#brothers-inn-arms

[attractthecrows]

🚶🏻‍♂️<- having the time of his life

[loki-cees-all]

Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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This had to be a joke. 

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet. 

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn. 

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now? 

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off. 

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?” 

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was. 

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard. 

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way. 

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?” 

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to. 

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?” 

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?” 

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.” 

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?” 

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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his. 

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned. 

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.” 

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.” 

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name. 

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…” 

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?” 

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides. 

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?” 

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary. 

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised. 

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. 

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were. 

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career. 

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it. 

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing. 

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung. 

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you. 

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension. 

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.” 

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…” 

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you. 

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again. 

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought. 

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would. 

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future. 

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight. 

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…” 

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle. 

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs. 

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage. 

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy. 

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?” 

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…” 

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night. 

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much. 

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through. 

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

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Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones. 

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor. 

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this. 

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor. 

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you. 

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.” 

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.” 

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.” 

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” 

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.” 

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.” 

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine. 

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.” 

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear. 

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself. 

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist. 

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…” 

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…” 

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling. 

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch. 

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving. 

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin. 

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours. 

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?” 

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans. 

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs. 

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth. 

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more. 

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?” 

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you. 

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. 

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work. 

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?” 

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached. 

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear. 

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!” 

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers. 

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen. 

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them. 

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?” 

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come. 

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his. 

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time. 

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours. 

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly. 

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips. 

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open. 

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips. 

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away. 

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together. 

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again. 

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh. 

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing. 

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…” 

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was. 

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again. 

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you. 

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first? 

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning. 

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close. 

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy. 

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ” 

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand. 

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.” 

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…” 

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously. 

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday? 

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully. 

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?” 

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

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[apocalypseornaw]

Not Just Dreams

Sam Winchester x Reader

Or maybe it's not just dreams

NSFW happenings

You hummed along to the radio as you cut up the strawberries you'd gotten at the farmer's market a few days before. The fact that Sam hadn't gone with you was still bothering you but hell the three of you lived together, worked together, all of you were due some time to yourself when needed but no matter how much you tried to ignore it you knew it wasn't just that. Sam had been pulling away from you for weeks and you had no idea why.

You heard footsteps behind you and thought for just a minute it may be Sam but your hope was squashed when Dean's hand slipped around you to snatch a few strawberries out of your bowl "Y/N, you seen Sammy?" You shrugged, trying not to seem like something was bothering you "He barely talks to me these days"

You turned to face him and saw the little wrinkle that popped up between his eyebrows when he was thinking hard. "You finally noticed that huh?" You let out a sigh, that meant it wasn't just you. Sam was indeed purposely ignoring you. You nodded, eyeing him carefully "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would ya?"

He shrugged "No clue sweetheart but I'll try to figure him out. We got a hunt so after you eat, get dressed and we'll hit the road. I'm gonna go wake see if he's still asleep or gone on a run" you nodded, watching Dean walk out before you grabbed your strawberries and a bottle of water and headed to your room.

You were everywhere, your scent surrounding him and the taste of your skin heavy on his tongue. "Sam" the whispered gasp of his name from your lips pushed him further towards that edge. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your top half was laid back against the counter of the kitchen, breasts on full display for his large hands to tease and grip. How it'd gone from making breakfast to him being buried inside of you he couldn't remember and didn't care. You were perfect to him, every damn inch, every little sound you made was music to his ears. "Fuck Sam, that feels so damn good" you cried, clenching around him.

"Sam!" Dean's deep voice mixed with his hand gripping Sam's shoulder had him jolting awake in the impala. Dean chuckled "Easy tiger. Don't think you wanna wake Y/N up"

Sam followed Dean's eyes to the backseat where you lay, peacefully asleep curled up under Dean's jacket. He nodded slowly,rubbing a hand across his face. "What was that dream about anyways man? You were making some noises"

Sam cut his eyes at his older brother who wore a smirk "Shut up Dean" the answer was Dean's laughter filling the car. You started to stir so Sam punched Dean's arm "You're gonna wake her up!"

Dean held up a hand, his laughter dying down "Sorry but man if you're having sex dreams you need to get laid" Sam rolled his eyes "I'm not having this conversation with you"

Dean shrugged "Fine. Your dream woman at least sounds like shes amazing" Sam's eyes barely flicked back towards your sleeping form but just enough that Dean caught the movement but chose not to say anything, a plan forming in his head as he drove to force the two of you to admit the feelings he knew you both had. "She is" Sam admitted in barely a whisper before laying his head back against the seat again.

The hunt had gone easily enough. A small nest was easily put down with no injuries on any of you, so you counted that as a win. The only thing that was left was to find a hotel to crash for a few hours before heading back home.

Dean pulled into the Golden Dove Inn. You groaned at the name but it looked clean enough. He parked near the office and cut his eyes from Sam to you "I'll be right back" when he disappeared inside Sam turned to look back at you "Your shoulder ok?" You nodded considering this was the most Sam had willingly spoken to you "Yeah. The ibuprofen helped so I know it wasn't anything serious" he nodded "Good"

Before you could say anything else Dean walked back out, carrying keys and a grin. When he climbed in the car he announced "You two can share right? I'm headed to that bar down the road and want the option for a little company"

You remained quiet, waiting for Sam's answer which came with him shooting daggers at his brother with his glare before saying "Yeah. That's fine"

After an awkward dinner of silence and Chinese food Dean headed to the bar so you claimed the first shower.

When you walked out the bathroom Sam walked into it without a word. You had no clue what you'd done to fuck up your friendship with him but it was weighing heavy on your heart. He was your best friend and you missed him. Hell he was more than that in your heart if you were being honest but you'd long since decided being his friend was better than risking losing him by admitting anything but now it seemed you were losing him anyways.

A part of you wanted to stay up, push him for answers as to what was wrong but you knew him too well to think that would work. He had to deal wth whatever was plaguing his mind on his own, you just wish you had some idea as to what part you had played in it.

----------------

Sam hesitaed when he stepped out the bathroom. A part of him hoped you were still awake but he honestly had no idea any more how to be around you without letting the memories of the dreams drift into his head. He'd had feelings for you for so long but he'd thought they were buried or had hoped for the sake of your friendship.

Instead he was met with the sight of you curled up on your side, hugging a pillow to you and fast asleep. Christ, you were beautiful. It made his heart ache.

He tossed his dirty clothes next to his duffle bag, praying for a dreamless night as he laid across his own bed.

You weren't sure what had woke you up but two things hit you the moment consciousness rushed back to you. One was that the room was hot, the next was Sam was muttering in his sleep.

You kicked the blanket off your legs and called his name, when you got no response you climbed out the bed to walk over to him but froze when you heard your name. Was he dreaming about you?

It felt wrong to listen but you were too curious as to what had gone wrong between the two of you to care. You paused next to his bed and your eyes widened when he rutted his hips against the bed and muttered "Fuck you feel so good" Sam was having a sex dream...about you.

-----------

He started to stir so you practically dove back into your bed hoping he hadn't realized you were fully awake. He sat up slowly and called your name so you acted like you were just waking up "Yeah?" when you sat up to look at him his cheeks were rosy and it took every ounce of self control you had to not glance down at his crotch.

"Is it hot in here?" "Very" you breathed hoping your voice didn't betray your thoughts.

Sam stood out of the bed and walked over to the small unit in the wall. He clicked a few buttons then smacked the side of it, "It's dead"

"Fuck" you growled, watching him turn up the ceiling fan with an apologetic smile. "Bet Dean's air works" you muttered before kicking the blanket completely off the bed, much to Sam's amusement.

He shook his head but grinned "Do you mind if I take my shirt off?" You shook your head "Naw cause you're about to get a strip show Winchester. I can't sleep in the heat"

----------

When he slipped the shirt over his head you found yourself watching the muscles in his arms flex. Damn he was gorgeous. He smoothed his hair back out his face then cut his eyes at you "Feel free to get comfortable. I'll even face the wall if need be"

You shrugged before slipping your t-shirt off considering you'd put a soft sports bra on under it just in case then slipped your shorts off your legs leaving you in the bra and a pair of black panties "You and Dean both have seen me stripped when I've gotten hurt. Hell modesty could kill in this line of work"

-----------

Sam tried to ignore how his cock twitched in the sweatpants he wore or how the comment about Dean seeing you stripped licked up a flame of jealousy in him. Fuck he wouldn't be getting any sleep with you wearing so little.

He took a deep breath then went back to his bed. He'd just laid down when you called his name. He turned to face you and you were mimicking his posture, both of you propping your head up on one arm to face each other "Are you mad at me?" He shook his head "Of course not"

"You barely talk to me anymore. Even now I feel like it's a struggle for you to meet my eyes" "No one could blame me for being distracted with you wearing what you're wearing" he blurted out, the shock on his face mirroring your own "What?"

---------

He groaned and pushed himself to be fully sitting up "We need to talk but can you promise first to not kick my ass?" You nodded, climbing out of your bed and walking towards his "You van tell me anything Sam"

The fact that he'd dreamt of you in a very similar circumstance didn't miss Sam as he stared at you. Your eyes were full of concern and it made his heart ache. He wanted you to feel the same, wanted to make every dream he'd had reality but the fear of losing you was overwhelming. "I've been having dreams about you" he admitted.

"Dreams?" You asked stepping closer and he swallowed hard "Yeah" your heart was beating wildly. Did he feel the same? Did he want you the way you wanted him?

-----------

"Sam, what kind of dreams?" You asked,stopping just shy of the bed to brush his hair back from his eyes. "Y/N we both know what kind of dreams"

You moved your hand down his face, smiling when his eyes fluttered shut for a moment before your fingers caught his chin, making him look at you. When his eyes met yours you saw the uncertainty there mixed with a need you felt in yourself "Sam, do you want to kiss me?"

He swallowed hard "More than anything and I just don't want one night. I want all of you for as long as you'll have me" you felt a smile split your face "Then claim what's already yours Sammy" you whispered and the moment the words left your mouth you saw an instant change in his demeanor. The uncertainty was gone.

"What's mine?" He echoed so you nodded, slowly climbing into the bed to straddle his waist "Claim what's yours" you repeated. The look in his eyes made you clench around nothing. He looked like he wanted to devour you and to say you were willing was the understatement of the century.

He gripped your hips roughly and turned, flipping you so your back was against the bed "Yes ma'am" he spoke against your lips before pulling you into a hungry kiss.

Sam moved from your lips down across your jaw to your neck. You gasped when he bit down on your pulse point then soothed the area with gentle kisses "Lay back baby, let me take my time" he whispered as his lips moved further down. You whimpered when his large hand cupped your breast through the thin bra "Can I take this off?" You nodded "Please"

You leaned up so he could slip it over your head. Once you were bare to him he froze, letting his eyes take in you bare under him "I'm awake, aren't I?" He asked lightly and you laughed, slipping your hand under the waistband of his sweats to grip his hard cock, lazily stroking it "That feel real?" He swallowed hard and nodded "Very" you grinned "Good. Now show me what those dreams were all about"

--------------

You were on your stomach, pillows under you to angle your hips just right as Sam rutted into you. Every thrust of his hips had you seeing stars as you felt his lips tease your bare shoulders, teeth lightly grazing the most sensitive skin "Fuck Sam. You're so fucking big, feels so damn good." You were barely coherent from the amount of orgasms he'd wrung out of you between his fingers, tongue and now his cock. He growled as he shifted to bury himself even further inside of you with each snap of his hips "Baby, you're so perfecting perfect, taking me so good. My good girl" he pulled your head back to catch your lips in a messy kiss, his hips never faltering their rhythm.

When you snatched away in need of air he chuckled. "You're so fucking gorgeous, all fucked out like this. Might want to keep you in bed, spread out for me" you'd never known Sam was such a dirty talker or that it'd be such a turn on. "Sam please I can't take much more" he kissed your neck gently "One more baby. Give me one more then I'll fill this pretty little pussy up and let you rest"

You whimpered but nodded. He slipped a hand under you and when his fingers found your clit your hips started to move back to meet his thrusts, needing to meet him on that high and ride it together. "You want to come with me huh?" You asked and you nodded "So damn sweet for me" he cooed, pushing your shoudlers down "Play with your clit for me sweetheart"

You slipped your hand under you, teasing your clit while he sat a punishing pace. You would be hoarse tomorrow from screaming his name but you could've cared less. You felt that pleasure building inside of you at the same time his hips started to falter. "Just like that Sam. Oh fuck" you moaned as the pleasure burst.

He buried himself deep inside of you with one final thrust, his release coating the walls of your pussy. He stilled then, hands massaging your shoulders and leaving light kisses "You ok Y/N?" He asked, voice full of worry. You laughed, turning your head to look at him "I think I love you Sam" he laughed lightly "Good because I know I love you"

@kindacher @janineb86

[tarot-archives]

please imagine laios who just came to the island. no connections. no background. he has his sister, a few coins in his satchel, and a dream. but it wasn’t easy. finding a job is tough. most of the time, it’s falin the other parties want, not him. they don’t have money to spare for extra weight.

laios the big brother. laios the supposed provider can’t even feed his sister proper food. he does odd jobs outside the dungeon for a good meal then they sleep under the stars. feeding was hard enough so a room was out of the question. they eventually joined the wanderers who sleep in tents and was kind enough to spare him a blanket.

in his job hunting, laios can’t help but be distracted from the inviting smell from one of the inns. his nose leads him to a dark alleyway, thinking that maybe if he ate his hard bread while smelling the aromatic food, his meal might be better mentally.

laios spots a dog from the back door. the puppy was had a rope on its neck as a leash to keep it tied. he couldn’t help but smile. laios squats down and plays with the puppy, a reminder of his past with having so many dogs and a cat. the black puppy enthusiastically barks and barks. it’s happy to have someone to play with after a while of staying in the cold. laios had the urge to steal him away. no one should leave a small thing like him in the dark.

the frequent barks caught your attention. it might be an intruder or your puppy was causing trouble so you had to go and check. your eyes land on a man, thin and possibly malnourished, playing with potchi, your dog. you don’t miss the way this strangers shined once the light hit his eyes at first. he quickly stood, towering over you in fact. despite being a tall-man yourself, your smaller height doesn’t testify your race.

this man was apologetic at first, then enthusiastic as the conversation continues. he talks about your dog, then about his experience with dogs, then he lectures you about dogs. needless to say you were interested. he was a walking archive, knowledgable and charming in his own way. he seemed harmless compared to the men who frequent the inn. big, burly guys with a bad attitude just because they can enter the dungeon and kill monsters.

his eyes however doesn’t meet yours. you followed his stare to the plate of food you had at the table. and on cue, his tummy rumbles.

“are you hungry?” you asked. he doesn’t deny his hunger and immediately says yes. his actions were like potchi during his meals. he’s cute, endearing, and excited. if he had a tail, he would be wagging it. “here, as thank you for the dog information.”

you bring him a plate of hot food (a bit of extra from todays pot) and he gobbles it up. save for a good portion he says it’s for his sister.

cute, endearing, excited, and thoughtful… he has this appeal. and goodness! don’t you know not to entertain men who play with puppies and have bright eyes. too much of those heart felt romance books warn about men like him. but you shoo your thoughts away.

“listen, you can finish up your plate. i can give you another serving for your sister,” you offered.

“thank you. you’re so kind… er…” i scratched his head. “i don’t even have your name.”

you tell him your name as he told you his. laios… you test it on your tongue. you don’t know why your heart is at ease just speaking his name out loud. you say it again with an offer this time, “come to the inn tomorrow, at 4 am if you can. we need extra hands to bring in new items. i’d pay you with food though, will that be fine, laios?”

he smiled brightly for a man previously starved. a new excitement bubbles within him with the promise to meet you again tomorrow.

“bring your sister too okay? food is better served hot after all,” you smiled. laios took you hand as he shakes it. his energy seeping into you through his hold, but the coldness of his fingers concerned you. “tell me if you need anything okay? us tall-man have to stick together.”

laios wanted to hug you. wrap his arms to show his appreciation, but he knows when to stop. he’s not that clean after all. so he settles with a hand shake, noticing how warm you are body wise and not just through your personality. “thank you! i’ll be here on time! i promise.”

soon after, you waved a final good bye to laios. excitement blooms within you as you wait for tomorrow to come as quickly as it could.

requests? open.

[sukunas-wife]

I don’t know who needs to hear this

But yes,

After teaching all day when Sukuna is laying in bed on his back shirtless because he hates the constriction when he’s trying to relax

he has his left arm tucked behind his head, eyes closed until you come and plop down on his right side with your back pressed to his side so you can rest your head on his bicep

He doesn’t open his eyes to look at you knowing he’ll only be greeted by the back of your head because odds are your tapping away on your phone

Time passes and he slowly moves the arm your laying on to hold you in a loose choke hold that used to scare the life out of you.

Now you just lift your chin slightly to rest it on the crook of his elbow

That’s his affection in the summer heat

He won’t turn to hug you, but he persists on holding you in a loose choke hold to assure himself you really are there

This happens a lot of places surprisingly, usually when he’s lost in thought

Example

The time you had to commute on the train with Gojo and Geto because Gojo was reckless and forgot to call ijichi back after scaring him off. It was the golden hour and you were tired refusing to sit knowing you’d sit and fall asleep and you would not have Gojo or Geto bullying you for snoring. So you stood by Sukuna back pressing to his side and arm as you yawned watching as Geto crossed his arms over his chest eyes closing as his head slipped forward when he fell asleep. Your head fell back against Sukuna’s shoulder and you yawned again. You stayed like that for a bit until you felt Sukuna move his arm, you leaned off of him thinking he was telling you to move until you felt his elbow hit your shoulder and his arm come up and squeeze your neck. You panicked briefly hand reaching up to grab his arm stopping midway when you felt him loosen his hold and sigh. “You really fucked this up Satoru.” Ryomen’s voice reverberated through your back as your head fell to the side to look at Gojo, he was holding a hand on Geto’s head pulling him onto his shoulder, “Yeah ye-“ he stopped, looking at the two of you, “oho, I knew you were a freak Sukuna but I didn’t know you’d be into choking our little y/n in public.” You let your chin fall against Sukuna’s arm supporting your head. Sukuna huffed, “Didn’t know a twink like you had the balls to talk out your ass.”

The second time it happened you were standing there talking to Fushiguro and Satoru about some “lesson�� plan but really it was Satoru trying to convince both of you to go to his end of the week work party. In all honesty he messed up and made Suguru mad and didn’t want to be alone with him while he was sober. So a work party at the barbecue place with drinks would be good enough to get Suguru off his case til the next day when he had to go off on a mission. Toji was trying to find an escape thinking the two younger sorcerers should talk their issues out as his wife had beat into him instead of using a buffer. Toji was about to say his wife needed him home, until Ryomen walked up behind you pulling you against his chest in a loose head lock, his other arm casually tapping away at his phone that he stared at uninterested as he spoke up “We can’t make it we have other plans Satoru.” Toji had a sly smile and a brow quirked watching both of you, he dropped a heavy hand on Gojo’a shoulder, “Good luck with your little lover’s quarrel.” Toji turned stopping almost shoulder to shoulder with Sukuna, “Might have to try that one out on my wife.” It was a lie, you all knew his wife would beat him over the head for ever treating her like that. But looking up you didn’t miss the side eyes and faint smirks they shared. There was no doubt they were true blood brothers.

The third time Sukuna had a mission, you just wanted to tag along to see how he worked on the field. It’s not like you hadn’t, but this time you’d get to see him up close. It wasn’t a long mission, but Sukuna always got the best stay inns when he did go on missions. So when he dragged out his mission to be able to stay in a hotel you were excited to tag along with him to the hotels fancy dinner. It was a tradition Japanese theme, polished carved wood, the dinnerware was hand carved wood if it wasn’t hand made porcelain dinner wear. You watched as the lady wearing a kimono brought your food, in beautiful porcelain bowls taking away your empty appetizer plates, setting down dishes of salads, soups and other side dishes before setting down a large tray of different meats. You perked up as she left you both to eat. Your stomach growling as Sukuna didn’t waste time in eating, you looked up at him with a smile, he seemed to be enjoying himself as he picked form sides eating meat and rice. You joined in until the plates were empty and you both left, the both of you had assumed since the school knew you would be joining Sukuna’s mission there would be a double bed room. To your dismay the hotel only understood it should be a single king size bed. Sukuna didn’t offer to take a sofa, saying the both of you would share the bed and that would be the end of it. Well as you both got into bed, you yawned rolling to your side to leave Sukuna more space, it was a surprise when you felt him yank you into his side, wrapping his arm around your neck pulling your back against his side, you turned to look at him watched as he yawned tucking his other arm behind his head. The arm around your neck, his hand rubbed over your shoulder as he finished yawning. “Go to sleep idiot” you couldn’t help but smile slightly as he yawned, a faint smile twitching at the corner of his lips as he closed his eyes.

Squishy Tag List

@sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl l @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

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[bl00dlight]

Maiden

Aemond Targaryen x OC lyseni brothel worker {NSFW} {RQ}

Warnings ● Misogyny, Classic harmful Westerosi male bullshit, canon Aemond incelness, smut, not proof read, mother issues, general woman issues, awkward ass vibes, mentions of violence, UNEDITED, etc etc

Word count ● 5.6k

Author's Note • This isn't QUITE the same as the request, but after ep3... well let's just say it's pretty clear Aemond really ain't the type to uh, treat sex workers with respect. I mean he never was... but this really plays into the whole incel book thing. Sorry y'all. Enjoy the fucked upness. Also sorry for any typos.

Masterlist

The few nights that Aemond Targaryen had spent visiting Madame Sylvie, were indeed - strange ones.

He had never thought he might return here; never thought he'd stomach the sight of the woman whom his brother had coaxed him to lay with all those years ago. It seemed as though Aemond could remember that fateful day, his thirteenth name day; down to the very last detail. What he had eaten to break his fast that morning, the feeling of his mother's weary smile beaming down at him softly, the bitter taste of the ale his brother had poured down his throat before pulling him towards the seedy streets of flea bottom.

He could remember all, but the memory of entering into Cock Inn, meeting the Madam. That, he'd somehow forgotten, only the knowledge that it had happened remained.

Yet, the first night he returned to Cock Inn, suddenly all returned. The aching saccharine scent of the perfumed air, the soft flesh of bare whores dancing and of course, the peaked eyes of the Madam as she looked upon him.

All were things that seemed to bring him back forcefully to the night Aegon had first brought him here, the night he first lay with a woman. There was still a hardened ache of disgust and humiliation in his chest regarding the matter, for it had not been an experience Aemond enjoyed. Even now, upon returning, he wasn't particularly certain he enjoyed fucking the Madame as he thought he should.

For he hadn't touched a woman since his name day, and strictly returned to the Madam for she felt familiar, known to him.

The prince rather preferred taking comfort from the older woman, laying upon her soft lap, the thick flesh of her arms and thighs cradling his bare body, her hands stroking his hair. She was soothing, understanding - of course only in a way a whore could be. Afterall, Prince Aemond was no fool to think the Madam's affections extended beyond the coin he paid her. Though it was clear she held some level of care - which for Aemond was more than enough to warrant his actions.

He needed to be soothed, cared for - especially after what happened with Lucerys. Especially since he could not bear to see the glimmer of disgust in his own mother's eyes. After all, Aemond had done for her, the sacrifice he had made in honour of duty. After all the years Alicent had willingly chosen Aegon to give attention to over himself. He had been starved of love, starved of affection. So, he sought it in the one place he knew he could get it: Sylvie.

He sighed, laying his head gently upon her lap, her fingers grazing his scalp. For a moment Aemond pretended the Madam was Alicent, that it was she who cooed and praised him softly. Who's touch was soft like silk upon his taut flesh.

Aemond closed an eye, taking in the warmth as the two lay upon a large circular bed, in which candles draped all around the stone ledge behind it. Despite the fact, he knew the brothel's surroundings to be the mastery of artificial comfort, lulling drunken men even further into depravity - he still could not help to take comfort in it. It was a welcome change from the often dreary halls of the Red Keep - which seemed more like the Sept these days.

The prince coiled himself even further upon the Madam, cuddling into her so that he might feel the plushness of her belly upon the back of his head. She felt warm, safe - in an odd way. She made him feel as though he was allowed to rip off the mask of strength he had so thoroughly integrated onto himself. Sylvie looked down upon him, slightly bewildered yet pitying the young man before her.

It was not until the familiar sounds of her protégé entered the room did her eyes wander from Aemond's silver hair. She looked up, noting the tray the young woman held. Upon it a small copper cup in which she had carefully begun to pour milk within its confines. Sylvie gave her a nod, watching as the young woman filed in, placing the tray near the bed.

The Madam rarely took in women and girls to mentor into the trade; however, her current protégé was undoubtedly one which was most promising. The day she had been bought by the Madame was a most memorable one as it was the first time she had ventured to Lys to select girls of a more prestige history - in order to attract patrons of noble birth.

She had remembered laying eyes upon the girl, Sierra, she was called, a girl of ten and two - born in a Lysene pillow house to one of the women who serviced there. She was a strange thing, soft spoken - unsure. She even looked particularly peculiar given the Valerian appearance of most Lysene citizens. Sierra did not bare the silver hair nor purple or pale blue eyes of those whom she lived amongst- instead her hair like aged gold and her eyes stormy.

The girl was odd indeed, not quite as lush or alluring as most Lysene, but rather moony. However, she was prized possession, most commonly sought by older noble men or the sons of Lords recently betrothed. Sierra was easily controlled, unintimidating, so in that way she seemed more like a Lady of the court that a brazen a brothel worker. Sylvie often sent her to men who wished to fuck a maiden and Sierra was most perfect for such desires as in all sense she truly seemed to be one. In that way she was perfect for Aemond, unthreatening as so many young whores could be – and most importantly would not remind him of whatever depravities he stifled down within himself.

“Come.” Sylvie gestured to Sierra, hailing for her to bring the prince the cup.

As she approached the two upon the bed, the prince peaked his head upwards, slowly sitting up and taking the cup from the young woman’s hand. Aemond had remembered her from his name day, remembered her wide eyes observing him and the Madam for a moment before ducking behind the silken drapes. He had always wondered what such a young girl had been doing in a brothel, remembered the coils of her golden curls flickering in the candlelight. Now, as he looked upon her after all those years, it was a reminder of how much he had grown too. She was a woman now, though still seemed just as uncertain of herself he remembered her to be.

Aemond downed half of the milk, his eye scanning her as he placed it back upon the tray, he caught the way Sierra averted his bare body. As he settled back upon the Madam, he rested his head right on her breasts, taking in the comfort of her warm flesh.

As he did so, Sylvie caught note of another worker peak her head through the silken curtains, her eyes wide as if to signal there was trouble that needed to be attended to, the Madam nodded and then caught the gaze of Sierra who approached the intruding brothel worker. Sylvie watched as the two young women were caught in a brief exchange, and it seemed that Sierra had been passed a small note – which soon made its way into the free hand of the Madam.

Patron trouble. Girl left bloodied, after a refusal of payment.

Sylvie then gave a nod to the waiting brothel worker, sighing softly as she knew this would be no easy task. The known rule of Cock Inn was for no harm to befall her girls, lest there be a tax placed upon any patron for the coin she would be unable to make in her recovery.  Though it wasn’t uncommon for patrons to become… unruly with her girls, and such behaviour was not tolerated at the Cock Inn as it was to be one of the finer establishments – meant for pleasure, not outright degeneracy.  For the most part the tax alone dissuaded most men from harming the workers, though for the ones that did – it was an arduous task getting them to meet the agreement of the tax.

Aemond closed his eye when he felt the warmth of Sylvie’s hand come to his chin, guiding his eye to meet hers.

“My prince…” Her voice soft, cooing, “It seems I must attend a rather urgent matter regarding one of the girls. I shall see to it that some of your coin is returned.” The Madam lowered her head, shifting away from him as Aemond raised his brow in curiosity.

He sat up, then, extended back to lean upon the stone ledge, “Hm, I shall wait your return.”

The Madam shook her head, rising up to her feet as she readjusted her robe, “This particular matter shall not be easily solved, I fear. I may not return for quite a time.”

Her head turned to meet the gaze of the waiting brothel worker, she then found herself pondering upon Sierra. Who meekly awaited the Madam’s next instruction, she cleared her throat before speaking to the prince once more, “Very well then… please allow for Sierra to amuse you in the meantime. She is particularly popular amongst many noble men as yourself.”

He shook his head, averting his gaze, “I’ve no use for her in that manner.”

“Indeed…” A small smirk came upon Sylvie’s face, she lowered her head, raising her brow as she chuckled briefly, “I mean for her to take my place... to satisfy such particular tastes of yours as you would have me?”

Aemond met Sylvie’s gaze, almost like a boy stubbornly resisting his mother’s advice, the Madam tilted her head, moving over to Sierra who stood; wide eyed and unsure. The Madam gripped Sierra’s arm, leading her closer to the bed, “She is most gentle.”

His eye narrowed and Aemond took a deep breath in, his chest raising in apprehension as he scanned the young woman before him. Her cherubic face, slightly trembling demeanour. He gritted his teeth and nodded, “Very well.”

With that Sylvie gave him a small nod of approval, before gently grazing Sierra’s lower back as she left. As the older woman made her way through the drapes, Sierra quickly followed; gripping her forearm softly causing the Madam to snap her head towards her. The young whore stuttered as she whispered, meeting the concerned eyes of her mentor, “Madam I…”

Sylvie sighed and brought Sierra closer, whispering firmly, “Just hold the boy. Do as you’ve seen me. Go, girl.”  She pulled herself way, giving the other worker a subtle nod as she was led away.

Sierra turned, taking a deep breath in to centre herself. She had never been with a man as powerful as the prince, never known such fear which coursed through her at the thought of what might happened to her if she was to displease him. Her hear thumped as she took that fateful step back through the haze of silken drapes, as she entered she felt the harsh gaze of that lonesome eye upon her, scanning her.

Aemond sat up freely, leaning back upon the stone ledge – uncaring that he was completely exposed before her. He let himself take her in, her willowing form which held a peculiar softness to it. The roundness of her breasts and hips which clung to the silk robe draping her form – the familiar flicker of her flock of curls which had turned a rich gold with age, a few bronzed and silvery strands peppered through them. He watched as her fingers delicately began to disrobe herself but her looked away. “Don’t.” The prince muttered.

As Sierra heard the smooth sound of his voice ring, she froze slowly looking up to him as she thought how odd he was to refuse her bare. Instead, he merely signalled awkwardly for her to join him upon the bed, in which she obliged.

She sat carefully upon the end, feeling the gaze of him boring into her back, Sierra lowered her head, “Do I displease you?” A soft tinge of her Lysene accent still lingering.

A small sigh left the prince as he shook his head and mumbled once more, “No.”

“You… you wish for the Madam.” Her voice soft as she turned her head to look upon him.

“We share a history.” Aemond spoke plainly, his eye narrowing as he gazed upon the young woman before him.

The soft flush to her cheeks, her skin plump and face still retaining the kiss of girlhood upon it, there was no mistaking the difference in her appearance to the Madam. He had noticed how despite the womanly graces Lady’s his own age possessed, they hardly appeared as grown at all in comparison to the older counterparts. There was something distinctively different to a mature woman, the way her cheeks sunk in a tad, or her skin would be softened with lotions to mask the tautness that comes with age. How their voices are deeper and eyes brimming with confidence, as if they know you all too well. In a way it was a comfort for Aemond, to have a woman understand his desire – to have seen so many men before that harboured similar needs, that for once, he did not feel so different in his depravity. The Madam knew just how to sooth and ease him, without judgement that so many younger women may possess. Indeed, there was no mistaking how Sierra was likely no older than himself.

He suddenly spoke, “What age are you?”

Instantly she felt her cheeks go red, her voice soft, girlish, “Eight and Ten, I believe.”

The prince raised his brow at this, slightly shocked at her coyness. He had never seen a whore blush before, it almost seemed like a jest, “You believe? You do not know how old you are?”

She let out a gentle breath before shaking her head, beginning to turn away before a sudden fierce grip clutched at her wrist. Seirra turned upon the bed, her eyes wide.

“Do not look away. Speak.” Aemond commanded softly, though a slight unease filled him at the sight of her uncertainty.

“I… I do not know of my name day?” She replied.

He tilted his head, once again shocked by her flustered appearance, and of course that she would not know of her name day. “You do not know?”

Sienna felt the soft satiny texture of the sheets below her, her eyes drifting downwards as she spoke, remembering her fractured girlhood, “I was born in a pillow house… my prince. My mother perished but a few years into my youth, I remember little.”

He bit his cheeks, studying her, “Hm, and your father?”

The whore looked up, her voice soft, “A mystery.”

As Aemond continued to scan her, he noted the way she altered herself in his presence – making herself appear small, less intimidating. A strange, amused look fell upon him as it found it both titillating and frustrating.  He spoke sternly again, changing the subject, “Your accent…tis strange.”

“I am from Lys.” Sierra replied.

The prince hummed, seemingly surprised, “The Valerian freehold? You appear more like a Lannister than Lysene.” He watched her as he shrugged, and he hummed again, “Hm.”

The energy in the air was rife with tension, not to mention a cloying awkwardness Sierra had seldom felt with other patrons. As though he was waiting for her to be the one to approach him, and that he was.

Fed up with his inaction she moved closer to him, noting the flicker of discomfort in his gaze – still the young whore pushed forward, positioning herself beside him. Aemond gave her awkward glance before slowly sitting up, looking out onto the lewd paintings on the chamber walls. He couldn’t help but feel a sudden nervousness, he had never been with anyone but the Madam, never touched a younger woman. He felt a vulnerability like none other, his face hardening as he began to withdraw back into himself.

“My prince?” Her voice faltered, exhaustion over the situation making her voice all the meeker, she didn’t wish to pursue him if he was to be like this. It was too much, she risked too much – the mere throughout of displeasing him and what he might do was enough to have her tense. But the mere fact it was he who seemed nervous, he who seemed unsure of himself – made the matter all the worse.

She reached out, attempting to draw him back, her hand brushing his shoulder.

“Don’t.” Aemond shifted, refusing to meet her gaze as he felt the touch of her fingers.

Another silence bloomed, and Sierra moved back, contemplating on what seemingly had set him off in such a manner. However, the thought soon occurred to her that she had never once seen the prince with any other but the Madam recently, that never once had she noticed or even heard of the King’s younger brother gracing the Street of Silk. It had only been that night all those years ago, a slight pity bloomed as she understood he was likely uncertain of how to even engage with a woman of his own age, so stifled by his own propriety, “You have been with no other… haven’t you?”

Aemond did not respond to this of course, only growing more angered and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself within. In fact, he began to regret even returning to Sylvie, he ought to have dealt with his feelings as a man would, focus on the war, on sharpening his mind and training his body. Readying himself to lead forces to take Harrenhal, not simpering like a boy in the arms of a woman… not even just a woman… a whore in fact. His thoughts were broken by Sierra’s silvery voice, “It would bring me much disgrace if I were unable to please you. The Madam would not have asked this of me, if she did not think me… fit.. for you.”

Her words though, seemed to tempt him once more and though he wished to resist it, he also feared the idea of her finding him so weak to be unable to face both his desire and lack of experience. With a small puff of his chest and stretch of his neck, he found his gaze hardening and mummering lowly, “Move.”

The younger woman followed his command, moving herself to the position in which Sylvie usually encompassed upon the bed, Aemond turned his head gazing over her swiftly before he moved to lay upon her hesitantly. Sierra looked down, her mind reeling as she had never seen a man behave in this way towards her… it was odd, though not displeasing. Slowly she brought her hand to his silver locks, gently threading through them, attempting to mimic what she had seen Sylvie do upon him. As the prince laid his head upon her chest, he felt himself unable to find the same kind of comfort as he usually did, his eye remaining open, the thought of giving in to such vulnerability in front of a woman such as she, seemed unthinkable. He couldn’t relax, shifting and readjusting himself endless and Sierra could sense as such as she cringed internally at the sheer gracelessness of it all.

As the prince finally settled upon her lap, he had managed to find a semblance of relief from the tension that made him restless. It was the familiar softness of her thighs, that same sweet and musky perfumed skin that it seemed all the whores, the Madam included doused on their skin. Gradually he had managed to close his eye, letting himself be taken by her hand making contact once more with his scalp.

“I… remember you.” She whispered.

Instantly his muscled stiffened at her words, Aemond didn’t reply, he only opened his eye.

“From all those years ago… and yet never again since.” Sierra whispered again, her voice sweet and girlish as she looked down upon the gleam of his silver strands.

The prince cleared his throat quietly, “Hm. I had no need to return.”

“And now?” She countered, though the prince did not reply, he closed his eye once more, ignoring her and focusing on the soothing pleasure of her fingers against his scalp.

“You have only been with the Madam-” Sierra began again before being swiftly interrupted.

His head turned upwards slightly, Aemond suddenly gripped her wrist, forcing her hand from his hair as he snapped, “I do not pay to have my intentions dissected freely.”

Sierra found herself suddenly stammering as she nodded fiercely, feeling his grip loosen upon her wrist as she slowly brought it back to his hair. Aemond gave her a warning glare before turning his head back, nestling his head further into her lap before he closed his eye. Silence bloomed… and awkward one at that.

As the prince lay there, awaiting for her to further such affections upon him he huffed, “You may do more.” He mumbled.

The young whore looked down upon him, unsure of how exactly to approach furthering her touch, nonetheless she lowered her head, her head turning slowly to look up to her. Sierra cupped his jaw and forced herself closer, straining her body slightly from the awkward positioning. Gently she let her lips kiss at his forehead and cheek, her hands moving his face slightly awkward and soon the prince himself shifted his frame to a more accessible position. His head now once again resting upon her chest, tilted upwards as she gazed upon his softly, he noted the way her eyes flickered as they lingered upon his sapphire eye.

Sierra went to kiss him away, but Aemond suddenly grew discomforted – feeling a particular sting of insecurity of his face. He had never been so close to a woman of his age. Never been touched by skin which was plump with youth. His jaw clenched as he pulled away slightly, but the feeling of her cool hand came to his face once more drawing him near, “You are unsure.” She read him.

“No.” Aemond replied firmly, though it was a lie.

Sierra shook her head, scanning him carefully, “Do you not think I might know when a man might feel…tentative? You have not known the touch of others; I do not blame- “

“I am not some simpering boy who has not fucked a woman. Do not presume to know the reason behind my hesitation.” The prince snapped in response, his temper flaring as her words struck a chord so exact it made him reel, for he knew she was right. Knew that he had indeed never been with another but the Madam, and even that had been a affair spurred on by recent events. The Madam felt easiest to approach, easiest to reveal himself to. She had already seen him at his weakest, frozen with fear and disgust as a young boy. Spurred on by the taunting of his brother. Who else was he supposed to turn to with such desires, who else would give him comfort in the way he needed?

He stiffened attempting to regain the well curated mask of infallibility though he could not stifle that familiar nervous restlessness which dawned upon him again the wake of her silence.

Sierra let her gaze fall, seemingly thinking on his words. Though she ignored them all together knowing they were merely the deflections of a young man who felt his ego wavering at the notion of his inexperience. The young whore looked up softly and before she could stop herself, “I wish to show you.”

Prince Aemond merely blinked at her, shocked by her sudden request. The two shared what felt like an eternity in stillness and like that he nodded, no other words being exchanged.  

Sierra almost couldn’t believe he had agreed so… easily? There was a small moment of uncertainty between them as their bodies shifted once more, Aemond sitting upwards gazing at her expectantly as she disrobed herself. His eye couldn’t help but scan her tender form, the peaks of her breasts, the blooming swell of her soon to be developed hips; a young maid’s body – not yet enhanced by motherhood.

She settled back into her spot where he could coil upon her again and that he did. Her gaze lowered as she noted how his soft strands felt upon her bare skin. Slowly she brought his hand into hers, guiding it to her breast, letting him knead the soft flesh. Aemond found himself unable to fight against his desire carefully watching the way his fingers grazed the bud of her breast. A soft moan escaped her, making him buzz with desire, he did not resist when feeling her other hand guide his head closer, he wet his lips before leaning in further to clasp them upon her nipple, suckling softly.

The young whore let out a soft whimper, moving his hand lower, “You may please… a woman by touching her.” She guided his hand between her wet folds, letting his fingers graze her clit.

The soft mewls which left her lips set off a fire in him, the feeling of her wetness on his finger made him want to work to pleasure her more. His lips clasped her nipple harder, his soft suckling intensifying as his fingers rubbed quickly, inching to stick themselves inside her. Sierra grabbed his silver hair gently, pulling him away, her eyes meeting his lonesome one.

Aemond felt his cock stiffening greatly and slowly she let her hands come to his chest, his body shifting as he cradled himself against her. Sierra found herself grasping at the length between him, stroking it gentle to gauge his reaction – which was all but enamoured with pleasure as he shut his eye, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

Her hand moved, stroking at him feeling the softness of his skin in her palm – as she did so, her lips peppered small kisses upon his forehead. Sierra was gentle with him, despite the lewdness of the act – her touch and tenderness was a comfort the prince was indulging in. He raised his head up; a soft groan left him as he forced his lips into hers. For a moment he would pretend she weren’t just a whore, but a woman who’s feelings were that of true care. As her hand increased its speed, Aemond let out a low whimper into their kiss, moving to force his lips on her neck.

Sierra tilted her head, closing her eyes as she too found herself letting go to the heady feeling between them. He was much different than the usual man who might use her, he seemed less interested in fucking her and more interested in being tended to. So that’s what she did; slowly Sierra pulled her hand from his length, a soft muttering of protest leaving him.

“Lie back.” She whispered, and Aemond obliged.

His eye was narrowed with need as he gazed upon her, watching as her soft frame now hovered over his own. Slowly he raised a hand to her cheek, feeling the smooth skin that flushed pink upon his touch. He watched her with a keen eye as she lowered herself down further, settling between his legs. Aemond shuddered a breath, his eye growing wide as he felt his heart thump wildly; suddenly he felt like a boy again – struck by an awkward inability to verbalise his desire. Though Sierra already knew, as she lowered her head, kissing softly upon his hip as her hand wrapped around his length once more.

The sight of her doing such a thing made him furrow his brow, her lips pressing so gently into his taut muscle made him feel a tad unmanned; mainly because he enjoyed it. Aemond brought a hesitant hand to her hair, deciding that he would indeed take control for once, that if he were going to let a whore take him – he would attempt to assert his desire.

As his fingers laced his spindly fingers into her curls, forcing her head lower until he felt her lips graze against his aching tip. “Take me.” He grumbled.

Her eyes looked up to his as her mouth came to clasp his tip, swirling her tongue upon him; the fleshy, yet salty taste that dripped from him filling her mouth. Aemond’s own mouth dropped, his jaw slightly slack as his head tilted back, he felt his fingers tightened their grip in her curls, slowly moving her mouth to take more of him. The prince opened his eye, looking down as a strange satisfaction brewed from the sight of it, her mouth taking as much as he wished it to.

Another groan left him as she moved her lips up and down him, gaining traction as the moments passed, his hips now bucking – fucking himself into her mouth. He forced her head upon him faster, and Sierra let him as she hollowed her cheeks – siphoning him to the point where his moans turned to pants. Her own sounds falling from her as she too felt a strange enjoyment from seeing him take so much pleasure.

He kept pushing, his cock now an ache in which he needed relief from, Aemond’s mouth hung once more as he mumbled, “Faster.”  To which the golden haired whore before him did so, her hand now enveloped around the tail end of the base of his cock, stroking it so that the orchis’ which hung between him were grazed – sending him into a further frenzy.  Thoughts of wanting to push himself between her thighs filled him, a fantasy of what she may feel like around him, how her arms would wrap around him, cradle him; it all made him huff. The pressure that built in him felt more than pleasurable, it felt like a burning flame had been set off in his loins; at this point he could hardly care about the comfort Madam Sylvie brought him, now all he could think of was how he longed to see his seed force its way into Sierra’s mouth.

 Then a tinge of anger filled him, frustration as his grip intensified as he fucked himself into her mouth – edging at his release. He felt like his brother, depraved, hungry with a force he had stifled for so long. But the thought of a whore striking such feelings in him suddenly left him feeling slightly conflicted, almost angered by the sight of her bringing him such pleasure. Aemond’s hand tugged harshly upon her hair making her wince and she looked back, confused by the sudden streak of aggression, to which in her uncertainty she began to pull away.

“Keep going.”  The prince choked out, his voice low and soft… yet, oddly threatening.

Aemond reeled at feeling small snaps of her curls break in his hand. Sierra slowly finding her mouth back upon him, siphoning him as quickly as possible though she began to tremble slightly. Afterall, this was no common patron, she could not warn him of the brothel’s code of conduct – for he could very well burn the place to a fucking cinder or worse, have their heads for an accused treason… or in an effort to purge Kings Landing of its sin. The Gods know it would not be the first time whores were blamed for the depravity of men’s desires.

It filled him with a familiar streak of satisfaction as he watched her buckle beneath him. Glory flooding him as the pleasure of her mouth brough him finally to his peak and the events of recent flashing through his mind as he rode out his long awaited release. That flash of fear upon his face reminded him of who he was, and what he was capable of. Afterall even his uncle… The Rogue Prince himself had sought for him to be slayed in his sleep.

 Daemon feared him, his mother feared him, his grandsire… the Blacks…and now the whore between him feared him. They should. He thought.

The sentiment lingered as he felt his peak slash through him, spilling into Sierra’s now hot mouth. He looked down, satisfied though disgruntled. He was quick to force her off of him, interrupting her as she went to speak. It was clear Aemond did not wish to hear what she had to say.

Uncaringly, he rose to his feet, his cock still stiff and buzzing, he reached to dress himself – feeling the soft, unsure gaze of the whore who still sat upon the bed boring into his bare back. He ignored her, unwilling to admit the pleasure he had brought her, or the vulnerability that had been seen of him. It was gone, just like that. Done away with.

As he felt himself calm, a focus coming over him as the blood rushed from his length. Without another word he abandoned her, sauntering through the Cock Inn, the sounds of passing moans flooding his ears and perfumed air attacking his senses. Clarity. Is what he thought.

Clarity that he did not need to bury himself in a whore like his brother. He had greater control; he was indeed a man of finer stock. What need did he have to give in to not only a young woman… but a whore. Born so lowly she was conceived and birthed in a pillow house. No, Aemond would take the pleasure and comfort he had gotten and focus his mind elsewhere.

At least until such desires demanded easing again.

[hibischush]

Hii! Could you write March falling in love with the farmer and everyone around him noticing but the farmer? I think it would make him go completely crazy xD

sure thing! 🌺

March didn't even realize it until Elsie literally spelt it out for him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He bristled, crossing his arms against his chest.

Elsie let out one of her elegant laughs and patted him on the shoulder. 

"Sure you don't, dear."

March blinked.

Elsie's eyes widened with surprise. "Oh my stars! You truly don't know, do you?" she guffawed, and everyone in the carpenters' shop turned to look at them.

It was odd to see Elsie here whilst Olric and himself visited Landen and Ryis, but not entirely unbelievable. What March didn't expect was for him to be mercilessly attacked by the older woman about his love life.

He blushed. He shouldn't have mentioned that stupid farmer. 

"Everyone knows that you have harbored feelings for the farmer, honey. There isn't any shame in admitting that."

---

It developed all too quickly a few months back. It was March's birthday. And it was raining.

He really didn't mind that it was so dreary-- he was going to work for most of the day and then celebrate with his brother and Ryis at the Inn.

He sat behind the counter, rolling a pen up and down the table. Not many people come in to purchase weapons or armor. Except for that infuriating farmer.

March has had to make several suits of armor for them, every time upgrading in quality and materials. And every time he would remember their exact measurements to ensure that the armor would fit on them perfectly, and that it would be the best pieces of metalwork he would ever produce. Not that he would ever admit that to them, though.

The shop's door swings open, and March's heartbeat ramps up as he recognizes who it was.

"Hey! Sorry for dragging in all this water." The farmer, drenched from head to toe, beams at him as the door shuts behind them.

His breath hitches. Their clothes, sopping wet, cling perfectly to their frame.

He coughs. "What do you want? You just got an armor upgrade. Do you actually have a life? Or is all you do is mine?"

They rolled their eyes, a smirk still gracing their lips (not that he was looking at their lips), "Oh March. You never change. Even after all that copper and tesserae."

They saunter over to the counter, and March inhales sharply through his nose, hoping the extra oxygen would help his head function around them.

"I came to give you a present! Happy birthday, March." They smile softly, handing him a small box that was wrapped with care. He took it cautiously, and nearly jumped when their fingers grazed against his own. He tried to push the electric feeling down. 

Attached to the bow that held the lid down was a slip of paper with his name written by the farmer on it. Eyeing them suspiciously, they only smiled and nodded their head encouragingly. Pulling the bow and the lid apart, he was pleasantly surprised with what he saw. Amazed, even.

It must have shown through his expression, because the farmer began to explain themself.

"I was on one of the lower levels of the mines, and there was this untouched chest stuck in the dirt. I dug it up, and lo’ and behold..."

Sitting on a velvet pillow laid a shiny golden band, which was formed into an unfinished circle. Instead of joining in the middle, the two ends were molded into a pair of dragon heads, with what looked like tiny sapphire eyes.

March's throat dried. He struggled to understand why someone so sweet would give him something like this despite the poor way he treats them. His face got hot, and he silently struggled to fight tears pricking in his eyes.

"March?"

He panicked. "This better not be cursed."

The farmer laughed. "I promise,"

They stood there for a second more. It almost seemed as if they wanted to say something else, but instead they just gave a small wave goodbye and turned towards the door.

Just as they reached the doorknob, March yelled their name.

"Th-thank you. For the gift." He mumbled.

They smiled. "You're welcome, March."

When they left, he felt his heart drop as he sighed. They'll never realize what they do to him.

--

March turned to Ryis, begging via eye contact for his friend to save him from this overbearing granny matchmaker.

Ryis only shrugged. "Sorry, man, but it's true. I've seen the way that you act around them."

"What do I act like?!"

Ryis recalled the time that the farmer hugged him after he gave them the bracelet he made them. The carpenter said he didn’t know that he could even get that red, especially after the farmer told him that ‘it was the most thoughtful gift they’ve ever received,’ and that March was their ‘closest friend.’

Before he could retort, his brother stepped up. He explained that March almost poured molten iron on the floor instead of the ax-head mold while he was checking them out. "C’mon dude. Even I can pick that up." Orlic chuckled.

"March, I've lived a long life, and with the way you stutter around them...everyone knows that you're interested in them." Landen butted in.

Elsie sighed, “And what’s worse, the only person who hasn’t noticed is the farmer,” she turned to March, “I don’t know how much more obvious you could be, dearie.”

This farmer was going to be the end of him.

March's face feels so hot it's almost like he stuck his head directly into a crucible filled with molten copper. He covered his face with his hands.

"All of you suck." March mumbled.

Did I get too carried away with this? Yes. As always, hope you enjoyed 💗

[roploem]

Teen Shen yuan becomes a little guy au:

*deep breath before rant*

So, Shen yuan dies, but at like 15-16 years old and becomes like 9. He is freaking out because he was just in the car with his family and wonders if they are dead. But soon the system informs him that they are alive and well. (In this au Shen yuan does read PIDW, but is more reserved about it)

Shen yuan is relieved until he finally looks around and realizes that he has become a street kid. He starts to panic because he doesn’t know how to do basic tasks because he was a rich and spoiled kid before.

After wandering around, he decides to help clean up vendor stalls at the end of the day for some coins. He gets some decent money from that, about a week later when he buys some food he sees 2 kids hiding near his “house” (it was a dead end alleyway that he built a small wooden like structure to help him hide from the weather). After answering some questions, the system promptly disappears and doesn’t return until Shen yuan gets to a certain plot point.

He approaches them and asks what they are doing, startling the daylights out of the kids. Shen Yuan is much taller than these little kids who he assumes are 8 and 6 years old. The younger one is much more hostile while the other is more kind.

After giving them some food and allowing them to stay with him if they wanted to, they introduced themselves as Yue Qi and Shen jiu. Shen yuan wants to ask why they are named after numbers, but doesn’t because it doesn’t seem like a good topic. (After Shen yuan introduced himself SJ had a mini crisis about wether or not they are related)

Soon the kids start calling Shen yuan, “Yuan-ge”, although Shen yuan was embarrassed at first. They ask Shen yuan to be their big brother, and shen yuan then remembers his little sister… and agrees because he loves these kids. Although… Shen yuan is upset when they don’t allow him to come near the other kids on the street…

A couple years later, SJ is 12, YQ is 14, and SY is 15. They have been living in an inn that SY bought for them to stay, but most of the time YQ and SJ aren’t there and won’t allow SY to follow them…

Suddenly one day YQ runs into their shared inn room with a panicked expression, when SY asks what happened and where SJ was, YQ broke down into tears on the floor, begging for forgiveness for not protecting Xiao-jiu.

At night both YQ and SY break into the Qiu manor and find SJ chained in a room. With Shen yuan’s knowledge from his past life, he was able to pick the lock from the shackles and escape. (His parents in his past life wanted all of their kids to know this after SY passed out in his room with the door locked)

As they were escaping, some of the night guards heard their footsteps and began to chase them. Once they got close to the outer wall, Shen yuan told them to go and he will catch up quickly. Bothe YQ and SJ declined this idea, but SY explained that if he doesn’t, they will all be caught.

So SY runs and makes noise in a different direction while YQ and SJ run the other direction with tears streaming down their faces, hoping that their Yuan-ge stays safe.

Somehow, the only thing Shen yuan got away with was a broken arm and a bruised eye. When he made his way to their inn, he was beginning to slowly pass out, when YQ and SJ showed up to help him walk.

Next

(This is a little long so I’m going to make a part 2 soon…)

[tenderleavesbob]

Legend didn't see what the big deal with Warriors was. He guessed his brother was okay looking, if one ignored his smug grin. He certainly didn't understand why so many people bothered his brother, especially when Warriors made his lack of interest clear. There had to be other options.

When some asshole slapped Warriors's ass in the tavern, Legend definitely didn't get it. Warriors was a bony asshole with a flat ass. It was annoying, but not too big of a deal.

It became a big deal when Warriors froze instead of smacking the man's hand away. It stayed a big deal when the man didn't move his hand from Warriors's ass.

With a furious curse, Legend drew his arm back. That was the problem with being a hero: the need to step up when someone else wouldn't or couldn't.

That was how and why the first punch was thrown. Legend was unclear about the second or the third. At some point, Twilight and even Sky joined in. For such a sweet guy, Sky had an amazing hook. Legend was impressed. Warriors snapped out of his not-scary-at-all daze when someone threw a punch Legend's way, and then it became a free-for-all.

By the time the local soldiers, and Time, broke it up, it gained the title of The Great Brawl. They would discover later that the fight would live on in local history books. Legend also walked away richer for it, because like hell would he let the guy who groped Warriors walk away with his wallet. Or that nice magic ring on his thumb. Or the shiny knife on his belt.

Time dragged everyone back to the inn before the soldiers could see them. Sky looked awkward with something Legend couldn't make out in his hair. Twilight hunched on himself, and if he had his tail right then, Legend knew it would be between his legs. Legend glared at Time, defiant because he refused to be worried. Warriors was a big boy who was the least intimidated by Time of all of them, and he didn't look concerned by their situation at all. In fact, he looked barely with them at all, his gaze distant and his dirty face pale.

Legend met Time's gaze and raised his chin. Time frowned at him and glanced at Sky and Twilight, who quickly looked away. If Warriors noticed the perusal, it didn't show. Time's frown deepened. He looked back at Legend, who only scowled back. He didn't know what happened with Warriors, but he knew it wasn't his story to tell.

Instead of the expected lecture, Time sighed and shook his head. "We'll talk later. Go wash off the smell of mead and go to sleep."

As much as he hated the smell of mead in his hair, Legend lingered. Warriors didn't move at all. Time caught his eyes again and jerked his head. He had this, whatever this was. Legend narrowed his eyes at him. Time had better have it.

When Legend started walking away, Warriors spoke for the first time all night. "Thanks, Leg."

Legend scoffed and waved his hand, walking away at last. Anytime, he didn't say.

In the morning, he still didn't discover what had happened with Warriors, but Warriors was back to his old self and Legend woke up with a small pile of unknown crystals and a strange fang shard by his bed. He would take it.

For now.

[gabessquishytum]

King Robert tends to sneak out of the castle a lot. His advisors and guards despair, trying to impress upon him the danger of the monarch just wandering around villages. They argue even beloved monarchs have enemies who might seek to hurt him while he's dallying about, outside the safety of the palace and his armed guards. The King nods and smiles......and continues to sneak out.

Hob, please don't call him "king" or "Robert," loves getting out of the castle! It's not like regular people really know what a king looks like, even if it's their monarch. When he's out Hob is amazed by his people.

Hob has helped raise a barn, brought in crops, been taught to knit by sweet old ladies, celebrated one of the pagan-ier holidays in a village square (the mead and food were fantastic), got into numerous sword fights to defend the honor of young ladies and men..... It's fantastic and real, and Hob would argue it makes him a better king.

Yes, Hob is aware that his various counselors (and his mom the Dowager Queen) want him to get married and stop venturing out, but all the stuck up potential consorts or soooo stuffy and entitled. Hob does think any of them have helped dig a well for a town that needed water or helped celebrate the birth of a new baby in a village pub!

Besides, there might be this beautiful new artist in town, Dream, who rents a room over the inn and takes simple commissions, who is so lovely. Hob is working so hard to be charming and learn more about him,,,but Dream is tight lipped as to where he's from. Still Hob knows he's wearing him down.....Hob got a small smile from his targeted buffoonery last time!

👑🤴🏽👑🤴🏽

Since they won't stop, Hob has decided he's going to see if he can convince Dream to marry him! Marrying him has to be better than those self serious "royals". But when he goes to see him, Dream is gone,, like he was never there. Hob is heartbroken.

He guesses he's meant to marry one of the snobs. He lets his council choose. They decide to accept the Endless Kingdom's offer - Prince Morpheus.

This is the romcom we ABSOLUTELY deserve with these two beloved idiots <3

Hob is disconsolate after Dream leaves - he doesn't even have the heart to sneak out of the castle. The villagers are quite worried about him until he finally turns up one evening, basically to say goodbye to all his friends. He explains that a spouse has finally been chosen for him, and that as a married man it will be inappropriate to go out gallivanting and putting himself in potential danger. He will have a duty to spend time with his new husband, too. And his friends all understand - they accept his heartfelt invitations to the wedding. He's brought gifts from the castle for all the kids who've basically adopted him as a big brother. And he definitely sheds a few tears in the arms of the old ladies before he leaves.

Meanwhile, Prince Morpheus is en route to his new spouse's kingdom. He doesn't want this marriage at all, but after he ran away (and then got caught and dragged back home) his parents forced him to accept to situation. They won't even tell him where he's going or who he's marrying - a punishment for his disgraceful behaviour! Dream is fully expecting to be married to some awful old man. But when he gets out of the carriage he finds himself in a rather familiar place... he almost laughs out loud! He quickly has to pretend to be heartbroken over the impending marriage, when he really he's nearly vibrating with excitement.

They don't meet until they get to the altar (it's tradition, for royal marriages). Hob’s eyes light up and he looks over towards where his village friends are sitting like "are you seeing this??? it’s dream!!!" Everyone else is quite confused about why King Robert suddenly looks so happy, but his friends are able to heartily applaud the marriage. He truly deserves to be happy!

As for Morpheus - or Dream, as he prefers to be called - with the wedding officially performed, he can throw himself into Hob’s arms. His parents are pissed off to see their wayward son looking so content, but Dream no longer cares. The fates have been kind to him, and delivered him into the arms of the only man he has ever wished to marry. He can't wait to spend many years sneaking out of the castle with Hob, getting up to all kinds of mischief, and finally enjoying life.

[soulessjourney]

Vengeance Trail

Paring: Billy the kid x Reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: You and Billy had known each other during your younger years. However, following an argument, you departed to forge your own path, leaving things on bad terms between the two of you. Years later, circumstances led you back, having been recruited to assist John Tunstall. As the war drew nearer, tensions resurfaced between both of you.

Warnings: Slight mature themes nothing too detailed, Billy not knowing how to make up his mind

A/N: So this was supposed to be one long drabble but I got 4k words in and wasn't even half way through so I will now be turing this into a small series.

Your life hasn’t been easy. For years, you had to fend for yourself, even as a young girl. At such a tender age, loneliness was your constant companion until you met him—Billy McCarty, as you knew him. It all began in Kansas, just days after their arrival. His mother, a kind and gentle soul, his rowdy and energetic brother—these were the first faces you encountered. But Billy stood apart, calm and soft-spoken, especially towards you. Little was known about Billy’s father except for his ailing condition upon their arrival. When he first encountered you, you weren't dressed like the other girls in town. No, clad in a simple, dirty white cotton shirt and brown-stained trousers, mud tainting your braided hair, you were as fiery then as you are now.

Billy swiftly became your closest friend after your initial meeting, and the two of you were inseparable. You stood by him during the loss of his father, just as he stood by you when your parents abandoned you for greener pastures. The McCartys became your surrogate family, and you were willing to sacrifice everything for them. After his father's passing, the McCartys decided to seek new opportunities in Santa Fe, extending an invitation for you to join them.

As your new life unfolded in Santa Fe, you chose to assist Billy's mother at the inn, doing everything in your power to ease her workload. You shielded her from advances made by older men and helped restore order after brawls erupted in the bar. But over time, Kathleen and the others grew distant. She met a man who prompted her to move in with him, taking the boys along, while you remained stuck living at the inn, toiling tirelessly to make ends meet. As you and Billy matured, a shift occurred between you two—a growing chasm that led to that pivotal, fateful night.

Standing in your room, you tucked your shirt into your trousers before slipping on the boots. "Y/N, don't do this. You're not thinking straight," Billy urged, positioned near the door to impede your departure. Rolling your eyes, you tied your hair back with a ribbon, keeping the strands from obscuring your face.

"It doesn't matter, Billy. My decision is final. I can't spend my life here in the inn or aiding you in poker, especially after what happened with Carlos," you retorted, arms crossed, referencing the tragic incident that occurred last time you attempted to help him. "This can't be my life anymore. I have no family, and constantly fending off the advances of older men isn't the future I want."

"You have a family, Y/N. We're your family," Billy insisted, attempting to reason with you, taking a step closer.

"You're not my family, Billy. You ceased being my family when you left me here to work for my bed," you replied firmly, brushing past him to retrieve your gun belt from the nearby chair. If there was one thing you appreciated about Billy, it was his lessons on shooting, and you had become quite proficient.

Billy followed closely, his voice growing desperate as he tried to persuade you. Moving around his brother and acknowledging Kathleen with a nod, you stepped into the night air. "Fine, leave. But where will you go, Y/N? You don't know how to survive out there on your own. You'll end up dead in a ditch, and I can't bear to bury another friend," he implored, quickening his pace to block your movements.

Shaking your head, you reached your horse, a striking brown and white paint, and began fastening your belongings. "I'll figure it out, Billy. I grew up alongside you. I'm confident I can handle myself. But I'm tired of stagnation. What happened to the Billy who dreamt of running away with me, exploring the world? You're not the same friend anymore. I'm happy for you and your mother, but I need to discover who I am, and I hoped you'd support me in that," you murmured, pausing your actions, refusing to meet his gaze.

Waiting for a response that never came, you mounted your horse and rode off into the night, leaving Billy behind, watching you vanish from his life.

---

A few years later, you had earned quite the reputation, becoming one of the most renowned outlaws. To conceal your past, you adopted a new alias, known to many as Sadie Bennet, while others foolishly dubbed you "The Wolf," a title you found entirely absurd but resigned to endure as there was not much you can do besides complain. One of your crew members had rationalized the nickname, claiming it suited you because you tracked your targets before striking, often appearing as a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Seated not far from the bar, your hair cascading down your back, you leisurely sipped on whiskey. "Ms. Bennet, I assure you this deal will benefit you. Your marksmanship is unmatched, and we desperately need your expertise. Mr. Tunstall won't rest until we secure your assistance. While we may not match your previous compensation, he's vowed to collaborate with you to clear your name," the man before you spoke. He appeared relatively young, likely just a few years older than you.

Setting down your glass, you arched a brow, sucking air through your teeth. "Mr. Bowdre, I appreciate the offer, but as I've reiterated, a petty power struggle isn't in my best interest," you stated, adjusting the suspenders chafing against your skin beneath the blue plaid shirt. "If Mr. Tunstall is genuinely in dire need, he should make a personal appeal. His absence leads me to believe otherwise."

Charlie ran his hands over his face, growing increasingly desperate, an almost amusing sight. "He's away on business, Ms. Bennet. That's why he can't request your services in person," he explained, using a word that made it seem as though you were peddling yourself to men, a notion that irked you.

"Very well, I'll consider it. There's not much occupying my time currently. I'll head to Lincoln County in a few days. There, we can convene and discuss details further. I have a few loose ends to tie up here before departing," you announced as you stood. Noticing his instant relaxation upon your agreement made you ponder just how desperate they were for your aid. Retrieving your hat from the table, you brushed it against your brown trousers to rid it of any table dirt before placing it atop your head. Tipping your hat, you offered a faint smile before pivoting on your heel. "I'll see you in a few days, Charlie. Ensure Tunstall is present; it would be nice to meet him after your vivid descriptions," you remarked, striding out of the saloon, unaware that accepting his offer would soon thrust you back into the life of a close friend.

---

As promised, you arrived in Lincoln County a few days following your conversation with Charlie. While making your way toward town, you were intercepted by Charlie himself, evidently waiting for your arrival. "Ms. Bennet, welcome! We were starting to worry that you might have had a change of heart," he greeted you as you turned your horse to face him, a smile gracing your lips.

"Nonsense, Mr. Bowdre. I may be many things, but I always keep my word. I said I'd come, and I intend to follow through," you replied, meeting his contented smile as he guided you toward his house. Though the ride had been somewhat lengthy, the scenery was undeniably picturesque. Looking up, you caught sight of an eagle soaring above, circling twice before disappearing. Closing your eyes, you reminisced about the last time you had seen an eagle. It was just after your departure from Santa Fe, when illness had nearly claimed you. Lying on the ground, an eagle had soared overhead, and you'd tracked its every movement before succumbing to sleep. Days later, you'd awoken in an unfamiliar bed, unsure of your whereabouts.

"Mr. Tunstall will be delighted to meet you. We have a few others more directly involved in our operations. They'll also be present to greet you. Don't be put off; some of them relish being intimidating," Charlie's words interrupted your thoughts, eliciting a soft laugh from you. Shortly after, you arrived at a small ranch, where a woman stood waiting. Radiant and evidently excited to greet the man beside you, you assumed she was Charlie's wife, judging by the ring adorning her finger and her joyful expression upon seeing him.

Dismounting your horse and patting her gently, you followed Charlie toward the house. Taking a deep breath, you entered and glanced around. It was a lovely, well-organized home—neither too crowded nor too sparse. Charlie guided you into the living room, where you paused, noticing a group of men engaged in conversation. Some appeared older than you, while one around your age gazed out the window.

"Mr. Tunstall, gentlemen, I present Sadie Bennet," Charlie announced, prompting the men in the room to straighten, catching their attention. The young man by the window turned towards you, causing your heart to skip a beat. Standing before you was your old friend, Billy McCarty, though markedly different from your last encounter. Life had evidently molded him into a hardened man. His widened eyes and the way he uttered your name revealed his surprise and disbelief at seeing you again.

Tunstall scanned you before removing his hat and extending his hand in greeting. "Ms. Bennet, I've heard a fair amount about you from Charlie, including the challenge it posed in persuading you to assist us," he remarked, his smile softening as you firmly grasped his hand. Indeed, you hadn't been the easiest to recruit, having encountered Charlie multiple times before, his persistent attempts at recruiting you finally wearing you down.

"I apologize, Mr. Tunstall. I wasn't initially certain about joining this endeavor. However, Charlie's persistence eventually led me to agree. I hope my delayed acceptance didn't hinder your plans too significantly," you offered, ignoring Billy's intense gaze as he positioned himself beside you.

"That's quite alright. What matters is your presence now, and your skills will undoubtedly be invaluable. Now, allow me to introduce you to the others," Tunstall said, shifting his focus around the room. "This is George," he gestured to the man on his left, "and you're already acquainted with Charlie." Charlie offered a reassuring smile, leaving only one person to introduce.

"Finally, we have B—" You abruptly interrupted Tunstall, turning to extend your hand.

"William Bonney, it's a pleasure to meet you face to face. You're quite the celebrity; I was concerned about competition for the title of most notorious outlaw," you jested, noticing a subtle change in Billy's expression. Unsure whether it was anger or disappointment, you shrugged it off. Arching your eyebrows, you awaited his response, but as he made no move, you scoffed and turned back to Tunstall. "Well, as famous as he is, he certainly lacks manners," you grumbled, crossing your arms, eliciting a surprised cough from Charlie, who attempted to suppress a laugh.

Billy cleared his throat and shook his head. "I apologize, Ms. Bennet. That wasn't my intention. I was merely surprised to encounter a fan. It's delightful to make your acquaintance. Please forgive my lapse in manners," he said, his gaze fixed on yours.

"Oh, I'm not a fan, Mr. Bonney. Just pleased to meet the most wanted man in several counties," you shrugged, distancing yourself from him. "Mr. Tunstall, can we discuss my involvement privately? I won't commit until we've reached mutual terms," you proposed. Tunstall nodded, dismissing the others, and you shot a lingering glance in Billy's direction. Removing your gun belt and placing it on the table, you settled into a chair. "Tell me the details of my role."

Tunstall positioned himself opposite you, crossing a leg over his knee and folding his hands. "As you're aware, there's a feud between Mr. Murphy and me. He's a power-hungry man, exploiting the land and its people. He indebts them, then employs unsavory means to seize their property. I'm sure you're familiar with his tactics." You nodded, feeling a simmering rage within. "We aim to confront Murphy, reclaim the land, and provide these people with the rightful homes they deserve without enduring such hardships. I require your skills to assist in taking him down. You and Mr. Bonney will offer exactly what's needed to dismantle Murphy's corrupt hold."

As you reclined in your chair, Tunstall's words raced through your mind. This man was willing to fight and die for a cause—bringing a better life to Lincoln County—and he sought your aid above all. "Alright, let's assume I agree to assist you. What assurances can you provide? I'm not interested in money; I seek something more secure and dependable," you challenged, noticing Tunstall's surprise, though it didn't shock him, especially given your reputation.

"I can offer you an opportunity to clear your name. As far as I'm aware, you're wanted across at least four counties, three of which have bounties on your head. However, by assisting me and transitioning away from the outlaw life, I can advocate for you. I'll speak to judges, emphasizing your change of heart and commendable actions, working to eradicate those bounties against you," Tunstall proposed. The offer held undeniable appeal. Clearing your name from charges that weren't your doing in the first place seemed like a tempting prospect.

Nodding, you contemplated the offer more deeply. "Very well, I accept these terms. I'll collaborate with you to take down Murphy and assist in your objectives. But it's crucial that you uphold your end of the deal, Mr. Tunstall," you affirmed, running your fingers through your hair. "Now, could you tell me further about William Bonney?" Tunstall's eyes brightened as he eagerly briefed you on what he knew about your former friend.

---

That evening, you lay outside, your coat serving as a makeshift pillow while your gaze remained fixed on the stars. A gentle cool breeze kissed your cheek and nose, while the nearby fire crackled softly. Your eyes flickered open as the sound of footsteps approached, halting beside you as a figure settled down. "I didn't expect to see you roped into all of this," Billy spoke softly. "Honestly, I thought you were gone for good until I spotted your wanted posters everywhere. Who would've guessed you'd dig a deeper hole than mine, but I suppose stubbornness runs in your veins, so that's no surprise," he said, glancing down at you.

Sitting up, you drew your knees to your chest and released a sigh. "What do you want, Billy?" you asked, pressing your lips together tightly. "Don't expect anything from this. I'm here solely to clear my name, not to mend something that shattered a long time ago," you added, redirecting your gaze back to the starlit sky. Billy sighed and fiddled with his fingers, uncertain of his next words.

"I tried to find you. After my mother passed away, and I was falsely accused of a crime, I searched for you. I assumed you'd moved on to another town or two, but you were nowhere to be found. Then I kept hearing about this remarkable woman named Sadie Bennet—how impressive she was, especially for a female outlaw. It wasn't until I saw your wanted poster that I knew it was you. Part of me felt relieved, but another part wanted to keep searching," Billy confessed, joining you in gazing skyward.

"I wasn't far when Kathleen passed. I'm sorry for your loss; she was a remarkable woman," you began, "I knew you were alright, still alive, as people talked about you often. Imagine my surprise when they accused you of murder. I couldn't believe it because you were always about settling disputes, not escalating them to violence. No matter how much I might have disliked you, I couldn't believe those allegations," your words struck a chord, leaving him silent.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he uttered quietly. "I took advantage of your presence, assuming you'd always be there for me, even when I distanced myself. You were a constant in my life, and I took that for granted. Life turned into hell after you left, and realizing my mistake hit hard when I didn't have you to turn to anymore. Joe was furious with me for weeks; he blamed me, rightfully so."

"Don't blame yourself, Billy. I left because I needed more than the life we had. Our rift was just one part of why I left; it's not solely on you," you said, meeting his gaze filled with sorrow. Wanting to comfort him, you hesitated but then pulled him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Stop looking so forlorn, Billy. You're not alone; there are people who care."

Billy wrapped an arm around you, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. "The reason I regretted it so much was because I was in love with you. You meant everything to me, and you showed me what it felt like to be truly wanted," he whispered softly, tightening his embrace. You remained silent, uncertain of how to respond to his confession. When you attempted to pull away, he shook his head, drawing you closer. "Please, just listen. I was so deeply in love with you that my mother was helping me gather the courage to confess my feelings. But then you vanished, leaving me with unspoken words and a heap of regrets."

"Billy," you murmured, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "You carry so many burdens and regrets. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. You didn't deserve to feel alone, and I regret leaving you in that state. I had feelings for you too, but when you distanced yourself, I took it as a sign and fled like a coward," you confessed, feeling his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumb caressing your skin. Lost in each other's eyes, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.

His lips felt weathered against yours, yet the kiss conveyed volumes of unspoken emotions, making you disregard any roughness. Your fingers entwined in his hair, gently tugging on his brown locks, and a subdued moan escaped as he pulled you into his lap. Breaking the kiss, Billy placed a tender one along your jawline before meeting your eyes. "Let's head inside. It's getting late," he murmured, guiding you along. Pausing just outside the spare room, he kissed you again before ushering you inside, where the evening was spent memorizing each other's bodies and sharing quiet confessions.

---

The next morning, the sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft golden hue across the room. Stretching your arms, a smile naturally spread across your lips. For once, you felt truly rested, and the usual ache in your back was noticeably absent. Sensing movement behind you, you felt an arm around your waist draw you closer. Memories of the previous night flooded your mind, and you suppressed a smile as you turned in bed to meet Billy's bright blue eyes. "Good morning," you whispered, gently cupping his cheek.

His lips curved into a sleepy smile as he tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. "Good morning," he mumbled back, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on your lips. Pulling away, he nestled his head on your shoulder, his arm holding you tighter. "Do you think we should come clean about knowing each other?"

Running your fingers through your hair, you pondered his question. "I'd say we might have to. There's hardly any believable excuse, especially after last night," you chuckled, placing kisses along his jawline. "But we should probably get up and start our day," you sighed, only to squeal as he playfully rolled on top of you, tickling your sides and eliciting high-pitched laughter.

After some playful moments and shared affection, Billy rolled off and got up, heading to the small bathroom. Lying on your stomach, you observed him dressing and attempting to tame his tousled hair. Catching his gaze, you noticed a flicker of something before he grabbed a black shirt from the wardrobe. Handing it to you, he sat on the bed, tracing his fingers over your exposed back. "I'll head downstairs while you get ready. I'll try to hold them off until you're ready to face the grilling," he said with a playful eye-roll, making you stifle laughter in the pillows.

Eventually, you sat up and planted a lingering kiss on his lips. "I'll see you downstairs, cowboy. Don't let them chew you up," you teased, rolling out of bed. As you started dressing, you ran a brush through your hair, noticing the red marks on your neck and collarbone. Groaning, you tilted your head back, silently blaming Billy. Once dressed, you made your way downstairs, overhearing hushed whispers. Some sounded teasing, while others seemed more disgruntled, likely discussing you and Billy. Walking into the room, you stood behind Billy, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Good morning, gentlemen. How was your night's rest?" you greeted them with a wide smile that faded as Billy distanced himself from your touch.

Charlie greeted you with a small welcoming smile while Tunstall settled into the chair at the table. Positioning yourself next to Billy, you observed him, puzzled by his sudden shift in emotions. "Sadie, or should I say Y/N, what exactly is your relationship with Billy?" he asked. Part of you hesitated, uncertain of what to say, as his expression demanded nothing but the truth. Before you could respond, Billy interjected.

"There's no relationship. Last night, we both had a bit to drink which led to events that should have never happened. I want to apologize for our actions. We have more important things going on, and we should have been more careful." His words hit you hard, and your face contorted into a mix of horror and shock. It was a mistake—this whole situation. Just moments ago, he appeared content waking up beside you, but now you felt reduced to a mere error. Clenching your hands into fists on your thighs, you bit the inside of your cheek to restrain any comments on the brink of escaping.

"Billy is right, Mr. Tunstall. We both got carried away, and I'll ensure it never happens again. I allowed myself to become too vulnerable around someone, and I shouldn't have." You managed to force the words out, your voice strained. "Now, if you boys excuse me, I need to tend to my horse and maybe explore the town to familiarize myself with the area," you grumbled, rising abruptly and causing the chair to scrape against the floor.

Charlie stood up swiftly. "I'll join you. Perhaps I can give you an overview of the town and how everything operates." You nodded at Charlie and left the kitchen, purposefully avoiding looking in Billy's direction. Charlie followed closely, slowing his pace as you reached the horses.

"What truly happened between you and Billy? Anyone who can read a room can tell that you're more than just a drunken mistake. So, what are you to him?" Charlie inquired as he mounted his horse.

Swinging yourself onto your horse, you shrugged. "I thought I meant something to him, but I should've known better than to believe his words. I apologize if things were awkward this morning, Charlie. That wasn't my intention at all." You offered him an apologetic smile as he joined you on horseback. A part of you wanted to cry and vent your frustration after Billy's sudden indifference. You had opened up to him and comforted him, only to be discarded once again. Last night felt too perfect to be true, but it hurt to realize that you had exposed yourself only to be hurt in the end.

Charlie shook his head and regarded you as the two of you began riding towards town. "You don't need to apologize, Y/N. Sometimes people change, and sometimes they change in a matter of minutes. All you can do is look ahead and move on. You're a wonderful and kind young lady. Billy just doesn't know what he's doing," Charlie consoled. Part of you felt weak for letting Charlie comfort you, but his words resonated and lingered in your mind. He was right. You couldn't let this consume you. All you could do was fulfill your duties and keep moving forward.

[billybangbang]

Rough Hands, Soft Skin

Butcher x reader

Trigger: Just fluff, and the reader is in pain. This is all self-indulgent.

Butcher had been back for two weeks from his suicide mission blowing up Stillwell. You all had been hiding out with Frenchies contacts below a pawn shop. It was not the Fourth Seasons Inn but it would beat being held by Vought at a Black Ops sight. You had been a University student before all this happened. Now you have lost everything, no contact with any of your friends, no going to classes and finishing your PhD, no family, absolutely nothing. You had been holding on to the hope that one day you could come out of hiding. And all you had to hang on was your Thesis. It might have been stupid to continue working, researching and writing on your paper but it was all you could hold on to.

 The others left you alone for the most part, except Butcher who continuously made off handed comments about your ‘work’. “Ain’t ya’ a Goddamn opptimist, ay luv. Hate to burst your bubble, sweat’art but this ain’t gonna have a happy ending. So why don’ta put that head of yours to good use, would ya’? You would look at him with an uninterested expression not caring what he had to say. You would pick up your laptop and your books and go to your room. Or what counts for a room in this shit hole. At least you were one of the lucky ones who had a small bed in a closed room. You did not know why you had gotten the room, or that Butcher had ripped the boys a new one when he came back and saw you were sleeping on the sofa in the middle of the ‘living’ room. “Ain’t you a bunch of dumb cunts, aye? Whatcha think some guys, you don’t even know, walking in here, looking over seeing someone tasty sleeping on the couch?” Ever since the deal with Becca, Butcher had been especially protective of the women around him, at least the ones without superpower. He had kicked Hughie out of his room, under your protest, and now it was your room. 

You walked towards your bed, sitting down cross legend and leaning on the wall. You worked like this for hours, until late at night when you were sure most people were sleeping. Your back was killing you, especially now sitting on a bed hunched over, your breast weighing you down even more. But you could not sleep, you could never sleep. After another cramp in your arm, and a twinge in your shoulder you got up. Getting all your books and laptop you walked out towards the kitchen/operating table. Pushing aside some drugs and straggling guns, which to your surprise felt so normal, you put down your stuff. You were getting yourself some water, not aware that you had eyes on you. Butcher watched you from the couch where he was taking up residency for now. He had been watching you for days now. Seeing the exhaustion, the struggle to keep your back straight and you always popping your neck. He knew this situation was tearing on The Boys. Normally he would tell everyone to suck it up and get on with it, but he had to admit he had a soft spot for you. He could not understand it, he knew why he was easy on Hughie. He was like his little brother. But it took him by surprise that he was also fond of you. 

He watched you for a little while, unable to sleep himself. You were sitting on the table, your brows furrowed, constantly going back and forth between writing something on your laptop, reading something in a book and taking notes. He had no idea why you would be willing to do this. Sounded like hell to him sitting in front of a Laptop and typing away. He was always more of a get shit done type of guy. Pain and struggle, physically exhausting himself until he could not keep his eyes open anymore.  

You stretched your neck for the fifth time, groaning when you pressed your fingers into a knot in your left shoulder. It had been bugging you for days, and only got worse, but you refused any drugs from Frnechie. You might be a dealer now but you knew not to take the products that you are selling. You leaned back into the chair and stretched your back, a loud pop rippling down your spine. “Fucking ‘ell, aye. Got bubble wrap in ya spine, or what?” YOu jumped at the rumbling voice. You saw Butcher laying on the couch, one arm behind his back and one leg propped up. How could he make being sprawled out on a couch so alluring? 

“I guess you have never written a paper before.” You turned away from him trying to focus on you writing again, bracing for any mean comment he had brewing up in that head of his. You heard rustling, and footsteps coming closer. It made you even more tense. Butcher stood behind you leaning forward to see what you were writing. “Ain’t really in a line of work you have to fill out paperwork, ya kno?” You raised an eyebrow, “True that.” 

The clacking of your fingernails on the keys sounded in the room, Butcher had been standing behind you for a few minutes not saying anything just watching you work. No comment, just arms crossed, watching. It made you feel something akin to annoyance, nervousness and discomfort. You hated people reading your work before you knew it was as close to perfect as it could get. You just tried to ignore iit and keep writing, when another wave of pain ran up your arm towards your neck, pulling your head towards your shoulder. Butcher huffed behind you before you held his big warm hands on your shoulder. It made you jump, shooting him a questioning look over your shoulder. Grimacing at the movement you turned towards your laptop again. “Ya’ gonna break your back if ya’ keep going like t’at.” He just left his hands on your shoulder, the warmth felt nice. “Yeah well, I don’t think a broken back will be what kills me…” “Yea’ I guess ya’ write, that don’t mean you gotta make it harder for you.” You huffed, close to tears now, from the pain and the exhaustion. You leaned forward putting your head in your hands. “It’s all I got,” you whispered through tears. 

Butcher watched you hunch into yourself, you appeared so small in that moment. He knew how you felt, holding on to the one thing you had and trying to act like that one thing will get you through it. Breathing out slowly, his brows furrowed he pushed you back towards him. His hands were still on your shoulder, making you straighten yourself. He slowly began tracing your neck and shoulders, feeling the knots underneath. He slowly started rubbing one prominent knot on your left shoulder. He applied as gentle pressure as his tough hands were capable off. You hissed out in pain. Even though it was painful, you breathed out in relief, his hands working on. He pushed his thumbs in your shoulder blade drawing up, you let out a painted moan. “‘s okay, just relax,” he encouraged. You closed your eyes, just focusing on your breathing and how warm his hands felt on you. “Can you–” You pointed towards a knot below your shoulder blade. He gave you a grunt in acknowledgement and tranced his hands down towards the spot. “I gotta ya’, luv.” 

Butcher continued working on your back and slowly you began to relax, leaning into him even more. You started to become sleepy and your paper was completely forgotten. “Feels good,” you mumbled. Butcher smirked to himself, feeling his heart racing a bit at your words. 

Your breath hitched, when he pulled your sweater to the side, his hands touching the bear skin on the nape of your neck, massaging down your right shoulder. His hands were rough, weathered by the work. You could feel the calluses on his, his smell inviting you senses. It was all him. The rough edges, the tobacco smell, the spice musk. All you wanted to do was sink into it deeper, until it was all you could feel, see, smell. 

Butcher now was loosely touching your skin, most of the knots loose now. But he did not want to stop feeling the softness underneath his finger tips. He had felt you slowly relax underneath his hands, making him feel like he had accomplished something today. You had a way to sooth his mind and he wished he could just wrap his arms around you, feel your skin underneath his hands, while drifting off to sleep. 

You had leaned into him, your head resting on his chest, his hands wandering down your arms below your sweater. You were so exhausted, you could not keep your eyes open, slowly falling asleep without realizing. 

Butcher felt you getting heavier, smiling to himself. “Common, sweat’eart. Let’s get’cha to bed.” You let out a “hm,” but made no attempt to move. Chuckling to himself he stepped back, your head falling back before you woke up a bit catching it. He walked around towards your side, and suddenly you were lifted up. Butcher had wrapped his arms around your back and underneath your legs. If you were not so tired you would have felt yourself going hot at the action. But now all you did was lean your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. 

Butcher walked towards your room, pushing your door open with his foot. Papers with notes scribbled on them littering your bed and floor. He sat you down on the bed, holding you up with one arm and pushing the papers off the bed. He chuckled to himself, thinking if you were awake you would smack him over the head for this. You slowly layed down, curling yourself in your arms. Butcher took your shoes off and pulled the blanket out underneath you. You grumbled at all the rustling. You scooted closer towards the wall, the small bed leaving little room. Butcher thought about it for a bit. He wanted to lay down and hold you while you slept. Yet, feeling your soft skin underneath his fingers and the difference between his weathered hands and your smooth skin made him pause. Instead he pulled the blanket up toward your shoulder, allowing himself to trace your arm one last time before turning around, softly closing the door and making his way back to the couch. 

[starrluvs]

bihan with a super girly gf who has a decked out pink room covered inn stuffed ajimals and clothes

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 + 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄! 𝐒/𝐎

cw: fem reader, hyper fem reader/girly girl reader, i hope bi han isnt too ooc, established relationship, loss of virginity, piv sex, corruption kink, oral (m and f receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, reader is a lil cock drunk, mdni pls :)

wc: i typed this up on tumblr and not docs so idkkk T^T

a/n: this is crazy because i had thoughts about this sort of trope with bi-han omg.... i've done this in a headcanon format with both sfw and nsfw, enjoy and ty nonnie! ALSO TYSM FOR 300 FOLLOWERS🫶🏾💗

SFW

grumpy anger issues bf x hyper girly-girl gf

everyone around the two of you questioned what brought you guys together

'opposites attract' is indeed true

when he first seen you, bi-han was taken back at how much you stood out

you were dressed head-to-toe in pink... it was somewhat strange to him, but with the way his eyes couldn't peel away from your figure, he knew was interested in you

once he starts to interact with you, he finds your personality oddly endearing

you were so passionate about whatever was on your mind and he was fond of that

watching and listening to the way you rambled on and on about how many squishmallow's you've collected and how much more you're missing was surprisingly intriguing

seeing the way your eyes lit up the more you talked about collecting these bizarre 'stuffed creatures', as he called it, threatened to melt his supposedly iced heart... just a little bit

when the two of you start dating, things get interesting

bi-han has been to your place quite a few times now, and the decor of your room makes him feel out of place every single time

seeing your room covered in pink with all your stuffed animals, pink frilly clothes and makeup...

it just matched you so perfectly, and he was the complete opposite...

he also has some nicknames for you that include: doll, love, flower, snowflake, and one that he uses due to your own request; princess

having to introduce you to the lin kuei was quite eventful

he was grateful to know you didn't get scared and run off once learning his profession, making him proud to have you by his side

once meeting you, bi-han started taking off more time from his duties, which only started to spread rumors of the grandmaster potentially dating somebody

if anyone dared to intrude his privacy and ask about why he's been so much more absent than usual, he'd snap and tell them it doesn't concern anybody except himself

so once the clan seen bi-han walking side-by-side with you, showing you around for the first time, everyone couldn't take their eyes away from you two

the way you were all dolled up in a pink frilly dress that matched your heels and thigh high socks while clinging to bi-han's arm so lovingly with a beaming smile was baffling to all the clan members, especially his brothers

(just imagine kuai liang playfully nudging tomas and telling him 'i told you, he was definitely seeing someone this whole time')

bi-han cared deeply for you and everyone was able to tell

everybody found out about the grandmaster commissioning a separate room for you to have customized however you'd like because you didn't enjoy how 'dark and sad' the blue and black tones of the lin kuei and bi-han's room were

he even went to the extent of getting custom made gowns and robes for you to wear around the lin kuei that were in whatever shades of pink you wanted

he loved the confidence you had and how much you didn't care about sticking out like a sore thumb

it's exactly what he needs in a partner by his side

overall, bi-han will always treat you like the princess you are <3

NSFW

bi-han was your first ever intimate partner, and him taking your virginity made you feel so much more connected to him than you already were

knowing this also swelled the love bi-han already had for you

it made him feel like you truly belonged to him. only him.

your body drove him wild, and your sounds felt like they casted a spell upon him

the first few times you two were intimate, he would attempt to be softer so that you could enjoy yourself

"bi-hannn, it f-feels so- haah, good..." your eyes were watery with tears and your glossy lips were left in an 'o' shape

he was above you, pinning your legs back and thrusting into you at a moderate pace

"you’re doing amazing, my little snowflake, making me so proud…" his praise made your heart flutter as he guided and helped you while taking in all of his length

his eyes were trailing back and forth between your erotic facial expressions and your beautiful breasts that rocked perfectly with each of his thrusts

your arms were stretched above as you grabbed onto one of your teddy bears behind you for support

the grip you had on the stuffed animal was harsh as you bit your lip, trying to quiet down in case one of your neighbors heard you..

every time he would take you like this at your place, you were always mindful of the neighbors, which he hated

but fortunately for him, once you moved in at the lin kuei, you were far more used to having sex with bi-han and he made sure you knew that you had full permission to be as loud as you wanted

living with the lin kuei meant that you were with almost with bi-han at all times, which severely benefited your sex life

gone were the days when you would be too shy to show your naked body to bi-han or even make noises

bi-han made sure to craft you into his perfect little fuckdoll

he trained you and your body so well, you knew how to properly obey and take him whenever he pleased

being able to fuck you at his usual rough pace was all that bi-han ever wanted, and you couldn’t get enough of it either

your baby-pink panties were pushed to the side as bi-han aggressively railed you from behind

"f-fuuuck! please don’t s-stop!" your voice was slurred and your mouth was hung open— unable to prevent your drool from soaking bi-han’s mattress

he loved when you got like this, so fucked out by him

just seeing the way you clearly had no coherent thoughts running through your mind— only the thought of his cock clouded your head

bi-han snickers, "who would’ve thought that my precious princess would turn out to be such a whore?"

on occasion he would still praise you like he used to

but he would often degrade you and talk with such vulgar language without you shying away anymore

introducing you to such an enjoyable sex life also involved you building up your own sex drive

after finishing daily duties, there have been times when bi-han has walked into his room and found you in the middle of his bed, grinding your aroused pussy on one of your stuffed animals

knowing that you had planned for him to see you made bi-han surge with excitement down under

despite all of that, bi-han can still praise you and treat you like the princess you are, similar to how he did when you were still inexperienced

if you tell him you’re in the mood to get down and dirty—gently, not rough— he would oblige

he would still call you his good girl while eating you out

you’d be leaned back on your pink sheets, basking in the warmth of your mattress but also the coldness of bi-han’s tongue assaulting your pussy

the same situation usually happens in reverse as well

if bi-han’s in the mood, you’d gladly let him fuck your face for his own pleasure

the obedience you had for him brought him so much pleasure

not to mention the influence he’s had on you—

his cute, innocent snowflake who could barely take in any of his cock without gagging and coughing, was now easily allowing her face to be fucked at whatever pace he desired

seeing your dolled up face get ruined turned him on even more

the way your tears were stained with black from your mascara and running down your cheeks, and how your sparkly pink lip gloss was smudged all over his cock and your face

even knowing how you would beg and drink up his cum made him feel so proud

he still couldn’t get over how well he trained you…

bi-han was also smart and knew how to keep a perfect balance of praise and degradation for you

he’d watch you from above as he stroked his hard cock in front of your face

your doe eyes looked up at him with your tongue sticking out, panting and whining, just begging for something to be in your mouth

bi-han would take his free hand and lightly tap your cheek before forcing his thumb into your mouth, which you gladly sucked on

"such a beautiful little slut, you know just how to please me, fuck.."

guys i think he might have a corruption kink idk tho >_< !!

[madlori]

i don't even know what this is, a bit of non-buddie-endgame heartbreak maybe.

----

"One more?" Eddie says, holding up the decanter of fine ten-year-old bourbon.

Buck sighs. "I better not. Don't want to be hungover tomorrow like I was at the last wedding we were at."

"At least you weren't the groom that time," Eddie said, grinning as he puts down the decanter, apparently deciding to forgo a refill for himself.

"All the more reason."

"It took me a year to pay off the credit card bill for that fucking hotel room," Eddie groans.

"Hey, you say that like I wasn't paying half."

"At least it put us off having some kind of wild party tonight."

"Yeah. Plus it just feels weird. Like, how does a bachelor party work if you're marrying a man? Seems like he ought to be invited, too."

"What is Tommy doing tonight?"

"His brothers and a couple of the guys from Harbor took him to Top Golf."

"Stop this crazy party train."

"I kinda like Top Golf, it's like golf but also skeeball."

Eddie put down his glass and leaned forward. "So I know a traditional part of my job tonight is to like...check how you're feeling. Like, make sure you're doing the right thing. See if you're having cold feet."

"It is?"

"Apparently. But...I don't really need to. You're practically vibrating with excitement."

Buck felt himself go warm and liquid at the idea that in 24 hours, he'd be Tommy's husband. "I am doing the right thing. I've never had any doubts."

"Never?"

"No. I love him so much, Eddie."

"I know you do. And that guy is so in love with you it's embarrassing. I've never had doubts about either of you, either. And you know I get protective."

"Gee, you don't say."

"Shut up!" They laughed together, the quiet, easy laughter of a nearly decade-old friendship that in some ways was even closer than a marriage.

Buck sighed. "Well, I better get to bed. I need sleep if I want to look pretty to marry the man of my dreams tomorrow."

Eddie nodded, making no move to get up himself. "I'll wake you up at 9."

"Thanks." He patted Eddie's knee and went to the door. Something felt...electric. The air was crackling and he didn't really know why.

He was at the door when Eddie's voice stopped him.

"Did we just miss our chance? Somewhere along the way?" he said, quietly, but his voice cut into the silence clearly.

Buck paused, still facing the door. He took a deep breath and turned, his eyes locking on to Eddie's immediately. He did not even try to pretend that he didn't know exactly what Eddie was talking about. "Yeah. I think we did."

Eddie nodded. "I think so, too."

Buck took a step forward. "But you will always be my guy, Eddie. Always."

Eddie stood up, hands in his pockets. "I love you. And I love him. I love what you two have, together. And I will always have your back."

Buck took the two steps to close the distance and pulled Eddie into an embrace, pressing his face into his hair. "I love you, too." He drew back and let his forehead rest against Eddie's. They took a few breaths together, and it felt like they were releasing something into the air between them. Buck pulled away and pressed a kiss to Eddie's forehead. Eddie smiled, an easy, familiar smile, and it was okay again.

Buck grinned, squeezed his hand, and left the room.

He got to his own hotel room - they were all staying in the historic inn where the ceremony would be tomorrow - and made it inside. A shuddering breath escaped him, and as if he'd been waiting for a cue, he heard Tommy's key in the lock and he came inside. "Evan, wha..." was all he got out before Buck buried himself in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm amazing. I'm just..." He sighed, pressing his face into Tommy's neck. "I think I just let go of something I've been holding onto for a long time."

Tommy pulled back and met his eyes. "Eddie?"

He knew. Of course he knew. This man who was about to marry him absolutely knew. Buck nodded.

"And you're both okay?"

"Yes. Better than that, I think." Tommy pulled him back into his arms, rocking them both back and forth. "I love you."

"I know, Evan. I've always known."

Buck stood in the embrace of the man he loved, and wept both for what he was about to gain, and a little bit for what he'd never had.

[socksracoon10]

Pirate

Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader, Jack Sparrow x F!Reader (Platonic) Read The Second Part: Not Just A Pirate

That imbecile had left you with Barbossa, and the thought of having to deal with his monkey's stupid chattering had nearly driven you to madness. Seizing any opportunity available, you had found yourself a small boat and began your search for Sparrow. You weren't expecting much from him, considering you were technically a part of his crew - the rest were with Barbossa. Not that it made any difference, though, because at the moment you were without a captain and unfortunately in the eyes of a few redcoats who eyed you, warily. They drew their rifles closer to themselves, marching over with some fire in their eyes.

"Oh, curse me," You muttered underneath your breath, throwing your hat into the water below, before carefully stepping onto a dock. Your foot dangled helplessly onto the boat, almost causing you to lose your balance. Gesturing for a soldier to come help you, you grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted yourself up onto the wooden platforms and sighed in relief, thanking them with false kindness.

"Enough, enough," One of them grumbled, rolling his eyes. He sneezed, the droplets of his mucus flying past you as you cringed at the sight. Despite being a pirate, you still had at least a little bit of hygiene left in you during your days as a "proper" lady. "What brings a girl like you to Port Royal, especially in that poor excuse of a boat?"

You followed the soldier's fingers to the vessel, noticing the way a few splinters poked out from the oars. It was a ghastly sight and a miracle that it had managed to take you this far without sinking. Shaking your head, you came up with the best excuse you could think of,

"I was robbed by a pirate. I was hoping at least one of you would show some mercy and help me find that treacherous man." 

"Was it Jack Sparrow?" Another soldier chimed in, his voice so delicate as he uttered the name.

"Precisely!" You whispered, excitedly as you wriggled your eyebrows, "Have you seen him lurking about here? I ought to give him a piece of mind!"

"Now, now, listen here, you don't have to do anything," The third soldier cried out with an exasperated sigh, "As misfortunate as your encounter with Sparrow must be, I implore you to go find yourself an inn for the time being." He had this air of haughtiness in his voice, one that made your frown deepen into a snarl. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pushed any emerging ill comments at him down to your boots and merely nodded your head in response.

Pushing past the soldiers, you trailed up the staircase to the cobbled streets of Port Royal and found a group of more soldiers running down the streets from The Governor's quarters. Frowning, your faintly heard the mention of Jack Sparrow among one of the redcoats that passed by you and you instantly figured out what was going on.

Crossing through an alley, you found a familiar set of beads dangling from an individual's head, hiding behind a wagon; he occasionally lifted his head to peer for any danger, unaware of your presence behind him.

"AHEM," You crossed your arms, glaring at him. Either he was ignoring you on purpose, or he was incredibly deaf and stupid. Rolling your eyes, you slapped the back of his head and watched him hurl into the wagon with a yelp of pain. He turned around on his heels, swiftly, narrowing his eyes for a moment to scan your face. Upon recognition, he grinned and held his hands up in the air,

"(Y/N)! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" He exclaimed, holding onto your hands. You wriggled out of his grasps, before slapping him across his face, sharply.

"You moron! You left me aboard Barbossa's ship! After everything we've been through, I thought you were a brother to me! Family! You've decided to lurk about and be the prying little-"

"Whoa... now, love, we don't have much time to listen to your usual rants, do we?" Jack interjected your thoughts, raising a finger up. He swayed towards you, looking over your shoulder to ensure that there were no redcoats nearby. His eyes then glanced back towards you, "Listen, I think we should split ways and then meet up back at the docks. What do ya say?"

"I say no," You hiss, "I don't trust your words. We go together, or I'll throw you to the soldiers myself!"

"Darlin', you're a pirate too. You're only doing yourself a disservice here," Jack scoffed, and you clutched onto his collar,

"Try me. You cross me one more time, I won't care if you're my captain or like a brother to me, I shall drive my sword through your head and watch you scream for mercy." You threatened him, before shoving him off. Jack dusted his coat, creasing out the new wrinkles you caused with what he assumed was an indifferent expression on his face - he couldn't hide the slight fear your words caused him. 

As you extended your hand out for Jack to accept, the thunderous footsteps of the redcoats just around the corner caused you both to pick your feet up and run. Jack had hopped over among the roofs, and you had run inside a blacksmith's keep. Grabbing a sword from the sleeping blacksmith, you were set to head back out when you had noticed a shadow emerge from the other side of the door. 

"Oh, bollocks," You whisper, in a panicked tone, leaping behind a wooden table somewhere far enough for cover. You heard the footsteps of someone patter across the room, shifting through some equipment before they loudly whispered,

"Not where I left you..." 

Ah, so it was a man. And judging by the sound of his voice, he was pretty young. You peered, carefully, from the table and noticed his ponytail, and his well-fitted yet a bit dirty clothes. He wasn't bad-looking, surprisingly. He tapped his foot, impatiently, before drawing out his own sword and turned to your hiding spot. Sighing in defeat, you stood up from the cramped place and stretched your arms with a lazy yawn, stalking over to him.

"You're a pirate," He spat, his sword dragging up and down the air as he gestured at you.

"I'm also a lady. Now, this can go two ways. Either you let me go and I find myself back to Jack Sparrow, or I kill you... and find myself back to Jack Sparrow." You reasoned, forcing a smile at him as you made your way to the exit. Within seconds, you felt the tip of the blade against your chin, turning your head to face him. He had a deathly glare on his face but his eyes spoke of something else. Seeing that there was no way out of this without blood being shed, you raised an eyebrow,

"Come now, love, must there be hostility? Fine then, have it your way." You spat, before dragging your sword and jabbing it towards his stomach. He deflected my attack, and swung his sword around towards your neck. Dodging backwards, you lunged forward and elbowed his gut before parrying the thrust of his sword. He fell back for a moment, catching his breath as he shook his head,

"That's cheating." He breathed out between pants.

"Well, that's life, and now help a lady out and let her escape." You snickered, prying his fingers off his sword.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken... you're a pirate." The young man smirked, and the front door swung open with Jack at the hands of the redcoats, a sheepish look attached to his stupid face. Glancing back to the now standing young man, you found yourself handcuffed and dragged off with Jack besides you. 

William didn't fail to notice your menacing glare as you were taken away and he let out a proud smirk at the sight. And yet, something felt wrong. In all the years as a blacksmith's apprentice, nothing had excited him as much as this encounter had. He turned to the burning furnace, his thoughts fixated on seeing you.

For one more time, at least.

[mothfables]

Legend stretched out on the rug of their inn room with a content sigh. Fire crackled merrily in the hearth nearby while sunshine poured in through the window, making him feel warm and sleepy.

Today was a day for relaxing, he decided. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, no monsters to fight… just a sunny autumn day and a warm fire.

He yawned, showing sharp buck that made several of his brothers to make surprised sounds. He paid them no mind, snuffling contentedly as he soaked up the sunshine.

His brothers murmured between themselves as someone shuffled behind him. He flicked an ear, unconcerned.

Then there was a quiet thud of knees on carpet followed by a young voice. “Ya look real comfy there, Vet. Mind if I join ya?”

Legend shifted to look up at the sailor; the boy was looking at him with hopeful, shining eyes. Legend considered it for a moment before pulling himself to his paws to flop into Wind’s lap with a grunt.

Wind’s eyes went wide and he bit his lip to keep from squealing with glee. Tentatively, he lowered his hand to rest on soft pink fur. When the only reaction was one violet eye squinting open to glance at him before fluttering shut again, he took a chance and began gently stroking the fur along Legend’s spine. Legend relaxed at the motion, letting out a tiny rumbling purr that Wind felt more than heard, making him grin.

He let out a quiet huff of laughter, giving Legend a reassuring pat when he twitched at the sound. Then he moved to rubbing long velvet ears, running them between his fingers and marveling at their length.

Legend purred louder.

On a whim, Wind scratched lightly between his ears and down around his neck. One of Legend’s back legs began to kick slightly.

Wind continued scratching him for a few more moments before he got an idea. Gently, he slipped his right hand under Legend’s back legs and his left under his chest and carefully lifted him up so they were nose-to-nose. Legend startled but quickly went still when Wind pressed a kiss to his forehead, followed by another to his quivering nose.

The sailor looked at the befuddled expression on the rabbit’s face and gave an apologetic little laugh. “Sorry, vet. It’s just- you’re really cute like this and your fur’s just so soft and I-”

He was cut off by Legend giving a tiny grumble and leaning forward to snuffle at his nose. Wind beamed.

“Aawww! I love you too!” He pulled Legend closer to give him a careful hug, pressing another kiss to his forehead at the same time.

Legend tolerated it for a minute before beginning to squirm, uncomfortable with being held for so long. Wind got the hint and carefully set him down, though not without giving him one last pat.

As soon as his paws met the floor Legend gave himself a good shake. Sitting up, he began to thoroughly clean his ears and face, ignoring the adoring coos he could hear from his brothers.

Wind shifted to curl up on the rug, a soft smile on his face. Legend gave his ears another pass before hopping back over to him. There, he nosed at the rug, searching for a good spot. When he found one, he dug at the fabric until it was to his liking before flopping over with a huff. There were more coos that he pointedly paid no attention to.

He didn’t move when he felt an arm wrap around him and pull him close to a warm body. The briny, sunshine smell of the sailor’s scent surrounded him and he felt another kiss pressed between his ears. Legend let himself relax and cuddle further against his brother with a content sigh.