slipping in and doing your best to stay on the edge of the bed. You felt the mattress dip where Cregan did the same on the other end. You ensured you were both back to back with room to spare between you. You tried to drown out the thoughts you were having about the Lord of Winterfell as you drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until the first rays of dawn began to pour into the chambers that your eyes began to flutter. You were so accustomed to sleeping alone, you didn’t know what to make of the presence you sensed so close to you. Only then did the memories of last night come back to you, and you looked down to your abdomen to find Cregan Stark’s large paw of a hand resting there. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of his breath hit the back of your neck. He had pulled you flush against him in his sleep, and it seemed you had done little in protest. The butterflies in your stomach returned as you let your eyes close again and leaned into Lord Stark’s embrace, impatient to continue your journey on the Kingsroad.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kindgomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever

[justanoasisimagines]

Blurb #1

Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

Cregan searched through the crowds, weaving through people, and exchanging rushed pleasantries. Eyes scanning through the crowd attempting to locate you.

Where were you? He'd searched everywhere. The castle, the God'swood, even the market and yet you were no one where to be seen. Cregan had questioned several people and yet no one seemed to know where you were.

Cregan ran his hand through his hair; rattling his mind for any more locations. You had to be somewhere, you couldn't have gone far. Turning his head to the left, Cregan's mind sparked. The stables.

With a quickened pace, Cregan walked in that direction. A sigh of relief when he witnessed you taking care of one of the horses.

"There you are love. I've been searching everywhere for you." Cregan's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The tension in his shoulders slowly released as he rested his chin on top of your head.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I simply got bored of the patchwork I was working on," you replied.

Cregan scoffed. "I was not scared. I was merely concerned for your well-being that's all."

"Then why are your palms sweating?" Cregan created enough space so he could examine your face.

"I've been searching Winterfell for you woman, of course, I'm going to sweat." Cregan saw the disbelief in your eyes, alongside the subtle hint of mischief, but you didn't press him about it.

"Now come inside, let's get you warm, so you don't catch a cold." Cregan was prepared for an argument, yet nothing came much to his surprise. With his mind made up, Cregan knew he was going to build you a stable. Somewhere closer to the castle, with your own horses.

He'd gladly build you a stables inside; if he believed you would allow him.

[skyrigel]

“Fire on Fire”

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister!reader

Benjicot blackwood masterlist

˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑ You are betrothed to Cregan Stark and it's your wedding day, but your brother wants to give you a wedding gift, somthing lovely — something you carry with you and what's better than a child.

˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑ Targcest, incest, justifying infidelity( not married yet but still ) also be read as twin!reader, kissing and making out, suggestive themes so 18+ rated, pouty and cute Aemond, some jealousy and possesivness, choking ( blink and miss), mentions of hickey. [ Wc: 2k ]

Reblogs and thoughts are always welcome <3 credits to @cafekitsune for text dividor and title from Sam Smith song, “fire on fire”

“Mother, I want to see Aemond.” You saw your reflection in the mirror, the gown was adored with scales and a cloak of fur, a close resemblance to your marriage to Cregan Stark.

“I would see that.” She rubbed her hands on your shoulder, leaning to kiss your head.

“You're the most beautiful bride.”

You tried to smile through your misery.

“Haelena is the most beautiful bride.” You raised your chin, she sniffed through her tears, her throat constricted with words she never managed to say.

“You are doing great, child.” She said, and that was all.

~~~

Everything was getting on your nerves or it was just how wedding days were supposed to be, your skin itched with the furs that tickled your collar bones.

“Martha...fix it.” You tisked when someone moved behind you, it was only a moment before you knew him by scent alone, the way his feet struck the earth.

“Aemond ! ” You jumped back at him and he straightened up like he wasn't just about to ‘boo’ you.

“How did you know ? ” He said, sitting next to you and plucking the furry fabric out that got folded while wearing, releasing you from your torment, like he always did.

“Because I know you.” you told him, sucking in a breath as his finger traced your collar bone, cold against your skin.

“Yes, you do.” He smiled, his jaw hard and eyes glinting like sapphire in moonlight.

You looked away, feeling your insides clench in a sensation that aroused you very much lately.

“I was waiting for you, where were you ?” You said instead, showing forward the bracelet mother gave you with Targaryen sigil, green diamonds circling it's frame.

“Very beautiful.” He brought your hand to his mouth, kissing each knuckle tenderly, looking up and stealing glances from you every time.

“I was actually thinking about your wedding present.” He whispered it low, his voice deep and you frowned, “For me ? ”

He cocked his eyebrow, ofcourse he wasn't going to give Cregan Stark a wedding gift because now that would be ridiculous — He hated Cregan the day your match with him was announced, his loathing only blazed by each day that passed by.

“Ofcourse you, sister.” His mouth tugged at corners, he was admiring you, not surprised because you were always so beautiful, there was this very sad ache in his eyes.

“Then give it to me.” you chirped at him, eyes going wide with the way Aemond flushed.

“I wanted it to be—” He drew closer to you, taking your chin in his hand, “—something you could remember me by.”

You could faint at the intensity, sure Aemond's touch was fire but for the very first time you saw yourself bursting into ashes.

“I wouldn't forget you.” You swallowed, he traced the side of your face, halting at your lips and continued admiring you.

“Shhh.” Aemond hushed, his gaze dropping to your lips as his thumb smeared across your rose tint.

“Something you can carry with you... something that would remind you of me, always.” He whispered, face leaning down and down until his nose was touching yours.

“You will always love me, won't you sister ? ”

He asked it so tenderly, so sweetly that your heart ached, how would you live in the north, despite all the wonders Cregan told you about, it would always be less endearing, less lovely, less yours without him.

“Always, Aemond.” You smiled as his lips pressed on the corner of your mouth, his hands cupping your face and then he pulled back, too soon.

“What happened ? ” You asked him, startled, Aemond grabbed your wrist and brought it to the back of his head and you understood what, you giggled softly, removing his eye patch.

“God, i would miss you so much Aem.” You ran a hand through his hair, soft and silky as you touched them.

“Really ? ” He asked, tilting his head sideways and you nodded, smiling your brightest.

“Very much.” You told him, Aemond took your hand, urging you to follow so you did.

Aemond pulled you towards the mirror, resting his face on your shoulder as he stood behind you, your joined hands crossing your heart.

He teased the crook of your neck with his nose, making you laugh at his mischiefs.

A pause.

“Do you love Cregan ? ”

You looked unsettled at the question, almost shooting him a glare, why would he ask that ?

“I...a wife should love his husband.” You laughed, it was hollow and Aemond's mouth curted.

“That's not what I asked, Do you love him ? ”

“I would happen to.” you would right ? Someday you will happen to love your husband, Haelena and mother and every one does, wouldn't you do just the same ?

You looked away from the reality that was staring back at you, the future that awaited you, duty towards your family.

“Do you love me ? ”

“Yes, I love you.” You said, in a heartbeat, turning back to him and watching how his smile faded to desire.

“I love you so much.” He cupped your face, eyes softening as he pulled you closer to him, grabbing you by your hips and that was okay, He's your brother, half your soul.

“You were telling me about your gift.” You gasped a little, his whole body was pressed against you, heating up.

“I was.” He caressed you, his touch sipping through your bones, mouth clamped, you liked his mouth—soft, warm and sweet, and the way he spoke to you, like honey dripping from his to tongue, your brother, your soul.

“What is it ? ”

“Close you eyes.” He hummed, side glancing at your reflections, so perfect together.

“Okay.” you closed them, He tutted, and you stiffled the smile, finally closing them perfectly blind.

“Good Little bird.”

And your smile was claimed by him, his soft sweet mouth pressing against yours, in slow music that echoed through your body.

“Oh—” You snapped open your eyes, pulling back and touching your lips where his were just few moments ago, his warmth lingering like a tattooed kiss.

“Sister—” He started but you were already kissing him again, pulling him to you by the back of his neck and he was just a starving man.

His mouth was every bit honey that he spoke of, lovely as he was to you, his sweetness melting on your tongue and you were breathless with the way he kissed you.

“I love you.” He muttered breathlessly on the your lips, pulling you to embrace him completely and divinely.

You heard his heartbeats, the heart that grew along with you, with same womb nourishing your veins and plumbing your chambers.

“Aemond, we..we can't..” you saw no reason why you can't, perhaps if times were different it could have been Aemond waiting on the altar for you, a dream so beautiful.

“Do you want me to stop ? ” He was placing soft kisses at the side of your face, keeping his hands off the furs of your gown and instead wrapping around your waist line.

“No.”

He smiled, taking you by your shoulder and helping you sit on your bed, where he had snuggled in countless times, when he couldn't sleep, when he lost his eye and cried with the one that was left, and that one time when he came buzzing after Vhagar chose him, that night you were both looking at the ceiling as if there were stars— but then again, everything was beautiful with him.

Aemond smiled wickedly the way you were glowing crimson, a bride was usually blushing but for their husband-to-be, your hands fisted the silk sheets when his tongue started to work his magic in your mouth.

It wasn't a sin, it wasn't infidelity or cheating, Aemond and you soul were connected and for seven heaven's sake —just the same.

The way he smiled and your heart bloomed, the way he talked and you felt heard, and all those ways he completed you.

“He can never love you like me...” He tore away the fur cloak, kissing your bare skin in a wave of heat.

“Aemond—” But he was far too gone.

His hands were everywhere, grasping your throat and driving your wild with the way he nibbed at your collar bone.

“Aemond...oh dear...” You let your head bliss back into time and space, heart too heavy so you let go.

“I am marking you mine sister.” Aemond purred beside you, his breath teasing the newly purplish mark and you gasped at the angry brusie forming on your neck.

“ Oh god, oh fuck— what have you done ? ”

Aemond smiled, following your gaze in the mirror and basking in his brilliance work, his mouth curved in a smirky pout.

“Cregan can't know Aem ! ” You glared at him, north wasn't common to incest.

“So are you going to make love with him ? ” He turned back to you, almost bored, “ Is that how you love me ? ”

Your face brunt red, aching with the your lips throbbed at the swolleness, you tried to speak but no words came out.

“He'll consummate the marriage someday.” You said, tears spilling through the edges, face crumbling under the sadness of being parted with him.

“ Oh no, sweet love.” He shushed away, standing beside you and pulling your head to his chest, kissing your braided hair softly.

“I just can't see you with him...with anyone who's not me...yes I am jealous but—” His voice broke, “ I want you to know that your heart is mine sister, that your soul belongs to me and mine belongs to you.”

You sniffed as his words hanged heavy in air, his soft sweet nothings were soothing the pain that swirled in your chest.

“ You'll have to sleep with him.” He said, “there's no other choice.”

Aemond then tipped a finger under your chin, raising your face to him — He shaked his head at the tears that ran down the side of your cheek and smeared them away with the pad of his thumb.

“ But you'll have a choice to love, will you make love with me sister ? ”

A small smile broke between the grief and he kissed you down, massaging the back of your neck.

“I will give you something you can always take with you, something small and lovely.”

You looked at the glint in his eye, the same when he was about to do something awfully stupid or brave.

“And what could be better than our child my lovely sister.”

And whatever souls were made of, his and yours were just the same.

A beat, a pause — the mist cleared and you can see him and you, tangled with bodies and soul, with each other's blood and breath lingering like one soul two bodies.

“I want our child to have your eyes.” you blushed, the way Aemond smiled was worth every star.

~~~

“Do you take this man ? ” Aegon asked, you looked at Cregan, he was almost smiling in his big furry cloak and wolfish-ness.

Your eyes flickered to Aemond who was standing by Alicent — your mother was sniffing with her eyes beaming at the sight.

He was looking at you, a smile crossed his lips, a small nod that anyone would've missed but not you, you would know him anywhere.

“ Yes.”

You would take this man, again and again—over and over, after all he's half your soul as the poets said.

Navigation

[xx-dinah-writing-xx]

Pierced Nipples

Tom Taylor x reader

Suggestive

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.

[korkiekenobiconfirmed]

hilarious and severely underutilized jacegan modern au dynamic is when jace starts out the fic like "ooh perhaps a night of casual fun with Mr. Emotionally Unavailable?" but then by the end it's not-so-casual and he's fully acquired an entire toddler son

[lunafreya24]

Modern au: When the Storm Breaks

Pairings: Jacaerys Targaryen/Cregan Stark, Rhaenyra Targaryen/Harwin Strong, Rhaenys Targaryen/Corlys Velaryon

Cregan and Jace have been married for a couple years when tragedy strikes. Jace's brother, Luke, is killed in a car accident. From the moment they got the news, Jace barely cries. He buries himself into being strong for his family and planning Luke's funeral. Cregan stays by his side the whole time, trying his best to help. Everyone is worried Jace is carrying too much on his shoulders and that he's going to explode soon. Their fears become reality when Jace has a full-blown mental breakdown at the funeral. Jace's family and his husband rally around him. Afterwards he apologizes for making a scene. Everyone tells him that he has every right to upset and that he doesn't have to be strong all the time.

(cw: character death, graphic language, grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms)

Notes: This takes place in modern day New York. Rhaenyra and Harwin are married. Aegon III and Viserys II are Harwin's sons, but they get their looks from Rhaenyra. All the age gaps are closed in this story. Cregan and Jace are the same age, Rhaenyra and Harwin are only like 3 or 4 years apart. Laena is Rhaenyra's best friend here not Alicent, because I didn't want to touch that situation. Helaena is the only green that makes an appearance because I love her. Laenor and Daemon also aren't mentioned in this story. Do with that what you will.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacaerys Targaryen and Cregan Stark had built a life together that was rooted in love, trust, and mutual support. They met in college, when Jace was getting his MBA and Cregan was getting a bachelor’s degree in architecture. Until then, neither of them had believed in love at first sight, but in that moment, love was the only thing that came to mind. They dated all throughout college, receiving their respective degrees with honors. Jace’s parents, Rhaenyra and Harwin, threw a grand graduation party at their home. However, Jace was the only one unaware that this party was also an engagement party. Once everyone important to them had arrived, Cregan got down on one knee and asked Jace to make him the happiest man in the world. Jace accepted with tears in his eyes. Their wedding was a sight to behold, a perfect blend of extravagance and sentiment. They vowed to be there for each other for every moment of their lives, no matter how painful. After four years of marriage, they had faced their share of challenges, but none had been as shattering as the phone call that came one quiet evening.

Jace was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, while Cregan relaxed on the couch, engrossed in a book. The shrill ring of Jace's phone broke the silence. It was from Baela, Jace's favorite cousin. Jace and Baela were very close, but they hadn’t spoken in a while, feeling they didn’t have much to share with each other. When she called out of nowhere, Jace thought she had something exciting to tell him. 

“Hey Baela, how are you?” He answered cheerfully. 

“Hi Jace.” Baela said, her voice shaking, barely above whisper.

“Is everything okay?” There was silence on the other end. 

Cregan could sense the tension and looked from his book. “Who’s that baby?”

Jace moved the food off the stove and walked over. “It’s Baela,” he whispered. 

“Is that Cregan?” She asked in an abrupt manner.

“Yeah.” Jace said.

“Can you put the phone on speaker, you both need to hear this.”

Jace did as he was asked, placing his phone on the coffee table, “Okay, Baela what going on, you’re kind of scaring me now.” 

Baela took a deep breath before continuing, "Jace, it's about Luke.” 

“What about Luke?” Jace asked, fear washing over him. 

They could hear Baela start to cry on the other end, “There…There’s been….. an accident. I’m so sorry Jace. He's... he's gone."

Jace’s breath hitched. He and his husband sat there frozen, Baela’s soft cries coming from below them. 

“What? What happened?” Jace questioned. The room seemed to close in around them as the reality of the situation sunk in.

“He… he was driving home for a visit when .... a truck sideswiped him. He hit a wall and…. first responders couldn’t get to him in time.” 

Jace could hear Baela talking to them. He could feel his husband grab his hand. But all of that seemed to fade away with the thoughts whirling through his mind. 

"I'm so sorry, Jace," Cregan whispered, his heart aching for his husband.

Jace sat frozen once again, his eyes were unfocused. He didn't cry, didn't scream. He just nodded and took a deep breath. 

"What about my parents? Do they know yet?"

“We’re at their house right now. My mom was with yours when she got the call. They didn’t know how to tell you so I offered to do it. They’re…. heartbroken, but we’re here to help them.”

“Thank you.” Jace muttered.

“That goes for you too, if you need anything, please come to us Jace.”

“Okay. Goodbye Baela.”

“Bye.” 

Crega pulled Jace into a tight hold. “I’m so sorry baby.” He offered. But Jace shifted in his arms, pulling back. He looked as if he were in some sort of trance. 

“I need to get home.” He announced. “My family needs me.” 

The days that followed were a blur of grief and responsibility. From the moment they got the news, Jace seemed to switch into autopilot. He threw himself into planning Luke's funeral, his focus solely on being the pillar of strength his family needed. He promised his parents that they didn’t have to worry about anything while he was there. He coordinated with funeral directors, arranged flowers, and meticulously chose every detail, ensuring that his brother would be honored in the best way possible.

Cregan watched his husband with growing concern. Jace was handling everything with a stoic determination that bordered on obsessiveness. He knew Jace was hurting, but he seemed unwilling or unable to express his grief. Every time Cregan tried to talk to him about it, Jace would deflect, insisting that there was too much to do.

"Jace, honey, you need to slow down and let yourself grieve, let yourself feel something," Cregan urged one evening, gently touching his arm. "It's okay to cry, to be upset."

Jace shook his head, his expression resolute. "I don't have time for that, Cregan. My family needs me." That phrase had become Jace’s mantra over the last week. At night, he would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, while Cregan held him, hoping that the physical closeness would provide some sort of comfort.

Jace's family was just as worried. At first, Rhaenyra was eternally grateful for her son's strength at this terrible time. But she quickly realized what was happening to her son, her whole body flooded with guilt. She and Harwin both expressed their concerns to Cregan privately. "He's carrying too much," Rhaenyra said one evening, her voice thick with worry. "I'm afraid he's going to break."

The day of the funeral arrived, a gray, overcast morning that seemed to mirror the heavy hearts of all who gathered. Jace was impeccably dressed in a black suit, his expression set in a mask of calm control. Cregan stood by his side, offering silent support.

The service was beautiful and heart-wrenching. Friends and family spoke of Luke's kindness, his bright smile, and the joy he brought to their lives. Jace delivered the eulogy with a steady voice, recounting fond memories and expressing the depth of his love for his younger brother. When he finished, sobs and sniffles could be heard throughout the whole church, but Jace’s face still didn’t falter. 

As the service drew to a close, Jace stood by the casket, greeting mourners and accepting their condolences. He was the picture of strength and composure, but Cregan could see the cracks beneath the surface. Each handshake, each hug seemed to chip away at the veneer of control Jace had built around himself.

When everyone proceeded to the burial site, Luke's body was placed over the area where it would be buried and lay forever. As the priest gave final blessing, Jace’s frame stiffened, his breaths shallowed slightly. Cregan was at his side, sensing the shift. He grabbed his husband's hand and started rubbing small circles on his back. He had seen this coming from the beginning. He only hoped now that he could soften the blow, if only a little bit. 

It was during the final moments of the burial, as the casket was lowered into the ground, that the storm finally broke. Jace stared at the graveside, the finality of it all crashing down on him. His breathing quickened even more, and he felt a tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe.

“No.” Jace shook his head, pleading with every higher power he could think of. “Please, no!” he whimpered, not caring about what people thought about him. The pressure inside him had built up to an unbearable level. "I can't... I can't do this," he gasped, his voice breaking. "He's gone, Cregan! No....please! He can’t be gone!"

The tears finally came then, a torrent of grief and anguish that he had held back for far too long. He lurched forward, falling to the ground, sobs wracking his body. Cregan knelt beside him, wrapping his arms around Jace, holding him as he wailed. 

The mourners looked on with a mix of sympathy and understanding. Rhaenys and Corlys took it upon themselves to start herding the funeral guests toward the reception, knowing the best thing for the family was to be alone with each other right now. Rhaenyra and Harwin rushed to Jace's side, their own tears falling freely as they tried to comfort their son. For the first time since the accident, Jace allowed himself to truly feel the depth of his loss. Jace clung to Cregan, his cries growing softer, his screams turning into broken whispers, “Come back…. Luke I’m sorry…. Please come back.” 

The four of them sat like that for a while. Everyone else had gone, Laena had taken Jace’s other brothers to the reception, giving them time to just worry about Jace. Thirty minutes felt like a lifetime. Jace felt like he had cried away all the tears he had left, a terrible headache was brewing in the back of his skull. He picked up his head and looked around, realizing they were alone. “We should go to the reception now. They’re probably waiting for us.” He groaned, rubbing his burning eyes. 

Rhaenyra cupped her son's face gently, "Jace, you don't have to go. Everyone will understand."

Harwin nodded in agreement, "We're all hurting, son. And you’ve already done so much. If you just want to go home, it’s alright.” 

Jace looked to his husband for the answer. Cregan looked at him lovingly, saying, “I’ll do whatever you want, baby.” 

Jace thought for a moment, “I think we should go.” He decided.

“Are you sure?” Cregan asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

The reception was a blur for Jace. He felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Many people came to him again, offering even more condolences and asking if he was alright. He assured everyone that he was feeling much better now, but the ache in his heart and the pounding in his head were creeping up on him again. He wondered why he even bothered coming. Just then Helaena came up to him with a gentle smile.  

“Hi Jace.” She spoke softly

“Hi Helaena.” 

She looked at him as if she was trying to speak a language she didn’t know. She quickly gave up on words and held her arms out to him. He took them gratefully. After a full day of words and tears, her silent comfort somehow surpassed it all. Helaena often struggled with words, but in her touch was a power no one else in that room possessed. In that moment, Jace felt all of his pain melt away. For a split second, he felt whole again. He felt the one thing that had been missing since Baela called him that night, hope. They stayed like that for a little while. Jace breathed in her soothing herbal scent, finally feeling a sense of healing take fold. 

“Thank you so much Helaena.”

“For what”

“For being exactly what I need right now.”

Helaena smiled kindly and then left. Eventually everyone cleared out, leaving just the family. As they sat on the couch together, Jace struggled to come to terms with his outburst at the funeral. In hindsight, he felt embarrassed and ashamed for breaking down in front of everyone. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "I didn't mean to make a scene."

Rhaenyra held him in her arms, her eyes filled with compassion. "Jace, you have nothing to apologize for. You lost your brother, not even a month ago. You have every right to grieve. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I never should have let you take on all that by yourself."

Harwin nodded in agreement. "Neither of us should have, Jace. We're a family, and we should support each other. You don't always have to be strong for everyone."

Cregan held his hand, his voice gentle but firm. "You've been carrying so much, sweetheart. It's time to let others carry some of that weight with you. We're all here for you now." He pressed a feather-light kiss to Jace’s temple. 

Jace looked around at his family, seeing the love and support in their eyes. He realized then that he didn't have to bear his grief alone. He didn't have to be the pillar of strength all the time. It was okay to lean on those who loved him. He felt tears come to his eyes again, but this time he let them flow freely. He grabbed on to his mother’s waist and cried slow, soft tears. Rhaenyra did the same until they both fell asleep in that position, their pain and exhaustion finally ceasing for the time being. 

Harwin and Cregan shared a knowing look before carefully unraveling the two and picking them up bridal style. Harwin couldn’t help but smile as he remembered the last time he held his wife this way. She had gotten too tipsy at a party and passed out in the car on the ride home. They were so young then, before the children, before their lives had truly begun. 

Cregan thought about the last time he held his husband this way. They had just gotten married. Jace was about to open the door to their apartment, when Cregan scooped him up and carried him across the threshold. It was a silly moment filled with laughter and so much love. They were still young, but Cregan knew from the moment they met, that he was going to spend the rest of his time on Earth and then some with the man sleeping in his arms. 

They carried their spouses up the stairs and laid them down on their respective beds. With the softest touch they remove as much of their uncomfortable funeral attire as they could before laying down next to them. They knew in the morning the pain would hit all over again, but for now they enjoyed this moment of peace in the eye of the storm. 

[theothermaidoftarth]

World on Fire

Chapter 1 (of 3)

M/16+ | Nettles x Cregan Stark

Full list of cw on ao3

Excerpt:

One of the Northmen closest to her breaks her concentration, hefting a broad two-headed axe with ease in his large hand. “What was that!”

She leaves the cocoon of the roots to stand before the man, her back to where Sheepstealer shall appear. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” He’d take it as a threat to her, since she can’t turn him away.

The grizzled old lord scowls at Nettles speaking to him as if he were a boy reaching out to touch a hot pot. “And who are you?”

She circles closer slowly, near enough so his horse sidles away from her, away from the smell of dragon. For every step forward she takes, the horse trots back. A wicked amusement tickles her at the flash of unease upon the rider’s craggly face. Such a rush this power is, potent as mead on an empty stomach. And her stomach has been empty more oft than not. “You ain’t heard o’ me?” She locks eyes with the quiet lord she can now see wears a pale cloak trimmed with grey. Ah, of course. He is still; watchful… Almost as if — “He knows who I am.” She tips her head to him in ironic imitation of a bow. “Lord Stark.” This had not been how Nettles planned on making the Lord of Winterfell’s acquaintance but the gods did so laugh at the plans of mortals. She might as well laugh with them.

Read on ao3

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[jacaeryslover]

hello, this is for my next (and first) fanfic that i will upload on my wattpad, but im still unsure about the main love interest...

[moonlightrafe]

Out Of The Woods

summary: The war is over and Rhaenyra’s daughter gets a fresh start in The North.

pairing: Cregan x Targaryen!Reader

word count: 842

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, grief, RIP Jace <\3

note: Sooo……. It appears that I’m in Cregan Simp Mode

It is a brighter day than usual when your labors start. The sun even begins to peak behind the clouds, casting a gorgeous gleam over Winterfell. It has been six months since the civil war between your family has ended and it seems as though the smoke-like grief that clouds your mind is finally beginning to clear. After all of your pain and suffering, you are now far away from Dragonstone and even farther away from King’s Landing. As your younger brother sits the Iron Throne, you have a hope for a peaceful realm. As well as hope that you and Cregan will finally be able to start anew.

Things are different in Winterfell, especially now that the dance has ended. There is no pressure for your babe to have silver hair or violet eyes. No pressure for it to be born with a cock. All that matters is that the babe is healthy. Your child will not suffer the same hardships as you and your siblings once did.

You can hear heavy footsteps outside of the chamber as Cregan paces restlessly. While you endure another hour of labor, you try to keep your mind elsewhere. Your gaze is fixed on the flicker of the candle that sits in the chandelier above your head.

One of your earlier memories is your mother being in labor with Joffrey. You remember wincing at her screams and placing judgement on the names she called her midwives. Now you don’t blame her. You even admire her for going through this so many times. You miss her terribly.

Your hand grips tightly onto the wooden headboard as you try your hardest to listen to the instructions of your midwife.

“Push into the pain,” she advises you, “when the pain is at its worst, that’s when you will want to push the hardest, my lady.”

Your knees are at your chest, a thin layer of sweat covers your entire body, and your once white nightgown is now stained red. You inhale deeply as you brace yourself for another painful contraction.

And just like that, it’s happening again. It begins as a dull ache in your spine that eventually overtakes you completely. It feels as if you were being torn to shreds. Your muscles begin to spasm and each wave of pain is worse than the last.

A particularly loud scream echoes out into the hallway and it has Cregan bursting through the door into the room, his auburn brows furrowed.

“This is not the place for men, my Lord,” your midwife sternly warns him.

“I do not care! What’s happened?”

“Nothing!” you bark at him, your teeth gritted. This is a pain he is unable to comprehend.

“I’m fine, we’re fine. It just hurts. That’s all.”

Cregan frowns at you as he comes to stand at your side.

“My lord—” your midwife tries to interject once again.

“I’m staying.”

He keeps true to his word and remains at your side for the rest of your labor, despite your midwife’s wishes — earning him many dirty looks.

Another painful contraction comes and the pain is mind blowing. But it seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel. You bring your chin down to your chest and push with all of your might. You push as if your life depends on it, because it does.

“That’s it, my lady! Perfect. I can see the babe already, a full head of hair,” she states.

Just when you swear you cannot push anymore, you feel sudden relief and loud cries fill the room.

“It’s a boy,” your midwife declares, and Cregan squeezes onto your hand tightly.

“And he is one healthy pup! With quite the set of lungs!” she adds.

About an hour later, once you are moved from the birthing bed and all cleaned up, you sit in your large bed that you and Cregan share. Your babe is cozily bundled up and suckling at your breast, his tiny gums gnawing at your flesh.

“Do we have a name for him?” Cregan asks you as he comes to take solace beside you, peering down at the tiny babe.

“I’m not quite sure yet,” you reply, your mind still hazy, your heart full, “did you have something in mind?”

“I was thinking… he holds a striking resemblance to your brother. What do you think?”

You glance down at your newborn son. An angelic face matched with tiny wisps of dark hair that threaten to grow into a thick head of curls.

“Oh,” you coo, “yeah… yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”

Cregan smiles widely at you, in a way that makes your heart want to burst right out of your chest.

You and Cregan both held great love for Jacaerys. It was something you bonded over when you were first getting to know one another. After spending so much time with him at the beginning of the dance, Cregan began to care for Jace as if he was a brother of his own.

“So it’s settled then,” he states with pride, “we’ll call him Jacaerys.”

“Jacaerys,” you breathe out in agreement as your husband places as gentle kiss on your forehead.

[gtgbabie0]

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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[sarahisslytherin]

duty and honor.

cregan stark x tyrell!reader

summary: it has been decided. you are to wed the young lord stark. you know little of him or the north but will do your duty. this, however, does not release you from your worry of how the union will go or how you will settle into your role as lady of winterfell. luckily, cregan takes it upon himself to make you feel at home.

contains: fluff, people rooting for a bedding ceremony.

a/n: i am so in love with this man i need to be restrained.

word count: 2k

The carriage rocked on the road to Winterfell, your ocean blue gown ruffling as it did. You tried your best to ignore the wild beat of your heart in your chest, tried focusing instead on the growing pines that passed your window with increasing speed. Your mother sat at your side, a stoic presence that soothed you somehow. You took her hand in your own, and when she looked at you you didn’t have it in you to mask your utter fear. 

“You will be alright, child.” she sighed, bringing that same hand up to cup your cheek. “Lord Stark is a good man. I know you will be far from all that you know, but surely you will grow to love your new home as well as your betrothed.”

When you finally came to a halt outside its gates, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. You clutched your mother’s hand like a frightened babe when they drew open. The courtyard was full of expectant faces you knew you would eventually commit to memory. The townspeople were out and about, young rosy-cheeked girls squealing with delight as they spotted your carriage. Their soon-to-be Lady was within it, and you could only hope when the time came that you would not fall short of their expectations. They watched keenly as you stopped before them one final time, and you prepared to be devoured by hungry, prying eyes. You tugged on the fur lining of your cloak as your mother stepped down from the carriage. You quickly followed suit.

Indeed, you could feel their glares cutting clean through you. You had known enough ladies and lords to know they were searching for faults and virtues to remark upon as soon as you were out of earshot, but there were so many faces you could not focus on a single one. 

Instead your gaze swiftly fell upon the mountain of a man that was the young Lord Stark. His chestnut locks fell in such a manner that they delicately framed a rather rugged face, on which a scowl seemed to be permanently etched. But this was to be expected. It was common knowledge that smiles were rare amongst Northmen. Though winter was still months away, he was already cloaked head to toe in furs, an uncommonly large sword strapped across the broad expanse of his back. 

“Lady Y/N, welcome to Winterfell.” he rasped, his voice quite gravelly and masculine for so young a man. You offered him a small curtsy in return, but couldn’t quite muster up the agreeable smile your mother had asked you to perfect on the way here. You tried your best not to gawk as you took in the ancient castle, trailing behind Lord Stark as he strode through Winterfell’s stony halls. The biting cold of the north left your bones as you approached the hearth in the Great Hall. 

You listened as your mother exchanged pleasantries with members of Lord Stark’s court, though your eyes did not leave the dancing flames and glowing embers.

“You’re a long way from Highgarden.” he said as he came to stand beside you. His accent was harsh, the vowels flat and words clipped, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it somewhat pleasant to your ear.

You turned to regard him. Gods, he was beautiful. The fire cast his features in a golden hue, the color returning to his cheeks. He was a sight to behold, powerful and perhaps even fearsome, but in this moment so soft. You wondered what your future with him would look like. Would he take a liking to you? Would he hate you? When you eventually gave him children, would they take after their mother or father? Would it be a life worth living?

“Yes, my Lord.” you sighed, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. “A long way indeed.”

The muted ivory of your gown made you appear one with the snow of the Godswood. Your hair was unbound, save for the intricate braiding around the crown of your head. Only the moon’s and torches’ light showed you the way to the weirwood tree. Your father swiftly came to your side, looping your arm in his. He offered you a gentle caress along your icy cheek, a solemn look about his face as if watching a spring rose being sacrificed to the unforgiving cold of winter. Wordlessly, you began to walk.

Despite the North’s fame for brutal winters and even more brutal people, you couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet beauty of the Godswood. So still was it, that you could have sworn you felt its ancientness in your bones, could feel every ring of age around each tree stump. Snowflakes danced on their way down, coming to land upon strands of your hair. It was then that you saw him before the weirwood, his lips drawn into a thin line. He was covered in dark furs and a cloak, his hands clasped behind his straightened back. 

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” The words were spoken by a family ward. 

“Y/N of the House Tyrell.” your father replied. “She comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” 

You watched as Lord Stark approached, towering over you. You hoped you would grow accustomed to it, to him. You held your breath when he spoke. “Cregan of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” 

You dared to look up, to meet his gaze. You found nothing but gentleness in them. “Who gives her?” Your father spoke his name. And now the ward asked you the question. 

“Lady Y/N, will you take this man?”

You could feel the overbearing weight of watchful eyes, of held breaths and keen ears. But Cregan’s eyes hadn’t left yours, determined to hold your gaze. You could have sworn a flicker of joy shone in them when you gasped out. 

“I take this man.”

Cregan offered you a shy curl of his lips, then took your hands in his. You noted that they were far smaller in comparison to his weathered hands as he led you to the trunk of the weirwood tree. Its face provided you with some strange comfort. Perhaps the gods would heed your prayers. Perhaps they were watching over you as you both knelt before the trunk. Silence fell upon the Godswood as the wedding party prayed. No sooner had the moment passed that you and your now husband rose to your feet. Cregan’s large hands reached around you to gingerly remove your cloak, a golden Tyrell rose embroidered upon it by your mother. 

You shivered as the cold crept into your body, but were swiftly covered once again, this time in a Stark cloak, the wolf sigil stitched boldly enough for all to see. And just like that, it was done.

It was the first time you had seen him smile, truly smile, since you had arrived at Winterfell. From where you sat at his side on the dais, the entirety of the Great Hall stretched out before you. Jovial music filled the hall, and you watched the merry faces of Cregan’s men as they helped themselves to the wedding feast. Their chatter echoed on the stone walls, and for the first time since you had left Highgarden, you felt somewhat at home.

“Has Winterfell begun to grow on you, wife?” Cregan’s husky voice came from your left. When you turned to meet him he was wearing a boyish smirk. He was playing. You didn’t suspect the Wolf of the North had it in him.

“Well, it may be a while longer before that happens.” you sheepishly admitted, struggling to hold his intense gaze. “But I know I will come to love it.”

“Aye.” he said. “I know it will never be your true home, but I promise you I will do all in my power to make it the next best thing.” He placed his large hand atop your own, taking your palm and squeezing it gingerly. You were thankful for the gesture, and couldn’t ignore the flush of your cheeks that resulted from it.

“You’re timid.” he observed, only causing you further embarrassment. “It’s quite charming.”

“You may very well be the only person who finds it to be so. Even back home my soft temper has been known to irritate others. Most times people can barely hear me when I speak. I find it easier to keep to myself and observe.” you confessed. “I truly must grow a thicker skin if I am to survive amongst the wolves.”

“You won’t survive.” Cregan stated matter of factly. You whipped your head toward him with wide eyes at that, not prepared for what he would say next. “You will thrive.”

You felt your muscles loosen up once again, offering him an incredulous laugh.

“I am perfectly serious, my Lady.” he went on. “You will rule the North at my side.”

“I hardly think I am equipped to rule such an – unruly people, my Lord.” you tried to mask the nervous tremble of your hand as you brought your wine to your lips.

“Cregan.” he rasped. “Call me Cregan.” You nodded, eyes crinkling above a smile. He leaned in, as if he were about to tell you a most precious secret. “Sometimes all a beast truly needs is the touch of a gentle hand.” 

You backed away to meet his eyes. They held nothing but truth in them. Nothing but honor. But your moment was soon ended by the clamor of the wedding party. The men began to holler, whooping and howling in unison. “Time for the bedding!”

You had anticipated this, and you now braced yourself for the unpleasant experience of being hauled to a bed with Cregan. You had always known your first time would be like this, and though you loathed the idea, you could not alter tradition. It was a surprise to you when Cregan rose from his chair, planting his large hands on the dinner table before he spoke.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but there will be no bedding ceremony tonight.” he bellowed out through the hall in a voice so commanding it was an effort not to shrink in his presence. “And I won’t hear any complaints about it. It’s too lovely an occasion to taint with a brawl.”

The men did their best to mask their disappointed groans as they returned to their dinner. You weren’t quite sure what had prompted Cregan to make such a decision. Did he not like you the way you had hoped? Perhaps he thought you fit to rule by him, to be a figurehead, but not someone he could ever desire in earnest. He must have read the emotions as they crossed your face, because he quickly took his seat beside you again. 

“Are you well, my Lady?” he asked. You merely nodded in response. He gently took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze towards his. “When you wish it to happen it will be just the two of us, husband and wife. No prying eyes or ears.”

Warmth bloomed in your heart at the words. It was as if he had quieted the growing storm in your mind with only the touch of a hand. A gentle hand.

“You are a man of honor, Cregan.” you said resolutely.

He only smiled in return as he brought you in closer, finally pressing his lips to yours. The touch sent sparks down your spine. It was in that moment you knew that spark would soon fan into a flame a thousand northern winds could not snuff out.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kingdomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever

[justanoasisimagines]

Cregan developing feelings for you

Hey, my lovelies, back with another Headcanon! I hope you enjoy it! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

❀Cregan doesn't see it coming. He's always so busy trying to be the best leader he can be. He doesn't see himself having time for any romantic pursuits.

❀It starts with Cregan discovering he finds peace in your company. He's always thinking, always trying to do what's best for Winterfell. You are the first person Cregan feels his mind quiet down around.

❀Cregan beings to seek you out. Even when he's busy, he likes to sit with you. Your company enough helps rid himself of the pressure he faces. The occasional meetings become daily as he seeks you out.

❀Cregan begins to get to know you through these meetings. His curiosity for you begins to grow. He soon can't imagine not spending time without you.

❀It's not until Cregan needs to find a significant other, does someone suggests you. Cregan is taken aback by the statement. Eyeing them suspiciously before the individual reinforcing the statement.

❀Even then, it doesn't hit Cregan straight away why they're suggesting you. He's clueless until Cregan's observing you from afar. He's noticed the minor details about you. The way you smile, and the kindness in your eyes as you interact with others. Cregan finds himself smiling with you.

❀It strikes him then like a punch to the gut. He could imagine ruling Winterfell with you by his side. He wouldn't mind being married to you and managing whatever troubles come into play with you at his side.

❀Now, people's words make sense to him. His apparent feelings have been clear to everyone for ages. Who could he be so clueless?

❀When Cregan's realised his feelings towards you, he's going to make his intentions clear. He's going to approach you with the intent to court you within a matter of sunrises. He's done wasting time. How would could he have been such a naive fool?

[cherryheairt]

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Series-

Dragon Dreamer-

Summary: Daenys, Rhaenyra's eldest daughter, has been labeled as a mad woman by the realm and Queen Alicent. Upon her mother's crown being stolen by Aegon ii, Daenys finds herself being sent to the North to treat with Lord Stark. She finds a lot more than she bargained for with Cregan Stark.

Side story

Drabble

Chapter one-

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Oneshots-

In His Arms - Comfort/fluff

Pearls - Smut

Not Yet Blossomed pt 1- Angst/hurt comfort

Hidden Truths - Angst

Hidden Truths pt. 2 - Angst/open end

If I must -Angst

Jacaerys Velaryon-

WIP

Benjicot Blackwood-

Oneshots-

Dramatic

Gwayne Hightower

Oneshots-

Dance of Black and Green

Lord of the Rings

Legolas-

WIP

Thranduil

Oneshots-

Love and War

Marvel (MCU)

Bucky Barnes

Oneshots-

TLB

GOT

Ned Stark -

Arcane -

Viktor -

The Weight of Us

Vi -

Genshin Impact

You get into a barfight