Tom Taylor - Tumblr Posts
nothing compares to them
ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader
Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?
Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!
Word count: 2.8k
The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.
“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.
🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed
🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao
(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.
Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.
Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.
Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.
Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.
With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.
“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.
“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”
“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”
“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”
“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”
“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.
“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.
“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.
“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”
“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”
She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.
“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”
“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.
(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.
She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.
“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.
“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.
“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.
The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.
She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.
“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.
“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.
“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.
An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?
“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”
“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”
The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.
“‘M absolutely knackered.”
Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.
“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.
“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”
If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.
“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”
“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”
“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but her brother was currently listening only to himself.
“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”
“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”
“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”
“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.
Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”
“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.
“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.
“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.
A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.
“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”
Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.
Two new messages.
🐺: you looked so pretty today
🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!
The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.
Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.
“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”
Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly.
“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”
His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”
Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.
“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”
Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore.
“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”
She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.
“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”
Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”
“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.
“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”
With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.
“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.
“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.
Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised.
The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.
Of course they won.
The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.
“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.
“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”
“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”
Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.
The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.
And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.
“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.
Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.
“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.
“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”
(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.
“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.
“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”
“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”
Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.
“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.
“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.
“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.
The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”
Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”
Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.
Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.
(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.
They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom.
It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.
“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”
Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.
Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”
They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.
But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.
“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”
“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”
Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.
“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”
puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader
Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighbor’s dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and you’re totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.
Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!
Word count: 2.5k
A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip.
She wasn’t even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.
Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern King’s Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she might’ve officially lost her mind.
“I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.
“It’s... cozy,” she replied with her best smile. Didn’t want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.
“Good.” Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. “Now, remember, once the snow hits, you’ll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.” She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. “Rent’s due by the tenth.”
“I’ll remember,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Thanks again for lowering the price.”
Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.”
The old woman paused at the door. “You sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, I’m telling ya. Handsome, too. He’d help, if you ask nicely.” She winked. “If I were only a few decades younger…”
“All good, ma’am,” (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. “I don’t have much. A few boxes, really.”
“Well, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!”
With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. She’d unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.
She’d find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.
She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.
Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.
“Oh, gods,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Are you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.”
Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.
“You’re a dog,” she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. “A boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?”
Animals don’t talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. She’d left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.
The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.
“I’m moving into this house,” she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldn’t offer much in the way of conversation. “I’ve got a lot to do, but after that, we could—”
And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.
“Bye?” she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.
She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.
“Do you want to play?” she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. “Where are you even from?”
She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?
“Good boy!” (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.
“Excuse me, is he harassing you, lady?” she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.
The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.
She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.
“He’s mine,” the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal him, just so you know” (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. “He just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thought…”
Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were kidnapping him,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I was just making sure he wasn’t bothering you. He must’ve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.”
Ah. The young Stark.
“No, not at all,” she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. “He’s well-behaved. What’s his name?”
The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.
The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.
“Frosty,” he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.
It was the girl’s turn to laugh.
“You named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.
“He likes the cold,” Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you are…?”
“(Y/N). I’d shake your hand, but I’m doing something important. Nice to meet you though.”
“Cregan,” he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. “Nice to meet you too. Frosty’s obviously on cloud nine. He’s usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.”
Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.
“He’s my first friend in Winterfell.”
Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.
“So, renting from Mrs. Glover?”
“Yeah, I just moved in from King’s Landing today.”
“City girl, yeah?” He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. “You’ve come a long way. But hey, I’m not complaining. We’re neighbors now. I live across the street.”
(Y/N) flashed a smile. “I’m not complaining either.”
“Please feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. I’ll give you my number, just in case.”
Smooth, Cregan, smooth.
Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.
“Now, let’s help you with that.”
That old hag was right. He had good arms.
The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.
But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frosty’s massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)’s hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.
Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didn’t move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.
Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was.
Helaena Targaryen.
“How’s the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?” came Helaena’s voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before (Y/N) even had a chance to say hello.
“First of all, the grass is frozen solid,” (Y/N) shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. “And second, again. There is no seducing happening.”
“Sure, smarty-pants. And you’re totally not babysitting his dog right now.”
“I mean,” (Y/N) sighed with a reluctant smile. “said dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.”
He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying that’s not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.
Hel snorted loudly on the other end. “Oh my god, he’s ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,” she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. “The message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in your—”
(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. “You’ve got to stop. I’m not ready for this. And he’s just kind.”
“Kind of having a crush on you. You’re still hurting after that Gwayne situation, aren’t you?”
The mention of his name made her feel sick. “It’s not about him. I’m just... done with dating for a while.”
“Well, he was a moron,” Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. “For the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.”
(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryens’ loyalty. “I’m tired of men.”
“You’re not tired of men,” Helaena corrected her. “You’re tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?”
She knew he wasn’t.
“Hey, if you don’t make a move, I will.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Kidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.”
A strange noise woke her up.
It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadn’t even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.
“If this is some kind of monster, I swear I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.
Frosty?
She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Cregan’s dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.
He wanted her to follow him.
“Hold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a “dog leads the way to an emergency” situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty was checking over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up.
In no time, they arrived at Cregan’s house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.
“Cregan?” she called out hesitantly.
“Yeah?” came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.
“Are you okay?” she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.
“Feeling great. Want some coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.
“Am I a joke to you?” Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thought—” She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I thought something had happened to you. I figured you’d, I don’t know, passed out or something. I’m pretty sure I just aged ten years.”
Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, what’s the deal?” he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “This is not funny.”
“You really got that worried?”
“Yes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,” she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. “And half-naked. I might cry.”
That did it—Cregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.
“Should I put on a shirt?” he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. “If it bothers you.”
“No, you’ve got some nice muscles on your back,” she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. “And you,” she added, giving the dog a playful glare, “are lucky you’re cute.”
Cregan placed the mug in front of her.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he said with a smirk.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.
Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.
“You look good,” he said finally, sounding genuine. “Want some breakfast?”
Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.
“Uh, no, I’m good,” she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.
“Dinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If you’d like, of course,” Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.
(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?
“Are you asking me out?”
He let out a soft laugh. “I’ve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,” he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the owner’s hand with his nose. “Oh, great, emotional support,” Cregan muttered, scratching the dog’s head affectionately.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes.”
“Yes?” he echoed, hopeful.
“Yes,” she affirmed, her heart racing. “Just let me know what time, and I’ll dress up.”
He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. “I’ve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. I’m actually not sure if I’m gonna make it.”
She liked him so much.
“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?”
“Oh, please do,” Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.
Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.
Frosty placed an approving paw on Cregan’s leg.
Well done, human.
Meek.
Cregan Stark x Baratheon!reader
Summary: Cregan is determined to be a different man for his betrothed than the men in her family.
Warnings: poor treatment of women, sexism, cursing, talks of sex, making out
A/N: Based on TWO asks!!!! Also--- not proofread😯
Masterlist
....................................................
Everyone knew the absolute torment that house Baratheon put their women through.
They were cruel to them, not caring for anything but their own pleasure. That was well known.
When Cregan was betrothed to Lord Baratheon's second eldest daughter, he wondered how she'd fair under the Northern weather.
Lord Baratheon didn't even bother to see her go, sending her off to the Wolf with just her handmaidens and guards to see her safe to Winterfell.
Cregan stood at the doors, his shoulders back in a display of northern pride. He was beyond grateful to rid the sweet woman from the ungrateful Baratheons.
The moment her horse stepped through the gate, his people were attentive to her, taking her belongings and beginning to carry them into the castle.
She watched them with widened eyes, confused by their kindness. Cregan quickly stepped down the stairs to her, "Welcome, my lady."
Her head snapped to him and looked down at him from her horse. She said nothing in fear of saying the wrong thing.
He reached up and gently pulled the reigns from her hands. The leather slid from her grasp slowly. She dared not to intervene.
Once he had the reigns in his hand, he pulled on them, walking the horse further into the yard and closer to Winterfell.
She merely let him as she held to the saddle.
Cregan felt a small smile grow on his face. She was a curious thing. It was too bad she wouldn't voice her thoughts.
As he looked up at her, he decided then to change that. He would get her to open up one day.
He tied the reigns off and held out his hand to her. "Let me help you." She reminded him of a skittish doe, ready to run at any sign of danger.
Her shaky hand reached out, and she swung her leg over the horse. She stared at him expectantly.
He let go and grabbed her waist, holding her as he slid her down the horse's side and placed her on the ground.
"Thank you, Lord Stark," her soft voice finally spoke.
He swore he'd never heard anything sweeter.
How the Baratheons could bare to mistreat her, he'll never know.
…
He told the North that he was in no way going to rush the marriage. So she stayed in the Winterfell walls unwed so he could understand her more before becoming one.
He felt like he owed her that.
She deserved to be known.
She had become a little more comfortable around him, beginning to slowly speak to him about only the things that were essential to say aloud.
The two walked the grounds together, a routine they had developed over time.
"I wish you'd speak about things that don't matter," he finally mentioned. He peeked over to her to see her reaction.
Her brows furrowed as she stared in front of her, "I don't understand."
"I didn't mean it in that sense I suppose." He reached up with his free to stroke the hair on his chin in thought of what to say. "I want to know the things that you worry I'll find unimportant. Does that make sense?"
She hesitantly shook her head.
He sighed softly at how to correct his words. Finally, he shrugged. "I want to know you."
"You do," she countered quietly.
"I don't," he smiles as he brushed hair behind her ear, "but I'd like to."
She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch to her face. The men in her family were far from this gentle. "I assure you there is nothing of interest to me."
"There is, I'm sure. I'll find it."
She nodded, "Whatever you wish, my lord." She began to walk again.
He pulled her back, "Not so quickly." He reached down and pulled both of her hands into his. "Don't say what you wish me to hear. Say what you are thinking."
"Why would I do that?" She asked innocently.
He cursed under his breath but didn't let her see the way his jaw clenched. "It matters to me. Your thoughts, I mean."
She stared at their intertwined hands, "Even the unpleasant ones?"
"Especially the unpleasant ones."
It was a strange concept for her, but she nodded as her brain began to truly consider what he was asking for.
He smiled in relief, still holding one hand and beginning to walk again. "Let us start with simple matters. Perhaps… your favorite novel?"
Her head snapped to him, "I don't… I…"
His thumb rubbed over her knuckles, "I know you have one. I've seen the way book pages soak you in like water."
The question had been a sensitive one. She shrugged in a fake nonchalant fashion and kept walking, "I don't have one."
He hummed lowly, a small warning. "Don't lie. Just say what it is."
"I… I don't remember the name of it," she finally admitted.
He accepted that answer. "I see. What was it about?"
Her big eyes looked up at him, debating what to say. "It was… a fiction."
He smiled, "I see. There can be enjoyment in fictional novels, can't there?" He waited to say what else she would say. Each new piece of herself she revealed to him, he treasured like a precious stone.
"Well… it is the only one I've read, I'm afraid," she smiled weakly, eager to change the subject.
"The only?" He asked in pure shock. "The only one?"
She nodded, keeping in a certain side of herself. "It was left behind. Father has it."
"Ah," he said finally.
…
That evening, he wrote to Lord Baratheon, urging him to send her favorite book. He was straight to the point, telling the man he could send the novel to earn Stark's forgiveness for avoiding the wedding.
…
A few weeks later, a letter arrived addressed to Lord Stark. He almost ripped it out of the maester's hand in concern when he saw the Baratheon sigil in the wax. It was a thick roll, only making his concern spike.
He pulled it open, revealing a few pages that fell from his hand.
Book pages.
Ripped book pages.
He picked up one with a shaking hand. He began to see red as he looked back up at the maester. "What is the meaning of this?"
The maester held out his hand, "Allow me to read this for you, my lord."
Cregan handed the letter to him as he began to gather the few book pages that were sent to him.
The maester's face turned white. "He dares to disrespect you."
"Do not tell me these are what I believe them to be," he growled lowly.
"I'm afraid they are."
Cregan's hand slammed the papers onto the desk in pure rage and stormed out of the room.
…
Cregan swung his sword with a fury. His sparring partner could hardly keep up, but he knew his Lord just needed to get out his anger.
His partner was grateful when Cregan's betrothed interrupted them.
"Cregan?"
Cregan faltered, freezing in place and turning his head to her. "Yes?" He asked with a surprisingly soft voice.
She wrung her hands nervously. "I… Forgive me. I shouldn't have interrupted."
He stood up tall, handing his sword off to his partner and waving him off. "No. Please. Tell me what you need."
She hummed and let out a deep breath. "I've been thinking."
He nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Aye…"
"I'm ready to marry you."
He sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"
"I- I want to marry you, Cregan."
He saw the absolute nervousness that radiated through her frame to admit that to him.
He stepped to her, "You're sure?"
She nodded. "If you still want me."
He stepped further to her in urgency, "Of course, I do. Never think that I wouldn't."
She stared at him, now unsure of where to go from there.
Cregan smiled. "Shall I set a date for the wedding then?"
Her eyes lit up. "Would you?"
"I would. And I shall. We shall have it two weeks before Winter strikes. I will leave for the Wall not long after. Would that suffice?"
She looked down at her hands.
"What?" He tilted his head down, hoping to get her to look at him. "Did you wish for after winter? That could be quite a while."
She had worked herself up just to admit wanting to marry him. How could he expect her to do more?
"Talk to me, pretty girl."
She'd never been called that before. It made something inside of her stir.
"It's so far," she whispered.
He felt a chill down his spine at her small confession. He gulped as the anger left him completely. "Sooner then?"
"Sooner."
He nodded, biting his lower lip in deep thought. "Aye. Soon then."
A bright smile pulled at her lips. "Thank you, Cregan."
He grinned back. "Of course. Now, go on," he tutted playfully, "Your betrothed must finish his spar."
Red came to her cheeks, "Right. Right, of course. Excuse me, Lord Stark-"
"-Cregan," he quickly corrected.
"Cregan."
He watched her leave. There was a slight skip to her step now that he hadn't noticed about her before.
Perhaps she was finding happiness in Winterfell.
…
The wedding was a large northern celebration. The bannermen and families came from miles around to witness their Warden's wedding.
Everyone was too kind. It was beginning to worry her.
"Quite the feast, I'd say," Cregan smiled at her as the two sat at the high table.
Her hands immediately reached for her chalice of wine.
And she didn't stop for the entire night.
…
"Let us retire," he suggested when she tried to refill her cup again. His hand reached out and gently placed it over hers. "It is getting late. And before you fret, the bedding ceremony will not happen. It is only you and I."
Her eyes softened in surprise, not expecting him to say that. "One more glass for courage?" She slurred slightly.
His brows ticked down for only a second before he composed himself. "Courage isn't needed for this. Are you truly this nervous?"
"I'm perfectly content," she huffed.
The crease between his brows returned. That was uncharacteristic of her to speak in frustration. Had the wine affected her? "Then let us go, hmm?"
She nodded, setting her cup down. "Very well."
He stood, offering his hand out to her. She took it and stood, trying to hide the slight falter in her first step. She moved her hand up to his bicep, letting him lead her from the banquet hall.
Entering their chambers, she sat on the bed. "Will you have me on my back or shall you take me from behind?" She asked bluntly, no hint of embarrassment or hesitation to her.
Cregan hand on the doorknob faltered. He locked the door and turned to her with shock on his face, "What was that?"
"Which way do you fuck, Lord Stark?" She asked in the same tone.
He shook his head with an amused chuckle. He stepped to her, reaching down and pushing her chin up to look at him. "I will not be fucking you tonight." He watched her posture change, a relaxation coming to her. "Why would you ask something so crude? It's unlike you."
"You wanted me to speak my mind, and I have," She stated in frustration.
"You certainly have," he commented. "But I have a feeling that the wine is twisting your words. Tell me why you indulged in so much wine tonight."
She shrugged, "Why do you care?"
He gently pulled her chin back up, "I care about you."
"There it is." Her nose twitched. "I don't know what to do when you say things like that."
He stood straight, "You didn't answer the question."
"Fine!" She stood up and stepped around him, "I drank so much because I have never known a man to be as kind as you and it frightens me."
"Frightens you? How so?" Cregan was beyond confused. He turned to watch her.
She stepped to the fireplace and buried her hands in her hair in frustration. "I've never wanted to speak my mind to anyone until I met you, and now I fear I'll say something I shouldn't and ruin it all. Do you know what that feels like? To know that one wrong word could send you back to…" Her voice faded off.
"I don't. And neither do you, because regardless of your words, I'm not going to send you back there. You're a Stark. The Baratheons are only a name now- if you want them to be, that is. If you want to truly be a Stark in name and heart." He offered. His calculating eyes watched her closely now, frowning at the tugging of her hair.
"Even after I've indulged myself in wine and ruined our wedding to the point that you refuse to consummate the marriage with me?" She turned to him and only then did he see the glimmer of the tears that sat in her eyes.
"You did not ruin anything. But I will not sleep with you as long as you are not fully aware of your actions."
"I am aware," she huffed.
"We shall see in the morning." The slightest amused smile come over him. "I promised to take you to bed one way or the other. Perhaps tonight, it is only to sleep and nothing more." He walked to her. "Turn around. Let me undo your laces, stubborn woman."
She did as he asked, pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Will I regret this tomorrow?"
"The marriage or this particular conversation?" He asked. "If it has to be one, I hope it is the latter. I personally enjoy the former."
She hummed, pulling her outer dress down once Cregan had untied it enough. Layer by layer, she threw each piece to the cloth chair not far from the fire.
Cregan's careful hands untied each string they came across.
Silence filled the room, and she broke it with a small sniffle. Her voice was much softer now, "Do you believe my father didn't want to be here? Is that something you believe?"
Of course, he believed it, but he wouldn't say it. "I'm not sure. Do you, sweet girl?"
She hummed, "I do."
That surprised him. "Ah. Do continue speaking your mind, please. Do not let me stop you."
"He has a particular hatred for women. I'm not sure where it started. When he had a firstborn daughter rather than son, my mother was fearful for the girl. I was second. He married us off without a second thought. Dare I admit to you that he signed me away to you without truly reading the document?"
Cregan placed his hands on her clothed hips and spun her to face him.
No wonder she came here so fearful. She was mistreated from the beginning. He stared into her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle. He reached up and brushed his fingers on her cheek. "How could a man ever hate you?" He asked with a barely heard voice.
Her heart jolted, "I have never felt love before. Is it supposed to feel this warm?"
Cregan let out a joyful laugh as he ran his hands through her hair. "I want to say yes, but you're near the fire. And the wine is coloring your cheeks. We shall revisit this when you are well. Let us get you to bed."
"Bed? Right." She pulled herself from him and moved to the bed. She tucked herself under the covers.
Cregan's smile stayed. "Are you warm enough for the night?"
"Yes, but… are you not staying?"
He shook his head. "I don't want you to wake in a fright if tonight's details blur in your mind. Waking beside me may be startling for you."
"No! I-" she looked around the room in thought. "I want you to stay. I want that."
His head tilted. "Alright. If you want this. But know that nothing will happen to you while I stay here tonight."
"I can live with that," she admitted as she laid on the bed completely.
Darkness filled the room with Cregan blew out the candles, and the bed dipped down as he laid on it.
…
In the morning, she awoke with a groan. The sun was burning her eyes.
"Ah, you're awake," Cregan's voice commented from across the room.
She sat up and rubbed at her eyes until they were raw, determined to get the feeling to fade. When she did, a headache began to erupt.
"Easy," he chided as he walked to her. He reached to the nightstand and held a cup out to her. "The maester made a tea to help with the pain."
She sipped it gratefully. "I had the strangest dream that I'm fearing is true," she said with a groggy voice.
He watched her with a glimmer in his eyes. His hand reached to her and smoothed her hair down.
She peered up at him. She wondered how someone could be so thoughtful.
"Tell me something," he said as sat down at her side. "If that's alright."
"Anything," she whispered. Her eyes flickered to his lips.
"Is the warmth still there?"
He watched her face began to near his. She placed her hand on his leg to help her lean over to him. "I believe I love you," she admitted gently.
He smiled and leaned the rest of the way to her. His lips kissed her softly and slowly.
Before she could truly react, he pulled away again. The grin on his lips returned, as were his hands in her hair, "I was going to gift this to you yesterday, but I believe today is a better day for it."
"Oh," her shy demeanor returned and she set the cup down.
"Don't fret. You'll adore it. Or… I hope you do."
She watched him get up from the bed, beginning to dig though a drawer in his closet.
He returned with a book in his hand. "It took some time, but I believe it was worth it."
She reached out and took it, examining the cover. She only stared at it for a moment before her eyes lit up. "Is this-?"
"Your favorite novel? It is." His head tilted back and forth, "Or, at least, I believe it is."
"This isn't the same copy as the one with my Father," she remarked.
"No, it's not. I tried to recover it but was unsuccessful. I hope this copy with be worthy of your happiness."
"Oh, Cregan," she mused. "It's… it is too much. I don't understand."
"It is a wedding gift. Do not think twice about it. You haven't the feignest idea of how far I would go to please you," he admitted.
"I've never had someone do something so selfless on my behalf." She hugged it to her chest, "Tell me how you managed it."
He smiled, content with the way she cherished the book. "I admit that I wrote a letter to your father, asking for the book. I was sent ripped pages in return-"
He faltered at the way her face fell.
"-But," he continued, "I sent the pages off to three well-read men and promised them anything to the man who found the novel it belonged to. It took a while, and I feared I would not have it in time, but alas, one of them found it. And here it is."
"What did he wish for?"
He frowned slightly, "Don't fret over that. Just know that it is all handled accordingly."
She pulled it from her chest to look at it again to guarantee that it was indeed real. "You are the most spectacular man I've met." She looked up at him. "I don't know what I have done to deserve you, but I shall spend my entire life thanking the gods for you."
"It is only a novel, my girl."
"It is much more than a novel."
"Then you'd hate to see what else I'd get you to only see a smile come to your lips."
She leaned over to him again as before, "May I kiss you?"
"Of course," he smiled.
She grinned and pushed herself into his lap completely, pulling her body as close to his as she could, careful to not hit him with the book still in her hand.
She finally connected their lips with a heavier intent than they had shared before.
He groaned against her and wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm certain," she panted against his lips, "I love you."
"My girl, I've loved you since the moment you arrived in Winterfell."
She pulled away from him completely. "W… What?"
"Since that day," he said as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I've been quite sure that I love you."
"You feel warmth when you are with me?"
"When I see you, I want to keep you beside me. I want to hold and kiss you until you're dizzy. I want to watch you sit and read until you become one with the sofa," he chuckled, "I want to see your joy as much as I can. I want you."
"You're unlike any man I know."
"That's alright. Isn't it?"
She chuckled as full relief flowed from her, as if only now accepting that she was safe here. "What a silly question, my lord."
He tilted his head playfully. "My lord?"
"It was my attempt at a jest," she admitted sheepishly. "Was it a poor one?"
"No," he countered. "I was just not expecting it from my meek wife. Perhaps she is not as meek as I once thought."
She laughed again, "Perhaps. We'll see, won't we?"
He kissed her cheek, "I cannot wait." He spoke in her ear, "But for now, be gone. You have a novel to read, don't you?"
Her eyes lit up and she clambered out of his lap. "I do! Oh, I do!"
Cregan watched the woman run to the cloth chair by the fireplace and sit, pulling her book open in a rush to absorb its words.
He chuckled and stood as he began to dress, "I'll fetch you for dinner. There's breakfast on the table from earlier. I expect you'll be content until then," he teased.
She looked up and nodded, "I will."
"Read closely. I expect to hear a summary at dinner of whatever chapters you consume."
She grinned from ear to ear as he left.
………………………………………………….
Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,
new tom taylor tiktok ! practicing cregan’s accent lmao
Winter’s Heart
overview: A quest for a ruling partner in Winterfell brings an emotional turning point
warning: Emotional confrontation, self-doubt, no use of y/n
a/n: one out of many discarded stories on my notes.
· · ────── · · ·𖥸· · · ───────── ·
Cregan Stark paced the halls of Winterfell, his temper simmering beneath his calm exterior. For days now, Alysarria had evaded him, turning away whenever the subject of their future arose. The lords of the North were insistent—Cregan needed a wife, someone strong to rule at his side.
He knew who that should be. He had known for years.
Alysarria, a healer of House Mormont, beloved by the people, had been by his side through thick and thin. She had mended broken bones and soothed the wounded, but when it came to his heart, she seemed blind to what lay between them.
Tonight, that would end.
He found her in the Great Hall, attending to a villager with a minor wound. As soon as her work was done, he strode over, his presence commanding. "Alysarria," he said, voice firm. "A word."
She looked up, hesitation flickering in her eyes. "Cregan—"
"Now," he cut her off, leaving no room for argument. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the courtyard. Reluctantly, she followed.
The air outside was biting, the chill of winter wrapping around them like a shroud. The stars above were cold and distant, much like the silence between them. Finally, Cregan turned to face her, his eyes burning with intensity.
“I am done with this game,” he began, his voice low and full of frustration. “Every time I speak of us, you flee. Why?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off again, his gaze hard. “I need to know why, Alysarria. Do you take me as a fool? That I do not see what is plain as day?”
Her heart pounded in her chest, fingers curling tightly around the edges of her cloak. “You know what is expected of you, Cregan,” she replied, her voice trembling. “Winterfell requires a strong Lady—someone who can rule with you, someone who can lead in times of war. I am but a healer.”
His eyes narrowed. “You think that makes you less worthy?”
“I know it does,” she countered, stepping back. “You need someone who can bear the weight of Winterfell. Someone who can fight beside you in the cold, in the dark. I am not strong enough for that, Cregan. You deserve more.”
Cregan’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “And what of your strength, woman? Do you not see it? The people of Winterfell trust you. They look to you for healing, for care, for guidance. Do you think that counts for nothing?”
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “That is not the same, Cregan. I mend bones, I tend to the sick—I do not lead armies. I do not sit in council chambers deciding the fates of men. You need a woman who can stand tall beside you, who can face down enemies and wield the Stark name with authority. I am not that person.”
“You speak as though you know my mind better than I do,” he growled, frustration clear in his tone. “Do you truly think I care for lords and councils? That I need a warrior at my side?”
“I think you need more than I can give!” she cried, her voice breaking. “You are a Stark. You were born to lead, to rule, and I—” Her breath hitched, the weight of her own words crushing her. “I am not enough.”
Cregan’s jaw clenched, his eyes fierce with emotion. “You know nothing,” he hissed, stepping forward, his towering presence making her feel small. “You speak of strength and worth as though they are measured in battle or in council chambers. But it is you who keeps this place alive, Alysarria. You, who the people turn to in their darkest moments. The heart of Winterfell beats because of you.”
Her tears flowed freely now, the weight of his words too much to bear. “Cregan, I… I cannot be what you need.”
He stepped closer, his breath warm against the icy night air. “Do you truly believe I would ask this of you if I thought you lacking?”
She shook her head, unable to speak, her vision blurred with tears. “I fear I will fail you. I fear Winterfell will fall, and it will be my fault.”
Cregan’s hand grasped her chin, gently lifting her face to meet his gaze. His expression softened, the fierceness in his eyes replaced by something deeper, something more tender. “You will not fail. You have more strength than you know, Alysarria. And you will not face any of it alone. Not while I live.”
His words broke something inside her, the walls she had built around her heart crumbling. A sob escaped her lips, and she turned away, covering her face with her hands.
“I love you, Alysarria,” Cregan whispered, his voice raw. “And I need you by my side, not as a symbol of power, not as some shield to bear the Stark name, but as the woman who has stood by me my whole life. The woman who I trust above all others. You are enough. You always have been.”
She shook her head, still overcome with doubt. “But what if I am not? What if—”
“I will hear no more of this,” he interrupted, his hand moving to cup her face, his thumb wiping away her tears. “You are enough. You are everything.”
The silence between them was thick with emotion, the cold air swirling around them both as if waiting for her response. Slowly, she looked up at him, her tears subsiding. “Cregan…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I am afraid.”
“So am I,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I would rather face that fear with you than without you.”
His words hung in the air, and for the first time in days, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was right.
With a trembling breath, she nodded. “I… I will marry you.”
Relief washed over his face, and before she could say another word, his lips were on hers, a kiss filled with all the love, the hope, the fear that had been building for so long.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “Together, we will face whatever comes,” he whispered. “Winterfell will stand, because we will stand together.”
And in that moment, beneath the cold Northern sky, Alysarria knew that Cregan Stark was her future.
And she was his.
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Little Red Riding Hood - Part 2
By @shadowandlightt
Snow And Flame - Part 2 ( I read it as a stand alone )
By @draczrys
Winter Rose
By @swordgrace
Blood In The Snow
By @bluebellhairpin
Striker
By @creganslover
More Than A Woman
Beast Of Winterfell
SINCE I KNEWWWWWW THAT TOM WOULD TAKE DOWN THE VIDEO I SAVED IT FOR YALL
here are the crumbs 💕💕
Saving the pasta for YESTERDAY 💜
he’s the type to grab your hand during sex to place it firmly on your lower abdomen so you can feel just how deep he is thrusting in you
WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO THIS IT WONT CAUSE ANY HARM JUST LET ME HAVE A LOOK IS IT TO MUCH TO ASK???
WHY DID THEY CUT THIS I HATE RYAN CONDAL I HATE SARA HESS I HATE HBO