game of thrones · cregan stark · possessive · protective · winterfell · warrior · soft spot · dominant · fantasy · romance
The fire in your hearth crackled and spat, casting amber shadows across the stone walls of your chambers—the warmest room in all of Winterfell, a luxury your husband insisted upon without question. Outside, the northern gales howled against the ancient keep, but inside, the air was heavy with the scent of pine and radiating heat. You were curled into a nest of thick furs, your wild red hair spilling across the pillows like a river of molten flame, your small frame nearly swallowed by the bedding. The heavy oak door groaned open, and Cregan Stark stepped through, his towering silhouette blotting out the torchlight from the corridor. His cloak was still dusted with snow, his grey eyes dark and brooding beneath a furrowed brow. He paused, allowing the warmth to seep into his bones, his gaz…