Gtgbabie0 - ★彡

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William Bonney is the most caring man you’ve ever been with, despite his rugged appearance and the title that weighs upon his shoulders, he’s the softest man you’ve ever met.

At least to you that is, you get to see the gentler sides of him that didn’t exist within ‘Billy the Kid’ the character that everyone seems to have a different version of. You get to see the man who longs for a simpler life.

You give him that, a glimpse of a simpler life and it’s something he knows that he might not have forever, but those are thoughts for a different day.

Right now he’s trying to focus on teaching you how to hold a gun properly, his chest pressing up against your back with his hands holding the tops of your arms. Immediately you tense up, stretching your arms out in front of you as you grasp his pistol tightly.

“Baby, you gotta stop locking your elbows.” He chuckles, his hands reaching for your forearms as he adjusts your posture. It’s the fifth time he’s reminded you and you repeat the mistake each time, without fail.

He drops a kiss against your shoulder, taking in the hint of lavender that lingers within your hair from this morning’s outings. “I’m trying Billy.” You whisper with a small whine, a pout gracing your lips.

“S’alright… you’ll get there.” He encourages you, pressing another kiss against your jaw before moving your hands to hold the gun more comfortably.

“Stop tensing up, you’re in control here.” He reminds you with a gentle tone, helping your aim a little before stepping back ever so slightly.

You take a deep breath, Billy’s gun-calloused hands reaching to cover your ears from the sound as you squeeze the trigger, a soft gasp escaping your lips. With a loud bang, the bullet hits the tree beside the bottle you are aiming for.

You huff in slight frustration, watching as he takes the gun gently from your hands, he twirls it flawlessly around his fingers before slipping it into the holster.

“Now you’re just showing off.” Your comment makes him smirk, stepping closer to you with a look in his eyes that makes your chest feel all warm.

His arm wraps around your waist as he tugs you closer to him with a chuckle, “You’re too impatient.” He whispers against your lips, kissing you sweetly. You groan softly, looking up at him as his arms stay wrapped around you. It’s true, you’re far too impatient with yourself and it’s something Billy caught onto quickly.

“Yeah… I know.” You huff, pressing your face against his shoulder as his big hands cradle the back of your head. His fingers brushing through your hair as he presses a kiss against your temple.

“My sweet girl.” He whispers, his free hand coming to caress your jaw as he tries to coax you to look back up at him.

Your eyes meet his with a small smile, his thumbs brushing over your warm cheeks. The afternoon sun paints you both with a warm, orange light that casts over the grassy plains.

“You gotta give yourself time, stop being so hard on yourself.” He says, lips pressed against the side of your head. There’s something about his tone that makes your chest tighten, and you know he isn’t just talking about the gun.

You nod your head as his hands still cup either side of your face, his eyes fixed onto your own as he watches the words fail to leave your lips so you open and close your mouth.

He’s so gentle with the way he loves you, it leaves you completely breathless and yearning for more. Perhaps that gives reason for the tears that begin to build up in your eyes, he quickly wipes them away with his thumbs.

“Thank you.” Your words come out in a whisper, a loving smile gracing your lips as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Don’t gotta thank me.” He says, his words carrying a promise to forever love you in the way you deserve.

He hugs you against him, his arms wrapping around your body with his chin resting on top of your head. You both share whispered ‘I love you’s’ between sweet kisses.

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Everyone deserves a reassuring Billy <3

hellooooo🥰 first time requester here!!! (let me know if i am not doing anything right for future reference!! :) ) i loved your cowboy! remus lupin x preachers daughter! reader. was curious if you could do a continuation??? maybe seeing her at the saloon or in a public place??? just a thought! thank u so much:))

-Cowboy!Remus Lupin x reader

{Seeing the preacher’s daughter in the saloon was the last thing Remus expected, although he won’t be complaining.}

This is perfect, thank you so much for requesting. Enjoy lovelies💕

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The oil lamps cast a low moody light through the saloon, the glasses clinking and the patrons sharing a laugh or two whilst they play poker. It’s relatively quiet for a Friday, with most ranch owners taking advantage of the extra light the summer brings.

Remus is sitting at one of the tables with his hat pulled down low. One of the men opposite hands out some cards as Remus pushes a couple of coins and a handgun onto the table, his offer makes the rest of the men at the table share a couple of smirks.

Then the Saloon doors swing open, at first he doesn’t think anything of it just figuring that the general store owner from across the street had closed early. Then he hears Lily Evans’ voice followed by your giggle and he damn near falls off his chair in shock.

The rest of the men in the Saloon also share confused looks, they all know your father. The proud man who gives daily sermons, dedicating himself to spreading the word of God. What's his daughter doing stumbling in here?

Remus tips his hat up, looking under the edge of it and over in your direction. He smirks proudly, not quite believing that you dared to venture out because he knows for a fact your father was more of the overprotective type, and with that comes his strictness.

He keeps a watchful eye on you, shooting death glares at anyone who gets a little too close to comfort as you take your seat at the bar. Of course, you’re in a world of your own, completely oblivious to the cowboy who sits at the back table.

Remus can hardly pay attention to the game of poker that he’s stuck in. He’s far too distracted by the way you’re perched up on that stool and how the dress you’re wearing hugs at your body. You’re absolutely angelic, the warm light that dusts against your skin, and that sweet giggle of yours only proves this to him.

He wins by pure luck with a royal flush. Claiming the winnings that were piled up on the table with a cocky tone as he gives them a, “Thank you, gentlemen,” before walking over to where you’re sitting at the bar.

A hand against your lower back makes you jump, taking you out of your conversation with Lily as you let out a gasp. “Easy there Darlin’ s’just me.” Remus drawls, leaning against the wooden bar, his elbow propping up against the surface.

You look over to him with bright eyes, sparkling with excitement as you watch him order a whiskey. “What’re you doing here?” You ask him with a certain air of giddiness in your tone.

Remus knocks back his dark liquid with a low groan, placing his hat down on the bar before looking down at you, his eyebrows raised slightly in amusement.

“Could ask you the same gorgeous.” He smirks, the back of his fingers brushing against your warm cheek as he admires your pretty face.

You idly trail your fingertips along the rim of your whiskey glass with a shy smile, glancing down at your hands as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Just stopping in for a drink with Lily-” You cut yourself off as you glance behind you, noticing that she had disappeared off to speak to Mary.

Remus hums softly, caressing your jaw with his thumb as he tilts your head back over to look up at him once again. “Does your Pa know?” He asks with a sly smirk when you shake your head ‘no’

With that he tuts teasingly, the roughness of his palm against your soft cheek sends a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but shy away from him ever so slightly.

“Darlin’ you tryin’ to give your old man a heart attack?” He chuckles lowly, his hand falling to rest against your hip.

He watches as you pout, the way your eyebrows furrow together. A huff escapes your lips and he bites his tongue, keeping his teasing words to himself with a smirk that teeters against his lips.

“I don’t need his permission to go out for a drink.” You tell him, taking a sip of your whiskey with a slight grimace on your face. That gets him, watching the disgust twist through your expression, he can’t stop himself from chuckling into his palm.

Remus leans down slightly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. He lets his lips linger for just a moment before pulling back as the bartender pushes another glass over to him.

“Nah you don’t, just gotta be careful baby.” He says, his expression softening slightly. He puts his hat down upon your head, tilting your chin upwards to look at him.

He quickly knocks back his second glass, his eyes meeting yours as his thumb rests against your chin. “My girl…” he whispers under his breath, his hand falling to gently fiddle with your cross necklace.

“I’m careful, always am.” You tell him, fixing his hat to sit comfortably on your head as he pays for yours and his drinks before you can even start to complain.

He nods in acknowledgement, but he also knows that won’t stop your father from marching his way into town to get you, he’d save you from that embarrassment.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get ya home.” He says, relief washing over him you give him a soft nod. Thankful that you’re not going to fight him on it, you understand how difficult your father can be at times.

The sun had completely gone down, making space for the moon and stars. Remus guides you out of the smokey Saloon with a hand against the small of your back, helping you up to saddle his horse.

He takes you home as promised, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips as you place his hat back onto his head. He doesn’t leave until he knows you’re in the safety of your home, an odd sense of longing swarming his stomach as he rides off.

One day he’d save up enough money to buy some land and get a house… first he has to get enough courage to ask for your father’s blessing.

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-Art by @/sophithil on twt

-Cregan Stark x reader

{Cregan finds you curled up, sleeping in your shared bedchambers}

Enjoy my lovelies💕

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Lord Stark wasn’t unfamiliar with busy days, the type that consumed all of his attention and energy to only leave him exhausted. The endless amount of problems that seemed to grow with each passing hour, it was a tiring feat that he handled with ease.

His duty to his House and the North was admirable, you often find yourself marvelling at how much care he has for every single minute detail that most seemed to not notice. However, his duty to you was tenfold this… perhaps that is why Cregan decided to end his day earlier than usual.

Making the eager escape back to your shared bedchambers, just the thought of you turns him into a ball of giddiness, hidden behind the rugged nature that exudes him.

He forces himself to slow his movements down as he spots you, curled up in the middle of the bed, against the furs in your cotton nightgown. He silently curses the creaky, heavy, door of your bedchambers, the groan it lets out as he closes it shut causes you to gently stir from your sleep.

“Sorry, my dear.” He whispers brows pinched together as he takes off the furs that drape over his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You shake your head in weak protest to his words, rubbing your eyes with a smile at the feeling of him sitting down on the edge of the bed. He admires you for a moment, how the warm fireplace casts an orangey light over your body, painting you like some sort of goddess.

“I wasn’t sleeping… just resting my eyes.” You whisper through a sleep-laden tone, your gaze meeting his own.

With a chuckle he cups the side of your face, his calloused palm resting against your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the space underneath your eyes.

“Really? Then why are you drooling all over the pillows love?” He teases, lips curled upwards into a smirk.

“I did not!” You gasp and he watches you quickly push yourself to sit up and check the pillows, rolling your eyes with a small huff.

“Maybe just a little.” He whispers, thumbing at the corner of your mouth, wiping away the remnants of a really good nap.

You shoot a playful glare up at him, moulding back into your comfortable position. A sigh escapes your lips as his fingers brush through your hair, his fingertips grazing against your scalp soothingly.

His eyes soften at the way you lean into his touch, how your body seems to completely relax once more. “How long have you been ‘resting your eyes’ for?” He asks, amusement threading through his gentle tone.

“A while… I lost track of time.” You reply with an almost sheepish smile, enjoying the way he begins to play with your hair which has become a little tussled from sleep. “I did try to wait up for you…”

“Hmm, that didn't last too long, did it?” He asks, looking down at you with adoration, his chest blooming with warmth as you nuzzle yourself against the roughness of his hand.

“No… but I did try.” You promise, making space for him as he shuffles closer to you, drawing your body to rest against him.

Cregan props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with a tenderness in his eyes that completely melts you. He watches as you curl up against him whilst he brings the furs over your shoulders to protect you from the harsh winds that continue to howl through the castle.

"I appreciate the effort, my love, but you needn't tire yourself out waiting for me." He responds in a low and soothing tone, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

"You know I would never want you to lose sleep on my account." Cregan continues, letting his lips linger against your forehead. His hand comes to rest against your hip, caressing the curve and dip of your waist.

He has always been so sweet to you, putting you before anything else and never once letting you doubt your place in his heart. It was a shock, especially after the rumours you had heard about him when in reality he was a huge softie... at least to you he is.

A moment of silence passes and he thinks you might’ve fallen back asleep, that is until you’re pulling him back down to steal a sweet kiss, which he is quick to deepen. He hums in contentment against your lips at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair.

“I’ve missed you today.” You whisper against his lips, the kiss tapering off into small loving pecks.

He grins, caressing your cheek as he pulls back slightly to look down at you. “Well… I’m right here now and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.” He replies, his thumb trailing along your bottom lip as he holds your face before capturing your lips once more.

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I need him!

-Benjicot Blackwood x Arryn!Reader

{Benjicot doesn’t mind getting his hands bloodied if it means protecting your honour}

word count- 1.7k

!CW!//vulgar language, descriptions of blood// Enjoy my lovelies💕

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The Vale was all harsh winds and rain since the sun had first begun to rise above the horizon, a thick layer of fog rolls through the high mountains and over the hills creating a rather eerie atmosphere around the courtyard of Raventree hall.

You sit on the balcony that overlooks the training grounds with your sister, Jeyne Arryn, protected from the light rain by the stoney overhang. You both had been asked to unite your houses for a few days in hopes of getting the men more accustomed to the sword and shield a little faster.

It had been going great in all honesty, they seemed to have lifted each other spirits despite the pressure of the looming war.

“Is your friend down there?” Jeyne smirks, looking over at you with a playful gleam in her eyes.

She takes joy in the way your eyes widen ever so slightly, how you move away from the edge to slouch back into your chair. “No, not yet.” You mumble, crossing your arms over your chest in a harrumph.

You roll your eyes at Jeyne and the sound of her chuckles, smiling into her cup whilst she continues to tease you. Her jabs are soon cut off by the sound of men cheering and metal clanging together in excitement.

You immediately lean back over the stone railing of the balcony, looking down at the group of men searching for…

Benjicot. He had made quite a name for himself over the past few moons, his way with a sword was… wild to put it more kindly. He was a madman on the battlefield, charging in with absolutely no fear, the complete opposite of the shy boy you grew up with.

For a small second your gazes meet. He waves softly, sending you a sweet smile which you happily return before he’s dragged away to the training yard by his friends.

The sound of your sister’s giggling snaps you out of the moment, your face twisting into a small frown. “Do not start.” You huff, slouching back into the chair with a pout.

Your sister makes small conversation, keeping it light as you watch over the training. Benjicot found it hard to stay focused, his mind drifting over to the fact that you were watching him with your pretty eyes.

The pair of you shared plenty of fleeting moments together, lingering touches and sweet whispered words. You danced along the line of friends and something more but neither of you took the leap, too scared of ruining the deep friendship you have.

Benjicot sits on a tree stump, cleaning his sword with a rag as his eyes glance between the balcony where you sit and the men around the training yard. He was miles away, thinking about how he could see you tonight… perhaps a walk through the garden… or maybe sneaking you into the kitchens.

His mind soon gets away from him, all of his thoughts consumed by you… but then again when are they not?

The sound of two rowdy men snaps him out of his trance, his expression immediately darkening with his brows pinched together tightly. They sound drunk as they speak horrid nonsense about women, barely able to hold their swords let alone stand on two feet.

“I’d fuck her… bet her cunt is tight too, ey?” The taller one says, harshly nudging the other man's shoulder almost sending him tumbling to the floor.

Benjicots fingers tighten around the hilt of the sword, his knuckles going white with anger. He hopes for their sake that they’re not talking about you. “Mhm… bet shes a squealer.” The other man agrees, the pair of them chuckling.

The sound goes right through Ben, his blood running cold as he watches them cast their predatory gaze over to you as you lean curiously over the edge of the balcony.

The sword that he was cleaning drops to the floor with a dull thud. He acts way before he thinks, his body moving without hesitation and before he knows it he’s coiling back his arm, colliding his tight fist down against one of the taller drunkards face as the other scurries off.

A crimson colour stains his knuckles, the blood warm and wet in between his fingers. The adrenaline overshadows the pain that shoots down his arm, reducing it to a mere tingle that he’ll surely feel later on. He watches the fool drop to the damp, cold ground, writhing in pain whilst clutching his nose as it weeps a thick red.

Benjicot opens and closes his hand, trying to lessen the ache. “Perhaps next time you’ll hold your tongue.” He sneers before storming off with a mean glare that makes everyone step out of his way.

You had watched the whole scene unfold, worry immediately settling in the pit of your stomach, etching across your face. Your sister tells you to ‘stay put’ however her words fall upon deaf ears as you rush back inside, running down the halls and the twists and turns of the castle.

The Maesters chambers are where you find Benjicot. His aunt walks out of the room with a displeased expression, however, the candlelight gives away the amusement that flickers through her dark eyes.

She greets you with a warm smile, nodding her head. You return the action before slipping into the room, your gaze immediately finding his as he gives you a sheepish smile.

“Hey…” his words break through the silence, the crackle of the hearth taking over once more as you wordlessly walk deeper into the room.

His hand was submerged in a dark oak basin, the water inside had long turned murky with a minty almost medicinal aroma. You sit down on the chair adjacent to his own, brows pinched together in concern.

“Where’s the Maester?” You ask, looking at him with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Gone to get some sort of balm… I don’t need it.” His words make you tut, shaking your head as you watch him pull his hand out of the water. He seethes a little in pain, teeth clenched.

You reach over for a cloth, drying off his hand but whilst being careful to not cause him any more discomfort, he was already shifting and squirming in his chair.

“What even happened?” You sigh, holding his injured hand against your lap. Your thumb ever so gently caresses his palm in such a way that it makes his mind spin and his heart skip a beat.

He swallows, clearing his throat. “They— they were making… distasteful… comments towards you. I won’t repeat them.” He tells you, shaking his head firmly.

“How silly… look at your hands over some words.” You scold lightly, although there was no real bite to your soft tone. You couldn’t be, in fact, the thought of him defending you like this sends a pleasant warmth blooming through your chest. Although you wouldn’t tell him that, for his own sake.

“I’m fine, I have no regrets. They deserved it.” He states, watching the way you bring his knuckles into the candlelight to assess the damage.

They were red raw, the skin split open at the tips of each knuckle save for his thumb. A purplish colour tints the delicate skin, the shade darker around the cuts then fading off into a more dull colour. It certainly was not fine.

“You should be more careful.” Your words are hushed, whispered into the air, so soft that if he weren’t sitting so close to you he probably wouldn’t hear you. His eyes meet your own once more, admiring the way the candles cast an orangey light across your pretty features.

His fingers itch to reach out and tuck a loose curl behind your ear, to graze the back of his fingers along to warm cheek. But he refrains, even the mere thought has his stomach swarming with nervous butterflies.

You take another thin sheet of cloth, edges ragged with loose threads and the fabric an off-white colour. He looks at you with a quizzical expression, watching you dip one end of the cloth into the basin.

Before he can ask any questions you’re already leaning closer to him, knees bumping together. Your hand reaches out to ever so gently cup his jaw, fingers curling against his cheek to hold his head still whilst you wipe away a small mud stain just under his eye.

“Thank you…” he says, breath hitching in his throat at the way your thumb brushes along his warm cheek.

“No, I should be thanking you, really.” Your words make him smile, his eyes softening. “Thank you,” You add, your eyes searching his own.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t, not with you so close to him. He fears that he might have ruined the moment when silence wraps around the room. He suddenly doesn’t know what to do with himself or if he should move the hand that rests upon your lap.

He lets out a small noise in the back of his throat, trying to will the words from his lips but none come and it only serves to cause his mind to spiral, cursing himself and his inability to speak.

The feeling of your lips against his cheek brings him back, his worries and fears ebbing away until the only thing that was on his mind is your flowery perfume and the softness of the kiss. He finally lets out a breath. His hand rests against your knee as you pull back, a pang of disappointment hitting his chest.

“You don’t need to thank me… I’d never let anyone slander your name, but either way, you are welcome.” He finally manages to speak, the words tumbling out of his lips rather ungracefully.

You entwine your fingers with his own, minding his roughened knuckles, holding his hand ever so gently with your own. His thumb caressing the inside of your wrist, the calluses feel strangely nice.

“Perhaps afterwards we could walk through the gardens?” The suggestion makes his heart skip a beat, the image was already vivid in his mind, walking arm in arm with you.

“Of course, if it would please you, my lady.” He replies, hoping the words sound more graceful than before.

You hum in agreement, nodding your head. Your warm hands still in his own, the kiss lingering on his cheek, your knees pressing against either side of his own and your honeyed gaze still upon him… he realises he’s completely doomed, you hold his heart in the palm of his hand.

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Hello! I enjoyed the Cregan fanfic. May i ask if it's okay with you if i have another request?😅 (if it's not too much to ask huhu) I kept thinking how Cregan would be like if he had a daughter

-Cregan Stark x Reader

{A small sweet moment with your daughter and Husband}

I hope this is okay, its a super small blurb. Thank you for the request!! Enjoy my lovelies💕

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If anyone dared to ask if Lord Stark had a favourite amongst his four children he would tell them “No.” in a firm, cold manner. A look so deadly it would send a violent shiver down any man’s spine.

However, between his four children- three boys and one girl- it was his daughter who would get away with anything and everything.

They say that it was little Mariah who melted away all of Cregan’s ice walls after he arrived back in the North. Holding her in his arms when she was just a babe brought back his humanity, which he thought was long gone since the war, warming his heart back to life with love.

The same little girl, now of age four, who is adamant about sitting with Cregan as he attends meetings with other Northern Lords, making her voice loudly known. She was headstrong and Cregan had no one to blame but himself.

He had not long returned from one of these meetings, bidding goodbyes to the Lords who looked less than pleased about the comments his daughter was making. But they did well to hide their displeased expression behind polite smiles, everyone knew how to stay out of the Stark family business.

“How did it go?” You wonder, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as he walks through the shared bedchambers with Mariah perched on his hip.

You could tell from the tired looks in both of their dark eyes that the meeting was long… perhaps even boring.

“I got to sit on the big chair.” Mariah giggles, giving you a toothy smile as Cregan places her on your lap before taking off his furs.

You hum in surprise at her words as she rambles on about how she is now “Lady Stark” and how her father could ‘rest’ instead of going to such meetings. Although you could tell- as she spoke through a yawn- that perhaps it was her that should rest.

The notion of such an idea makes Cregan chuckle, his eyes creasing with amusement. “I’ve got plenty of time yet, Lady Stark.” He says, looking between the pair of you with a gentle smile. One full of adoration.

Your daughter continues to defend her case, insisting that she is ‘smart’ and that it would be 'practice for the future'. She would certainly be trouble in the future, you thought to yourself, looking down at her with a soft smile.

"I can go alone, Father," she murmurs sleepily, making the pair of you laugh. There is no doubt in your mind that she would boss all those Lords around, after all, she has practically grown up in those meetings with her father.

“She’s trying to send you into early retirement my dear.” You smile, looking up at your husband who busies himself with taking off his worn leathers, leaving him in a loose-fitted tunic.

He bends down slightly, his big hand rubbing your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. “She’s succeeding.” He whispers in response before walking over to the window, closing the thick tapestry to keep the warmth in and the cold out.

Mariah rests against you, letting out another yawn as your fingers brush through her hair, she was getting sleepy. However, as soon as Cregan sits down beside you she’s immediately sitting up, holding her arms out for her father expectantly.

“Come here flower.” He whispers, sitting her down on his lap as his fingers begin to braid her hair gently, getting the loose curls out of her eyes.

Your heart swells with love at the sight, the way she desperately tries to keep awake whilst blabbering on about her day to you, her words mushing together as the exhaustion begins to take over.

“Lord Ryswell wasn’t happy about her input on the docks.” Cregan smirks, the fireplace bathes him in a supple light making him glow in contentment that makes you feel a giddiness in your chest.

“I can imagine, he’s always been far too proud.” You whisper, not wanting to wake her up.

He looks down at Mariah, fast asleep curled against his chest, her cheek squashed against the fabric of his tunic. “He’ll just have to deal with it.” He smirks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring you close to him, his lips pressing against your hairline as he enjoys the peace while he can.

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- Hiya my lovelies!! 💕

Please send over some requests for house of the dragon, I’m dying to write for my baby girls <3

Or you can check out my master-list here! for other fandoms, love you lots!! 💕