#outlaw wouldn't be so bad

[fnord888]

I know "everything is kicker" is meme and there are various explanations around for why other keywords are used anyway, but also

Spree is the least kicker "everything is kicker" mechanic. It's not optional!

so did wizards just like. flat run out of new mechanics or like. what's going on with thunder junction and all the keywords being reheated lasagna.

[cobra-salt]

Positivity about positive things is great, though there is something to be said about having a hole to just yell into so you don't get perceived too much and cause trouble even if it's something that wouldn't usually be considered inflammatory or sticking out too much.

[dmitriene]

cw: selling reader to close the debt, groping, kidnapping, dubcon, thoughts of impregnating.

being sold to outlaw könig, just so your daddy would be able to pay his debt to him, and since he had nothing but you, your dad got together to sell your pretty face to this terrible brute of a man, and your life was over about the moment when he brazenly picked you up in his arms and carried you to his horse with a satisfied squint of blue eyes.

you didn't understand why you had to answer for your father's debts, and even though könig ain't tried to harm you, he didn't react to the thick tears running down your cheeks and chin all the road that you were pressed against his chest, whimpering as he roughly squeezed at the softness of your body over your dress, cruel chuckle slipping from beneath the hood at his face.

könig didn't resell you to any other people, ain't even made a slave out of you, he gave you a clean, spacious room that belonged only to you in a house that wasn't bad, clean, looking like he didn't even live there, but instead of thanking him with your innocent eyes and chirping words, you had to run away from him, not knowing what awaits you.

the lingering perverse of his calloused touch on your body everytime he could grope you over your dress, nuzzle his face in your neck even through your shrieks and small kicks of your fists against his muscular chest, könig likes seeing you pick up a fight like a feisty kitten, not knowing that he's a predator there, and you're bounded to be with him.

to wipe puddles of blood on the floor almost everytime he comes back home by the night, stumbling through the doorway, to let him seat you on his beefy lap and press his face in your shoulder, palming at your body through almost translucent fabric of your nightie, doing a little job of hiding the softness of your curves, making his heavy, fattened erection poke in the swell of your ass.

but you wouldn't claw at him if he'd bury his thick cock in your weepy pussy, you can mewl that it's disgusting and he's gross all you want, while bouncing prettily on his fat cock, letting the ridge of his cockhead prod at the sweet, virgin spot in your cunt, your hole pulsing and oozing syrupy slick at every hump of his hips, hands holding onto his huge shoulders, as his rough palms swallow the fat of your asscheeks.

you should be grateful he kept you alive, hübsches lamm, and perhaps if he'll cream your pussy with his thick seed, sending you to sleep in your room with cum soaked panties, you'll be more docile, acting like you never been sold to könig, but belonged to him from the start.

his sweet little wifey, the one he would knock up as soon as possible, and then, you will be tied to him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[hellonearthtoday]

outsiders red dead AU I'm actually crazy about

here's johnny and pony in the au I literally beamed my vision onto my screen like no one's business. anyway AU rambling in the undercut. if you even care

OOOOKAY I'm seriously crazy about this. I need whoever's reading this to LOCK in. Gangs in red dead are just that, but the difference between theeir 1960s counterparts is that they're far less restricted. Because it's the 1800s.

There's a variety of gangs, but the Curtis gang are tighter knit and don't just let anyone join. And by that I mean they haven't opened applications in like 1 gazillion years because they all met when they were young so they're locked in 4 lyfe and don't really trust anyone else because it's actually crazy out here. everyone and their mama has a gun it's like 10x more dangerous to trust the wrong mf also because it's literally the 1800s everybody is wilding

Shepard's gang is also real here and they're a lot more fucked up and evil than Curtis's, but they're also just a lot, lot bigger and have a lot more mouths to feed.

misc facts I don't care to weave into something comprehensible:

- the gang forces Pony to wear his bandana near constantly because he's like the one member of the gang that doesn't have metaphorical chains around their wrists locking them into being an outlaw until they die

- Ponyboy and Johnny's horses, while more drawn to their owners, trust PB and Johnny an equal amount which means they can just switch horses whenever. It's free horse. The rest of the gangs horses are more accustomed to their one rider. Dallys' hates literally everyone. Even Dally. but he's a really good horse to have in a shootout, and Dally likes him.

- Soda loves his horse so bad and he refuses to take him on any real dangerous expeditions. He rides with Darry and his shire horse in those events

- Soda's horse is also the most pampered. And Extremely spoiled

- Two-bits horse has tried to eat his hat on more than five occasions

- Even though they seldom ever have access to one, Steve is a FREAK about automobiles. They're pretty new to the region but if there's ever a chance to get ahold of one in a heist Steve is risking it all to get his hands on one. Even if they don't keep it for long (because it's kind of inefficient in their situation) Steve just likes taking them apart and putting them back together

- Steve's horse hates anything with wheels. inconsolable

- Steve has to ride several paces ahead or behind whenever they're traveling with a wagon because of this. He tried getting another horse at one point, but Idiot (Accidentally named) the Horse wouldn't leave him alone and no other horse liked him.

- Ponyboy used to want to participate in more of the gangs work, but as he got older, the less it appealed to him. Even if he was raised on it

-The Curtis parents unfortunately died a little earlier in this. Darry was seventeen.

[cappulcino]

Where The Wild Things Rest

Read on AO3

Words: 10,122

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Reader

Summary: See prompt here. You're the keep's master of King's Landing and find yourself under the protection of Brienne of Tarth on a quest for medicinal herbs. When a violent ambush leaves Brienne wounded, you seek refuge in an abandoned shack to treat her wounds and wait out the upcoming storm. One thing leads to another, and Brienne gets cared for in more ways than one.

Tags: Slow burn, smut, mutual pining, soft dom!reader

Trigger warnings: NSFW, description of violence, mentions of injuries and blood, graphic description of nudity and explicit sexual content (minors DNI)

A/N: If you're interested, you can find the link to the playlist I listened to while writing here.

"Honestly, Ser, I'm perfectly capable of fetching a few herbs on my own. I doubt the Kingswood has become a den of outlaws overnight."

With one hand resting firmly on the hilt of her sword, Brienne stood unwavering by the gate and her horse, her eyes not unkind but uncompromising on you. You were about to leave the city and had found her there, waiting for you. Apparently, the King himself had asked her to accompany you on your journey, and she would not budge.

"Many refugees and former soldiers have turned to theft and smuggling after the war I'm told, and the forest is less predictable than you'd think."

"I suppose I cannot convince you," you tried.

"No. My orders were clear," Brienne insisted with a firm shake of her head before she buckled her own saddlebag. "His Grace does not want you travelling without a guard."

You sighed, casting a sideways glance toward the treeline where the road to the Kingswood began. You didn't dislike Brienne of Tarth, quite the contrary, but you needed to focus on your mission, and you feared she would be… distracting.

"Well, His Grace worries too much. It'll only be a few bundles of feverfew and willow bark… maybe some yarrow. It's not that valuable and neither am I. The horse is worth more, but–"

"The king believes you are valuable enough, and so do I," Brienne cut you off, taking a brisk step closer. "We have already lost too much. We cannot afford to lose someone with your knowledge and skills. Not now."

She paused briefly and avoided your gaze as she spoke her next words, her voice mellowing ever so slightly.

"Or ever."

You put your hands on your hips and, again, looked into the distance, considering your options.

"Thieves, you say?"

"And smugglers. They might find you an easy target."

You gasped and raised your eyebrows at that statement, only half-feigning the offence showing on your face.

"I did not mean to call you weak," Brienne quickly rectified. "But with your hands full and your attention elsewhere, anyone could come from behind to attack you."

Brienne had a point. You tended to get quite absorbed by any task you undertook and crouching down to pick the herbs wouldn't exactly put you in the best position to retaliate and defend yourself should someone come at you. Still, you didn't understand why the King had appointed his best knight to this mission.

"Very well," you said. "I give up."

You pulled yourself up on your horse and went through the gate, and, from the outer corner of your eye, you saw Brienne letting out a soft exhale. Her apparent relief made you smirk, and you suddenly found yourself thinking that perhaps her company wouldn't be so bad.

For the first hour or so, you both rode in a silence interrupted only by bird songs, your horses' hoofbeats, and the metallic sounds of Brienne's armour. For some reason, she was riding a couple paces behind you and had not uttered a single word since you had left King's Landing.

So you took a halt and turned your horse around to face her, and Brienne, apparently too caught up in her thoughts, almost didn't notice you were no longer advancing and stopped abruptly, a mere pace away from you.

The face she made then and the way she quickly made her horse step back pulled the corner of your lips up once more.

"If we are to spend the day together, we might as well ride side by side," you said. "And maybe talk, get to know each other a little?"

Brienne blinked.

"We have known each other for months already," she replied, furrowing her brow.

"Correction: I know your name and you know mine, I have repaired your armour twice, you constantly refuse the ointments I make for the knights' wounds, and we exchange banalities regarding the keep's security when we cross paths. This is not what qualifies as knowing someone."

Brienne shifted her weight in her saddle, somewhat uncomfortable.

"There isn't much to say."

"Oh, I beg to differ. One cannot become the first female knight of all Westeros, first Lady Commander of the Kingsguard, and say she has no stories to tell."

"My stories have already travelled further and faster across the country than I have."

You weren't sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes at her reluctance to share the slightest bit of information.

"They have indeed," you confirmed. "And I have listened to each of them with great interest. But perhaps you wish to tell me your own version of those accounts, or to share stories yet unknown?"

"I would only be boring you, I'm afraid."

That was it; you rolled your eyes and resumed riding. Brienne could be stubborn as a mule if she wanted, and you couldn't waste the entire day trying to make her understand that you were, in fact, very much interested in anything she would be willing to say.

Brienne stayed frozen in place behind you a couple seconds, trying to make sense of your sudden wish to bond with her before she ordered her horse to catch up with yours in a quick trot, making her armour clank loudly as it did so.

"I don't understand why you would want to get to know me better," she said, now riding to your right.

You snorted softly.

"Evidently."

"An hour ago, you didn't want me around."

"I merely said I didn't need your protection." You glanced sideways at Brienne, and she looked rather disappointed by your constant dismissal, so you quickly added, "But since you must be here, why shouldn't we try to make it enjoyable for us both?"

When Brienne said nothing, you fully turned your head to face her. But she looked away, pretending to survey your surroundings for your safety, and you understood she didn't believe you could truly enjoy her company. The realisation made your heart clench harder than it should.

"Ser Podrick Payne was right," you muttered after a moment of silence.

Brienne's eyes skewered you. She had spent a long time with Podrick back when he was her squire, and she had opened up to him in ways she had rarely done with others. The idea that he could have betrayed her trust and repeated things she didn't want you to know made her blood boil.

"What did he say?" she asked in a clipped voice.

Your expression softened and you offered Brienne a small smile, trying to let her know that she didn't have to worry. Ser Podrick Payne would be the last knight to speak ill of her.

"That you wear more than one armour. And it's a shame."

Again, Brienne didn't reply to your comment. But you saw the crease between her eyebrows relax ever so slightly, and it gave you enough hope that, by the end of the day, she would trust you enough to let you in.

Another hour had passed, and you were now in the Kingswood, keeping your eyes peeled for the herbs you needed to gather.

Brienne still hadn't spoken much, but your genuine softness towards her had somewhat appeased her and you had been pleasantly surprised to find out that while she wasn't one to talk about herself so much, she could be a good listener –one who seemed keen on hearing about anything you had to say.

And so, in the past hour, you had answered many of her questions and told her about your childhood –what you remembered of it, at least–, where you had learnt about the duties of a keep's master, how the King had come to appoint you. And Brienne listened to each reply, with great intent, it seemed.

"Look, feverfew," you said, suddenly putting an end to your monologue.

Brienne followed your gaze and noticed the little white flowers blooming by the trail, right where the sunlight filtered through the trees.

"There is never enough of it in our inventory," you added as you pulled on the reins before handing them to Brienne. "Here. Would you hold onto Galewind for me? He likes to run away when I'm not looking."

Brienne gathered her own reins in her right hand before reaching with her left to grab yours. And as you handed over Galewind's reins, your fingers brushed against Brienne's –a fleeting contact, yet enough to make you pause.

You glanced up at her face, momentarily struck by the unexpected tenderness of the touch while Brienne's eyes flicked down to where your fingers had touched her hand, her expression unreadable. She shifted slightly in her saddle, her lips parting as though to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she only nodded, assuring you your horse was in good hands.

"Thank you. He can be stubborn," you said as you dismounted before clearing your throat in an attempt to chase the awkwardness away.

"Of course," Brienne replied, her tone uncharacteristically soft.

You walked to the feverfew and knelt down to examine the flowers, but your mind lingered on that moment. True, you had "known" Brienne for a while now, yet she remained as much an enigma up close as the stories had painted her from afar. But with what had just happened, you considered for the first time how much strength and gentleness seemed to coexist in her –and you weren't entirely sure she wanted others to notice that other side of her.

From behind, you could feel her eyes on you, watchful and cautious, as if she were guarding more than just your back. A flicker of something stirred in your chest, but you pushed it aside. There were herbs to gather, and you didn't have time for silly, fleeting thoughts –not now, anyway.

A couple of hours later, you had already gathered quite a good amount of herbs and were enjoying the slow ride along the trail when the soft sound of rushing water caught your attention. Glancing toward the noise, you spotted a narrow stream cutting through the trees. At first, you only admired how the water glittered in the sunlight. But then your eyes honed in on a cluster of tall plants nestled on the far bank.

"Motherwort," you murmured, almost to yourself, before halting. "That's a rare find."

You then turned towards Brienne as she stopped beside you and winked at her.

"Perhaps it is you bringing me luck. I shall take you with me more often."

"What is it used for?" Brienne asked to create a diversion from your comment –though the brief clenching of her jaw and the faint blush on her cheeks seemed to indicate you had actually hit the target.

"Oh, many things if you know how to prepare it. But mainly female health."

Brienne nodded in a detached way as if she didn't even feel concerned, and you went back to the matter at hand.

"But it's on the other side of the stream and at this time of year, that water is freezing. I'd rather not risk crossing."

Brienne tilted her head.

"Why not have Galewind jump it? He would clear it."

"Not without trampling the herbs," you pointed out, stroking your horse's neck. "Besides, he has a habit of… misjudging his landings."

Brienne arched an eyebrow in a somewhat judgemental manner, wondering why you insisted on riding this colt if he had that many flaws. This time, you were the one ignoring her and you turned back to the stream, trying to think of another solution.

"We'll have to find a way across."

Brienne's expression shifted, her eyes scanning the area before landing on a large fallen tree a few paces away. She pointed at it.

"What about that?"

You blinked.

"The trunk? Ser, that thing must weigh more than both of us combined."

But Brienne had already dismounted, her boots crunching on the damp soil as she walked toward the tree with purpose.

"I'll manage."

You watched, half in awe, as she planted her feet and bent down to grip the log. Her arms strained, muscles shifting under her tunic and armour, yet she dragged the trunk closer to the stream swiftly and made it look almost effortless, rotating it until one end caught against the bank.

"That should hold," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face and staining her pale forehead with a bit of dirt. "I'll cross first."

You kept looking at her as she stepped onto the log with care. The wood creaked under her weight, but she moved steadily, her balance precise. When she reached the other side, she turned back and gestured.

"Your turn."

You still hadn't dismounted and hesitated. Brienne could leave her mare without a care in the world, but you had had to chase Galewind too many times to do the same without worry.

"I told you my horse liked to wander off."

"He's grazing," Brienne pointed out. "He'll be fine for five minutes."

You sighed, reluctantly getting off your saddle and stepping onto the makeshift bridge. The bark was slippery from the recent rain, and the rushing water below only made it harder to concentrate.

About halfway across, you noticed Brienne offering a hand and you looked up. But the sight of her muscular silhouette waiting for you made you lose what little focus you had left since that fortuitous skin contact, and your foot slipped, causing a yelp to escape your lips.

Before you could topple, the same firm hand grabbed your arm. Brienne hauled you upright with ease, pulling you against her steel-covered chest. Your heart was still pounding as you looked up at her to find her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice once again unusually soft.

"Just my pride," you muttered, realising how your hands had instinctively gripped her shoulders for balance. "Thank you."

Brienne's lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile and her hand lingered on your arm a moment longer than necessary before she seemed to realise what she was doing and let go of you.

"Well, go on, then. The herbs."

"Uhm, yes. Of course."

You took a step back, re-establishing a proper distance between the two before you went and crouched by the patch of motherwort, carefully snipping the stems and placing them into your satchel.

"We should follow the stream," you said on your way back to your horse –which, thankfully, had deemed the grass much more interesting than running away. "Many herbs that I need grow where the soil is wetter. Then maybe we can stop somewhere to rest for a bit. You brought something to eat, yeah?" You asked, not wanting to waste time hunting.

"I did."

"Good. Then let's go. And, well… Thank you again for not letting me fall, Ser."

"You're welcome," Brienne said, visibly content to be of some help to you. "And if it pleases you… Brienne's enough."

The stream widened into a river ahead, its current rippling faster over smooth stones. On the banks, the graceful bows of willow trees dipped toward the stream, their leaves fluttering like whispers in the breeze. You tugged on Galewind's reins and pointed to a flat patch of grass beneath one of the trees.

"We should stop here. I need some willow bark, and the rocks will make decent seats."

Brienne agreed and dismounted with ease, then cast a practised eye around the clearing before securing her horse to a sturdy branch. You followed her lead, double-checking Galewind's knot.

"No escapade this time. Right, big boy?"

From your satchel, you pulled out two modest bundles wrapped in cloth. Brienne joined you as you settled on a smooth rock close to the river's edge. The air wasn't too chilly when the wind calmed down and it carried the faint scent of damp earth and leaves that had decomposed during winter. For a moment, the two of you sat quietly, the sound of the rushing river filling the space between.

Then, breaking the silence, you gestured to Brienne's meal.

"What'd you bring?"

Brienne unwrapped her bundle: strips of dried meat, a hunk of bread, and a slice of cheese. She glanced at yours, which displayed colourful slices of carrots and radishes nestled beside cured meat.

"If that's not a proper knight's meal…" you teased lightly, breaking your bread.

Brienne didn't reply, but her lips twitched –an almost-smile that warmed you more than you cared to admit.

You looked up to see movement on the opposite bank. A magnificent deer had emerged from the undergrowth, its antlers rising like branches. Its coat was sleek and golden, catching the sunlight in a way that seemed almost unreal.

"Look at that," you breathed, leaning forward. "Isn't he magnificent?"

Brienne lifted her head, her expression impassive as she studied the creature.

"He'd make good stew," she said matter-of-factly.

You blinked, startled, before a loud, genuine laugh escaped you.

"You cannot possibly look at that majestic creature and think... stew!"

Brienne's straightforwardness, combined with the absolute seriousness in her tone, was too endearing to be frustrating.

"Do you see beauty in anything at all? Or just potential dinner?" you asked as your laughter slowly died.

Brienne's brow furrowed, and for a moment, you thought you'd offended her. But then she spoke, her voice quieter than before.

"My father had a fondness for deer. He liked how graceful, quiet, and watchful they were." She looked back toward the forest, her expression softening. "He also said does reminded him of my mother." A pause. Then, almost to herself: "I never knew her well enough to say if he was right. I never knew her at all."

The unexpected vulnerability caught you off guard. You held your breath, not wanting to disturb the moment. For once Brienne dared to talk, so you would let her. Her gaze remained on the deer, now grazing on the other side of the river.

"Once, when I was little, he found a fawn tangled in some brambles. It must have been abandoned, it was too weak to fight. He carried it home and we tended to it for weeks, feeding it by hand. He told me he wanted to teach me the gentleness my mother could no longer teach me and how to care for the weak. He said even the smallest life deserved consideration."

You kept staring at her, struck by the tenderness in her voice.

"What happened to the fawn?" you asked softly.

"It got strong enough to run." Brienne shrugged, her expression hardening slightly. "One day, it left. I suppose it went back to the forest."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The deer on the far bank raised its head, as though sensing your attention, before darting gracefully into the woods. Brienne turned back to her meal, the shutters of her composure sliding back into place.

"That was a long time ago," she said as she briefly shook her head, her tone almost dismissive. "And then my father taught me how to fight instead."

You wanted to say something, maybe tell her both her parents would be proud of the woman, the knight she had become. That, in a way, she still took care of the weak. But the words felt too heavy for the moment, so you swallowed them.

Instead, your gaze fell back to her meal and you decided to try to lift the spirits.

"You know, I don't see a single vegetable in there," you said, a teasing lilt in your voice. "Here, have this."

You plucked a bright chunk of carrot from your bundle and held it out to her. Sensing her confusion, you insisted, jerking the vegetable in her direction.

"They make you loveable, you know."

Brienne frowned.

"Loveable?"

"Absolutely. People see you munching on a carrot, and they think, 'There's someone approachable.'"

Brienne stared at you, her lips parting slightly as though to protest, but then the words tumbled out. Now she was offended.

"I don't suppose I seem approachable to most," she said as she snatched the piece of carrot from your hand and glanced away, her voice stiff. "I try to be better, more gentle. Like my father first wanted me to be. But... I'm just not."

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession.

"Brienne, I–"

She barrelled on, as if afraid to let you interrupt.

"I'm too blunt. Too hard. Pod was right about what he told you. And since travelling with him, I've tried to be better. I've tried with many people, but… Maybe if I were different, I–"

"Brienne, stop."

Your voice was soft but firm, and it made her pause. You leaned closer, meeting her gaze.

"You don't have to change. Not for anyone. You're perfectly fine as is."

Her expression faltered, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes.

"You don't mean that. No one–"

"But I do. I like you. Just the way you are." You said it simply, but the conviction in your tone made Brienne gawk at you, stunned into silence.

Only then did you notice the smudge of dirt on her forehead. It made you smile.

"But if you do want to change one thing, maybe start with that dirt on your face."

Her hand shot up as her cheeks turned crimson, and she awkwardly wiped at her forehead. But instead of cleaning it, she only managed to smear the dirt even further. You chuckled, pulling a cloth from your satchel.

"Here, let me."

"I'm fine."

"Clearly… Now stop whining, and let me help."

You reached up, the cloth brushing her skin as you wiped the dirt away. She stilled under your touch, her eyes locked on yours, and the air between you suddenly grew heavy with unspoken things.

In the silence that followed, your gaze lingered. Brienne had always appeared to you as striking in her own way –an unpolished charm she seemed intent on hiding beneath layers of stoicism and practicality. But here, now, with the golden sunlight catching in the loose strands of her hair and the silver gleam of the water reflected in her eyes, she looked... ethereal.

It wasn't just her appearance that caught you, though that alone was enough to leave you momentarily breathless. It was that, for the first time, she felt closer, not the distant figure of knightly legend but a woman, warm and real, and achingly human.

Your thoughts wandered to places you hadn't allowed them to go before. Had they been there all along, quietly waiting, or was this the first time you truly left your mind unbridled? Either way, you found it impossible to look away, and something deep in your chest stirred, a pang you didn't want to understand but couldn't ignore.

But then came the sound of snapping twigs, interrupting the beauty of the moment. Brienne's head whipped around, and her hand instinctively moved to her sword.

"Someone's here," she muttered, her voice low and sharp.

You both stood up as six men emerged from the trees, their faces covered by hoods or old helmets, their intent clear in the way their hands rested on their weapons. One, slightly older with a jagged scar tracing his jawline, stepped forward.

"Nice horses," he said, his tone almost conversational, though his grin was anything but friendly. "And a nice haul of herbs, too. You've saved us the trouble of finding our own."

He then looked you up and down in a way that repulsed you so much you found yourself shivering and added, "Maybe we'll take that one back to the camp, too. And your money."

"Leave now," Brienne commanded, "and no harm will come to you."

The leader chuckled, glancing at his companions who sniggered as well.

"That's rich, coming from one damsel against men like us. And no helmet? Bold choice."

Brienne's hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, her gaze never leaving the man. She turned her head slightly, just enough to murmur to you, "Get behind those trees and stay out of sight."

"But–"

"Go," she snapped, her tone brooking no argument. "I'll handle this."

Reluctantly, you obeyed, slipping behind a thick oak as the tension in the air snapped like a drawn bowstring.

The scarred leader barely had time to shout an order before Brienne's sword slid out of its scabbard with a metallic hiss. 

She surged forward, her blade arcing in a precise downward cut. The man nearest her, wielding a rusted mace, barely raised it in time to block the blow. The force sent him staggering backwards, but Brienne pressed her advantage. She kicked his knee with her boot, sending him to the ground with a cry.

Another man darted in from her right, swinging a short sword. Brienne pivoted, deflecting the strike with her armoured forearm before slashing across his chest. Blood sprayed, and he collapsed.

The youngest of the group, barely more than a boy, took one look at Brienne's bloodied sword and at the two downed companions before turning tail. His cowardice earned him a curse from the leader, who was now advancing on Brienne.

"Get her!" he barked, drawing his own blade.

Brienne turned to face him, but the man she had kicked earlier had regained his feet. With a snarl, he swung his mace into her exposed flank. The dull thud of impact echoed in the clearing as Brienne fell to the ground, her breath catching.

"Brienne!"

From your hiding spot, you watched the fight unfold, your chest tightening with every blow she took. She moved with precision and strength, but there were too many of them. The man's mace strike had slowed her down, and you saw the hesitation in her steps. You gripped the tree bark, your heart pounding and feeling utterly useless.

The leader lunged, and Brienne barely managed to parry his sword in time before slamming her fist repeatedly in his face. Groaning, he reeled back long enough for Brienne to roll them over.

She was about to punch him some more when one of his accomplices grabbed her from behind and pulled her back to her feet, attempting to strangle her. She once again freed herself by pushing her elbow into his ribs before driving her shoulder into his chest and forcefully crushing him between her armour and a tree.

The leader, weakened but still willing, charged at her with his sword. Brienne raised her blade to shield herself from his attack, but the movement left her vulnerable and allowed a fist to crash above her eyebrow. She stumbled, a cut opening and blood trickling into her eye.

Yet, through it all, she didn't stop. She growled, planting her feet and driving the leader back with a series of quick, precise strikes. Her sword then found his thigh, cutting deep. He crumpled to the ground with a scream, clutching the wound.

"Enough, dammit!" He cried out. "We're done!"

One of the others pulled him by the arm and dragged him away followed by the last uninjured men, leaving their fallen comrades groaning in the dirt. Brienne stayed still, her chest heaving, sword raised in readiness until they disappeared into the trees. And then, as though the fight had drained the last of her strength, she dropped her sword and fell to her knees, her breaths ragged.

"Brienne!" you yelled, coming out of your hiding spot to lunge by her side.

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth, attempting to wave you off.

Obviously ignoring that lie, you looped an arm under hers and did your best to haul her upright, the effort straining every muscle. Even without the steel plating, Brienne was solid as stone, and the armour made her nearly impossible to move. You groaned and so did she, her strength faltering as she slumped heavily against you.

The sky that had already turned grey during the fight chose this moment to crack open with rain.

"Of course," you muttered bitterly.

As if getting Brienne back to the horses wasn't hard enough, the rain would soon start to make her armour slippery and you weren't sure you would manage at all.

"Do you think you can get up?" you asked Brienne as you reached her horse.

"Yes…"

But Brienne half-lifted herself before sagging back, too weak to climb.

"It's alright, let me help."

You tried a couple times to lift Brienne up so she could get on her saddle but to no avail. Her armour made her too heavy and her horse was too tall –you lacked the strength to pull her onto a mount so high.

"Seven hells," you cursed when Brienne fell back down for the third time.

"I'm sorry…"

"No. Don't you dare be sorry, Brienne."

Turning around to look at Galewind, you wondered if you should try to get Brienne onto him instead –he was shorter after all.

Galewind's ears flicked toward you and suddenly, as if sensing your desperation, he bent his forelegs to the damp ground and shifted lower.

You barely believed it but had no time to marvel, and promptly guided Brienne to push her onto his back. Her weight nearly sent you sprawling, but this time, you miraculously managed.

"Good boy," you murmured, patting Galewind's neck once Brienne was secured into place. "Hold on, will you?" you told her.

As you hopped on Brienne's horse –which displeased the mare, though she chose not to make a fuss–, you took a second to look at the darkening sky above you and assess the situation. The wind only seemed to bring more charcoal clouds, with no hope for clearing in the distance.

Returning to King's Landing wasn't an option with Brienne in this state, and you wanted to be gone before more men came back for their wounded peers –if they ever did.

Think, you urged yourself. Then you remembered seeing a cabin a league back, just off the path. A forester's or healer's shack, maybe, abandoned but intact enough to provide sufficient shelter.

"Hold on, Brienne," you repeated, as much for yourself as for her, urging the horses forward.

The ride was somewhat gruelling because of the stress it caused you as you saw how Brienne kept swaying dangerously with each step every time you turned around. But Galewind almost seemed to understand he needed to be careful and to have forgotten his fugitive tendencies. Your heart ached for Brienne, perhaps in disproportionate measures, but you had no time to think about this now.

By the time you reached the cabin, the rain was a steady downpour, soaking through your cloak and threatening to make Brienne slip off the saddle. So you pulled both horses to a halt and dismounted with haste to help her down.

She leaned heavily on you, her breaths laboured, as the two of you staggered toward the door. Kicking it open, you guided her to the straw bed there was thankfully still inside. She slumped onto it with a groan, her head lolling back as exhaustion overtook her.

"Stay with me," you ordered in a whisper as you brushed a strand of wet hair from her face before running back out to get your satchels and herbs.

You felt guilty for leaving the horses out in such weather, they could get seriously sick. But you had no choice and other priorities –well, one priority.

Back in the shack, you moved with purpose, thoughts reeling as you began to work.

"First things first, fire," you said, needing to enunciate everything you were doing to keep your mind from wandering back to the feelings Brienne had strangely ignited inside you.

You noticed a pile of firewood under a dirty cloth next to the stone hearth and threw a few logs into it. The air was damp for the rain, and your fingers fumbled over the tinder you had also found nearby. It took quite a good amount of tries, but finally sparks caught, flames flickered, and the fire took.

"Good."

As you rummaged to find something to put some water to boil, you couldn't help but keep glancing at Brienne, slumped on the straw bed. You were worried sick for her.

"No sleeping yet, Brienne. You hear me?"

Brienne didn't answer and it got you even more worried, but you kept working.

At last, you found a stewpot and a clay basin.

"Perfect."

It wasn't ideal, but you decided the quickest way to gather water. You would boil it anyway so it would be drinkable. So you took the stewpot outside and left it there. As you did so, your eyes landed on a patch of stinging nettle. You decided it could be useful and harvested a few handfuls.

Back inside once more, you grabbed the satchels you had brought in, pulling out the gathered herbs that you methodically placed on the dusty table next to the stinging nettle.

You glanced at Brienne once more, and her pallor was far from reassuring. But then again, she had always had an extremely fair complexion –one of the things you found most beautiful about her.

Your heart ached to see her like this, though you were silently commending her for defending you against those thieves. She had fought so hard, so bravely… Those men had never stood a chance –in your eyes anyway.

"Brienne…" you called out softly as you approached the bed she was lying on.

"I'm fine."

"You are anything but."

"You worry too much."

Brienne's voice was hoarse so you walked back to the table to grab your flask in your bag. You had almost no water left, but Brienne needed to drink.

"Open up," you urged, slipping an arm under her shoulders to lift her. "Don't make me pour it down your throat."

Your tone –half-teasing, half-desperate– made Brienne huff, enough to let you tip the flask against her lips. She drank sluggishly but obediently, her eyelids fluttering as her body resisted consciousness. Then you laid her back down gently.

"Will you let me take off your armour? You can't breathe properly like this."

Brienne nodded weakly and you moved tentatively to undo the straps of her armour. But your hands were shaking and you found yourself struggling, until a rugged hand reached for yours, brushing almost tenderly against your fingers.

"Leave it," Brienne rasped. "I can do it."

You weren't so sure about that but let Brienne work out those straps. It was embarrassing for you as you were supposed to know how to deal with that kind of equipment, and your cheeks slightly turned pink. You counted on the dark and Brienne's poor state to hide the blush.

Brienne pulled on the straps and they seemed to fall right off. You cleared your throat and thanked her with a silent nod as she let her arms fall back on the bed. Then you started by removing her gorget, pauldrons, and rerebraces, setting each piece down nearby with care.

The cuirass' turn then came, and you couldn't help but wince in sympathy when you heard Brienne hiss.

"Sorry…" you muttered, though you knew the word wouldn't help.

Brienne shook her head as if to dismiss your apology and groaned through gritted teeth, her fingers clutching her arming doublet. You quickly understood that her abdomen was injured and that any heavy layer caused discomfort. So you took the padded jacket off as well and folded it into a makeshift pillow for Brienne.

"Better?"

"Yes."

With that done, you decided to let Brienne rest for a moment and got back to work. First, you retrieved the stewpot from outside, now brimming with rainwater, and set it over the fire. Once the water was finally boiling, you scooped some into the clay basin and set it aside. Some of the water would be used for a willow bark and stinging nettle decoction, and some for a comfrey poultice. The latter would help with the bruising, the former was for pain relief. Yarrow would help with the bleeding, too.

You crushed the willow bark and stinging nettle between your fingers and sprinkled them into the stewpot with practised precision. You let the mixture simmer and moved on to the comfrey root, crushing it into a thick paste in the clay basin with the handle of your dagger. Finally, you sat at the old table to pluck the yarrow leaves you needed from the stems.

It was only as you caught yourself staring at the remedies that you realised Brienne's breathing had slowed down.

"Hey, no, no, no!" you commanded as you rushed back to her side. "I said no sleeping yet."

"I'm only resting my eyes."

"Later. When I'm sure you're alright."

Brienne shifted a bit to be more comfortable then and hissed again, her face contorting as she grabbed her stomach. You had to take a look.

"Alright. Uh, Brienne…" you said, your voice much softer now, almost a whisper. "I have to check your wounds. And your tunic… It has to come off, or I cannot treat you properly."

Brienne's brow furrowed faintly and she turned her head away from you, stubbornness lingering despite her exhaustion.

"Please, Brienne," you insisted, your fingers now hovering hesitantly near the hem of her tunic. "I will only do what's necessary. Nothing more, I swear."

A long moment passed before she gave the faintest nod, and you pulled the fabric up and away, trying to keep your touch clinical despite the sudden heat rising to your cheeks. You expected another layer beneath, but there was only bandaging, tightly wound around her chest and soaked with blood. Practical, efficient, and utterly intimate in a way you hadn't anticipated. Your breath hitched and you looked away immediately, your face now crimson.

As keep master, you spent many hours a week in the infirmary and had seen many people in various stages of undress. But for some reason you had yet to understand –or rather, yet to admit to yourself–, it all felt much different with Brienne.

"I-Is that… from an older wound?" you stammered, pointing at the blood stain on Brienne's ribs.

Brienne followed your gaze.

"Yes."

"We… We'll deal with those later."

You took a deep breath in to compose yourself, and let your eyes roam as professionally as you could over Brienne's body trying to assess her injuries, then tentatively brought trembling fingers to her bruises, starting with those on her collarbones. Thankfully, they weren't broken and nor were the ribs above her breasts either, so you moved on, checking her arms and hands from every angle. You could feel Brienne trying to keep her body limp, abandoning herself to your expert hands, trusting you completely.

Once you were certain she had no broken bones or dislocated limbs, you carefully let your fingers slide over her abdomen, stopping here and there to apply gentle pressure and check for deeper damage, and wincing at every hiss she couldn't suppress.

Eventually, you reached Brienne's hips and lower abdomen, and she flinched and let out a soft gasp when your fingers dipped right between her navel and pelvis. You froze and your eyes shot up, meeting Brienne's for a brief instant –a fleeting second that still felt like an eternity– before turning away. 

"Did that hurt?"

"No, not really," Brienne replied, her voice low and still roughened by fatigue. "Carry on."

You nodded, willing yourself to stay focused, then went and retrieved a piece of cloth from your bag –you always had a few, just in case– and plunged it in hot water before coming back to sit by Brienne's side on the straw bed.

"I need to clean those wounds before I can treat them."

Brienne took a sharp, shaky breath as if needing to compose herself, too, and you began gently cleaning the cuts and scrapes on her hands and face. She had one particular cut over her left eyebrow that you knew would need more than one yarrow leaf. You dabbed at it and, as you did so, glanced at her eyes again. With the flames that danced in the hearth lighting up her face, they looked like clear skies pierced by a winter's sunset. You were captivated, bewitched. But you cast those thoughts aside –now wasn't the time.

Pulling away, you went to fetch the processed herbs, then made her drink a bit of decoction and sat down again before busying yourself with applying the poultice.

"This will help with the bruising," you explained needlessly, now avoiding Brienne's gaze.

"You're kind. Too kind, perhaps," she suddenly said.

You glanced up, startled by the softness in her tone.

"You would do the same for me."

"Aye. But not with such… tenderness."

With the way your heartbeat quickened and each breath seemed harder to take than the previous one, you felt as if the air had considerably thickened.

Searching for a safer ground, you added, "Tenderness is the least I can offer someone who has risked everything for me. Besides, we cannot afford to lose someone with your knowledge and skills. Not now. Not ever."

The words managed to make Brienne smile faintly. But the corners of her mouth quickly fell back down when she noticed you setting the poultice aside and glancing at her bandages. She knew what your expression meant.

"I… I need to check that wound, too. I don't want it to get infected," you said, confirming her thoughts. "May I…"

Brienne's jaw tightened, but she nodded once more. You carefully unwound the binding, the linen sticking stubbornly to the flesh. She tensed but didn't complain.

Controlling your breathing became harder at the sight of her completely bare chest. Her breasts were small, but you couldn't help the thought crossing your mind that they would fit perfectly in a palm –your palm.

Mentally berating yourself for such a lewd thought in such a grave moment as this one, you gently poked around the reopened scar to see how it was healing. You thought about asking Brienne how she had got it to distract you both from what you were doing, but no words came out, and you figured it was best if she didn't waste her energy anyway.

Leaning over her, your breath tickled her skin lightly and, as you dabbed the wound with the damp cloth, your attention got caught by the goosebumps on her skin and her nipples, peaked and taut in the cool air. You immediately averted your eyes, your face burning once more.

"Are you cold?"

"N-No," Brienne stuttered awkwardly after a while as rosy patches formed on her neck and across her upper chest.

The single syllable hung between you, heavy and impossible to ignore.

"You're so different…" Brienne eventually whispered out of nowhere.

You didn't dare ask what she meant. Instead, you rested a reassuring hand on hers, careful but steady.

"Rest now. I'll be here."

"I thought–"

"Rest. I still need to apply yarrow leaves here and there but you can close your eyes now."

Brienne's eyes drifted shut, and her fingers brushed yours before dropping still. You watched the firelight dance across her face and her chest, rising and falling steadily.

Your thoughts churned as you placed crushed yarrow leaves on her face, scraped knuckles, and chest, and adjusted your cloak as a blanket over her, unable to suppress a silent ache of longing and gratitude. Brienne was strong, stubborn, yet startlingly vulnerable and… well, excruciatingly beautiful in her own, unconventional way.

Truth was, Brienne had always unsettled something deep within you, something you had never dared name. You had told yourself time and time again that it was merely admiration, respect for her strength, her relentless honour. But you would be lying if you said there hadn't been nights when her image had haunted you, unbidden and unrelenting –so much that your mind and hands had gone to forbidden places.

You loved the sharpness of her jaw, the fierce intensity in her eyes, and the way she rode her horse with effortless grace despite her imposing frame. Of course, you had long dismissed such thoughts as impossible, shameful even. And yet, seeing her now –scarred, undeniably her and, above all, naked–, the ache you had buried carved its way back to the surface.

The soft rustling of straw pulled you from your thoughts. Brienne stirred, blinking groggily as her gaze landed on you. You straightened abruptly, anxiously waiting for a reaction. Brienne's brows knit in confusion before she noticed your cloak draped across her bare chest.

"You didn't have to," she said, clutching to the hem of it as if the gesture meant more than she let on. Her expression softened –not quite a smile, but something dangerously close. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I'm not sure," you said, standing up to go fill your flask with more decoction and bring it back to Brienne. As she sipped from it, you added, "I had time to add two other logs to the fire and replace the leaves, though."

Brienne glanced at the dirty window near the bed and hummed. The sun was still hiding behind dark clouds, but what little light filtered through them did at a much different angle than when you had first laid her down.

"I'm sorry I left you alone all that time," she muttered.

"Nonsense. You needed to rest. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Better, much better. Thanks to you."

"I'm glad."

Brienne's gaze lingered on your face with an intensity that made your chest tighten. Determined to regain control, you focused on your task.

"Let me recheck your wounds."

You gently lifted the cloak, mindful to avoid staring at Brienne's breasts again –though her nipples were still deliciously hard– and started cleaning the poultice before inspecting each bruise and scrape with the same care as before.

Brienne kept watching you, smiling ever so slightly at the line that had formed between your eyebrows while you peeled the yarrow leaves off her cuts and scrapes –on her hands first, then on her chest. Finally, you reached for the leaf above her brow. Carefully, you set it aside, then leaned in to examine the cut.

It looked good and had stopped bleeding. But before you could say anything about it, Brienne's hands shot up to cradle your face. She pulled you down firmly then and her lips crashed into yours, fierce, urgent, leaving no room for doubt.

Your breath hitched as Brienne's lips claimed yours, heat surged through you, from your face down to your chest. But then a thought struck like a blade.

So you pulled back, trembling. Not because you didn't want her –you did, you ached for her– but because the world spun too fast. Brienne. Brienne of fucking Tarth… kissing you? You had never dared believe she could want someone like you –or anyone at all, really.

Did she mean this, or was it just a fleeting need, a desperate attempt to feel something other than pain? Was she seeking comfort, something temporary and raw after coming yet again so close to death?

Brienne saw your hesitation and expression twisted painfully, then hardened into something bitter. She scoffed, the sound as sharp as steel grinding on stone.

"Of course," she spat, voice cracking. "Kind words, soft touches… They meant nothing. What was I thinking?"

"Brienne…"

"What an utter fool I am! I should've known. Men mock me, women pity me, even you."

"What? No, I–"

"Don't. You needn't spare my feelings."

"That's not what I–"

"Save it!" Brienne snapped, fists clenched tightly around your cloak. "Everything you have to say, I've heard it all before. I thought maybe, maybe this time… I should have known better."

Before she could retreat deeper into her wounded thoughts, you were the one to crush your lips to hers. She gasped, trembling beneath you and hesitated for a moment, then kissed you back just as hungrily, fingers tangling in your hair like she feared you might vanish. There was no hesitation this time, but though the kiss was passionate, your hands cupped her face delicately and your thumbs brushed over her cheeks as if she were made of glass.

"I wasn't pulling away because I don't want you, Brienne," you confessed when you broke the kiss for air. "I pulled away because I do. More than you know. And I'm scared. Scared that my passion may cause you pain, scared this might not mean what I want it to mean."

Brienne's breath shuddered against your lips as her fingers loosened their desperate grip on your hair, sliding down to your jaw with surprising tenderness. Her eyes searched yours, still wary but now lit with something… alive.

"Do you think I'm not scared, too?" she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. "I've never… I mean, I have but not like this."

"We can take this slowly if you–"

Brienne shook her head impatiently, then tilted her chin so her lips grazed yours.

"I'm tired of not taking what I want. So, if you'll have me…"

"Yes. Gods, yes."

Something inside you snapped. You claimed her mouth in a kiss far deeper, more insistent. You worried about her wounds and feared she might be in pain, but she met you with equal intensity, pulling you down even closer.

Your hands slid down from her face to her shoulders and bruised collarbones, then lower, finding the strong muscles of her arms that had briefly held you up earlier today. You traced them as if committing them to memory, marvelling at the sheer power contained within her tall silhouette.

Brienne shivered under your touch, and a low, involuntary sound rumbled from her throat as your fingers brushed her bare skin. Emboldened, you let one of your hands travel more daringly to the swell of her breast, enjoying how good it indeed felt in your palm. The sound she made in response sent more heat coursing through you, this time pooling in your belly.

For the first time, you were acutely aware of the heat radiating from her skin and the steady thrum of her heartbeat. When she arched her back to press herself against your body, you seized the occasion to let your mouth trail from her mouth to her jawline, then down the column of her neck, nipping and licking at her pulse point, all the while you made her nipple roll under your thumb.

"Please," Brienne begged, though it seemed she wasn't too sure what for.

But you knew.

"I want to see you," you whispered seductively. "All of you. Touch you everywhere I can."

Brienne's only response was a weak groan and a faint roll of her hips. The vulnerability of the gesture, the trust it implied, sent a jolt of arousal through you. Driven by those sweet sounds, you lowered your mouth, capturing one sensitive nipple while your hand lavished attention on the other. Her fingers tangled in your hair once more, holding you close as she whispered your name like a prayer to both the old gods and the new.

Then, in a matter of seconds –you weren't exactly sure how but you didn't care–, you were both fully naked. You took Brienne's other nipple in your mouth while her hands slid down to your waist. The touch was a bit tentative, as though she feared you might withdraw again. But when you didn't, when instead you leaned into her touch, she grew bolder and her hands tugged you down until you were straddling her.

"Brienne, your bruises…"

"I don't care."

You stopped for a moment to make sure she wasn't lying or trying to be brave, but the eagerness in her eyes and the way she repeatedly pushed her hips into yours encouraged you to keep going.

So you started rolling your hips as well, gently, letting your cores meet for the first time. Brienne's head jerked backwards and arched her back even more, and you could only marvel at the magnificent chiaroscuro the fire burning on the other side of the room created on her alabaster skin.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured as you leaned in again to kiss her temple.

Then you moved to her brow bone and planted gentle kisses around the cut there, a painful reminder of how valiantly she had fought for you.

"So strong…"

With the way she whimpered then, you understood Brienne only half-believed your words but secretly liked to be praised. So you kept showering her with compliments while your hands explored her, tracing every bruise, every scar, every place she might have thought unworthy of touch.

"Keep going," she demanded, voice raw with need.

You obeyed, sliding your hand lower, over the firm lines of her abdomen, until you reached her thighs and the heat between them. Brienne hissed then, and your head shot up.

"Is that not alright?"

"No, it's just… Your hands are cold," she admitted.

"Forgive me."

You pulled back and lifted your hand so you could warm your fingers in your mouth, but Brienne snatched your wrist and brought them to her own lips instead. Her eyelids fluttered as her tongue ran over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, and the sight made you groan.

"Heavens…"

You brought your hand back down between her thighs again, and this time, her breath shattered into a broken moan as your fingers parted her folds, finding her slick and ready. You circled her clit –slowly, at first–, savouring how she writhed beneath you, her body offering no resistance, only hunger.

"Gods, yes!"

Brienne kept moaning and calling your name like a desperate mantra, her legs instinctively parting wider the more you stimulated her bundle of nerves. You watched as she bucked against your hand, her breath coming in ragged gasps, then leaned down again to pepper her body with more pecks and nibbles, kissing her injuries better.

When you finally pushed a finger inside her, Brienne cursed like you never thought could be possible, and her hips rose to meet your thrusts. You set a slow, deliberate rhythm, drawing out every shudder, every broken moan. Then your thumb found her clit, circling with just enough pressure to make her tremble uncontrollably.

"Oh, fuck!"

The more you pumped into her, the more you could feel Brienne lowering her inhibitions and finally being her most genuine self.

"More! I need more!"

What a demanding dame, you thought as your finger kept sliding in and out of Brienne's warm depth. But she had told you she didn't want to wait to get what she wanted any more, so you indulged her and pulled your hand back until you could ease your ring finger inside her as well. Brienne was so relaxed and wet by now that it took practically no effort at all.

Brienne wailed loudly as your fingers stretched her, filling her with a heavenly ache she seemed desperate for. Her thighs quivered against your sides, strong muscles twitching uncontrollably with every deliberate thrust as you slightly picked up the pace. You could feel her slick juices coating your hand as you drove deeper and curled your fingers just right to hit that sensitive spot inside her.

"Right here! Don't stop!" she cried out, voice breaking with unprecedented pleasure.

Your wrist began to hurt, but you obeyed, setting a relentless rhythm, your thumb pressing harder against her swollen clit. You felt like you had no right to be tired when she had not once spared herself for you. So you kept going.

Suddenly, Brienne's leg shifted between yours, pressing firmly against your core.

"Gods, Brienne…"

The pressure made your head spin, your body involuntarily rolling against her muscular thigh as you kept thrusting your fingers inside her. It all felt too good and you couldn’t suppress the needy whimpers spilling from your lips. Your shameless humping made it harder to focus, of course. Yet you didn't stop and your mouth was now making its way down her body, forcing you to shift and let your wetness trail down her skin, coating her all the way to her shin.

When you eventually reached her lower abdomen and nipped at her hip bone, you took a moment to look up, wanting to make sure this was still alright for her. The helpless jolt of her hips was the only sign you needed and, with one last kiss to her mound, you lowered your head to take her bud between your lips.

Her light brown curls were damp from arousal and tickled your nose. Her scent enveloped you –a musky mix of sweat, leather, and something uniquely Brienne, earthy and wild, like wind-swept forests after a rainstorm.

You groaned softly, intoxicated, and pressed your mouth fully against her. Brienne cried out, and, suddenly, her fingers gripped your scalp once more to keep you in place while she practically fucked herself on your tongue.

You circled her clit with your tongue and kept teasing the rough patch behind it relentlessly while your free hand held her thigh tight, no matter how hard her thrusts made it to keep the rhythm going.

"You're so perfect like this, so beautiful," you whispered between heavy pants when you pulled back for a second to catch your breath.

Brienne bucked against your mouth, utterly wrecked, hooked her free leg around your waist to keep you exactly where she wanted, and let out a strangled moan, her whole body tensing under your praise.

You felt her inner walls clench around your fingers, tightening with every thrust as she spiralled closer to the edge. You could also feel your own release creeping closer with every grind, though you never faltered in your devotion to her.

She was close, you knew it. Her pleasure was your command, your entire world reduced to the taste of her, the sight of her, the feeling of her trembling under you. So you took her deeper, sucking gently, taking care of her clit with calculated strokes of your tongue.

"It's alright," you cooed, voice thick with lust and affection. "You can let go."

"Yes!"

With a guttural cry, Brienne came undone. Her entire body arched off the bed, trembling violently, and you felt every pulse, every desperate squeeze of her core around your fingers and thighs locking firmly around your head as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook her.

The leg she had between yours shot up with the force of her climax and parted your own folds so perfectly to brush against your needy clit that you immediately joined her in release, shouting her name at the top of your lungs.

You kept licking, sucking, and thrusting as best as you could during your orgasm and held Brienne through every quivering aftershock until you could move no more and let your head fall limp against her thigh.

"Gods be good…" Brienne panted before one last whimper escaped her lips.

Her hands then gently cradled your face, guiding you back up into her arms. She kissed you with overwhelming tenderness, her lips still trembling, and you kissed her back with equal adoration. Then she smiled at you –a real smile–, and you knew, you just knew, you had had the honour of making Brienne feel like her truest self for the first time.

"It's so different," she mused sometime later.

You had both fully come down from your high and were holding each other close on the small bed while the fire still crackled in the hearth and the rain drummed steadily against the roof, sealing you both away from the outside world.

Your fingers didn't stop their soothing patterns on her upper arm, but you lifted your head, brows knitting in puzzlement.

"Different?"

"When… When it's someone who wants you just as much as you want them, someone who is ready to return the same affection and loyalty you offer them. It's different. It's… better."

Brienne spoke those words in a soft tone, albeit heavy with the weight of old wounds and betrayals. You saw it all in her eyes, and your chest ached with fierce, protective love.

You suddenly felt the urge to hurt anyone who had caused Brienne all that pain, but you knew most of them were dead and it was useless to dwell on the past. So you smiled instead.

Gently, you cupped her face, your thumb brushing tenderly over her cheek.

"Then know this, my lady. As long as I draw breath, you shall never question where you stand with me. You will be loved –fully, fiercely, and without shame."

Slowly, reverently even, Brienne pressed her forehead to yours, exhaling a trembling breath that seemed to release a lifetime of hope.

"I'm no lady," she corrected with a tender smile. "But I am forever yours."

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[fictionadventurer]

I usually think of Gale as "playing by the Capitol's rules" and Peeta as "refusing to play the game", but it's not quite as simple as that. Gale and Peeta are both extremely skilled in different parts of the Game.

Gale is good at the violence part of the Capitol's game. He subverts society's rules by living as a semi-outlaw, illegally poaching to save his family, getting more and more active in fighting against oppression. Yet his violent outlook warps who he is at his core, because it warps his vision of the world into a game of "us versus them" that is actually the bedrock of the worldview that led to their oppressive society in the first place.

Peeta is good at the media spectacle at the heart of the Hunger Games. He can manipulate an entire nation with a story and a smile--a dangerous level of power. But though he's good at putting on the mask, he does so as a way to protect who he is at his core, and to stay loyal to his beliefs. He's able to subvert the system of lies into a tool for presenting the truth in ways that change people's hearts and minds.

Of the two of them, Peeta's probably the more dangerous. He could be the next President Snow if he wanted to be--manipulating the truth to warp hearts and minds and shape society in a way that best serves him. Yet Peeta doesn't play the game for personal gain. He doesn't use his skills to benefit himself. He's always acting out of love for Katniss, and eventually, for the good of all Panem, wanting to save everyone from the lies they're living under, instead of punishing some of them for their role in oppression. Gale works to save others, but only his people--everyone else "deserves" destruction, or is acceptable collateral damage. While Peeta could play the game and keep himself, Gale played the game in a way that warped even his good intentions to bad ends.

You wouldn't think that the honest hometown boy would wind up being less moral than the cunning media manipulator. Yet that's how it plays out, which suggests that it's not just playing the game that matters, but who the players are and how they choose to play.

[enviedear]

nsfw billy headcannons (begging with tears in my eyes) 🤲🏽

billy bonney nsfw alphabet

how about an entire alphabet's worth? tbfh i just needed an excuse to do one of these for billy, plus i had a few billy smut hc requests!

request

a = aftercare

billy is sweetheart after. he cleans you up, is nice enough to don his clothes and run outside to the well to bring you clean water to wash off with. he'll be so gentle with the rag along your body, leaving little kisses in its wake. he holds you close afterward, mumbling sleepy sweet nothings into your neck. he's clingy after he fucks you proper, wants to keep you hitched to him. he feels safest and most as ease in this setting, and he tries his hardest to show you just how much it means to him.

"m'pretty girl, you're so perfect."

b = body part

he loves his hands. he's good with them and they don't look half-bad. in honest, he really didn't have a favorite until how long your eyes would linger on them. after that, he's constantly showing them off for you. fiddling his thumbs in your peripheral until you give him your undivided attention or running them along your shoulders until you're whining for him.

"what're you starin' at, honey?" he'd ask, wise grin plastered onto his face. you'd advert your eyes from his, "hush, outlaw."

his favorite innocent body part of yours is your eyes. he'll often compliment them, swear that they're like the stars above. to him, they are. you always look at him with geninue love and he feels undeserving. now, his favorite indecent part of would have to be your breasts. there i said it. he's a boob man. he wouldn't care about what they looked like or the size— he just wants to touch and watch them bounce when you ride him. he's obsessive, always reaching for them when the two of you are alone. and every time he takes you out to ride, his hands will work their way up to your bust.

"hold the reins, sweetheart." billy requests, voice rolling and deep. you furrow your brows, taking the reins, "why? what are—" you don't have to finish your question, feeling the gunslingers' rough hands against the soft flesh of your bosom, "jus' want to hold 'em, honey."

c = cum

billy likes to finish on your stomach. wants to watch just how much he can leak onto you, how well he can paint you with it. i think he gets his fix by seeing how much you can make him cum. you'll look up at him, blissed out and in a hazy afterglow, watching his face contort into pleasure as he releases, spewing his large load onto your tummy.

"see how much you get out o'me? m'good girl."

d = dirty secret

his dirtiest secret is how pitiful he is for you. if anyone knew how much he depends on you, his sweetest comfort, they'd surely use it against him. billy truly wants nothing more than you and a home, living out your days in bliss. he's whiney for you, touchy when you aren't getting the message quick enough. when he finally gets you to bed, arms caging your frame, he's whimpering and praising you for everything under the sun.

the outlaw pushes into you slowly, letting out a treble gasp, "fuck, feels s'fuckin' good sweetheart." you let out a breath, mouth slacking at the sight above you. he buries himself inside of you, whipering as you clench around him in an attempt to adjust. he lets out a longdraw curse, "wanna be inside ya' forever," a shakey breath, "i'll do anything for ya. anything."

e = experience

he's not doing too bad! before you, he had a few nice ladies, but he doesn't know everything or what to say all the time. it gives you the opportunity to be plenty of his firsts, though. he'll mostly take the lead in bed but if you ever try or say something new, he's flushing and flustered.

"you like when i do that?" you ask, staring down at billy, his eyes shut and ghost of a smile on his lips, "hm? let m'hear you, daddy." his brows furros, lips gaping, "sweetheart..." you grin, know you've got him right where you want him, "c'mon, gimme more." you watch his eyes roll back before he lets go, singing your praise and moaning into your ear.

f = favorite position

would you hate if i said cowgirl. he loves watching you on top of him, craves it. getting to see you come undone above him elicits something wild within him. he also loves the lotus, loves the way you grab his shoulder and press your forehead into his. he can't get enough of you and he feels so close to you when you're like that.

g = goofy

billy doesn't mind cracking a saccharine smile during the deed. he likes showing you that you're safe, that this whole exchange is safe. he never wants you to be scared of him. he's too amazed you're not already to ever jeopardize it. he won't be cracking any jokes while you're at it, but he doesn't mind being sweet for you.

h = hair

this is the wild west baby, lover boy's got some hair. he'll try to clean up whenever he can, but it's such a long hassle he usually opts not to. i don't think he'd necessarily be completely wild, but certainly has hair down there.

i = intimacy

so romantic. he just wants you to feel hoe much he loves you, how much you work him, how much he needs you. if he can't get the words out, he'll just show you. he's apt to kiss you everywhere he can, twice over. he'll mummer adorations on your flesh, basking in the entirety of you.

j = jack off

before you, i don't think he got to as much as he wanted. he's been on the run, hungry, and tired, the last thing on his mind is fucking his hand. and then after you, he doesn't really have a need to. if he wants pleasure he'd rather seek you out and wait until you want him.

"need something, billy?" you ask, smiling knowingly the tall man. he sighs, mirroring your own smile, "you, if you'll have me."

k = kink

he loves marking you up with lovebites. can't get enough of it really. he loves seeing the bruises on your pretty skin, a rebellious display of indecency. they're always given with the best intention though, his way of showing you and the world how good you make him feel.

also exhibitionism. not so much because he likes the thrill of getting caught, but because he's wild and isn't above having you outside. a stretch of meadow? he'll lay you down on the earth like you're the most precious thing in the world.

l = location

as he's a man on the run, a warm bed. nothing beats it. sometimes, he'll go for the great expanse of land that is the west, but usually, he wants you in a bed.

m = motivation

anything you do turns him on and keeps him going. he's sincerely obsessed with you. but your touch, with sinful intent or not, makes his brain go to mush. he loves it if you card your fingers through his hair, rub his back, or interlock your fingers with his. you're so beautiful to him, he always gets flustered by your touch. end result being the both of you high of eachother and sweaty.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

hurting you. he can't do it. he doesn't mind things like spanking or orgasm denial, because he never takes it far enough to harm you. his spanks are firm but light, his goal is to build your anticipation and not leave you bawling on his lap. he wants you to feel good, wants to be the reason you feel good, and hurting you like that doesn't give him that pleasure. he's a sweet lover, he'll be rough when it's fitting but never cruel.

o = oral

billy eats you out like a man starved. he's fully in it for you, but the way you sound due to none other than his mouth? that alone has him thrusting into the bed, roused purely by your own delight. he loves it when you want to reciprocate, he'll never turn it down. he loves the way you look with a mouth full of him.

"you taste s'good, sweetheart. want you to cum for me, let m'taste it."

p = pace

billy is mostly slow and rough. he'll fuck into you with deep and meaningful thrusts. he likes drawing out both your pleasures and tries to hold out until you're begging and pleading for him to let you cum. he also always tries to finish after you, he knows it draws out your orgasm and he finds nothing better than for you to feel good for as long as possible.

q = quickie

billy will take whatever you give him. if you want a quickie he'll give you one. i see this being the start of a great many of the times he takes you outside. walking along the road back to your home together and studying his pretty face, you can't help but reach out to him with a mischievous smirk on your face. billy will oblige you, taking you up against some poor ranchers' barn, whispering for you to stay quiet.

"hush, baby. don't want anyone to hear." billy whispers, faint smirk on his lips.

r = risk

being his girl is kind of the riskest part of being with him, but he's game for some risky activities. i could see him handing you his gun laid beside your sweaty bodies, forcing your hand to center the barrel at his temple. you'd be at a loss at first, even more so when he asks you to pull the trigger.

"what?" you gasp, hand going limp. billy doesn't stop his thrusts, "pull the trigger, sweetheart. if i'm to die it'll only be at your hands." you stay silent, stunned by his actions. he straightens your hold, "s'not loaded, honey," he smiles when you huff, bringing his hand down to your bulb, massaging gently, "but i meant what i said. you've got my life in your hands."

s = stamina

billy can definetly go for a while. he'll need quick between rounds, but you'd have to be doing a lot to wear him out. it doesn't help that he has a constant need for you. he'll try to get you to cum in so many different ways before he ever slips in, spending hours on you in complete devotion.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

did they have easily accessible sex toys in the wild west ??? idk but either way i don't think so. i do see him being very confident (rightfully so) in his own abilities. (not that he'd be against them completely)

u = unfair

billy is always a little bit unfair because he loves to tease. he really doesn't think there's anything better than the way you look deep in the thralls of ecstasy. he'll work you up when he knows the both of you can't act on it, just because he knows it'll have you a complete mess later.

v = volume

billy is pretty vocal, he's not giving you ear-splitting moans, but he is giving you wanton whimpers and needy groans. he's a rambler mostly, prattling nonsense while he slips in and out of you. he talks you through the entire act too (looking at you, anon who sent that into my inbox ur so right) he'll be so quick to tell you you're doing a good job. he also growls when he finishes, teeth barred and eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"thats m'girl, let go, i got'cha."

w = wild card

i think billy would have a secret breeding kink. he'd be pretty resolved not to finish inside you, not until his life is stable he thinks, but he craves it. he wants as many little ones as you'd give him— wants to be a father so long as you're the mother. he just wants life with you, every part, so the idea is in the back of his mind everytime he's buried within you.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

this man is six and a half, veiny, and with a banana curve. the tip is deep pink and the most sensitive for him.

y = yearning

he has a constant sex drive for you. if you want him, he's yours. he thinks about it at least a few times a doy, he can't help it, you're too good to not think of in his opinion.

z = zzz

billy likes to cuddle and talk before drifting off. he wants to make sure you're okay afterward, but also he just wants to be close to you. mentally and physically. i think he'd get his most peaceful sleep after he takes care of you, satisfied by your enjoyment and lulled further into sleep by your sweet hold.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[geminibsworld]

Preachers daughter (one shot *maybe* )

⚠️: daddy!kink (a bit) innocence!kink, pinv, fingering,oral recieving and giving (m & f)

it was a summer afternoon, church was just starting. pearl, the preachers daughter, sat up front smiling proudly, while her father preached about the good lord. her mother sat next to her, pearl looked around. her eyes landing on Jessie's gang, she rolled her eyes turning around to face the front. she was trying to listen to her father when she felt eyes burning into her. she turned around, her red lips agape, as she's met with bluest eyes she's ever seen.

Billy the kid, of course. an outlaw, basically. he had a wild reputation, he'd never kill anyone but he has a reputation. a harlot reputation. every girl and mom had been with billy. pearl could never, she would never allow it.

"Amen!" voices interrupted her, as she turns around clapping and smiling with everyone else. she stood up with her family, her dress sticking to her as it was 90⁰ outside. it was 1982, and things were simple. pearl and her family lived the simple church life. she liked it that way, simple.

"pearl," her father's voice came into peer, she turned and grinned.

"wonderful speech, daddy," her country accent sweet like honey. billy loved your voice, he knew you sounded like honey so you had to taste like honey. billy cleared his throat taking off his hat as he stood behind the family.

"hello.. young man," pearls father tight lipped smile, glared at billy. he didn't care, he knew what people thought.

Billy's hat was in his hands as he was showing respect, pearl smiled to herself behind her family.

"I've heard you need help on your farm, sir," Billy's gruff Texas accent played like a melody in her ears. she gulped, as she felt chills on the hottest day she's felt in awhile.

"well, uh, I don't know-" her father began.

"sir, I'm a hardworker and I can do anything you need, pay me or don't." Billy's pleaded, his voice trying to not sound desperate. truth was he needed work, he needed to take care of his own self too. he needed to eat.

♡

pearl was outside, on the porch watching Billy front a distance as he was shoveling hay. she watched his back, his tall broad frame yet skinny waist. he was strong, his muscles flexed, and he threw his head back taking off his hat and wiping his forehead.

pearl got an idea. she'd bring him water.

pearl walked out in a small white dress, nothing underneath of course, too hot for all that. her parents were already asleep, she felt bad but was so curious at the same time. she walked feeling the soft grass between her toes under her small feet, holding a jug of water. she felt so nervous, she hadn't talked to a lot of boys before, if so they were related due to her father.

she peered into the barn seeing billy, shirtless this time, sitting on the hay wiping his forehead again.

"y'know it's rude to stare," his voice caused her eyes to bug out of her head. she gulped before saying,

"well, you need water," she stated, quietly feeling nervous now. he stood up over her, and stared down at her, he smirked at her nervousness before grabbing the jug outta her hand and drinking while making eyecontact with her. he watched her shake, he almost laughed. so innocent, he thought. he wanted to see her shake in another way.

"thank you, maam," he handed the water back to her, she gulped nodding not making eye contact. billy noticed this.

"why won't you look at me ?" his voice low, causing a feeling to arise in her in her lower belly. she'd never felt that before.

"well, my momma said if I ever so much as look at a man they'll take advantage of me," pearl said, quietly. billy nodded, taking it in.

"well, I would never take advantage of such a pretty girl," his accent thick, and low now.

pearl gulped stepping back, looking at his naked large chest then back to his eyes then anywhere else. billy liked how innocent she was, how she wouldn't look into his eyes, he craved that.

*

pearl was cleaning up after the service. billy walked by and looked in the stained windows, seeing pearl bent over, he caught a view of her panties. her whole ass was out, and she didn't even notice or so he thought. he decided to walk in when she walked away, he locked the door behind him, quietly. she walked back into the room, she jumped seeing billy.

"h-hi william," she coughed, smoothing down her dress.

"hi, honey," his accent heavy, she shivered when he said that. she shook off her thoughts before asking a question.

"why are you here?" she asked, unsure. billy smiled at her.

"to see my favorite girl of course," pearl looked away, and continued to pick up every Bible.

"I don't think she's here, try again later. normally harlots don't go to church." pearl sneered at him, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulders.

"oh but she is," he stepped towards her, too close, she thought. she gulped, looking away continuing on grabbing every Bible.

"she wears little dresses, never a bra, and always wears the most innocent looking panties. but I know she could be my harlot if I touched her in the right place. would you like that, honey?" his accent low, and rough.

her mouth fell open, she was feeling something she felt the other night. her lower stomach bubbling in heat, a wetness poured in her panties.

billy noticed her silence and her reaction, she looked so small and innocent. he stepped forward, brushing a few hair behind her ear. her bright green eyes staring back. he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to her lips.

she was surprised and pulled back. his eyes darker and his lips fuller now.

she gasped at the sight of him, he was so beautiful.

"have you ever touched yourself before?" his southern accent breaking the silence.

"um no," pearl said, quietly. her cheeks reddened by now, she was biting her lip.

"may i?" he asked her, peering into her eyes.

pearl reluctantly nodded her head, billy picked up pearl like she weighed nothing.

"wrap your legs around me, dollface," and she did. he carried her to the priests office, shutting and locking the door then laying pearl down on the desk. her body lay there, as she anxiously waited, billy threw everything on the floor turning her body so it's long ways.

"billy, I've never done this before," she sat up on her elbows, hair a mess and her strap falling off her shoulder. billy laughed as he took off his belt and vest. he had lost his hat a bit ago, his hair had grown so much.

"baby, I know what you have and haven't done. I still wanna take care of ya," he leaned down between her thighs. she was soaked, she was so embarrassed, she tried closing her legs.

"let me taste you," he mumbled into her, before taking a long wet stripe to her wet patch on her panties. she moaned out, her hands fitting her dress. he pushed up her short dress more, exposing all of her.

"that feels nice," she said, not even realizing what was going on. billy smirked, pulling her white wet panties down her thighs. once they were gone, he pushed her legs up on the desk spreading her all the way open.

billy gasped, she was dripping. literally honey, he thought. he dove right in, no warning. licking her clit, she screamed out. his tongue playing with her clit, slowly.

"oh my-" she breathed out, whimpering. billy smirked to himself before speeding up, his tongue doing soft but fast. a feeling way coming up, she felt like she had to pee. she was a moaning whimpering mess.

"my messy baby, your pussy is soaking. can't wait to feel you around me. " he grumbled into her, she cried out as he took in all her juices, not missing any.

"feel good baby?" he sat her up, she lazily sat up. her hair falling behind her.

"take your dress off baby," she obliged, tiredly. billy smirked watching her as he unbuttoned his button up, and pulled down his pants. her dress was off as she watched him, she looked down and gasped.

"big, ain't it? sometimes the ladies call me billy the man," he laughed, "too bad, I only want you to call me that," he winked at pearl.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," pearl mumbled, looking down away from his gaze. two fingers lifted her head, their eyes met.

"I wouldn't lie to you, honey," he mumbled planting a kiss on her forehead, "now lay back and let daddy do his thing,"

she laid back, his large fingers rubbed her clit in circles. she was seeing stars, she was a whimpering messy little girl and billy loved it.

"billy,-" she breathed out, eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"baby, im gonna try somethin'" suddenly two finger plunged into her, his large fingers giving her a filling feeling. his fingers curled, causing this feeling to happen. billy continued, adding another finger. he finger fucked her, hard.

"daddy," she moaned, billy had to hold back his moan.

"fuck it," he mumbled, grabbing his hardened member spitting on it while rubbing in his precum. while pearl was in her own euphoric world, he played with her small bud rubbing in circles with his thumb.

he placed himself at her entrance, before pushing in slowly. inch by inch by inch, she could feel herself expanding around his large member. the farther he got in the more she wanted more, he pulled all the way out before sliding all the way back in hard. she cried out, he wrapped his toned arms around her back pulling her up, before slamming his hips into hers multiple times.

"fuck bi-daddy," she cursed as he fucked her roughly. rough sex was Billy's favorite and most girls liked it because his big cock.

billy moaned as he fucked her, their hips meeting, he pulled her into a messy kiss. he stuck his tongue in her mouth, she could taste herself. she sucked on his tongue causing this animalistic sound to come out of billy. he pulled away, before pulling her out and flipping her over so she was bent over the desk.

"such a pretty pink pussy baby, can't wait to destroy it," he spit on his cock, jerking it a few times before sliding into her wet hole.

she moaned, billy went in so deeply he could feel her cream on his cock. he grunted, her ass jiggling against him. he reached for her long hair pulling her back so she could look at him as billy was filling her up.

"fuck," she cried out as he plunged into her, billy was turned on, she was his bad girl. he wanted that, he wanted to turn her and he did.

"preachers daughter my ass," he only went harder, she clenched around him crying out. tears staining her pretty pink cheeks.

"you my dirty whore? huh?" billy grunted, pulling her head back more.

"oh my God yes daddy, I'm your dirty whore," she cried out, Cumming again on his cock.

billy was close, he became sloppy yet hard still. he wanted to cum on her back, he wanted to see the cum on her.

"fuck, honey, I'm close," he breathed, letting go of her hair, moving to her lips.

"daddy fuck, don't stop," they moaned together before billy pulled out and finished on her back.

pearl was out of breath, and sore. extremely sore, there was a liquid pouring down her legs. she looked around for billy, he wasn't there. she began to feel used, upset.

billy came walking in, his thermals on and a rag in his hand, she felt much relief.

"lemme take care of this mess baby," he smiled at her, she nodded grinning biting her lip as he wiped her and him clean.

"I'd like to see you again, doll," he smirked, she bit her lip hiding a grin slipping on her dress. she picked her panties off the ground, handing them to billy.

"keep these", she whispered before asking, " you workin today?"

billy smirked getting dressed, before looking at her .

"oh I'm workin' today darlin. I'll take ya home, and we can continue, if you'd like of course." billy said, smooth but sweetly.

"sure, daddy,"

she stopped calling her dad, daddy so dw no one will be confused or weirded out.

[brokenpieces-72]

Echo

Note: I have been working on this oc for a while, and there's a lot I wanted to do with them. This story is oc reader insert, so I leave the name open but the hero name is already established.

CW: Foster system (abuse of it), injured reader, financial abuse, car crash, let me know if I missed anything.

You know that feeling when everything seems to be falling apart? You’ve had it before, when you lost your parents and separated from your sibling in the foster system. You feel it now too along with plenty of soreness from your injuries.

You lay in the hospital bed, with your cracked phone screen. Foster parents hadn’t seen any of your texts and no phone calls had been answered. You messaged your sibling but they wouldn’t be able to make it to you. Your friends were either stuck at work or asleep right now. The nurses and doctor suggested calling a lawyer for yourself, since the other driver is a lawyer and his family wants to press charges. Insurance company has you covered for any other surgery or treatment they need to do so no need to contact them.

Still, you stare at your phone screen staring at the small text message history you have. You could try. He might be busy, but you could try. While your boss wasn’t the softest or kindest person, he still cared. Many not a lot, but at least a little. Then again, maybe it would be a chance for him to stop mentoring you, and go solo again. The pros and cons fight over what to say in the text. Regardless you wouldn't be out of hospital for a while so he needed to know that.

E: Hey boss, sorry but I can’t come in to work for the next couple days.

You shut your phone off after sending it. Then you turn it back on again, debating whether to delete it, edit it, or leave it. Honestly with the drugs in your system, it’s a little hard to make proper decisions. You know he’ll ask, you know he’ll be hard on you for reckless driving, but he’s all you’ve got right now. Right now you just need another person with you, even if they’re somewhat of a stranger.

Your phone rings. Holy crap it can still do calls? Whatever not the point. You answer the call without paying attention to the screen, though you briefly see the name. This would not be pleasant.

“Hello?” You answered, before coughing. Maybe you could cover up your sore voice as a sick one.

“What's going on?” Your boss asked.

“Uhh… can I…” you pause a lot, the war still going on, and fighting over your vocal cords. To your boss's credit he’s patient right now. Finally, you get something out. “Are you on patrol?”

You rub your head, praying you don’t have a headache coming on. Your boss takes a moment to answer.

“Yes why?” He asked. He sounds irritated. You don’t want a lecture when he gets here.

“Nevermind. Forget it.” You say quickly.

“Outlaw, answer the question.” He said.

“… I…” you swallowed. “I’m in hospital. No one can make it, and… was wondering if you could come see me?”

There’s silence again and you shut your eyes. This was a bad idea. You hear a sigh over the phone, and regret sinks in.

“Forget it, I’ll be fi-“

“On my way, give me a few minutes. Do you need anything?” Your boss asked.

“Maybe a change of clothes.” You suggest. “That’s kind of it.”

He hangs up, and you sigh. He was gonna lecture you, but at least he was coming. Especially if they needed to do more surgery. God knows your fosters wouldn’t come anytime soon.

Jason Todd arrived at the hospital, jacket on, hood up, and a small backpack with a change of clothes for you. Trying to see you as your boss likely wouldn’t work very well, but seeing you as your brother could pass. He approaches the desk where a nurse is typing away. The nurse looked up, seeing him almost towering over her.

“Here to see Y/N L/N.” he asked.

“Down that hall, room 168.” The nurse instructed. Jason made his way down the hall, keeping an eye out for the room. He stopped himself just outside your door, ensuring the face mask he brought covered his face. His eyes were uncovered, but the hood shielded them enough. Then he overheard you on the phone.

“It was an accident, I swear I did-no it wasn’t for attention. I was just-“ you tried to get a word in as your foster parents demanded to know why they were getting medical bills. Jason steps in, quietly as you continued to plead innocent. “I just went out to meet a friend, I wasn't even drinking. Insurance money will cover it, I checked. I'm not asking you to cover it, I'm just telling y-...Okay. I'll transfer the mon-I'll take it out when I get the chance.”

You’re on the phone getting yelled at until they finally hang up. Your head is down, and you're holding back tears. When you looked up you nearly jumped out of bed, seeing the large figure that had come into your room. The red hoodie was a dead giveaway. Jason stepped in and set the bag down nearby.

“What happened?” He asked, not bothering with a greeting.

“Car accident… don’t quite remember. I swear I was driving on the right side, and I tried to move out of the way, but…” you trailed off.

“At least you’re alive.” He pointed out.

“Yeah so I can get medical bills, foster parents barking at me, no car for the next who knows how long, and now I even have to get a lawyer because the family of the other driver says it was all my fault, and I won’t be able to go to work or go on patrol or even train.” You say, trying to keep the lump in your throat down. The last thing you wanted was to start sobbing.

Jason sits in a nearby chair. “You’ll need more than a couple days.”

“The couple days is just for me to get out of hospital, the rest I can do easily enough.” You say, shrugging. As if shrugging really got rid of the weight of everything. Red Hood needed Echo, they were close to a breakthrough in a fighting and drug ring.

“You need rest.” Jason told you.

“For a couple days, then I’ll be back on my feet. The next load is coming Thursday, I'll be fine by then.” You said firmly, but there was a crack in your voice from emotion. Sidelining is the last thing you want. You’ve worked too hard for him to take you out of the game. Jason is quiet in the chair. It looks like he staring at the floor or the bed but you know he’s looking at you under his hood. You refuse to break.

Jason knows you are though. You’re tired, you’re injured, you have morphine in your blood stream, and financially you’re fucked. When he sighs, you think it’s pointed towards you and your stubbornness. It’s not. He realizes that you’ve been carrying a lot more than he thought. Now he has to call for a favour, one he didn’t want to ask for.

“Kid, right now, you are unfit to fight-don’t interrupt.” He said, holding his hand up, before you could argue. “You’re injured, you’re stressed, and you’ll be distracted. The last thing I want is your death on my conscious because I let you get yourself killed.”

“I don’t need to be sidelined.” You said, your voice breaking.

“You’re being benched for your own good. When you’re ready to get back into the game, I’ll pull you in. Don’t rush it but don’t waste time.” Red Hood ordered. You nodded. It’s a bit of a relief, since you haven’t had much time for regular life, let alone time for yourself.

“How long do I have?” You asked. Of course you wanted to be on a time limit. Jason did it to you for a lot of your training, whether it was posting up or reaching a checkpoint.

“Knowing shit like this, it will take maybe a week or so until you’re out of here.” Jason thought out loud.

“Then I have to get a lawyer which is a week or so, I have enough money… I should. I can do that while I’m recovering, and then I have work, and my side job. Chores, extra because I’ll be away. Then getting my vehicle repaired which will take a while…” your voice broke again thinking about the work you had after you leave the hospital.

“Hey.” Jason said. You looked up at him and it’s the first time you’ve seen his eyes. They were more natural than you thought. For some reason you thought they’d be red or maybe yellow. “This isn’t a fight, focus on what’s in front of you. I’ll give you a month.”

“I won’t need a month.” You said, take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You’re getting one. Consider it mandatory vacation or something.” Jason said.

You want to thank him, and hug him but you’re a little incapable. The relief is massive wave, almost drowning you. You look down at your broken phone, feeling it vibrate.

“Thank you.” You said, the tears finally breaking free from your eyes. You sniffle and wipe at them. “Sorry.”

“Just fucking cry kid. Your life is falling apart it’s a normal response.” Jason said.

You let out a small noise that he thinks is you laughing. You nod, wiping your eyes, and a small smile on your face. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you. You wouldn’t happen to know any lawyers would you?” You asked. Your phone vibrated and you checked it, seeing your friend had replied, saying he was close by.

“Recover for the first while, then worry about a lawyer.” Red Hood said. Jason notices you smile at your phone, and takes it as his cue to leave. “Rest. I’ll be in touch.”

Jason gets up, leaving the backpack. Once he steps into the hallway he sighs. He doesn’t want to make this call, he really doesn’t. But you’re his partner, his apprentice. Hell, you’re basically his Robin. Jason had a rough life. You might have what he didn’t, but that didn’t make your life perfect. He’d been pulled out of that struggle and sure it wasn’t perfect, but it was at the very least decent.

Once he’s out of the hospital, he dials on his phone. He didn’t want to but with the bs justice system Gotham has, you would need some help.

“Alfred?” Jason said, hearing a familiar older voice on the other end. “Is Bruce there? I need to talk to him.”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[squiddy-god]

Twst cowboy/western AU

Omg ok so I have so many thoughts here we goooo!!! 

Tw: western Au! Mental illness, guns and gangs, I think that's it- this is a pretty wholesome au soooo

New tags! Town of Night Raven, twisted western, twst western!Au

Ok this au takes place in like the 1890’s in the small western town of Night Raven 

I'll go in order of the boys 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Managed to move away from his mama and go here, he still writes her but he's dead to her and it crushes him

He's a good ole english boy turned cowboy and night Raven is the only town that would take him 

He runs the town's stables and looks after the horses, acting as a sort of vet for their illnesses. Takes house calls to peoples farms so he can fix up their animals.

He has quite the temper and kicks like a horse himself 

Trey Clover 

Local dentist and doctor. 

Friends with Riddle but ain't much for horses

Definitely has this work cut out for him in this mess of a town. 

Came from the big city and knew Riddle as a kid before he moved back to London

Was shocked to see him in night Raven looking like he'd been dragged through hell 

Ace trapola 

Moved west for money and settled in night Raven only to never leave 

Causes a bunch of trouble for the law, always galavanting around town and getting in bar fights

Works at the stable with Riddle and deuce but barely is there to work and just messes around with the horses 

Punched riddle once when he first came to town and has not hit him since considering that Riddle got a lot better at fist fighting since you first came in

Deuce spade 

Used to be a gang outlaw before he came to night Raven and decide he wanted a quiet life to make his mama proud 

Hardest worker at the stables and dose all the lifting

Part time ranch hand out at the big farm Crowley owns 

Leona kingscolar

Runs a gang of outlaws and reeks quite a bit of havoc on night Raven

Came from a wealthy family but left the big city's to make his own path

Succeeded, his territory is pretty big in the West and he just needs night Raven to make it complete 

Only problem is night Raven has waring gang factions

A quick shot and a good rider

Ruggie bucci 

Used to be a street thief to support his town before Leona took over and things got better

Has been his errand boy and enforcer ever since 

Still steals but mostly from rich blokes he finds on the side of the rodes

He's a better shot than Leona, always has two 6 shots and a knife on him. 

Jack howl 

Honestly never wanted to be in a gang but Leona wouldn't leave him alone.

Only joined cause his family lives in a town Leona controls. 

Mostly works as a farm hand for Crowley because of his muscle

Is the one to break up epels bar fights all the time 

Has a mean right hook 

Azul ahsengrotto 

Runs the morstro saloon that he uses to conduct his under the table business. 

He co-owns it with vil

Octovinell is his gang, with jade too his right and Floyd to enforce his rules, 

Active in the night Raven gang wars but mostly just the dirty money he sweeps under the table for arms dealing and such 

jade leech 

Infamous leech brothers 

Escaped convicts that azul took in when they were first forming the gang. 

Handles most of the product side of things for the “business” and runs the front of the house with vil

Spent most of his early life taking care of Floyd and his troubled mind 

Floyd 

Troubled mind growing up, 

They ended up as orphans before they where 12 and had to fend for themselves

Killed three men in a town and ran, from place to place

7 bodies in total before they where caught and thrown in jail. 

Escaped and joined azuls gang at 17 and have been with him ever since. 

Relatively charming young man if you ignore the teeth and glare he sports in a bad mood 

Kalim al-hasim 

Moved west for peace and quiet and decided to bring Jamil along with him 

He's the kind but sort of naive shop owner

Runs the general goods store and has a real knack for business 

Partners with Crowley's farm to supply the store of most produce. 

If you need something bought or sold you either talk to kalim or azul 

Jamil Viper 

Resents kalim for dragging him west 

But he does like the freedom of the western deserts 

Works at kalims shop and chases off any of their more unruly customers (see : Leona and azuls gangs) 

Definitely learned how to shoot and became one of the best shots in town. 

Has his own horse named saffron who's just the most beautiful red! 

Vil schroheint 

Co-owns the salon with azul and runs the front of the house with jade! 

He's absolutely gorgeous, has a slight German accent and often gets mistaken for a lady. 

Was a singer and actor in Germany

Definitely a more effeminate man but after they watched him beat the snot out of some unruly customer they don't mention it. 

Rook calls him gorgeous. And that's it. 

Always mad at epel for bar fights 

Rook hunt 

Definitely a hunter

Always sells his game at kalims shop and always has the best catches

Most avoid him because he's an odd Fellow but no one can deny his skill at hunting. 

Follows vil around so much his nickname has become “the saloon owners dog” 

Epel felimer 

Farm hand at Crowley ranch after he quit working for vil. 

In this au he's a bit taller and more muscular

Realistically he's a strong farm boy, good at bucking hay and climbing trees. 

Mostly tends to the Apple trees but he also herds in the cattle 

Gets in a lot of bar fights 

Vil thinks he's too crass with his thick accent 

Idia shroud 

Rich city guy that moved here unwillingly 

But he's here and he's scared of the gangs

Mostly keeps to himself and is pretty paranoid 

Reads books like crazy, his little house is more of a library then it is a home- well ok it is the local bookstore but his room and or this are on the second story

Used to be quite the gunSlinger before ortho

Ortho shroud 

Takes care of his troubled brother and runs most of the errands! 

Brings home stray cats for idia and always plays with the dogs! 

He's a sweet boy who all but begs people to teach him to shot so he can be just like his big brother but no one budges 

Malleus draconia 

The marshal

With his black Stetson and those horns it has on it makes him look like the bloody devil

And to some he is. 

Really disomnia is more of a benevolent gang, but they enforce the law and keep things mostly peaceful 

Malleus himself is a sweet man but a scary one

All outlaws with territory bigger than leona could ever hope 

Lilia vanrouge 

Outlaw and ex mercenary before he settled down with disomnia 

Malleus right hand 

Fought in the war before he became a hired gun, then an old friend called in a favor and he raised malleus and settled down. 

Joined the gang malleus formed and was right into the thick of it. 

Now he's really settled, just a older gentleman raising his adopted son silver now. 

Silver vanrouge 

 The poor baby he found 

Technically Lilia is the one who made him an orphan but- he felt so bad he adopted silver. 

Now he's a strong young man who loves his pops 

A member of disomnia and works in the town as part of law enforcement occasionally

Besides that he helps Lilia with his little farm. A few cows and some goats, sheep and chickens. 

Nothing much but it still what he loves. 

Sebek zigvolt 

Joined disomnia after seeing Lilia and melleus in a shoot out and becoming an instant devotee 

Works full time as law enforcement. 

Has a penchant for trying to break up bar fights but ends up getting roped into them on accident. 

Denies it but he's so gentle with the horses it's insane to think it's the same boy always yelling and shouting. 

Dire Crowley 

Mayor of the town and a shady one too. 

Pays off all three gangs so they don't kill each other 

Runs a big farm on the outskirts of town that supplies a lot of work. 

Comes into town often but no one likes him much

Definitely a few skeletons in the closet. 

[embras-grace]

I love that and it brings up concerns about something else:

eating Flow infused fish/meat or using Flow wood furniture--what if it gives off radiation like other radioactive objects?

Is all our fancy furniture also doing that over time? Those glowing, magical fish we catch or animals we hunt and eat and make clothes out of? 👀

It'd be fascinating if humans are immune to the flow effects cause they used it for so long and Kenyatta mentions she was taught in humans times the sky was choked with smoke you couldn't see the sun (now I call Order lying bullshit there we have no other evidence sounds like just them lying to strengthen their hold, but there could be SOME truth like smog choked cities in the world today)

So if flow is radioactive maybe it only affects Majiri? I like both theories 👀

I am excited to learn more about the Order and Majiri culture as a whole (once they fix the bugged welcome party quest, I hear some folks can't access it).

This is a lot of rambling so its under a cut plus there are some plot spoilers in here.

So far, we know that Majiri choose Paths at a certain age (most likely a certain point in adulthood since Kenyatta hasn't chosen hers but, but Nai'o has) and that Path decides what you do... forever. If you change it (unless you are a solider and retire, per Ashura) or stray from your parent's Path then you're an outcast and many consider you a failure (see: Reth).

So you are basically stuck doing what your parents were doing, and their parents were doing, and face societal rejection from the majority... so it seems fair to say that Majiri society is run on a strict class system. Governors stay governors, farmers stay farmers. Some can be rich (mentions of Farming being a good Path as it can be very lucrative, but Badruu's family has been noted to be unable to pay their raised taxes). Straying from what you are meant/born to do is unforgivable... but Kenyatta is considering a Healer Path instead of Governing. Kenli even mentions he choose Farming as his Path but he was forced to go into Governing.

Some Majiri seem very happy with this though, like Najuma, who mentions her disappointment at Auni for wanting to stray from his family's Path and not learn from them. She also mentions she can't imagine human life without Paths because "how can you know you will help anyone?"

On one hand, it seems nice that some Majiri find comfort in their Paths, choosing what they want, much like choosing a college major. On the other, they can end up very unhappy or regretting their decisions, or worse, being considered a pariah.

But we ALSO know the Majiri live in a world where their government, the Order, get to burn and ban books. As we all know, no good guy in history burned or banned books. The Order says they ban Flow and magic to protect people because the humans went extinct because of something happening with Flow--but the library also mentioned shadow being/creatures which could have aided in the downfall.

But the Grimalkin aren't beholden to Flow rules due to the trade wars and, therefore, neither are humans. In fact, humans aren't banned from using magic either because they weren't around when the laws were made. Does this mean the Order will try to enforce this rule on humans without fair representation in the Council?

Is the Order representing a strict police state Majiri live under? The Order hire mercenaries (like Sifuu) when monsters are involved or work with the military (per Ashura) and some look on them very positively (Hassian) yet others are very wary (Caleri cause of her banned books the Order will burn and Elouisa being distrustful of officials in power, and for good reason, I assume).

My theory is that the Order are, 100% beyond a shadow of a doubt, the bad guys.

They ban a normal part of the world (Flow) from every being used and ban magic--while using magic themselves!

"To keep people safe" yeah right, that's what all fascist police states say. "We learn about this to protect you from it, we ban and burn books because this is too dangerous for you" what is too dangerous? Knowledge? Tamala used to be part of the Order (I don't believe her "grandmother" excuse for a second) and yes, she used them and their knowledge to make herself younger, but okay?

There would be ways to ensure Flow and magic stay well-controlled and safe without burning and banning books, encouraging the eyes of children to join the Order for some mysticism in their lives...

The Majiri to me seem like a people whose culture is very stifled and knowledge is held away from them. Not even Jina, who is a researcher, can research human Flow without potentially getting in trouble!

The Order are the bad guys. And while Paths and the like don't make Majiri society bad, it does make it very divided, especially for people like Reth.

I think Embra brought humans back to bring some honest joy back to the world. No Paths, no bans, just being pure creatures happy to be alive and without the pressures of ancient culture bearing down on them. Humans can do anything and everything! They can join every guild! Why should Majiri be able to do so, too?

I don't think humans are a "savoir" thing either, I think Paths are good and Majiri society has so many positives and its so rich in its culture... but it fails some of them. It failed Reth and Kenli, Kenyatta is feeling forced to go to Governance but will choose Healing, and its failing Auni (pressure to become a Farmer despite him wanting something more out of life) as well as Jel (his own mother hasn't accepted him into the family name yet).

I think humans are Embra's way of trying to show these people--who haven't heard from Maji (per Chayne) in hundreds of years--that the Phoenix and Dragon are still here, and they want their creations to live life to the fullest and love their world. Humans got it wrong before, but with the aid of the Majiri they can live in balance with nature and each other. And with the aid of the humans, Majiri can live in balance with themselves.

After all, you can pick one Path and stick to it... but what's the harm if you stray? Its a big world out there and people are always changing as they grow older... why not explore all your options to the fullest?

I just think the Order is the main bad guy and I don't like them.

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (17)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: Things get a bit heated, people get flustered (I BETTER SEE SOME REACTIONS CAUSE BRO EVEN I REACTED I LOVE THIS CHAPTER)

BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz)

You had been helping the boys out with moving things around the camp, tidying up as you were so used to. You could hear their bickering and giggles from inside one of the tents as you picked up their dirty clothes and things they might have left laying around. They didn’t ask for you to do their chores but seeing as they had done so much for you, you wanted to return the favor.

“Hey, doll.” You turned around to find the tall man giving you a charming smile.

“Hi, Mingi.” You whispered breathlessly.

He casually walked closer to you, making you smile as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You placed down what you had in your hands to wrap yours around his waist, rubbing your cheek against the leather of his vest. The skin of his arms made you shiver as they encased around your head. 

“You doing alright?” He asked you quietly. 

You pulled back to look at him, sighing deeply. You had a soft look on your face that made Mingi’s lips turn up. He could see how much it brought joy to you to be with them all again. It made him feel like a little kid getting praise. 

“I thought I wasn't going to see you again.” You admitted to him. “I mean, that was stupid of me to think. Ain't no way you guys were just going to leave the others in Cromer.” You shook your head as your lips wobbled. “But honestly, I thought they were going to leave without me getting to say goodbye to you all.”

Mingi’s large hand moved up to your cheek, his thumb rubbing just under your eye. He gave you a light smile to calm your racing heart. “We're all okay.” He whispered. “Nothing is going to bring us down. And you mean too much to us to just leave without saying anything.”

He sighed deeply as he took you in. “Besides, I was worried about you too.” He added.

“You were?” Your eyebrows furrowed together, lips pulled out into a pout.

“You were shaking so bad that day.” Mingi began to explain. “Wouldn't let me leave. Seonghwa had to take my place to get you to calm down. ” 

Your shoulders dropped as the first thing you felt was embarrassment. He–and possibly some of the others–had seen you in your most vulnerable state and it left you a bit bothered. You hadn’t really talked about that day with any of the boys because you felt ashamed of how you felt. Not just because of your anger, but because you felt so helpless.

However, your doubts about him seeing you in a different light faded away as he kept explaining what it was he felt that day. “I didn't want to leave you like that. It killed me to not know anything about you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat at his revelation. You could keep telling yourself multiple times that you knew what the boys meant to you, but hearing it from their mouths that you meant something to them made you feel light-headed. 

Each one of Mingi’s words swirled around in your head until you could no longer stand. They made you want to jump on your bed and kick your feet in the air from how giddy you might have felt. But his words also held heavy meaning. There was a story behind why he felt that way and it reminded you of your own feelings of self loath.

“I'm sorry for worrying you.” You told him.

“Don't apologize for that, Doll.” He bent down to be eye level with you, cradling your face in his hands. “I'll always worry about you now.” 

He stood back up as he clenched his jaw. “I have never felt so much anger until I saw you being caged in by those animals. I knew they didn't deserve mercy. Not with the way they hurt you. I will never forgive myself if that ever happened to you again.”

With how he had been expressing himself to you about that day, you were reminded all about how you felt seeing his large hat at the end of the alleyway. At first, you were terrified when the blood of the men splattered on your face but seeing his tall figure there was like a punch to the gut. Relief had washed over you in buckets and you wanted to cry from the overwhelming emotions. 

You knew Mingi wasn’t one of the boys you consider yourself to be close to. Hell, you still had so much to learn from the ones you saw on a daily basis. But having Mingi save you made you think of him differently. In your mind, you guess it was some hero complex you gave him, but the way he took care of you afterward made you feel special. 

You had gone so far into your head that day you couldn’t remember how it was you acted, but you knew it was Mingi who held you close to keep from trembling so much. He had seen you in your most vulnerable state and didn’t think twice about taking care of you. And because of that, you suddenly saw him in a different light. 

He had a tough exterior. He was rough around the edges and had a scowl that made people fear him. Mingi was an outlaw with a criminal record of murder, which should be a red flag to anyone who met him. However, you got the chance to know the real him. The one who saved you and was worried about your mental health. 

“I don't think it will if it's you who's behind me.” You laughed lightly.

“You were brave for saving that girl.” He took a step closer to you, head dipping down to touch your nose with his. “I like the fire you have. It's different from all the other people I've met.”

“Let me guess. You like it?” Your lips pulled into a smile, feeling the ghost of his own lips touching them.

“More than you'll ever know.” 

You gasp lightly as his lips touched yours, your eyes squeezing shut from the pressure that was building up in your head. Mingi easily overpowered you, not that you wanted to be the one in control. He made you melt so easily that you almost laughed into the kiss. There was a leak of adrenaline in your body that made you place your hands on Mingi’s cheeks to pull him closer. 

The kiss had been heated, both of your emotions spilling over from the time spent apart. Who knew how things would have gone had you both stayed close. Maybe being apart for so long with so much anticipation of seeing each other again created a buildup of tension. But for sure, it made the kiss all the more perfect. 

Mingi’s hand dropped down to your waist, which had you sucking in a breath. His body began to lean over yours, pushing onto you as his weight fell down. You could hear his breathing turning harsh as the hands that were on you seemed to bunch up your skirts. 

You could feel your skirts lifting as he folded up the fabric, the cold air hitting your legs. The kiss started to get aggressive the moment you felt Mingi nip at your lips. A shaky exhalation left your mouth, the sound catching on the man’s ears. His tongue slipped out, daring to taste the spit that had gathered between the two of you. Your hands made quick work of touching his skin under his vest. They moved his coat over one of his shoulders, feeling up his toned biceps as he quickly shoved the offending fabric off him. 

His body fell back on top of you, a laugh falling from your lips as the man seemed to want to be closer to you. Your body arched backwards, allowing him to cover your torso. You felt a sudden need to touch more of his skin with the way he overpowered you. 

You tried to lift your leg up, however your skirt prevented you from moving fully and growled into Mingi’s mouth, which made him flinch back to stare at you with wide eyes. You pressed your lips tightly together to keep from laughing at the blush that had overtook Mingi’s face. 

He watched for just a bit before rushing forward, taking your mouth once more. You squealed at his needy nature, hands moving to grip behind his neck. His hands didn’t shy away from moving to the back of your thighs, pulling you up with him. This time, you shoved your skirts to the side, allowing them to bunch up at your waist as your legs wrapped around Mingi’s torso. 

He was trying his hardest to not fall back as his knees seemed to weaken the more his tongue delved into your mouth. His fingers twitched around the fabric of your skirts that was hanging down. He could feel the plush of your thighs under his fingers if he gripped hard enough. 

It wasn’t until your inner thighs started to sweat that you realized where it was that you were heading with Mingi. You crossed your ankles behind him, arms wrapping themselves closer around his neck so that you were chest to chest. His own skin was heating up as well, starting to sweat from your body heat. 

When you felt your thighs suddenly clench, your muscles began to twitch with anticipation as something began to build up in the bottom of your stomach. When you realized what was happening, you let out a screech, quickly dropping your body from Mingi’s. 

The boy also let out a squeak, dropping you unceremoniously, turning around as his hands went to cover his lower half. You both turned to face the other way, avoiding looking at each other as you tried to calm down. Your body was still twitching from the stimulation, so you withered trying to get rid of the feeling. 

You weren’t dumb to what it was that you had just felt. You knew what it was like to be a single woman all alone in your 20s. While you didn’t really have much free time due to sharing a room with your sister, you still heard others talk. It was the first time you had ever felt that kind of adrenaline. While you knew you wanted more, you weren’t there just yet. 

As your heat simmered down, you slowly turned around to face Mingi. He was still hunched over, facing the other way. He was breathing heavily as he tried to calm his own temperature down. When he returned to his full height, he slowly turned around. As his eyes caught your own, a laugh started to form in your throat. 

His grimace a bit before his own lips pulled up in a laugh. Hearing your laugh made his overthinking go away, just enjoying the fact that you weren’t yelling at him. Or worse, regretting what it was he did. 

Just as Mingi was going to say something to you, Seonghwa had called to you both from outside the tent. “Mingi! Have you seen Pretty Girl?” The older male said, opening the flap to the tent.

“I'm right here, Hwa.” You answered with a soft smile, stepping around Mingi. “Who made dinner?” You grinned, picking up the things you had dropped when Mingi came in.

“Wooyoung.” Seonghwa gave you a bright smile, putting his arm around your shoulders. “He was excited to cook for you.”

You looked over to Mingi who had a soft look on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest, but he was relaxed. You nodded your head in the direction of the opening, signaling to Mingi to come along. 

“Let me go see what he made up then.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokkii , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Helloo !! ^^ Its me again ahaha 🙈

Feeling you with the number of RQs ! (': i have a lot of unfinished ones too, and I FEEL SO JORRIVLE FOR SENDING ONE in knowing that💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭, but this has been in the forefront of my mind 😵‍💫. Please don't feel pressured to respond! 🫣 I won't blame you if you'd rather not to ☺️🙌//

...

Yandere Outlaw, having abducted reader, not at all having had anticipated the strength of their connections.

While reader isn't necessarily strong themselves, they have a strong family, a line of uncles and brothers that are feared across the West for their brutality, their violence, and most notably, their loyalty. This is especially jarring given that reader is the youngest in the family, so of course they would be overprotective over them, as weren't they just the baby of the family, their sweet lil pumpkin?

It's why they are second only to Outlaw himself in terms of criminality, notorious instead, however for how they are willing to kill for blood feud, and to wreak havoc in a bid to avenge anyone that crossed the path of their family member(s).

Now picture this: having heard of reader's abduction, to describe their reaction as fury, rage, even wrath, would all be an understatement. They would be getting together, coordinating a plan, and intending to shoot the damn bastard dead, as scum like him should pay for messing with the wrooong criminals.

Now this brings me to my question: what would Outlaw's reaction be to waking up one day to see not a trace of their darling, their hostage rescued by their cowboy brothers and uncles? (Or something more creative than this,, ^^"" ", i doubt that theyd leave him with lungs and eyes, let alone ALIVE after locating his whereabouts and saving their sweet lil pumpkin, thw baby of the family. My imagination can only take me so far an idk 😓💔)

Would Outlaw go after each individual member of the family down, on a furious witch-hunt in a bid to rescue their darling? After all, Outlaw has been on countless raids riding solo with nothing aside from a horse and his trusty shotgun, became infamous for being the West's deadliest gunslinger, has eliminated the wealthiest businessmen and robbed them of all their money, and made a career out of being a criminal.

Or would he accept defeat? This is clearly not a family to mess with, and it was a miracle that they hadn't put his beheaded head on a stake and set it on fire, condemnimg his corpse. He'd have to be a fool to risk this, wouldn't he? Was reader, his darling, really worth that risk?

Would love to hear your thoughts ! ☺️💞

ALSO SORRU FOE THE REALLY LONG ASKS I FEEL SO BAD BC I GDT CARRIED AWAY JDJSJAJAJASSS 😭😭🙏 PLS FORGIVR ME AAAAAAARRHEHSS

My sweet Anon, we simply must find a name for you ! Your ideas cannot go without an identity to which we can attribute their creation ^^. Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful mind with us <3 !

♡ This occurrence is very in-character for the Outlaw to encounter; albeit never on such an intimate level.

♡ He’s made enemies out of every criminal in the West – namely for resigning them to a life imprisoned while making off with his loot, gifting them a sentence he’d have served himself were he not so adept at the skill of escapism. In the early days when he first started working with other criminals, at least; he’d never make such a mistake now.

♡ You see, the Outlaw is the very definition of work smarter, not harder. So while he may seem as if he’s given up his pursual of you by hanging back, letting you go back to your family and re-integrate with civilised life, he’s tracking you. Watching you. Anticipating your every move.

♡ He’ll find you – eventually – but he won’t swoop in to retrieve you at the first opportunity; he knows that this will simply incur another rescue effort and his imminent execution.

♡ He’ll start to pick off the male authority figures in your family, starting with the weakest (however large and imposing they may be). 

♡ He knows that, without the leader, the pack will scatter, meaning that there will still be some of your family he missed during his executions – members who could still come looking for you upon discovering your kidnapping (again).

♡ Sure, picking off the weakest ones will put the strongest on-edge, but it keeps them packed together – around you – right where he wants them.

♡ The Outlaw knows of the Reader’s family’s reputation. He’s even met them during the occasional heist; opportunists by trade in their willingness to jump upon the corpse of the Outlaw’s victories as soon as his back is turned. But he also knows none are as keen and accurate a marksman as he, and he uses this to his advantage.

♡ While the Outlaw specialises in short-range firearms, he is more than capable with long-distance ones, too. And, once he lures your protectors away from you, he’ll ensure their execution is swift and unforeseen. He’ll perch atop a sturdy tree branch and steady himself, bringing the head of whoever fell for his diversion into the sights of a Whitworth he dusted off and brought from home.

♡ The minute he knows you’re all alone – that your uncles and brothers and cousins are too busy painting the town red with their bodies to stow you away – is when he’ll swoop in, plucking you out of bed and slinging you over his shoulder as he had all those months ago during your first meeting, winding you as he throws you atop his horse and bolting off into the horizon.

♡ So, to put it simply, Anon: yes. To the Outlaw, you are absolutely worth the effort.

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[yanderes-galore]

Low honor John with prompt 5, 10 by ddarker dreams

like father like son hehe

9/13

-🧨

My jaw is on the FLOOR at these prompts because of what they imply, so let me do my best to make this not all that triggering. Do expect creep behavior and possibly beyond that.... I haven't seen much of RDR's Low Honor John, but I have heard how he speaks to women... so.... Here's John being an icky man. Please be VERY wary of trigger warnings. This is MEANT to be revolting. It's low honor John, after all.

Prompts Here

Yandere! Low Honor! John Marston Prompts 5 + 10

"I’ve denied myself long enough."

"Your body won’t lie to me."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Creep behavior from John, Infidelity, Intimacy, Biting, Kissing, Forced "affection" implied (possible assault), Manipulation, Sexual themes but nothing happens graphically, Theft, Breaking and entering, John watches you sleep, Forced "relationship."

You are such a guilty pleasure.

Wedding vows mean nothing to a man without morals. Sure, John is a married man, one with a wife and son.... However, he's still almost drooling when it came to you.

Poor you had no idea you had attracted a man such as him.

You had "met" him when he was visiting your town. You were working with the general store, looking all cute in that outfit you always wore. He couldn't help but stare... giving you some "compliments" to see how you shy away from him.

It doesn't matter if you hate him... He wants a taste so bad.

You told him off each time he tried to be close. You called him sleazy, a creep. He doesn't deny such things... He's an outlaw, already scum.

Regardless of what you say, he's determined.

"You say that now, baby... but you'll be begging for me soon enough."

He was kicked out of the store, yet he's a persistent man.

John began to stick around after that last encounter. Often riding his horse into town just to hunt you down. Even at night he tracked you to your home, watching through your window as sick fantasies filled his mind.

God, He could feel warmth pooling in places it shouldn't.

John is Infatuated with you. Obsessed with the thought of you being his. You really know how to make a man question his wedding vows....

John couldn't help but get a little impatient. He'd spend hours away from home just to catch a glimpse of you. He always wrote to Abigail that he was hunting down members of the gang. In reality, he was watching you like a hawk from your window.

Sometimes John would try to court and woo you when you were out and about. He'd approach you, a crooked grin on his face as he speaks to you. His words are crude, his touches are inappropriate...

You even smell amazing to him.

You're adorable... He wants you so bad.

Due to his time with the Van Der Linde gang... John's a master at breaking and entering. He occasionally slips into your home to steal clothes or trinkets. Sometimes... He even just likes to watch you sleep.

John wants to make you his. He'd do anything to make you his. Including more unhinged acts... You just spark something primal within him.

He feels like a damn animal.

John can only watch you from a distance for so long. He's aware you simultaneously hate and fear him. Why wouldn't you? He's used to the wandering outlaw life.

But that won't stop him from making you his...

John loves a good challenge.

Poor you barely saw him coming. John was sure to memorize your routine, to know when you got home and when you went to sleep. John knew all sorts of things about you.

He's done all sorts of things to have you....

It was easy for him to slip into your home like usual. He either looked for a window or tried the door. Regardless... John quickly slips in, excitement coursing through him as he stalked through your home.

Poor you... just wanting to get ready for bed. Your back was turned, fidgeting with your sleepwear, only for John to lean against your doorframe. Even in your sleepwear... he's drooling.

"Hey there, sweetheart..." John purrs like a predator surveying prey. Even when you're startled you're adorable. "You look so cute tonight...."

"It's you...!" You gasp, heart frantically beating like a rabbit trapped by a wolf. John can't help but grin. He likes being the wolf...

He likes innocent little rabbits at his mercy....

"It is me..." John growls playfully. "Did you wear that thin little thing all for me? I knew you were interested in me, sweetie...."

"Get out of my house! You're deranged!" You plead, but such pleas fall on deaf ears as John stalks closer. Why would that stop him?

He's killed men he didn't like....

"I’ve denied myself long enough." John grumbles, yet his tone is excited. "You know how long I've been watching you? Having to use clothes to get by? I can barely stay loyal to my own wife... Not with you being all cute and coy...."

John sees you trying to duck behind him, but the outlaw is much more experienced. He wraps his arms around your torso, shoving you backwards roughly. You're pinned to the wall of your home quickly, his grip tight as his lips ghost against your neck. He can't help but press flush against you... carefully tasting your skin like he's a starving man.

"You say you hate me, call me disgusting... I've been called worse...." John mutters, eyes glancing up at you with desire. "I know you don't really hate me... Nah... You know we're meant to be, right?"

John kisses your neck, nipping at the skin with a groan. You feel revolted at his behavior, pushing against him. In response, John merely pins your hands to the wall as he nips your collarbone.

You freeze when he places a leg over you, caging you against his muscled frame.

"Sure, tell me you hate me. Tell me I'm horrible. Tell me you're not mine...." John murmurs against your flesh, using another hand to gently touch your skin. "But I know one thing for sure..."

John grins, a sadistic gleam in his eyes as he pulls you tighter against him, just to hear your whimper.

"Your body won’t lie to me." John chuckles, sighing softly. "You'll know you're mine... especially by the end of tonight, Darling... but don't worry... I'll be gentle."

John then cups your face, breath hot on your face as you tremble.

"Now... let me show you where you belong, Darling...." John coos, touch becoming a little less rough as he scoops you into his arms.

Tonight, John will finally get what he wants, you'll be all his tonight...

You'll be all his EVERY night... Forever.

[brujahinaskirt]

look i love john marston once and true i really do but listen if i were ms. abigail roberts

i would have shacked up with arthur so fucking fast after john ditched me his lil possum-man head would have been spinning on his neck way out in whatever hole he was hiding from the smoking ashes of my broken heart in. "stand by your man?" "give him space?" "take a chance that love exists?" no. i would not. i would have simply turned around and brought The Big Hoss to stable with EXTREME marston-negative malice. i know i know, arthur is sooo loyal he wouldn't leave dutch but yes he fucking would. we are not talking about some copypasta y/n buckle bunny here with no distinguishing features. this is ABIGAIL FUCKING ROBERTS. are you telling me if abigail "The Best Person Alive" (Arthur Morgan, "Abigail You're the Best" speech, 1899) roberts walked up to this babytalking Fatherhood And Other Dreams-addicted wifeless Wifeguy with a cooing toddler stuck under her arm and said "arthur you're jack's daddy now. arthur he's soooo small arthur. he's the size of a single grapefruit. arthur we have to protect your microscopic pea-sized incredibly tiny son" he would not have said Yes Maam and split that camp like the ass crack in a pair of Forever 21 jeans. i'm sorry to this woman but if i were Miss Thang the Van der Linde Princess Herself I would never have waited on a man (J*HN M*RSTON) to come crawling back to me. wait for what?????? i would have waltzed up to that sad sagging open concept tent, outstretched my gleaming ex girlfriend eagle talon and snatched mr I'm-a-Lonesome-Cowboy by his barely concealed raging domesticity stiffy and we would have blown that fucking outfit in two shakes and a holler. i would have ZOOMED onto that orhter-mahrrgahn-shaped gravy train at such fucking velocity you would not believe it. dump ME like a rusted can of peaches. oh no no no. could NOT be me. me and MY peaches would have been out of that whole marston sitchuation and making nice with big brother on a little homestead somewhere at mach 1 (one vindictive bitch) speed. leave me with a fucking baby sleeping on the grass. kiss my outlaw ass. not if I'M ABIGAIL FUCKING ROBERTS. john would have come stumbling back a year later dragging his jaw behind him like "huh??? wuut??? MY BABYCAKE IS WHERE??? WITH WHO" and the revelation that the bad bitch he tossed out with his toenail clippings was now eating bon bons or whatever on his brother's knee in callyfornya would car compact john's world into the size of a soup can. but i wouldn't bat one pretty eyelash about it because i would be spending my enormous devoted husband's train robbing funds on exotic fruits and fancy $15 token mugs and other dumb shit. john fucking god damned linguini legs marston. break my goddamn heart?? bet. arthur knows how abigail takes her coffee. jack would not even know who tf john marston is.

[scarlet-ancunin]

Okay what about Jealous / insecure Astarion 🥺❤️

A/N: ooh i know the perfect part of the game to use for this. so there will be spoilers for this story but if you dont care about reading spoilers like myself enjoy darlings~

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I Was Being Foolish~

It was after they reached Baldur's Gate Astarion was walking close to you while you walked past another store selling goods you didn't need. You had just finished declining the reward given to you in Sharess' Caress for your job well done.

You recall how distant and uncomfortable he was at first 'sorry pet, i just dont feel comfortable doing this yet' you felt bad for even thinking of doing it so you quickly told him you wouldn't let him do something he felt uncomfortable doing. His reaction made you smile 'ugh dont be so nice to me it makes me want to be nice back' he respond looking away. It made you have butterflies in your stomach.

You, Astarion, Halsin and Gale was walking towards the Elfsong to make lodgings there but due to your inability to leave things thay catch your eye alone you ended up getting side tracked by going to the beach following clues to another murder you found out about. And because you was nosey.

You ended returning back to camp with a guilty look "sorry guys i promise i will get us a nice bed tomorrow"

-

At the camp after planning out the next days events going to the Elfsong being the first stop then everything else that follows which everyone agrees to you decided this time you would take Astarion, Shadowheart and Karlach with you this time to give Halsin and Gale a break which they appreciated.

But as you was walking back to your tent which looked alot like Astarion's but who's really paying attention, you notice Halsin look at you as if he wanted to talk.

You wave slightly and he springs into the conversation "its because of you im able to see clearly now, and i thank you for it" he starts off smiling down at you "your Welcome Halsin" you commented only to hear him start to change his tone a bit not in a bad way but a way of....was you hearing that correctly? He wanted to sleep with you?

"You know im woth Astarion right?" Halsin nods "if he allows this to happen and maybe im hoping for his future participation. But first ask Astarion" you wasn't sure if your face was red but it certainly felt like it.

You turned and walked towards Astarion almost on auto pilot and he looked up from his book arching a brow with those lovely lips pulled to a half smile. "What troubles you my love"

"Astarion you won't believe the conversation i had with Halsin-" you startle slightly when Astarion burst out laughing "i was wondering when you was going to ask me about this"

"How can you tell?" You asked Astarion bends forward slightly "I guessed. The man can't stay quiet about "enjoying the freedom of natures gifts" " he snickers "i bet he outlaw clothing if he could" he waves a dismissive hand looking at you.

"I wouldn't have considered it, if it bothered you" you said truthfully. Halsin was the kind of man and body type that did make you curious to try, but you are staying strong with Astarion and always wanted to know his thoughts on it. And you study his reaction strongly.

"Im happy for you to have as much Halsin as you wish- but i do have one question though, its not because we haven't, you know in a while is it?" His voice was calm and Collected but you can hear the vulnerability in it as well the Insecurities that was bubbling to the surface. "Love what i have with you is wholly different and special to me" Astarion gave you a timid smile "Aww, i know i was being foolish, but thank you for saying it"

The conversation was reeling in your head as you walked back to Halsin who looked hopeful but you recall as you turned and walked away how Astarion's adorable ears twitched lightly and you could have sworn it lowered slgihtly as he went in his tent.

"Im staying strong with Astarion, i love him and i don't want to lose anything we have because of any carnal lust. Im sorry Halsin" he nods his head respectfully "its alright i don't wish to ruin your relationship. But im glad i tried rather then let it bother me and never tell"

With that you went back to Astarion's tent he was struggling to trance and you had a feeling it was probably your fault so you slip inside and close the tent for privacy and slowly wrap your arms around him securely. "I love you Astarion never forget that"

You felt the tension when you touched him slowly release and a soft sigh "i love you to darling and i will never forget it" you felt one of his arms wrap around you and both of you fell into a fitful sleep / trance.

No you wouldn't trade this for anything.

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆⋆♱✮☽🦇☽

A/n: well i hope you all like this, stay beautiful darlings. I can hear half of this while writing it lol

Request are open ye