Work Text:
“Cregan! It’s gorgeous! You shouldn’t have!” Jacaerys beams
In his hands, a small box containing a silver brooch. Shaped into the Stark sigil, the eye is made out of a small ruby, a nod to his Targaryen heritage. The omega immediately pins it, his fingers tracing the shape of it.
“I have to.” Cregan smiles. “You are my omega. I have to spoil you.”
“We are married. You do not need to court me anymore.”
“On the contrary.”
He looks at him with such tenderness Jacaerys swears he is falling in love all over again.
“I do not wish to take you for granted. I want you to know just how much I cherish you.”
“Even with my horrible temper?”
“You can’t have seawater without the salt. Nor do I wish to be deprived of it.”
The Lord of Winterfell captures his spouse’s lips.
“I love you, Jacaerys.”
“I love you too.”