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kckt88 · 20 days

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The Lost Dragon - Epilogue

Summary:

Twelve Years Later.

Warning(s): Character Death, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut - Kissing, Oral Sex, P in V.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 6772

A.N - If anyone wishes to talk about the kids or any of the other characters feel free to message me :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

“-Queen Vaelys of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm-and her Consort King Aemond of House Targaryen”

In the grandeur of the throne room within the Red Keep, the air was filled with a sense of anticipation and solemnity. Vaelys stood tall and resolute, clad in regal attire befitting her coronation as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Beside her, Aemond stood, his presence a reassuring anchor in the tumultuous sea of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

As Vaelys stood in the throne room, she was suddenly overcome by a wave of memories from the past. In an instant, she was transported back to the day her mother, Queen Rhaenyra, had fallen ill.

She remembered the urgency in her father's summons, her mother was gravely ill and asking for her presence in King's Landing.

Vaelys had travelled to King's Landing with all the speed Vermithor could muster, her heart heavy with dread as she entered her mother's chambers. The Queen, once vibrant and strong, now lay deathly pale and frail upon her bed, her breaths shallow and laboured.

Rhaenyra's voice, once commanding and powerful, was now small and weak as she called out to her daughter. Vaelys rushed to her mother's side, her eyes filled with tears as she took in the sight of the woman who had been her guiding light throughout her life, now fading before her very eyes.

"Mother," Vaelys whispered, her voice choked with emotion as she grasped Rhaenyra's hand in her own. "I'm here, Mother. You're going to be alright."

But Rhaenyra shook her head weakly, a sad smile playing at the corners of her lips. "My sweet girl-I'm sorry-for all of it-tell him-tell Aemond-I’m sorry”.

“It’s ok mother” whispered Vaelys.

“T-There is s-something else you must know-I should have told you many years ago-you may not understand but you must hear it-“ gasped Rhaenyra.

“What is it mother?”

“Our histories-they tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone and saw a rich land ripe for the capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest-It was a dream”.

“A dream?” questioned Vaelys.

“-Just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men. It will begin with a terrible winter gusting out of the distant North. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds. Whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living. When this great winter comes, Vaelys-all of Westeros must stand against it- if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne”.

“I don’t-“ muttered Vaelys

“A King or Queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark. Aegon called his dream. The Song of Ice and Fire. This secret-it’s been passed from King to heir since Aegon’s time. Now you must promise to carry it-and protect it. Promise me this, Vaelys-“

“Mother I-“ stuttered Vaelys

“-Put the dagger in flames and you’ll see. Promise me-p-promise m-me,” wheezed Rhaenyra.

“I promise mother-“ replied Vaelys as she squeezed her mother's hand tightly, her tears falling freely now as she whispered words of love and comfort into Rhaenyra's ear. In that moment, surrounded by the ones she loved most, Rhaenyra closed her eyes for the final time, her spirit slipping quietly away.

As Vaelys and Aemond stood side by side in the throne room, their coronation ceremony nearing its conclusion, they made a decision that would set them apart from the rulers of the past. Instead of wearing the crowns of kings and queens who had come before them, they chose to have new crowns crafted, symbols of their own reign and the values they held dear.

The new crowns, crafted from gleaming silver and adorned with intricate dragon designs that reflected the unity and strength of their rule, were placed upon their heads with great care.

As Vaelys turned towards the Iron Throne, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation wash over her. The weight of history hung heavy in the air, each step she took towards the throne echoing with the footsteps of rulers long past.

But as she reached the top of the steps, her gaze fell upon Aemond, standing steadfast and proud at the foot of the steps. His silver crown gleamed in the torchlight, a symbol of his unwavering support and encouragement.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, Vaelys felt a surge of determination well up within her. With a silent nod from Aemond, a gesture of reassurance and confidence.

Taking a deep breath, Vaelys hesitated for just a moment, her hand hovering over the cold, unforgiving metal.

But then she remembered Aemond's nod, his unwavering belief in her abilities, and with a final glance back at him, she took her seat upon the throne. The weight of the crown upon her head felt heavy, but she straightened her spine and lifted her chin, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

After a few moment of looking across the throne room, Vaelys looked to her brothers and sisters, who lowered themselves to one knee.

Cregan who was standing with his wife and sons also lowered himself to one knee.

The other Lords and Ladies in attendance also bowing in respect of their new Queen and her King Consort.

With a steady voice, Vaelys was ready to announce her first decree as Queen.

"I declare that my eldest daughter, Sovia, shall be named heir to the Iron Throne and Princess of Dragonstone"

The room fell silent, the gravity of Vaelys' words sinking in as the ruling lords of the Seven Kingdoms exchanged glances. But then, one by one, they once again lowered to one knee, their heads bowed in respect.

"We pledge our loyalty to Princess Sovia, heir to the Iron Throne" they intoned in unison, their voices ringing out with solemnity and solemnity.

And there, standing tall and resolute beside her father, Sovia accepted the homage of the realm, her expression one of determination and strength.

"In addition," she declared, her voice carrying authority, "I announce that my daughter, Princess Sovia, shall be betrothed to her brother Prince Daevyn, to further strengthen the bonds of our house and ensure the unity of the Seven Kingdoms."

The announcement was met with nods of agreement and murmurs of approval from the assembled lords and ladies. It was a strategic move, one that would solidify the ties between their family members and reinforce their position of power.

Sovia and Daevyn exchanged glances, their eyes meeting with a shared understanding and acceptance. Daevyn stepped forward, his expression one of determination and commitment, as he took Sovia's hand in his own.

"In furtherance of our commitment to unity and alliance," Vaelys announced, her voice ringing out with authority, "I declare that my son, Prince Aemon Targaryen, shall be betrothed to Lady Laena Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark and future Lady of the Tides."

A ripple of approval spread through the throne room as the assembled nobles acknowledged the strategic significance of the betrothal. The marriage would strengthen the ties between House Targaryen and House Velaryon, two powerful families whose union would bolster their position in the realm.

Jace nodded in agreement as Vaelys' words echoed through the hall, his expression one of pride and satisfaction. It was a match that would benefit both houses, securing their alliance for generations to come.

Vaelys' gaze shifted towards Aemond, her husband and King Consort, as he stepped forward with a solemn expression. The anticipation in the room grew palpable as he cleared his throat, preparing to make his announcement.

"In addition to the betrothals already declared," Aemond began, his voice commanding the attention of all present, "I am pleased to announce a final betrothal that will further strengthen the bonds between our houses."

He paused for a moment, allowing the significance of his words to sink in before continuing.

"Our daughter, Princess Rekara, shall be betrothed to Rickon Stark, the heir to Winterfell. However, as Rekara is but twelve years of age, the marriage will not take place until she comes of age at sixteen."

A murmur of approval rippled through the room as the lords and ladies of the realm acknowledged the importance of this alliance. The marriage between House Targaryen and House Stark would bring together two great houses of the North and the South, uniting the realm in peace and prosperity.

Cregan nodded his head in approval and acknowledgement, the betrothals that had been announced had of course been arranged in the days prior.

No marriages would take place until both were of age, Sovia and Daevyn’s wedding would wait the year as he was currently fifteen, and the others would occur in the coming years.

Vaelys watched with pride as Aemond made the announcement, her heart swelling with gratitude for the love and support he had shown their family. This betrothal was a testament to their commitment to securing the future of their house and ensuring the stability of the realm for generations to come.

As the room erupted into applause, Vaelys felt a sense of hope and optimism wash over her. With these betrothals, she knew that they were paving the way for a brighter future for the Seven Kingdoms, one built on unity, strength, and the bonds of family.

With a sense of purpose and determination, Vaelys began to name her new council members, each chosen for their skill, loyalty, and dedication to the realm.

"As Queen of the Seven Kingdoms," she declared, her voice strong and unwavering, "I hereby name my brother, Jacaerys Velaryon, as Master of Ships. His knowledge of the seas and naval strategy will serve us well in the years to come."

Jace bowed his head in acknowledgment, a sense of pride evident in his expression as he accepted the appointment.

"Lord Thaddeus Rowan," Vaelys continued, "Shall serve as Master of Laws. His commitment to justice and fairness will ensure that our laws are upheld and enforced throughout the realm."

Thaddeus Rowan nodded solemnly, accepting the responsibility that had been placed upon him.

“Isembard Arryn” Vaelys went on, "Shall be named Master of Coin. His expertise in finance and economics will help to ensure the prosperity of the kingdom."

"Prince Daeron Targaryen," Vaelys announced, "Shall take up the mantle of Lord Commander of the Queen's Guard. His unwavering dedication to duty make him the ideal candidate for this important position."

Daeron bowed deeply, his expression one of solemn determination as he accepted the honour bestowed upon him.

Aemond smiled at the expression on his younger brothers face, it had been his suggestion that had secured Daeron’s position as Lord Commander.

"As for the City Watch," Vaelys continued, "I name my brothers, Aegon and Viserys Targaryen, as joint Commanders. Their experience under the tutelage of our father Daemon will ensure that King's Landing remains safe and secure."

Aegon and Viserys nodded in agreement, ready to take on the responsibility of protecting the capital city.

With her new council assembled, Vaelys felt a sense of pride and determination wash over her. Together, they would work tirelessly to ensure the stability and prosperity of the realm, guiding the Seven Kingdoms into a new era of peace and prosperity.

"Now," said Vaelys, her voice filled with warmth and joy, "Let us set aside our duties for a moment and enjoy the festivities. Tonight, we celebrate not only the strength and unity of our realm, but also the bonds of friendship and kinship that bind us together."

The room erupted into applause and cheers as the guests rose from their seats, eager to partake in the feast and revelry that awaited them. Musicians struck up a lively tune, filling the air with music and laughter as servants began to circulate with trays of food and drink.

Vaelys looked out over the gathered crowd, her heart filled with gratitude for the support and loyalty of those gathered before her. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that as long as they stood united, there was nothing they could not accomplish.

With a smile, she raised her goblet in a toast to the future, to prosperity and peace, and to the bonds of friendship and family that would carry them through whatever trials may come.

"Enjoy the feast, my friends," she declared, her voice ringing out with warmth and sincerity. "Tonight, we celebrate the dawn of a new era for the Seven Kingdoms!"

As the festivities carried on, Aemond approached Vaelys with a thoughtful expression, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Vaelys," he began gently, "I couldn't help but notice that you didn't name your Hand of the Queen during the council announcements. Is everything alright?"

Vaelys sighed softly, her gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to meet Aemond's eyes.

"I-I have struggled with the decision," she admitted quietly. "I know how crucial the role of Hand is, and I didn't want to risk appointing someone whose ambition or ideas could potentially bring our house to ruin."

Aemond nodded, understanding the weight of her words. He knew exactly what she was referring to — the legacy of his grandfather, Otto, whose actions had ultimately led to chaos and tragedy for House Targaryen.

"I understand," he said softly, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "It's a difficult decision to make, especially considering what happened. But we'll find the right person for the role, someone loyal and wise, who has the best interests of the realm at heart."

“-I did have someone in mind-“ said Vaelys her gaze drifting towards Alysanne Blackwood, Cregan's second wife, who stood across the hall. Aemond followed her gaze, his expression thoughtful as he considered her choice.

"Alysanne," he murmured, his brow furrowing slightly. "She's a capable woman, to be sure. But are you certain she's the right choice?"

Vaelys nodded, her confidence unwavering. "She was one of my mother’s allies. She's proven herself to be loyal, shrewd, and dedicated to the good of the realm. And given her marriage to Cregan, it would further ally us with the North”.

Aemond considered her words for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of appointing Alysanne as Hand of the Queen. Despite his past differences with Cregan, he couldn't deny the potential benefits of such an alliance, sitting alongside the betrothal of his youngest daughter to Starks heir.

"I trust your judgment, Vaelys," he said finally, his tone firm. "If you believe Alysanne is the right choice, then I'll support your decision. Together, we'll ensure that she has the resources and support she needs to succeed in her new role."

Vaelys smiled gratefully at Aemond's agreement, relieved to have his support in this important decision.

"Thank you, Aemond," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

“Do you wish to make the announcement now?” asked Aemond.

“I believe I shall leave that honour to Issa dārys” whispered Vaelys (My King).

“ābrazȳrys” growled Aemond, hearing Vaelys call him that in their mother tongue made his blood run hot.

“Nyke gīmigon skoriot aōha mind emagon issare issa zaldrīzes, ao seek naejot fuck nykeā dāria bē zȳhon dēmalion-“ muttered Vaelys (I know where your mind has been my dragon, you seek to fuck a Queen upon her throne).

“Issa jorrāelagon-“ exclaimed Aemond (My Love).

“Be a good boy and make the announcement and I promise tonight I shall worship you like the King you are” whispered Vaelys as she leaned in and placed a kiss on Aemonds cheek.

Aemond nodded quickly, as he stood up from his seat beside Vaelys. The hall fell silent as all eyes turned to him, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice strong and commanding, "I have an additional announcement to make on behalf of our queen."

A ripple of curiosity swept through the room as Aemond paused for effect, his gaze sweeping over the assembled nobles before settling on Alysanne Blackwood, who stood with a look of anticipation on her face.

"It is my honour to declare that we have chosen a new Hand of the Queen," Aemond continued, his voice ringing out with authority. "In recognition of her wisdom, loyalty, and dedication to the realm, Alysanne Blackwood has been appointed to this esteemed position."

A murmur of approval filled the hall as the assembled nobles reacted to the announcement, some nodding in agreement while others exchanged knowing glances. Alysanne's expression was one of gratitude and determination as she stepped forward to accept the honour bestowed upon her.

"As Hand of the Queen," Aemond concluded, his voice filled with confidence, "Alysanne will serve as a trusted advisor to our queen, working tirelessly to ensure the prosperity and stability of the realm. Please join me in congratulating her on this well-deserved appointment."

With a round of applause, the hall erupted into celebration, the tension of the moment dissipating as the guests cheered and toasted to Alysanne's success.

Vaelys approached her father Daemon's chambers with a heavy heart, knowing that he had chosen to remain secluded in his grief. She paused outside the door, taking a moment to collect herself before gently knocking.

"Father," she called softly, her voice carrying a note of concern. "It's Vaelys. May I come in?"

There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open, revealing Daemon's weathered face, his once fierce eyes now dulled with age and sorrow. He nodded wordlessly, stepping aside to allow Vaelys to enter.

The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with the weight of Daemon's grief. Vaelys took a hesitant step forward, her heart aching at the sight of her father in such pain.

"I-I wanted to see how you were doing," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know these past few days have been difficult for you."

Daemon offered her a weak smile, his gaze distant as he spoke. "Thank you, my dear. It's been hard, losing your mother... She was everything to me."

Vaelys moved closer, her heart breaking at the sight of her father's anguish. She reached out to take his hand, offering what little comfort she could.

"I miss her too, Father," she admitted quietly. "But she would want us to carry on, to honour her memory and continue to serve the realm."

Daemon nodded, his grip tightening around Vaelys' hand. "You're right”

As Vaelys sat with her father Daemon, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of all the recent changes in their lives. Yet, she knew it was important to keep him informed of the decisions she had made for the realm and their family.

"Father," she began gently, "I wanted to speak to you about some matters concerning the kingdom and our family."

Daemon looked up, his weary eyes meeting hers with a sense of resignation. "Of course, What is it that troubles you?"

Taking a deep breath, Vaelys proceeded to inform him of the betrothals she had arranged for their children, as well as the members of her new council. She spoke of Sovia's betrothal to Daevyn, Aemon's betrothal to Laena, and Rekara's future marriage to Rickon Stark. She also detailed the appointments of Jace as Master of Ships, Lord Thaddeus Rowan as Master of Laws, and Isembard Arryn Master of Coin.

Daemon listened attentively as Vaelys spoke, his expression thoughtful as he considered her choices. When she had finished, he nodded approvingly, a hint of pride in his weary eyes.

"These are wise decisions, my dear," he said softly. "You have chosen well, both for the realm and for our family. I am proud of you."

Vaelys felt a swell of gratitude at her father's words, knowing that his approval meant a great deal to her.

“What of Aegon and Viserys?” asked Daemon.

"Aegon and Viserys have been appointed as joint commanders of the City Watch," she explained, her voice steady. "I believe their leadership and dedication will serve the realm well in this role."

Daemon's eyes softened with approval, a hint of pride shining through his weary demeanour. "A wise choice," he remarked. "They have always shown promise, and I have no doubt they will excel in their new responsibilities."

Vaelys nodded, grateful for her father's support. She knew that his approval meant a great deal, and she was relieved to see him taking an interest in the affairs of the realm despite his grief.

"And what of the Hand of the Queen?" Daemon inquired; his curiosity piqued. "Have you found someone suitable for the position?"

Vaelys hesitated for a moment before replying, knowing that her choice might surprise him. "Yes, Father," she said. "I have appointed Alysanne Blackwood as Hand of the Queen."

Daemon's brows furrowed in thought, but after a moment, he nodded in approval. "Alysanne Blackwood," he repeated. "An excellent choice. She is a woman of intelligence and integrity, and I have no doubt she will serve you well."

Relief washed over Vaelys as she watched her father's reaction, grateful that he approved of her decisions.

Daemon rose from his seat, his movements slow as he crossed the room.

"Vaelys," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "There is something I wish to give you."

Vaelys watched him with a mixture of surprise and apprehension, unsure of what her father was offering her. But as he reached for the sword at his side, she felt a sudden pang of unease.

"Father, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Daemon's hands trembled slightly as he drew the sword from its scabbard, revealing the gleaming blade of Valyrian steel. He held it out to her, the hilt offered in silent offering.

"Dark Sister," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Has been in our family for generations, passed down from one Targaryen to the next. And now, it belongs to you."

Vaelys recoiled slightly, her eyes widening in shock. "Father, I can't accept this," she protested.

But Daemon cut her off with a shake of his head, his gaze unwavering. "You must, Vaelys," he insisted. "Dark Sister belongs in the hands of a queen, and who better to wield it than you? You are strong, capable, worthy of its power. Take it, my dear, and let it be a symbol of the strength and courage that resides within you."

Vaelys hesitated for a moment, her heart torn between her desire to refuse the gift and her longing to honour her father's wishes. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the depth of his conviction, the fierce determination that burned within him.

With a trembling hand, she reached out and accepted the sword, feeling its weight settle into her grasp. She could sense the power that thrummed through its ancient steel, the legacy of those who had wielded it before her.

"Thank you, Father," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Daemon offered her a sad smile, his eyes shining with pride. "You are worthy of it, Vaelys," he said softly. "May it serve you well”.

As Vaelys entered her chambers, she found Aemond waiting for her, his eyes alight with curiosity. His gaze flickered to the sword in her hand, a question forming on his lips, but before he could speak, Vaelys pre-empted him.

"My father gave me Dark Sister," she explained, her voice tinged with emotion.

Aemond's expression softened as he took in her words, understanding the significance of the gift. He reached out to her, his hand brushing against her cheek in a gesture of comfort.

"It's a great honour, Vaelys," he said softly.

Vaelys nodded, a sense of gratitude flooding through her. She had never felt more connected to her father than she did in that moment, his faith in her abilities serving as a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

"I will wield it with pride," she vowed, her voice steady. "And I will honour the legacy of those who came before me."

Aemond smiled, a warmth spreading through his features. "I have no doubt that you will," he said, his eyes shining with pride. "You are a true Queen, Vaelys, in every sense of the word."

“Speaking of honours-I have a gift for you” said Vaelys as she placed Dark Sister on the desk.

As Vaelys carefully opened the long box placed at the end of their bed, she couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation coursing through her veins. Inside lay Blackfyre, the legendary sword of House Targaryen, a symbol of power and prestige that had been passed down through generations.

She looked up at Aemond, her heart pounding in her chest, as she presented the sword to him. "Aemond," she said softly, her voice filled with reverence, "This belongs to you."

Aemond's eyes widened in astonishment as he beheld the gleaming blade before him. He reached out tentatively, as if afraid to touch it, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into the steel.

"Vaelys, I-I cannot accept this," he stammered, his voice choked with emotion, remembering his father and Aegon once laying claim to this sword.

Vaelys shook her head, a determined glint in her eyes. "As Dark Sister rests in the hands of a Queen," she declared, "Blackfyre shall rest in the hands of a King. You are my equal, Aemond, my partner in every sense of the word. It is only fitting that you should wield such a weapon."

Aemond was speechless, his gaze locked with hers as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of her gesture. He had never expected such a gift, never imagined that he would hold the legendary sword of House Targaryen in his hands.

But as he looked into Vaelys' eyes, he saw the depth of her conviction, the unwavering belief she held in him. And in that moment, he knew that he could do no less than accept her offering, to honour her trust and her love.

With a sense of reverence, he grasped the hilt of Blackfyre, feeling its weight settle into his hand. It felt like destiny, like the culmination of a journey that had brought them to this moment.

"Thank you, Vaelys," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. "I will wield it with honour, and with pride, for as long as I draw breath."

Vaelys smiled coyly at Aemond, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now that we're alone, Issa dārys" she said, her voice a soft whisper that sent shivers down his spine, "I do believe I have a promise to keep."

Aemond's heart quickened at the suggestive tone in her voice, his pulse pounding in his ears as he realized what she meant. He felt a surge of desire coursing through him, igniting a fire that burned hot and fierce.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down his wife’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Vaelys whimpers, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slots himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond presses himself against the apex of Vaelys’ thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his breeches.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Vaelys as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh, you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to the bed.

Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Vaelys’ open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.

Gods, she tasted delicious.

Aemond loved feasting on his wife’s cunny, he could spend the rest of his days between her thighs.

“Fuck,” squeaks Vaelys as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.

“Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.

Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Vaelys to her peak.

Vaelys arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.

“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.

“M-More, please” gasps Vaelys as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.

Aemond smirks as he removes his small clothes , his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen, hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

“Kostilus issa dārys” (Please my King).

Aemond takes himself in his hand and guides his hard cock to Vaelys’ entrance, pushing in slowly, teasing her.

His wife writhes against him, her eyes lost in a haze of desire.

“Ivestragon issa ao jorrāelagon issa” muttered Aemond (Tell me you love me).

“Avy jorrāelan, nyke jorrāelagon sīr olvie issa valzȳrys” gasped Vaelys (I love you; I love you so much my husband).

Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and slams into Vaelys hard, smiling as she lets out a yelp of surprise.

The pace he sets is brutal, his hips slapping against hers.

Vaelys moans desperately, as she moves her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.

Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Vaelys’ legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock even deeper than before.

“Tell me how it feels” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes” exclaimed Vaelys.

Vaelys’ praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to pound into her, the wooden headboard banging against the wall from the force of his movements.

“Aemond, please, I’m close”.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Vaelys’ pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“Gods this sweet cunny–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a rough snap of his hips.

Vaelys comes with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“J-Just a little longer-fuck”

Then with a loud animalistic groan, Aemond stills, leaning over his wife, his cock pulsating as he spills his seed deep inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Vaelys’ legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Vaelys, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, and flops onto the mattress.

After a few minutes, Aemond takes Vaelys into his arms and runs his nose up and down her cheek, she giggles when his breath tickles her skin.

Vaelys then moved away from him and rose from their bed. With a tender smile, she reached out, and lifted Aemond's crown from where it rested on the bedside table, its silver gleaming in the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window.

As she held the crown, Vaelys felt a swell of pride and admiration for her husband, for the man who stood by her side, her confidant, and her partner in all things. She traced her fingers along the intricate patterns adorning the crown, marvelling at its craftsmanship and the power it represented.

“Are you ready?” asked Vaelys as she placed Aemond’s crown upon his head.

“For what-“ mused Aemond curiously.

“I promised to worship you-as the King you are. That my dear husband was just the warmup” replied Vaelys as she climbed onto the bed and descended under the covers.

“Y-You don’t have to” muttered Aemond weakly.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Vaelys, her soft fingers running along Aemond’s muscled thigh.

“Vaelys what are you-oh” gasped Aemond as he felt his wife’s tongue gentle lick the tip of his cock.

“I can always stop?”

“N-No keep going” exclaimed Aemond as his wife’s hot wet mouth engulfed his half hard cock.

“When I make a promise, I fully intend on sticking to it. Do you understand?”

“Yes-I understand fully, please Vaeryna do not tease me” moaned Aemond.

“I don’t know, you don’t seem very convincing”.

“I promise-I will remember, just please-oh fuck” huffed Aemond as Vaeryna took his cock into her mouth once again.

Vaelys smirked deviously as she continued to tease her husband, she was determined to make him beg and plead for her mercy and only when he was on the brink would she grant it.

The night was still young, and she would have her husband as many times as he was able to rouse himself.

Aemond sat at the breakfast table, exhaustion evident in the lines etched upon his face and the heavy droop of his eyelid. Beside him, their children Sovia, Daevyn, Aemon, and Rekara chatted animatedly, their youthful energy a stark contrast to their father's weariness.

Across the table, Helaena, and her children Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor joined them, along with Daeron. Aemond tried to muster a smile as they exchanged pleasantries, but his mind was still heavy with the weight of the night before.

Sovia, ever perceptive, noticed her father's fatigued state and furrowed her brow in concern. "Father, why do you look so tired?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Aemond rubbed a hand over his weary eye, a tired chuckle escaping his lips. "Just had a long night, my dear," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

Beside him, Vaelys couldn't help but stifle a snigger into her drink, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she exchanged a knowing glance with her husband. She knew all too well the cause of his fatigue, and the memory of their very passionate night together brought a playful glint to her eye.

Aemond shot her a mock glare, but there was a hint of amusement in his tired eyes. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for his mischievous wife, whose laughter never failed to brighten even the darkest of days.

Maelor stood up from his seat at the breakfast table, his young face filled with determination as he addressed his family. "Your Graces-" he began, his voice steady despite the hint of nervousness in his eyes, "-I would like to join the Queens guard”,

Aemond and Vaelys exchanged a glance, a silent communication passing between them as they considered the young boy's plea. Beside them, Helaena watched with a warm smile, her eyes filled with pride and affection for her son.

After a moment of contemplation, Aemond spoke, his voice steady and firm. "Maelor," he said, addressing the boy directly, "Joining the Queen's Guard is a serious commitment, one that requires courage and a lot of discipline, you know that I have insisted on training them myself-I am not one for favouritism.”

“I understand Uncle-I mean Your Grace. But I would like to try. I wish to serve you and my Queen a-and the realm”.

Vaelys smiled, her expression thoughtful yet supportive. "If this is truly what you desire, if you are willing to dedicate yourself to the service of the crown and the protection of the realm, then we will accept your request," she added, her voice gentle but resolute.

Maelor's face lit up with excitement and gratitude, his eyes shining with determination. "Thank you, Your Graces," he said earnestly, his voice filled with conviction. "I promise to serve with honour and distinction, to uphold the values of the Queen's Guard with every fibre of my being."

Aemond and Vaelys exchanged another glance, a silent affirmation passing between them. They knew that Maelor's journey would not be easy, but they also knew that he possessed the courage and determination to succeed.

With a nod of approval, Aemond reached out to clasp Maelor's shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "Welcome to the Queen's Guard, Maelor," he said, his voice filled with pride. "May you serve with honour and valour, and may you always uphold the legacy of those who came before you and training begins on the morrow-I suggest you rest well”.

“Might I suggest you do the same Your Grace-and possibly abstain from such prolonged physical activities the night before” quipped Daeron smirking.

“I had a duty to my Queen-“

“-And we all know how seriously father takes his duties,” laughed Daevyn, his long silver hair swaying back and forth.

“Boy-you’re not too old for a good thrashing” snarked Aemond.

“You wouldn’t dare” quipped Daevyn.

“Oooo Father has that mad look in his eye,” laughed Aemon.

“Daevyn needs to start running” giggled Rekara dreamily.

“-I-What? Asked Daevyn as Aemond rose from the table.

“You heard your sister-you best start running boy” said Aemond.

“M-Mother” exclaimed Daevyn.

“Brought it on yourself son” replied Vaelys smiling.

“You must really want to be thrashed-you don’t seem to be moving very fast” mocked Aemond as he manoeuvred himself away from the table.

“Oh-fuck” gasped Daevyn as he turned on is heel and legged it out of the dining room.

“How long do you think it will be before he realises that I’m not chasing him?” asked Aemond as he sat back down and reached for a drink.

“He’ll probably spend the rest of the day hiding from you now” said Vaelys.

“Father-can we go flying today?” asked Aemon.

“Of course-let’s finish breakfast and we’ll go”.

“Maelach will be pleased-he’s been a little restless since we moved here” muttered Aemon.

“The pit takes some adjusting, he’ll be fine once he gets used to it, but how about we make time in your duties so that you can fly with him every day?” suggested Aemond.

“I would like that very much thank you father” exclaimed Aemon brightly.

“Kara-will you be joining us with Nova?”

“Yes please” giggled Rekara.

“Make sure you change into your riding gear first byka rūklon” said Aemond (Little flower).

“I will-“ replied Rekara softly as she looked towards Ceci who smiled and took her hand.

“I shall ensure the little Princess is properly changed Your Grace”.

“Thank you, Ceci,” replied Aemond.

“Can we come?” asked Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in enthusiastic unison.

“Of course the more the merrier” said Aemond brightly.

“Shall you be joining your father?” asked Vaelys as she looked over at Sovia.

“I was going to find Daevyn actually-we agreed to read to one another under the weirwood tree”.

“Hmmm” muttered Aemond, casting a curious glance at Vaelys who smiled.

“Just make sure to have your guard with you-“ warned Vaelys.

“I will mother-“ said Sovia as she rose from the table and left the room.

“-And no, you won’t manage to sneak off because Daeron will be there as well” said Aemond his loud voice carrying down the hallway.

Vaelys and Helaena stood side by side on the balcony, their eyes turned upwards to the vast expanse of sky stretched out before them. The crisp morning air stirred around them, carrying with it the distant sound of wings beating against the wind.

Above, the majestic forms of dragons soared gracefully through the clouds, their powerful wings slicing through the air. Vhagar, the oldest and largest of them all, led the way, her scales gleaming in the sunlight as she flew with regal authority.

Beside her, Maelach, Nova, Morghul, and Shrykos followed in her wake, their forms a symphony of movement and grace as they danced through the sky.

Vaelys and Helaena watched silently as the dragons disappeared into the distance, their silhouettes fading against the backdrop of the morning sky.

Helaena took Vaelys’ hand and squeezed it gently.

The Dance of Dragons had almost destroyed the Targaryen dynasty, but now they would flourish and live on for generations. A Targaryen was seated upon on the Iron Throne as they were always meant to be, and the dragons would rule the skies for generations to come.

A great dynasty would be born from the blood of Vaelys and Aemond.

No lion or stag would oppose them.

“-And from their blood, will come the Princess who was promised” whispered Helaena.

“Everything ok?” asked Vaelys cocking her head to the side.

“It will be” replied Helaena softly, she leaned her head on her good sister’s shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment and for the briefest of seconds, she saw her again.

A beautiful silver haired dragon, the silver crown of her great grandmother many times over upon her head as she sat the Iron Throne.

‘All hail her Grace-Queen Daenerys Targaryen’

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd smut

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rowaelinsdaughter · 4 months

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KEEP MY HEART CHAPTER I

a/n;; everybody, this is HAPPENING OMG!!!! this is going to be my first story and this is my first fic with my OC (read the information here). this fic is written in 3rd person so there is no use of "you".

i was thinking and maybe im going to write fics using my oc, as i said in my post of the OC, i want to improve, i want to change, i want new things, new experiences... and this is my first step. so i hope u guys enjoy this. (reblogs are appreciated and this doesnt mean im not going to write character x reader, my requests are still open)

WARNINGS;; spoilers for heir of fire, mentions of death

manon blackbeak was eager to come back. she has been hunting crochans for weeks and finally, she reached a cottage in the north of fenharrow and now, she was prepared for blood. hiding in the closet, she listened to the three men that had broken in.

she heard them open the door to the room.

“come out, little crochan,” one of them said.

with their backs to the closet, manon slipped out and quietly closed the bedroom door.

“wrong kind of witch.”

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

the moon was up in the sky when ayla moonsinger approached the cliff where a certain moon-white haired witch was waiting. she looked how her hair danced with the wind and by the pose, she knew manon was enjoying the wind. knew there were few sounds she enjoyed more than the groans of dying men, but the wind was one of them.

step by step, she got closer to her figure until her arms were hugging manons waist, feeling them a smile appeared on her face, one that never allowed to show in front of the matron… or anyone except for the thirteen. her coven. she twisted around to face ayla and took her face between her hands.

hazel eyes and golden eyes looked at each other. looked into their souls.

“hello witchling” manon purred.

ayla leaned her forehead until they were touching. manon was the first one who initiated the kiss. their hands explored each other's bodies while their mouths were a mix of teeth, lips and tongues. ayla was the first one who broke the kiss first, caressing her cheek, manon left kisses on her neck making ayla laugh with delightment.

“manon, your grandmother is coming here soon…”

“let me feel you, i haven't seen you in months”

“i know… i missed you too”

a low whistle sounded from behind and manon snarled, ayla turned around and found asterin leaned on a tree, a smirk displayed on her beautiful face and her braid falled down her shoulder.

“calm down you wolf, it's only asterin.”

manon rolled her eyes and left a kiss on her cheek. if asterin was here that meant the rest of the coven was also here… and the blackbeak matron would be here anytime soon.

they were all positioned when the matron arrived. voluminous midnight robes flowed around her with the wind. the memories flooded her mind like it was yesterday.

her parents dead. her screaming. the matron slapping her face. “you’re coming with me”. her first day, week, month, year. the anniversary of their parents. the old houses of terrasen honoring her house, honoring the last member of the family… her. her first crochan. her first kill.

she hated her. hated the way she was and the way she treated everyone, specially manon and the thirteen. and she hated how she needed to act to survive. because that was not what she learned, she wasnt that way. she wasn't cold hearted, she wasn't cruel. there wasn't a day in which she didn't regret the person she was sometimes. what would my parents think about me? she usually asked herself, and in the long nights where she was hunting, in the nights she couldn't sleep next to her mate, she looked to the stars and searched for the lord of the north and mourned a family, a city, long forgotten.

two hours passed until the matron got out of the caravan where she had talked with a duke. “we are leaving now,” the matron said. manon jerked her chin to the thirteen and they fell in line, ayla between asterin and sorrel. “you two will protect her with your life, is that clear?” and that was 100 years ago. a lifetime now that the magic was gone.

ayla watched manon and her grandmother talk. about what? she didn't want to hear it.

when the matron was gone, ayla and the thirteen approached manon, the first one caressing her lovers back.

“apparently, the king needs riders. wyvern riders for his cavalry” her smile was wicked “we are traveling north”

tagging;; @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @throneofsapphics @shadowdaddies @ladybambifae

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hannibalsbaby · 1 year

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The One Who Pleases Him.

Finally! A Viserys I Targaryen x Stark! Reader blurb. Instead of marrying Alicent Hightower, Viserys marries Cregan Starks aunt (18-20 years old). This obviously takes place around episodes 2&3, so I know Cregan hasn't been born yet. I also know it's not really Aegon's prophecy that Viserys was so adamant about having a boy for, but just pretend. Reblogs are appreciated but do not post my work on other sites! Feedback is always appreciated as well. I hope you guys enjoy it!

The italic, in the beginning, is a flashback/memory.

Warnings: Language, violence, death, grief.

The prophecy that brought him to the North, was the same prophecy that killed his beloved Aemma. “Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men. It's, to begin with, a terrible winter, gusting out of the distant North. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds, and whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living. When this great winter comes, Rhaenyra, all of Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A King or Queen strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark. Aegon called his dream The Song of Ice and Fire," is what Viserys told his daughter, his heir. He believed it, every word of it.

So, when the Starks offered their daughter’s hand, he was not going to refuse. Learning from the North could help him explain the prophecy better, or even solve it before it happened. Yet, he never expected to fall in love.

↳

It had only been six months after their wedding, and Viserys could say that he was the happiest he had been since the death of his beloved. The way his bride was so gentle with him, the way she would gently rub his shoulders as he worked on his model of Old Valyria and would be so interested in what he had to say about it. “My dear dragon, what is that,” she asked so softly as she pointed to something in the model from behind him. The question was genuine, he could tell from how her hand shook slightly as she was nervous to ask it. She quickly retracted her hand and laid it on his shoulder. Her gentle hands rubbed the fabric of his extravagant robe.

Viserys thought about her question as he eyed what she pointed at. He smiled softly as he realized what it was, “Oh, my dear. You noticed a hidden dragon lair,” it was a simple response but he knew she would appreciate the simplicity of it. All she wanted was truth and reason, Viserys knew that. He reach back and held the hand that rested on his shoulder.

“Thank you, my dragon,” she thanked him genuinely and laid a kiss on the top of his head. The smell of him overtook her senses. Her husband smelled of soft spices, sweat, and fire. She loved the way he smelt, no other man had made their scent as appealing as his. She was genuinely obsessed with the King, and she couldn’t wait to give him children.

The King did not know why she called him her dragon, but he wasn’t going to complain. The nickname was something he learned to hold dear in his heart. Her soft voice, loving touches, and sweet gestures made the grief he felt so much easier to bear. His bride even allowed him to speak of his beloved, she said it would be easier for them to navigate their relationship. He was thankful for everything she did for him, and at times he felt as if he could not give her the same back.

“You are a gift to me. I have not done anything to deserve you, my Queen,” he spoke softly, his breathing stuttering as he spoke. He had not been one to speak the loving words she always did, but at this moment he felt as if he could do anything in the world. He stood up and turned to face her, he felt her hands drop from his shoulder as did his from her own. He looked her in the eyes, and he saw all of the emotion clouded inside of hers.

A single tear gently rolled down her flushed cheek. “Viserys, my dragon, you deserve everything and more. You are the strongest man I know,” her soft hand came to his cheek and cupped it. Her thumb caressed it with love and adoration. Her face leaned into his, and the two pairs of lips met in a gentle but loving kiss. It was not long-lived, but it cleared any doubt the couple had.

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sonicuniversesmackdown · 9 months

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Round One Match-ups

Round One will begin on Saturday 22nd July, when all 32 polls in the round will be posted and shall run for one week

Tumblr only lets you tag so many blogs in one post, so the left side will be posted below and the right side in a reblog, along with some notes:

TOP LEFT

Miles "Tails" Prower (OVA) - @tailsshowdown vs Blaze the Cat (IDW) - @blazeshowdown Shadow the Hedgehog & Maria Robotnik - @tragicsibsshowdown vs Dr. Eggman - @stachebracket Amy Rose (Fleetway) - @amyroseshowdown vs SONIC vs. KNUCKLES ~ NORTH WIND - @thepeakofsonicmusic Knuckles the Echidna - @sonicmalematchup vs Metal Sonic - @sonicpoorlittlemeowmeowshowdown Sonic the Hedgehog (IDW) - @bestactualsonicshowdown vs Stardust Speedway Bad Future (JP) - @sonic-instrumental-matchup Barry the Quokka - @themurderofsonic-knockout vs E-102 Gamma - @sonicseriesroboshowdown Sonic Adventure 2 OST - @best-sonic-soundtracks vs Shadow the Hedgehog - @edgelord-battle-bracket Ebony the Mystic Mog - @secretsonicshowdown vs Miles "Tails" Prower - @sonic-palooza

BOTTOM LEFT

Miles "Tails" Prower (Sonic X) - @sonicxpolll vs Matilda the Ant by @halcyon-pandion & @frostios - @sonic-oc-showdown Bunnie Rabbot-D'Coolette (pre-SGW) - @ultimatearchiesonicbracket vs Amy/Blaze - @sonicshipbattles Sonic's Theme (The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog) - @sonic-instrumental-matchup vs Knuckles the Echidna (Movie) - @knucklesshowdown Dr. Starline - @idwsonicshowdown vs Metal Sonic - @sonicvillaindeathmatch Infinite the Jackal (Post-Redemption) by @dreaminginmysoup - @best-infinite-brawl vs The Master Emerald - @sonic-macguffin-matchup Sonic/no one - @sonicshipbattles vs Stardust Speedway Present (JP/EU) - @thepeakofsonicmusic Rouge the Bat - @sonicgirlsmackdown vs Shadow the Hedgehog (Pre-SGW) - @shadowsmackdown Maria Robotnik - @bestsonichuman vs Sonic the Hedgehog & Miles "Tails" Prower - @adhdvsautismbracket

#Poll Notes #Round One #Sonic Universe Smackdown

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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Minimal Losses // Jake Seresin

Chapter Four: Kryptonite

Summary: Jake occupancies you down to the local North Island precinct and is totally stuck by the way you are treated by the local authorities.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x FBI!reader. Slow Burn. Criminal Minds crossover. Sexism, misogyny.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author Note: I want you ALL to know that ONE reblog was responsible for reviving this series and putting it back into my writing roster. That’s all it took. One comment. MASTERLIST

Jake, for the life of him, couldn’t quite get a good grasp on the reality he was falling into. He's sitting at a blackened glass round table, in a conference room that he isn't sure he has clearance to be in, sweating so profusely that he’ll need to change his shirt the second he gets back to base.

He hasn’t even really recovered from seeing how easily one of Ben Stiller's many variants had treated you at the front gate, he’s seething, seeing red, but he has to accept that that’s something you've dealt with far too many times to count to even be phased by it now. Desensitised.

There's a man sitting across from him he doesn't know, he’s only just walked in a few seconds ago with a stack of paperwork and cream coloured files. Sitting across from Jake with a huff, clearly pressed for time. The man with dark hair and brown eyes seems to be rattled, but Jake isn't going to be the one who initiates the conversation. It's so quiet he can hear the ticks of hands on the clock hanging above his head.

Spencer Reid is on his left, sitting patiently as ever as he decides now's an incredibly appropriate time to get some light reading done. Jake swears the guy only started the book twenty seconds ago and he's nearing the back pages. He can’t help but to feel awkward and far less worthy than he’s ever felt while he’s tucked between two PHD having brainiacs. But as the thoughts of unworthiness threaten to overcome him, Jake looks to his right, with anxiety he didn't know he could experience riddling his nervous system, he watches as a soft smile creeps across his face absentmindedly as you take a bite of the ham and cheese sandwich he’d watch you slap together in a hurry in the kitchen of the precinct. Typing away with one hand on your laptop that's prompted open in front of you, catching Jake looking at you in your peripheral is what has you freezing, looking at him with a smile so pure it sends his heart clear out of this world. He’s in love.

“Did you want a bite?” You ask as if you're sitting in the livingroom of the dorm you’re occupying back at base and not about to discuss highly classified information regarding an ongoing murder investigation. “I can share if you want?” You ask again and it only has Jake's heart pounding against his chest harder. You were everything he’d dreamed of and then some. Brilliant minded, whitty, so incredibly intelligent, he loved the way your glasses sat just perfectly on the bridge of your nose. He adored the way you just pushed your hair back into whatever position, shape and place would hold. Jake thinks he’s dying, he’s never felt this kind of sensation before—it’s like he’s floating. He’s never been in love with someone before. “Or I can quickly race back and make you one? You like ham and cheese?”

“Nah, nah, I think I'm good.” Jake rubs his clammy hands on his jeans as you go back to what you were working on. He just sits there in awe of everything around him. How you did this for a living he’d never understand.

“JAG got wind of the ongoing investigation.” You don't even look up from the email Special Agent Bradshaw had just CC’d you in on. “Apparently they wanna take over the case.” Jake sat back as he listened, watching intentionally with how you acted around your own team. “Agent Bradshaw just emailed me a copy of the email chain, seems like they’re really pushing—“

“Well, you can tell JAG, Kas, that that won't be happening.” Aaron Hotchener passed you one of the many cream coloured files he’d lugged into the room as Reid sat up a little straighter with his ears pricked to attention. “Ensign Sue Snelling was just found dead in the engine room of the Lexington, thismorning, that’s three victims, no arrest.” Opening the file, you had to quickly shut it so as to not throw up the sandwich you’d just finished scoffing down. “I've just touched base with Agent Bradshaw, she's in the process of pulling her men from the other carriers that we’d had our eyes on but this just means it's been confirmed a serial killer is currently stationed out on the UUS Lexinton and we need to act now.”

“Did the unsub use the same methods?” Spencer asked as he leaned over to take the file from you. “That’s interesting considering he’d know that killing abroad only makes it easier to narrow it down. Like catching fish in a barrel.”

“Unsub?” Jake asked curiously as he looked at Spencer, his elbows now resting on the glass tabletop.

“It means Unknown Subjects.” You explained, which made Jake frown because he thought you knew who the guy was. “We have our suspicions, now we know he’s on the Lexington for sure it rules out a handful of other persons of interest.”

“You must be Jake Seresin?” Aaron smirked for a second from across the table. “I’m Special Agent Aaron Hotcher, Behavioral Analysis Unit chief—Sorry, I’ve had your file sitting on my desk for about a week now but I trust Agent Bradshaw's judgement enough to know she wouldn’t pick a lemon and I haven’t received a distress text from Agent Kas here either.” Hotch kinked his gaze your way for a brief moment as you dipped your chin. Jake wondered if distress texts were something you often sent out. “So, I trust that you’re up to speed and ready to sign your life away to the government for better or worse.”

“I already did that the second I was tapped out of the naval academy, sir—I’m government barcoded and all.” Jake cracked the slight joke just so he could hear you laugh, it worked. Spencer watched with a questioning brow as you covered your mouth to muffle the sounds that escaped without force. He’d never known you to be one for romance, although—he’d never seen someone look at you the way he observed Jake. It was with kind, compassionate eyes that Jake admired you.

“I trust you'll be a fine asset to the team Lieutenant Seresin, Y/n here is an exceptional analysis—keep up with her and you’ll be just fine.” Jake took a moment to rub his hands against his thighs again, suddenly feeling in over his head. He was used to being the best at what he did—but now he wasn’t even on the register. You could sense Jake was spiralling, opting to fish for his pinky under the table and hook yours with his. Grounding the naval aviator who’d drawn you out of your shell.

“You and Agent Kas will be stationed out to the Lexington with the rest of your squadron as of late tomorrow afternoon—we can’t afford to push this anymore than that if we’re another victim down.”

“I don’t know how you guys are gonna spin such a quick turn around.” Jake scoffed softly in disbelief. “Some of the guys who aren’t privy to this whole undercover investigation are gonna smell that somethings up.” Jake was right, but Hotch was already two steps ahead in the short amount of time it had taken you and Jake to shower, change and head over to the precinct. Sliding a cream folder into the aviator's hands, Hotch tilted his head at you in a shared moment of thought. Jake had his head screwed on tight, Arron Hotchner respected that.

“You’re admirals are in a briefing as we speak, they’ll have to figure something out and figure it out fast because you, Lieutenant, are officially an employee of the BAU.” Jake eyed off the content of the file Hotch had slid Jake. It was his. Anything anyone needed to know about Jake Seresin was contained in that file. Stamped across the front read liaison officer. “Bradshaw tells me you’ve been carrying some old NCIS badge around like it’s made of gold.” Spencer snickered to himself as Jake's cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. You couldn’t help but to laugh as Hotch tossed him a leather flipper case. “So I took liberty and got you actual liaison officer credentials, agent Seresin.”

“Now it’s really official—“ You cooed, smiling at Jake with genuine kindness and admiration as he showed you the credentials you carried around all day everyday. To you they were just another form of Identification, but to Jake? It was something else. He had a duty to keep you safe. That was his only task.

“I haven’t had a chance to organise a weapons training session for Lieutenant Seresin, should I organise that before we go back to the naval base?” You stated and Hotch just shook his head softly. You were good at your job, he’d give you that—but you needed more experience in fieldwork. There was a small part of him that thought you were in over your head with this case—too young, too youthful, too by the book, but Agent Bradshaw had been the one to slap him upside the head and told him to give you a chance. She saw something in you not a lot of people saw. Strength. This was your case and you’d work it start to damn finish.

Much like Spencer, everything was by the book. So when you looked at Hotch as if he’d just told you to forget about the very book you were told to know word for word, he simply replied with something that resonated with Jake a lot more than he’d probably intended it to.

“He doesn’t need to carry a gun to be able to kill someone, Kas.”

“Would be good to at least have him cleared for handling, just for legality purposes.” Spencer could sense the frustration going against protocol and procedure brought you. He could practically see the existential crisis brewing under your skin. “Have you ever handled a gun Lieutenant Seresin?”

“Probably not to the extent you three have but yeah, I’ve dabbled in the odd firing range excursion.” Jake's father had been an avid hunter growing up. He knew his way around a hunting gun, but he’d never used a gun for anything other than shooting rabbits, ducks or deer.

“You and Kasper can head on down to the firing range for a quick skill eval.” Hotch sighed, holding the bridge of his nose. “You’ll need to be quick.”

“I heard Morgan’s in to do a talk on cop killers.” Spencer added as he stood. “I’ll have him line up a skill eval and we can kill two birds with one stone.”

“Perfect, set it up, get these two kitted up, signed out and on that carrier before we end up with another victim—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Alright alright!” You beamed as Jake flashed you his new credentials in the elevator down to the shooting range. “You can stop showing me your badge Jake, it’s getting old.”

“Sorry—it’s actually Agent Seresin now.” Jake corrected you as he pocketed the new identity he’d unlocked, another level of self promotion to ascend his already higher than heaven ego. “God, Roosters gonna cream his pants when I show him.”

“You and Rooster close?” You asked gracefully as the elevator dinged, Jake let you walk out first as his hand fell to the small of your hip. Guiding you although he had no idea where he was going. “Seems as though you get along with Agent Bradshaw on a personal level as well as professional?”

“Well, it’s—“ Jake wasn’t sure this very moment was the most appropriate time to go over his relationship with the Bradshaws. “They’re my people, to put it simply.” That was no word of a lie.

As you and Jake entered the firing range, there were a vast variety of men in uniform huddling around one of the firing zones. Pushing through—you met Derek Morgan, a familiar face amongst a sea of people you didn’t know.

“Hey, Morgan? Why’d you call all these people down here for?” You greeted the much older man who just smiled at you, nodding at Jake in the process— acknowledging his presence. There would be a later time for formal introductions, but right now was not that time.

Hey! How you doin kid?” Morgan teased, he was forever taunting you about your age. “Does your mother know you're here?” Jake caught onto the way people treated you quickly. He was aware that Agent Bradshaw treated you with enough respect that it put a pep in your step, but Jake also caught the glances the men surrounding you at the present gave you. Like you weren’t supposed to be here.

“Give me that.” You hissed as you snatched the handgun from Morgan’s hand, placing a single round into the chamber as you walked into the shooting zone. You placed the earmuffs over your ears haphazardly that have been hanging on the hook beside you and with a single exhale and soft shoulders, you fired the round with precise precision.

“Nice shooting Kas–” Morgan promptly complimented you. Taking the gun as you held it out for him.

“Better than Billy the kid.” You beamed, again—Jake noticed the pep in your step.

“Diaper rash makes you cranky huh?” That same pep was gone just a few seconds later. “Here.” Morgan handed you the target you’d shot, there was a bullet hole directly in the middle of the target. “Give this to your mum, maybe she’ll stick it on the refrigerator door.”

The girl who stood amongst a sea of testosterone wasn’t the girl Jake had taken home that night from the bar, you’d shrunken six feet under as your shoulders slumped, taking the target sheet from Morgan. He didn’t know how much his commitment affected you, but Jake could see straight through the tough exterior you tried to front.

“Shit, that was pretty badass, you know—“ Jake caught your gaze as you came to sant beside him, bumping his hip to yours. “For a behavioural analysis.”

“I took an advanced firearms course my second year with the bureau, not that I ever thought I’d be in the field.” With every day that past, Jake Seresin learnt a new fact about you that left him stunned into complete silence. For someone who had the gift of the gab, that was a compliment in and of itself. You’d been the only person who could render Jake silent. With nothing to say.

“Okay who's wearing?” Morgan looked around the group of police officers who just stared at him blindly like he’d asked such a personal question. When no one answered, you frowned. Idiots you thought as you rolled your eyes.

Raising your hand, every man that stood in the room laughed and turned to one another like you'd just outed yourself as some prissy desk jockey.

“Kas?” Morgan even raised a brow in response to you wearing a vest.

“Everyone should be wearing.” You replied shortly. “It’s protocol.” Looking around, all eyes were on you. All snickering, all looking down at you.

“Okay, fair—but baby girl imma need to borrow it real quick.” Morgan smirked, gesturing for you to hand over your vest.

“Here sugar, let me assist you–” a voice called out from the back of the crowd before a gaggle of laughter erupted from the man who all stood around waiting for the demonstration to begin. Jake couldn’t have clenched his jaw harder if he wanted to.

“Oh no thanks, I've been dressing myself since I was five years old.” You snapped back, turning your chest into Jake to shield yourself from being completely exposed as you undressed from the waist up. “All you perverts turn your heads.” You spoke over your shoulder as a horrifying whistle echoed throughout the firing zone. Jake saw red as he looked down at you, watching as you slipped your shirt over your head, unclipping the bullet proof vest that you’d been wearing since you left the base. It left you vulnerable, exposed in just your bra. “Here.” You handed Morgan the vest with a meek look. Fuck you could just die right about now.

“Hey, I’m right here—don’t worry about anyone else.” Jake cooed, his eyes searching yours for confirmation you were listening to him. Tilting your chin up with his index finger and thumb as you balled your shirt up in your firsts against his chest. “I ain’t gonna let no one hurt you.” Jake was quick to whisper. “But for what it's worth? Both on and off the record? I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You would have kissed him then and there on the spot if you hadn’t been standing where you were. Morgan’s voice brought you crashing down to reality harder than ever as you worked to throw your short back on. Turning so your back was now against Jake's chest.

“Okay everybody listen up, I want you all to take a good look at these lovely little bullets.” Morgan handed out a handful of red tipped bullets. “Cute right? You’ll notice the smooth jacket, pay particular attention to the tip.” Hanging your vest, Morgan pushed the bottom that had it flying back towards the furthest point away from the shooting range. Further back than you’d ever really seen anyone practise at.

“Now you've all seen one of these vests stop a .357 magnum bullet at close range haven't you?” Everyone nodded, including you. Jake nodded just to fit in but he didn’t know shit. “Observe–” Morgan turned, firing a single round into the vest at long range. You weren’t too sure what to expect, but as he pressed the button to bring the vest back to the window, you audibly gasped.

“Son of a bitch–” You sighed, watching as Mogan poked his finger right through the bullet hole he’d shot straight through the vest. Pulling out a piece of protective armour and holding it up. A single round had gone straight through.

“Armour-piercing bullets?” Jake raised an eyebrow as he leaned in behind you to whisper his concern into your ear, not wanting to sound dumb to anyone other than you.

“Yeah, cop killers.”

“Now these bullets came from a suspect one of you fine young men arrested yesterday.” Morgan passed one of the police officers who stood stunned the bullet pierced armour plate that had now been rendered useless. “Yep–that's right, gentleman, and lovely little lady.” Morgan turned to you, the only woman in the room. “They’re out on the streets.”

It made your heart race slightly, the idea of far less protection being readily available now than there was before. What a time to make a breakout in your career, there was a slight moment of regret behind your eyes as you turned into Jake, he looked just as worried as you did but he wasn't plagued with the same plethora of knowledge you were. You should have stayed behind the desk, given the case to someone with more experience, you were far too in over your head.

Morgan handed you the shot through vest, winking as he noticed the way you hung closer to Jake than he’d ever seen you hang around anyone. You were far too much like Spencer in that aspect, walking, talking computers. He smiled, taking in the fact you hadnt bothered to separate from your new partner, clearly comfortable in his presence as you took the vest back. Pressing your lips together in a tight line as Jake let his hand rest on your shoulder.

“Vests are optionals boys and girls, especially girls.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

You could tell something was up just by the way Jake was practically silent in the car on the way back to base. He had the gift of the gab, so when Jake Seresin was silent it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that something was ping ponging around his that big ass head of his.

“Jake, it's fine–” You sighed, letting your shoulders slump back as you drove, your hands at ten and two.

“I really don’t fuck with the way you’re treated.” Jake’s voice came out far more gruff than he intended it to as he looked out the window. “From that dickhead at the gate to that Derek guy to the way those officers just–” He couldn't finish his own sentence without clenching his jar, cracking his knuckles. “You should stand up for yourself a little more, you know that right?”

“Huh.” It was hard not to feel slightly offended, amongst all the little jabs that had been dealt your way today, Jakes had been the hashest of them all, unintentionally. “I'll be sure to put that at the top of my to-do list, Lieutenant Sersin.”

“Kas–” Jake let his head fall back against the headrest as he turned to look at you. He hadnt noticed the glossy look in your eyes or the way you bit your bottom lip until it was too late to take what he’d already said back. “I didn't mean it like that, I just think you deserve so much more respect than you’re given and if people aren't giving it to you then you need to–”

“Jake, I already have enough people telling me what to do right now, I don't need you adding yourself to that ever growing list.” The drive back to base wasn't all that far, but with the way Jake was burning a hole into the side of your head with his glare, it felt like a lifetime.

“You are the most intelligent person I know, yet you act like you’re less than significant?” Jake questioned, he didn't understand why you let people walk all over you. He didn't understand why you didn't speak up when being spoken down to. He didn't understand what it was like to be a woman in a man's world. He’d only ever surrounded himself with people like Phoenix and Special Agent Bradshaw. His mother and sisters would ever let someone treat them the way you let others treat you. Powerful forces to be reckoned with who took no crap from anyone, including him.

You were just different, Jake didn't understand why you weren't like the other women in his life. For someone as brilliant minded and gifted as you he thought there would have had to have been some sort of cockness to you–a level of I know more than you, somewhere buried deep inside. But you just didn't see yourself the way he saw you.

“The way people talk down to you, it makes me want to break every bone in their body.” Jake saw you as a higher power, a goddess living amongst merely mortal men.

“I am insignificant, Jake.” You mumbled as you turned into the base car park, dreading having to pretend to be someone you weren't. A fighter pilot with balls of steel. You couldn't even stop yourself from getting a nosebleed. “I'm a pencil pusher! I'm not like Agent Bradshaw, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm in over my head and people are dying.” Jake just let you talk, he listened with intent to everything you had to say, wanting an insight into how you saw yourself.

“There is a serial killer on a carrier in the middle of the ocean and my sole responsibility right now is making sure I take him down and you’re sitting here, telling me I need to stand up for myself?”

“I'm not trying to tell you anything Kas, I just think you deserve more respect than what's given to you.” Jake reached gently for your hand, being careful not to startle you as he guided your grip off the wheel and into his palm, fingers intertwining as he brought the palm of your hand up to his mouth–pressing his lips to your pal in a simple domestic act of admiration. “You are so beautiful, so intelligent, it's hard to understand how people don't see you the way I see you.”

“Oh yeah? And how exactly do you see me?” Jake wanted to say as the love of his life, he wanted to say his future wife, the mother of his children he didn't know he wanted. But he knew that sounded crazy, so he stuffed the crazy deep inside and went with something a little more appropriate.

“I see you for you, Y/n.” You had to pull your eyes away from the carpark you'd just parked in for a few seconds to really take a minute to look at Jake. “The reason I came up to you at the Hard Deck initially had been because I thought you were one hell of a looker.” You had to chuckle, you couldn't help it, shaking your head as Jake tilted your chin back up to look at him. “But unlike all the other women I’ve met, you didn’t fall for my crap, you spoke to me like you knew every answer to every question I could think of.” Leaning over the centre console, you smirked against Jake's lips as he pulled you close with his hand pressed to the back of your head.

“I still slept with you though—“ Jake's lips ghosted your own as he smiled devilishly, rubbing the pad of his thumb behind your ear as he kept you leaning into him. “Three times actually, so I can’t be as bright as you think I am.”

“Everyone’s got a kryptonite.” That’s what sent you and Jake into a frenzy, gripping onto each other like you were the last two people on earth, dizzy and needy. Your lips crashed against Jakes as his hand moved from the back of your head to the dip of your neck, holding you in a feverish kiss that honestly had you seeing stars.

Your tongue danced with Jakes like you'd known him for a lifetime, before you pulled away to breath, to find your bearing and remember you were back at base.

“What you saw today, that's an everyday occurrence, to me it's just become an occupational hazard, so unless you are single handedly going to change the stigma surrounding Female Agents, Lieutenant Seresin?”

“That's Agent Seresin with the FBI to you Lieutenant Jackson.” You couldn't help but to scoff, shaking your head as you bit your bottom lip.

“Do me a goddamn favour and get off my dick.” Jake just beamed, wrinkled his nose and balled his fist as if he were celebrating a victory of some sort, looking at you with such bright, love filled eyes. You were defending yourself, well–trying to, in the safety net of Jake Seresin. Your effort was met with a thousand watt grin, the corners of Jakes lips tucked ear to ear before he cooed three simple words that had you drooling.

“That's my girl.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags // @auroraboreallisfine @buckythewintersquirrel @a-lil-bit-nuts @bookaholics-stuff @ilovewhalesharks444 @a-serene-place-to-be @alexsisrebekah @rhirhikingston @caitsymichelle13 @twsssmlmaa @chaoticversion @topguncultleader @averyhotchner @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @avaleineandafryingpan @endofdays56 @dempy

#minimal losses // jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x y/n

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the-common-cowgirl · 9 months

Text

The Lost Children

- Chapter 5

Summary: You get to an inn on the road and the lie must continue under the watch of two of Edward’s men. You and Osferth must share a room and dun…dun…duhhhhh…..there’s one bed. Words are shared and feelings - along with other things - arise.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, Innuendos, Cursing, Blasphemy, Religious guilt, Period typical slut shaming, mentions of sex work, sexual tension, spiteful pet names, slight dry humping? Reader not really being a menace anymore!

A/N: if you enjoy this, please let me know by commenting, liking, sending me a message or rebloging - it keeps me motivated! Lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

In the days following your near-intimate encounter with Osferth, he grew cold toward you and distanced himself from you except whenever necessary. Eadith now only tended to your wound and once you were able to walk again, Osferth had urged Uhtred to sell the wagon and buy a horse for you so the entire gang could move faster and freer without the burden of a large wagon trailing behind the riders. Without the burden of you in Osferth’s space, you thought.

Two days after Osferth made the request, you rode into a little village on the coast of East Anglia with a decent livery stable and Uhtred went in alone to trade the wagon in exchange for a steed.

Uhtred walked out of the stable with a young, brown mare that had an upside down fishhook on her face. She was sturdily built and looked like a far more capable horse than the wagon horse Osferth had kept for himself. You assumed bitterly that Uhtred would give the dashing brown mare with the hook on her face to Osferth and leave the little flaxen wagon horse for you but Uhtred neared you with a grin on his face and handed you the reins. “She’s yours.”

You looked into your father’s eyes - Uhtred’s eyes - trying to find his jest or maybe an ulterior motive but he looked genuine, if not apologetic. You took the reins in one hand while the other hand ran along the muscular neck of the young mare, appreciating the strength and fire she seemed to posses under her shiny, young coat, much unlike the horse he had given you before. You looked to Uhtred again and almost smiled, “Thank you, she’s perfect.”

Uhtred smiled. Triumphant and bold. You knew then, this horse was an apology of sorts from Uhtred. You’d accept the mare, not the apology. He’d have to try harder, do better.

You hoisted yourself into the saddle of the mare, pain shooting through your healing leg but as soon as you relaxed on her back, it settled into a small ache. The rest of the group mounted their horses too, waiting Uhtred’s direction.

“The livery owner said there is an inn only a short distance north of the village on this road.” Uhtred looked around to his men with a gleam in his eye, “We shall race?”

Finan whooped and turned his horse around. Before you knew it, he took off North, Sihtric following close behind. Uhtred kicked his horse into a gallop next and your new mare beneath you danced in anticipation of following the others.

Truly, you wished you had time to know her before you took off. If she was spooky, hard to control, or even a bit wild but the mare gave you no chance, she took off in pursuit of the other three horses racing without permission from you.

The first ten or so strides, you tried to pull her up, slow her down but she wasn’t having any of it. If anything, your struggling spurred her on more and she set a faster pace. Even though you were a good distance from the three that took off first, you caught up to them in little time, then you passed them without much effort.

Finally deciding the speed in which your mare could move was something to be treasured, not afraid of, you squeezed your heels into the mare and released the pressure from the reins. She raised her head slightly at the loss of tension and picked up an even faster pace. Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes from the wind smacking your face and you laughed to yourself giddily. Soon, you both passed a row of trees to see the inn on the other side but your mare wasn’t slowing down now that she was leagues in front of the rest of the group. You sat deep and spoke to her lowly, trying to get her to slow down, which she eventually did, not before you were a good distance north of the inn.

Once she stopped, you patted her strong neck and thanked her for your ride. Her breathing was rushed and she broke a sweat but she seemed to have more fire within in her to sprint for miles longer. After some time of sitting there and letting both of you catch your breath, you heard one of the horses in the distance near the inn whinny and your mare snorted impatiently and turned south on her own, walking briskly back toward the inn. You laughed at her demeanor and you knew that this pairing was right. It’s like Uhtred asked the livery owner for a horse just like yourself.

That thought made you chuckle, perhaps he did.

When you got back to the inn, you saw the rest of the crew’s horses tied up outside and you quickly figured that they must already be inside. You hopped off your mare, pain struck in your healing leg. You were used to riding shorter horses and had forgotten about your leg entirely from the adrenaline of the ride with your new mare. You stumbled backwards from the pain only to find two hands that caught you from falling into the mud.

“I’ve got you,” Osferth’s voice rang into your hair as he set you upright on your balance again.

You felt that familiar feeling of anger boil up in your chest at Osferth coming in to rescue you after pretending you didn’t exist for so long. You turned to Osferth with an expression of confusion and disgust written across your face so clearly it made him take a step back, “What happened to you avoiding my existence? You know, since I am such a sinner. What about those lessons you were teaching me? You’d prefer to have me die then teach me how to defend myself?”

You were growing heated in your body from the fire and anger raging in your heart. This was the first time you had talked to Osferth since he practically called you a harlot, and you’d let him have all your rage. You voice was growing louder now and you figured in your mind that the best time for the truth was the present, you could regret it later if you needed to. “You know, there was a time when I lust after you? I thought our unique upbringings made us equals. However, I was wrong in both aspects, you’re nothing but a pious,” you took a step closer to him, “self-loathing,” another step, “little,” you were nearly nose to nose, “monk-“

He cut you off before you could add the “-ey” at the end of monk, just to add insult to injury but Osferth would never know since his hands now reside firmly, nearly painfully on the back of your head and over your mouth. He had a firm hold of your head and brought it closer to him, his lips, as he spoke these next words lowly and threateningly through his teeth and into your ear.

“Two of Edwards men are in the inn. They had begun questioning Uhtred and I on your whereabouts when you did not come in with us.” He removed the hand from your mouth, leaving the one on the back of your head, tangled in your long hair to keep you from moving away from him. “You remember that we are supposed to be lovers right?”

You looked into his blue eyes, blown wide with - adrenaline? And you scoffed. “That will be a hard task for us. To pretend to be lovers, to pretend to even like each other…”

Osferth rolled his eyes and detangled his hand from the back of your hair. His hand fell down your shoulder, arm, and found purchase in your hand. Weaving his fingers with your own, “come along. We’ll pretend you’re not feeling well and just wait tonight out in our room.”

“OUR room?” You echoed as he drug you toward the inn’s door. Before entering the door, he handed a coin to a boy near the door, “Please unsaddle, feed, and water her mare.” He pointed toward the big brown mare at the end who was shifting nervously. “And if you have room in any in the barn, please stall her. She looks like she will tear the hitching post down.”

“Like myself with the inn if you force me to sleep in the same bed with you.”

Osferth only rolled his eyes in annoyance at your retort. Pushing the door to the inn open, “Time to pretend.”

You had quickly made your way to the second story of the inn while Osferth made fake excuses for you to Uhtred (who was sitting with both of Edward’s men) and explained he’d retire with you to make certain you were well throughout the night. When Osferth found you waiting in the landing of the inn’s second story, he showed you your room. Your shared room.

It was smaller than the room in Winchester and there was one bed….of course there was one bed. “You’re sleeping on the ground,” you stated as the door shut and you walked further into the room.

Osferth grunted, “As my Lady wishes.”

Surprised he had not given up more of a fight for the comfort of the mattress, you turned around to where he was in the corner of the room - undressing. Seeing only his top, chiseled half as he left his trousers on. You feigned being struck in the eye with an arrow and turned as if in pain.

“Osferth! You could have let me know you were getting nude! I would have stepped out of the room!”

Osferth only rolled his eyes at your comment which you did not see due to your hands protectively covering your eyes. “If you would have stepped out for me to change, that would raise suspicion.”

He walked to the door behind you.

“I doubt Edward s men are up here now waiting with their ears to our door. Should we jump on the bed to feign lovemaking or can you just whimper and moan all night in your sleep to make the entire inn believe that we are humping?”

You turned to Osferth with a devilish smile on your lips, hoping that your crude words had embarrassed him but he only stood with his hand on the doorknob, half naked with his robe in his hands, staring at your darkly. You had to admit, this took you aback.

“Tis not the man that whimper and moans,” he corrected you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure if you had heard him right. “What?”

Osferth leaned in close, “Women are the creatures of sound in the act.”

You felt you chest heat up and a strange feeling in your core. “I wouldn’t know,” you breathed out honestly.

He eyed you up and down, then hummed to himself as if deciding against his internal wishes, “God would want to keep you that way. Innocent until marriage.”

You narrowed your eyes, “God can go fuck himself.” You nearly spat as you walked away from Osferth with a strange sense of defeat. “Where are you going anyway?” You turned back to him with your arms crossed over his chest.

Osferth dropped his dark gaze and seemingly returned to his recent self. Cold and rude. “Since you won and exceeded the little race we had, you didn’t see me come dead last on the little wagon pony. Nor did you see the little beast throw me at the end of the road.”

You giggled at Osferth loosing and being covered in mud. You wished you could have seen him fall. “So you’re going to wash your clothes?”

He nodded, opening the door. “And take a warm bath to ease the aches of the fall.” He stepped out, “Don’t wait up for me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, my love,” you called as he gave you one last tired look and shut the door.

You were asleep in the bed when the door to your room opened and Osferth stepped through. He viewed your sleeping frame and was abruptly reminded that when you slept was the only time you looked peaceful, angelic even. He thought bitterly to himself as he blew out the candles of the room you had kept going for his return, that if you were as peaceful when you were awake as you were when you were asleep, maybe he’d marry you. Start a family with you. If only you loved God as he did. If only you were tame and gentle. If only you weren’t a heathen daughter who was content in sin, maybe there would be a future in which you and him could live as man and wife. Away from fighting and politics of the crown. Away from places where words like “bastard” or “lost” followed you two around. Maybe, in another life, there was a world where things were different. He could only dream though, he knew that. Heaven existed after death, not during life. Life was for suffering, if the monastery taught him anything, it was that. So he’d have to suffer and pine after things that could not be, like a life where he could love you.

You stirred as the second to last candle was blown out and Osferth turned to view your sleepy stare on him. “I can sleep on the ground,” you said with a tired gravel to your voice. “You’re hurt.”

Osferth felt heat embrace his cheeks and he almost smiled, “No, you can have the bed. It’s improper for me to let a lady sleep on the ground.”

Suddenly, you shocked him, offering a gentle kindness by moving the covers of the side of the somewhat spacious bed that wasn’t being used by you. “You can sleep with me then.” He stared at you with trepidation, wondering if this was a good idea, “I don’t bite,” you said turning onto the other side and your back facing him.

He wondered to himself if this was a good idea. The aches in his bones told him yes but his own morality told him no. Eventually, he decided to join you in the bed, moral loosing to physical ache and if not for an ache in his bones, an ache somewhere else.

The bed was soft, the covers were warm. The person lying next to Osferth in bed was quiet….until you weren’t.

“I was just reciprocating the feelings I felt in the moment.” Your voice was so small now, full of defense but no malice. It was strange for both of you to hear it that way.

Osferth lie with his back flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the night. “What?”

You took in a deep breath next to him, it made the bed move slightly. “I thought you wanted me too.”

Osferth now sighed, long and quietly through his nose. He did. He wanted you so badly that night. So much he cursed himself as he left the wagon you were in, lying defenseless and denied. “I’m sorry I gave you that impression,” he spoke with an underlying tone of bitterness.

You took in a shaky breath next to him. He wondered if you were on the verge of tears. “Gave you that impression,” you echoed, “sure.” You sounded defeated.

Osferth turned on his side and grabbed your shoulder, pulling you gently to rest on your back. You looked over at him through the plushness of your pillow and side of your eye. His fingers lingered on the shoulder of your shirt, gently rubbing the tips in a confined space he had drawn on your body, daring not to move further but also not having the restraint to pull his touch from you.

“I struggle still with the set of morals which I was raised on.” His voice was a whisper, daring not to raise in fear that God would hear. “I know I’m a sinner - in many ways. For that, I repent daily.” His fingers stopped, he was lost in thought, you could tell from the distance look in his eyes. A silent second passed before he focused again, “But I cannot, in good grace, bring others into a life of sin.”

You shook your head, “You didn’t just refused me Osferth, you made me feel like a common whore.” You stared into his eyes, seeing odd regret. “And if I ask to commit atrocities against God with you, it’s my choice, not yours. My choice on my own path of damnation.”

Osferth blinked away your blasphemy, choosing to pretend he had not heard it. “I cannot take your innocence. I won’t be a part of a sin of that nature.”

You scoffed, “But you can fuck desperate women who had to turn to a life of whoring to escape starving.” You rolled to your side, your back to Osferth again. You’d had enough of his stupid excuses.

You both lied in silence so long you thought he had went to sleep. “Not all of them.”

“What?” You turned around angrily, thinking he should have been to sleep. Propping yourself on an elbow, you looked down at him and he looked up to you.

“You made a broad assumption about brothel maids and you’re wrong.” His eyes were soft.

You narrowed yours. “Oh so you get to know them too? Tell me, do you have a favorite?” You mocked him with a fury.

Osferth chucked, “It’s hard not to get to know them when you’re-“

You held up a hand in disgust, “I don’t need to know what you do to them.”

Osferth raised on an elbow and mirrored you in challenge, his own eyes narrowing. “I thought you would want to know what I do with them since you’ve been begging me to bed you.”

His words shocked you beyond comprehension and when you regained your composure, you slapped him across the face.

Osferth reached up and rubbed his face, looking at you darkly.

“I wasn’t begging, I was simply reciprocating what I believed were shared feelings. It’s clear I was wrong, I’ll admit.”

Osferth grabbed your free hand and pulled you flush against him, now lying on his back. You were sprawled atop his body, lying your full weight on it. You felt a hard, strange length against your stomach. Once you escaped your state of shock of his bold actions you raised yourself up on your arms and looked to him below you with bewilderment.

“What has gotten in to you?” You exclaimed a little too loud.

Osferth breathed out a needy sigh and pushed you flush against him with a strong hand on your back. “I just want you to know, the feelings are reciprocated. I pray every morning and night, sometimes even when you were in the wagon behind me, for God to end my lust for you would come to an abrupt end.” He reached up and brushed your long hair behind your shoulders. You felt the hard length against your stomach again and realized finally what it was when Osferth bucked ever so slightly into your weight above him. “As He often does, God denied me.” Osferth leaned up to kiss you. Eyes closing, lips pursing and you pulled away, off of him.

He looked confused at your sudden denial. “No, you’re not allowed to decide you suddenly want my body because your piety failed you,” you practically spat. You stood from the bed, looking down to Osferth who was more confused than hurt. “If you want me, you’re going to have to earn me again. You’ve been nothing but a pious prick since that night in the wagon.”

You grabbed the feather pillow from your side and all the covers from the bed, making a place to sleep on the floor. “Enjoy the bed.”

Taglist: @godrakin @tssf-imagines @brianochka @victoriagaunt @fan-goddess @sarahkimtae

*Bold means I cannot tag you!*

Also, here is my horse that is written into this chapter! I couldn’t help myself honestly, I just had to.

Her name is Hooker!

#fanfic #the last kingdom #the lost children #osferth smut #osferth fluff #osferth x reader #osferth #Finan #sihtric #uhtred #eadith

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artficlly · 9 months

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lady of the ghosts [chapter 8]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: FLUFF, sexual tension, some angst, mention of sex work, mention of war, mention of funeral, tiny amount of anxiety/doubt, swearing, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 3.5

A/N: i wanted to make this a smaller chapter before shit hits the fan, very dialogue heavy and fluffy. please let me know what you think and reblog/like! sorry for any typos - enjoy!!

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

It was said that Neume once dwelled in the waters surrounding Faliene. As a guardian of the city, she waited beneath the waves. If she detected malice on the ships that entered her waters, she would rise from the ocean floor, her body hulking and blue with seaweed and barnacles entangled across her flesh. She would seize the ships with an iron grip, the wood splintering and cracking under the strain. She would drag the sailors to the bottom of the dark, sandy sea, where they would either drown or perish in her crushing grip.

She was a protector in more ways than one; her presence wasn’t only to instill fear in those who ventured into the Falienean waters but also to aid those who worshiped her. They claimed she would herd the fish towards the fishermen who sailed off the coast, easing the giant schools into the hand-woven nets. On quiet, empty nights, some claim you could hear her singing. Her hums were reminiscent of whales, eerie and lonesome as they reached across the vast, vacant waters. Her song would lull the creatures to sleep, and only then could she be at peace.

According to legend, Nemue's deep sleep, brought on by her own song, is what caused Faliene's misfortunes to start. As her children waited for her to return, disease and evil crept into her beloved city and slowly poisoned those who remained. Faliene held her breath, waiting in anticipation for the return of her song. The north had been stuck in a slumber for too long; it was time for her to come alive once more.

The breeze was stronger than usual up on the rocky cliff of The Fishhook. The slowly rising sun partially melted the snow and ice below, where the waves pounded mercilessly along the exposed coast.

James squinted his azure eyes against the whipping wind, his hair tousled, and his cheeks pink. The two of you had decided to hike up the southernmost point of Faliene’s coastline before it turned to mountain and sea. You had taken the daunting and winding path upward to the peak of The Fishook, a large curved outlook that had been creatively named due to its shape. Halfway up the path, Steve and Peggy had left you behind in favor of exploring a tiny, frozen cave. You knew it was so they would have a moment alone to continue their activities from the Pass; it was harder to do so with King Harrison’s ever-watching eye.

“Do you see it?” The winds hurtling along the coast have left your lungs burning, and words are nearly stolen as your breath is ripped from you.

“You might have to point it out to me.” James’ admits sheepishly, eyes darting as he surveys the blue, glacial waters below. You step closer to him, careful and slow on the icy rock below, as the two of you are close to the dangerous edge. If the plummet didn’t kill you, the freezing waves crashing against the rocks certainly would.

With a gloved hand, you point at a darker patch of water, where presumably the ocean floor is deeper than the rest of the bay. James ducks his head, his eyeline following along to where you point. Your gaze is on the side of his face, watching each emotion cross while studying every twitch of his eyebrow or jaw.

“It’s supposed to look like a woman curled up on her side.” You explain, watching as he tilts his head ever-so-slightly, as if trying to see from a different perspective. James had been insistent on his prior promise of falling in love with the ghost city. Unlike the other guests, who mainly remained in the warmth of Fort Faliene, drinking and laughing their days away, James required endless exploration.

Sometimes you wondered if it was somewhat of a ploy to get you alone, as even if Steve and Peggy came along as ‘escorts’, the two of you frequently found yourselves abandoned by the pair. Steve and Peggy had more interest in each other's mouths and bodies than the sights of Faliene, unlike James, who remained enraptured by every story and sight you showed him.

You had toured him through the docks, the city, and the surrounding areas. The people of Faliene watched on with knowing smiles; even Brannigan seemed chuffed by your apparent familiarity with the King of Galanta. From what you gathered, the Falieneans were secretly pleased and were growing to forgive you for your lack of engagement. Why pester you about marrying a lord when you were actively seducing a king?

“I see it.” James speaks up from beside you, his confused expression melting into a grin. “Her head is facing the east.”

Your eyes flickered over the now familiar planes of his face, watching as he rubbed the stumble across his jaw out of habit. A small smile plays across your face, words leaving you despite your attention being nowhere near the shape of Neume in the waters below. “I know it’s silly, that it’s just the shape of the seafloor, but Falienean’s have always said it looks like Neume sleeping on her side.”

“You know, everyone always talks about how superstitious the north is, but I think it’s simply that we Southerners are too boring.” He replies, his eyes abruptly cutting to yours. There is a small smirk across his features as he notices your stare, and you look away, cheeks pink, now not only because of the cold.

“I don’t think you’re boring.” You hum quietly, your words nearly stolen by the next gust of wind as you look to your feet.

“We definitely are.”

You sucked on your teeth for a moment, tilting your head so you could see him through your peripherals. A smile crosses your face as you realize he’s been watching you the entire time, gloved fingers reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. You finally pluck up the courage to look back at him. “Tell me a story about Galanta, then. I will be the judge of whether it is boring or not.”

James lets out a long sigh, looking upwards at the horizon in thought. “They are all stories of war and death, I’m surprised I didn’t die of boredom as a child having to listen to all those tales–”

“You know that I like history.” You cut him off, playfully pushing at his chest. Your cheeks warm up more, realizing that the hard muscle beneath doesn't give under your touch. James chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at you. “Tell me a story about when you were at war then. Maybe that will be more exciting because you were actually fighting–”

“People who tell their own tales are always bragging.” James grumbles with a hard look, which quickly softens as he catches your pleading look. He shakes his head with a sigh, humming as if in thought. His hands mindlessly come to your cloak, gloved fingers twisting through the fur trimming.

“During the war,” He begins. “Steve and I stumbled upon Prince Micheal in a whorehouse. He was so drunk on ale that he could barely see, let alone walk. The girls were sick of him, so we offered to take him back to camp. The trip was short-lived, though… We grew tired of dealing with him, so we left him passed out in a pig pen. He didn’t return to camp until the next day, it was lunch when he stormed in. He was all covered in filth. He didn’t remember a thing, but he knew Steve and I had something to do with it, we could hardly keep a straight face due to the stench.”

A laugh bubbles in your chest, and you shake your head at the brunet. Steve had often mentioned how he and James tormented the Prince when they could. Those were tales that Steve would whisper to you over dinner, while Michael bragged and boasted about exaggerated stories further down the table. Though this was not a story you had heard before, you quickly learned that Steve was not as open with you about his secrets as you first assumed – his and Peggy’s affair being just one example. You wondered how many tales from the war were lost to you due to Steve's reluctance to share. This story seemed to have a glaringly obvious reason why.

“You and Steve frequented whorehouses?” You ask innocently, and you hear James suck in a sharp breath, his head tilting to look away guiltily. A teasing smile plays across your lips as you lean closer to him. “The good King James and his knight Sir. Rogers getting their cocks wet? How scandalous.”

You could imagine the girls in the whorehouses would have loved to be visited by James and Steve – rich, handsome war heroes? They would’ve been snatched away before they even put their foot in the door. You didn’t have envy or malice for the whores, unlike some ladies of court who bickered about the ‘filthy harlots roaming the war fronts’. You imagined James and Steve would’ve been a welcome break from the usual soldiers who would’ve wondered their way.

Beside you, James swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, and he looks back at you with surprise in his guarded eyes. You wondered if he had ever heard you speak in such a vulgar way before — Steve definitely had, especially when he schemed and got you a few drinks in. His hands reach out, gripping your waist to tug you even closer to his body, and you oblige with a satisfied sigh.

“It’s just the way of things during war.” He says, his voice husky and low as he looks down at you. His words hesitate, his tongue wetting his lower lip as he scans your face. “You’re telling me you didn’t bed a knight or two during the war? While you were all alone in Haiford Castle?”

Your smirk spreads. “You think King Harrison would’ve let me stay if he had any inkling that I wasn’t a virgin?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You allow your eyes to roam over his face as you take your time answering his question. You note the way his pupils have dilated and the subtle strain in his jaw, as if silent worry was clawing behind his cool demeanor.

“No. I didn’t.” You reply honestly. “You really think I would invite one of your knights into my bed, or even worse, a Haifordian knight?”

James grins at that, as if secretly pleased by your answer. You could imagine he made assumptions about you, considering your affinity for finding trouble and irritating authority. Even if you often made it your mission to irritate Prince Michael or King Harrison, you had never fallen to the depths of sleeping around with men you despised.

“I must be good then if you’re willing to have me.” He replies, his voice still low and rumbling in his chest.

“And who said you were invited into my bed?” Your eyes flutter upwards as you look at him through your lashes, a coy smile forming in response to his smirk.

James hums, his hands squeezing tighter as he presses a soft, gentle kiss to one of your exposed collarbones. His grin is cheeky as he raises his head once more, his expression near ravenous as he watches your breath hitch slightly, goosebumps raising across your skin. Everything about his touch and scent is intoxicating, and you nearly forget you are standing on an exposed cliff as you lean heavily into his touch.

“I am going to speak with King Harrison tonight.”

“About what?” You manage to stutter out. Your mind is hazy and confused as you try to focus on something other than the pattern he is tracing across your ribcage with his thumb.

“Us. Peggy.” James begins, and you stiffen under his touch. “I am going to gift Steve land and make him a lord – maybe a duke or a count. Something high-ranking enough for him to marry Peggy.”

“I haven’t even agreed to marry you.” You say through narrowed eyes. “Don’t you think this is too early?”

James looks down at you with a frown. “Where else will you go now that the funeral is complete? You can’t return to Haiford… If we settle this issue with King Harrison, you could return to Galanta with me–”

“What if I want to stay here?” You interrupt, and James snaps his mouth shut.

There is a long pause between the two of you, with James sighing slowly through his nose as his grip around your waist eases, his fingers no longer tracing delicate circles.

“Well…” James begins hesitantly. “Once we are married, you will have to balance your time between Faliene and Galanta, as will I. If you cannot lead Faliene until our marriage, it would be wise that you return to Galanta until the ceremonies–”

“I want to be married in Faliene.” You interrupt once more.

“I thought you said you hadn’t agreed–” He starts with a grin, only for you to cut over him again with a huff.

“Hypothetically. If there were a hypothetical marriage between us, I would want it to be here–”

He is still grinning as he speaks, as if amused. His eyebrows arch as he speaks. “You do realize the Galantaians would riot, right? Robbing them of a wedding celebration–”

“I am only just winning back the trust of my people, they would be insulted if I snubbed them–”

“Well, it is tradition for the wife to be married in the husband's–”

The playful tone that had built through your exchange quickly snaps, and a scowl crosses your face as you take a step back from him. “Please don’t tell me you’re under the assumption that a husband should be the only one in charge simply because he is male–”

“No – Y/N. No.” James gasps, exasperated. His gloved hand raises up, cupping your cheeks as he looks down at you with a frown. “If we are married, Faliene would be run by you and only you. I will sign whatever papers you ask me to, and I will not interfere unless you ask my opinion.”

You blink at him slowly, exhaling sharply out of your nose as you lean into his touch despite the stubborn look across your face. A small part of you is anxious; you have been hesitant and cautious to trust all of your life. What if, like Rumlow, James was trying to fool you into marriage so he could control the seafaring of the continent?

“Are you telling the truth?” Your voice is quiet, nearly lost to the winds. Thankfully, James doesn’t seem insulted by your wariness.

“Of course I am. I know that if Faliene is to flourish, it can only be under your rule, not mine.” James hums, his thumb gently swiping over the skin of your cheek before he pulls away. “Maybe it is best we leave the talk of weddings until after I deal with King Harrison. Deal?”

He offers his hand in the small distance between the two of you. You chew on your lip for a moment, nodding your head as the apprehension in your gut eases. You reach out, grasping his forearm near his elbow. The muscle is bulging and swollen in comparison to your small hands. His fingers wrap around your own forearm, engulfing the clothed skin entirely as you both shake hands on this new agreement.

“Deal.” You mutter back, though you can’t fight back the smile that has formed.

There is a new feeling growing in your gut.

Hope.

—

“Does King James always fuck you with his eyes?” Wanda asked from behind you, her nimble hands expertly washing the soap from your hair. Your strands were lazily dangling over the side of the tub, the water trickling off into the bucket below. Your eyes rolled back into your head, a small huff leaving your lips as you leaned harder against the warm metal.

Once returning from The Fishhook with Steve and Peggy in tow, Wanda managed to sneak you back into your rooms before your presence was requested elsewhere. Tonight there would be one final feast before most of the guests returned home, and it seemed everyone wanted your attention or opinion on the most mundane of subjects. You had been practically assaulted with questions about dining displays and menus, while the Asgardian Princes, Thor and Loki, somehow managed to trick you into showing them the wine cellar.

As if sensing your rising stress levels, Wanda had pulled you away, declaring she needed to help you bathe and dress for the dinner to follow.

“You can act all coy, but we’ve all noticed it. Brannigan is biting at the bit to start organizing a wedding.” Wanda continues, and you groan loudly, slipping deeper into the warm water.

“Do not let him organize anything.” You grumble, and the woman chuckles behind you.

“When you said you knew the Galantian’s well, I didn’t realize it was because you had invited them into your bed–”

“He has not been in my bed.” You protest, sinking even further into the water until it reaches your chin.

“Ah. Matter of time. You can see it on his face that his cock gets hard everytime he looks at you–”

“Wanda.” You cut over her sternly, wrapping your arms across your chest as you turned in the tub to face her with a scowl. The water sloshes around you at your sudden movements, Wanda withdrawing as a small wave departs the tub. “I have already upset King Harrison enough, I can’t upset him more by having rumors spread around.”

“I am sorry.” Wanda sighs, elbows braced against her thighs, as she leans over to look at you. “I am just excited for you.”

You can’t help but let a small smile grace your lips at her words. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, there was always a sincerity and sweetness to Wanda that made you cave. You move forward through the water, your breasts pressed against the metal as you cross your arms over the lip of the tub.

“I am sorry for keeping secrets… It is just that to keep the peace between Haiford and Galanta, we have to be careful.” You mutter softly. Wanda gives you a sympathetic look, ringing out the damp cloth in her hands.

“King Harrison is still expecting Princess Peggy to marry King James?” She asks quietly, abandoning the cloth over the lip of the tub. You press your lips together tightly, watching as Wanda fetches you a dry towel.

“Unfortunately.” You grumble in return, standing. You allow most of the water to cascade off your skin and hair before wrapping yourself in the towel and carefully stepping out of the tub as Wanda readies your dress.

You quickly dry yourself before the cold sets in, scoffing as Wanda speaks up once more from across the room. “He must be blind if he has not seen the way Princess Peggy and Sir Rogers dance around each other.”

“I think I may have accidentally helped Peggy by distracting King Harrison.” You admit sheepishly.

Wanda snorts. “He seems to be looking everywhere but at Princess Peggy. Gods, he spends more time enamored with Lord Rumlow than–”

“What do you mean?” You cut over her abruptly.

Wanda arches a brow at you. “King Harrison and Lord Rumlow, they’re always constantly muttering away in the corner, haven’t you noticed?”

“I have.” You say it with a frown. At least you had noticed it more back in Galanta, but these past two weeks between the funeral, James, and organizing, you had barely had time to play spy. It was harder to notice the small things of court when you were now the center of attention rather than a ghost slinking around on the outside of conversation.

“Maybe King Harrison has grown bored of wives – Maeve says that the two of them remain locked up in King Harrison’s rooms most days and nights. She scarcely has time to clean!” Wanda says as she helps you pull on your dress, a thick, dark material with fur trimmings and silver beading around the waist.

“Does she know what they are doing in there?” You pry cautiously, tugging the sleeves in place and shooing Wanda away as you begin to lace the front.

“No. They always grow quiet when she knocks, and they send her away. The staff are making bets over what date they’ll announce their affair.”

You don’t reply, instead pondering over this newfound information. Wanda begins muttering about the hairstyle she will craft for you tonight. You are barely listening as you sink into the seat in front of your mother's old vanity. With any hope James’ and King Harrison’s chat goes well tonight, you felt a pit of dread growing in your stomach at the thought of what Rumlow might be scheming.

taglist | @liter4ti @just-someone11 @champagnejoker @scooobies @queerqueenlynn @fanfictionjunkie1112 @themotherof10 @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @riffstorm

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes series #james bucky barnes #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel #royalty au #medieval au #fantasy au #lady of the ghosts

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vickylamore · 1 year

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On The Horizon / KHJ

words were given by @marievllr-abg : sea, pirate, hongjoong, domestic, happy, calm, moon

(if confused, see post rebloged about me waiting to write blurbs with words suggested. suggestions are still open!)

———

The ship swayed lightly on the waves, the soft yet cold winds blew across your face as you gazed at the stars. The North Star was in the sky tonight, hiding behind the misty clouds but was as bright as the moon. The star that was used as a natural compass guided those who were lost or needed a clear path to where they were going. You used to get so nauseous gazing upon the waves, looking across the sea while on the ship, but after months of traveling, discovering the world, and meeting new people, it became something like a routine, a part of your very busy schedule.

Leaning on the balcony rails, your breath synced with the soft sways. You wondered if the others were asleep— it was a long, long day today for which they should be resting every second that they could.

Something soft, like a jacket— which it was, was draped on your shoulders. The familiar scent of wood and fire cologne ironically overshadowed the scent of the ocean. It was dark and yet, you still saw the way his eyes looked at you.

"Its cold," he whispered, shuffling closer to you, "you'll get sick if you aren't warm."

"I'm feeling better already," you smiled, still looking in front of you. Hongjoong’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. "You okay?"

He hummed, "are you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm okay." Wind blew across your faces once more. "If you're okay, I'm okay."

You moved towards him again, as close as you could. He was warm despite the chilly winds. His hair was as dark as the sky around you, as dark as the water below yet you saw every strand of hair skim his forehead and how he would sigh while pushing them back. You smiled, your lips tugging forward despite staying in a thin line since this afternoon.

You couldn't help but stare at the man in front of you. In those eyes— in his eyes held so much emotion, had seen so many things and experienced countless hardships, and yet, here he is despite traveling the seven seas with his crew for years and meeting you along the way. The North Star in the sky glimmered in his pupils, shining bright, and all along, despite the one in the sky, you had your personal North Star to guide you through your journey.

Hongjoong gazed down towards you, "what is it?"

"Nothing," you shook your head, burying it in the crook of his neck. "Nothing at all, my love."

#vickylamore #vickywritings #ateez #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong blurbs

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the-au-collector · 2 months

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I feel like I haven’t rambled about one of my AUs in a while (compared to how much I’ve reblogged stuff, that is)

So uh

Linked Universe College Radio AU: The Map

This is not to scale. It’s just a vague idea of where everything is located. Rambling about each of the places is below the cut.

Kakariko - the main location of the series, where Kakariko Univeristy is located. It's a small-ish city and located at the junction of two highways, so everything else sort of circles it. A lot of people will pass through the city, but few stay. Lots of college students during the school year. A few notable locations outside the university itself are the old mill that everyone says is haunted, Lake Sheik, Goron City Coffee, and Hilltop Orchard.

Hateno - located about 2 hours north of Kakariko, Hateno is a farming town. Not too big, but it does have a famous apple festival every fall. Wild and Age were born here.

Mido - Hyrule's hometown, has a single stop light, a school, a church, a cemetery, and a single diner called Cotera's, which is owned by Cotera and her sisters. It's 3 hours away from Kakariko.

Sky City - far enough away from Kakariko that it's probably better to fly, but you can theoretically drive there (it's like 5 hours away max.) It's located in the mountains and is quite the sight. Sky, Groose, Sun, First, and Hylia are all from here.

Rito Village - a suburb of Sky City, where Age and Wild moved to when they were taken in by Saki and Teba.

Ordon - far enough away that a flight is required to get to there. Twilight was born and raised there. It's south of Kakariko and is mostly farmland.

Castle City - about 2 hours west of Kakariko. The main airport is there, and so is Castle City University. It's a bustling metropolis. Flora and Fauna are from there.

Mabe City - a large city on the coast. It has it's own college, the University of Mabe City. It's a very picturesque city that's about a 4 - 5 hour drive from Kakariko. A lot of students like to visit there in the summer. Legend originally went to school here. His father, Raven, also lives in the city.

Outset - a suburb of Mabe City. It's rather small, but very homely. It's main industry is fishing. Wind is from here and is very, very proud of it. Legends say pirates used to inhabit the shores around Outset.

#Linked Universe #college radio au #Just places #but I do have mentioned #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu sky #lu wild #lu age #lu wind

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magnoliabutters · 11 months

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• FEELING EVERYTHING •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: so what kas saved your life?! it’s not like you owe him everything…

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; canon divergence, enemies to lovers trope, season 4 spoilers, previous parts mentioned; sexy angst, slight suicidal ideation, manipulation, child abuse (previous trauma mentioned), toxic ass kas, sexual advances tied with a misunderstanding, hot and cold dynamics, dwugs, depression, grief, anxiety (panic), y/n count: 3, etc.

word count: ~8.9k

reblogs, comments, & thoughts are appreciated 🦇

• stories of eddie munson series • season two • previous part •

note: as always, thank you for the patience! we're almost coming to a close y'all! in this part, i tried to challenge myself to focus more on describing the visuals and the scene. let me know your thoughts! i cannot wait to read your reactions!

note to the note: my partner, who was so kind to beta-read, found an inconsistency around the border of vecna’s “new world.” you may or may not catch it. i just wanna share i am aware, and i am upset haha unfortunately caught it too late 🥲

The dried grass is rough against your shins. A sea of plains ahead that curl into waves with each blow of the wind. The orange streaked sky, a beautiful sight, now a daunting reminder to find shelter before the night. You wish you could have been here any other time. The gorgeous way the sunlight trickles onto the glossy leaves of the trees. The way the sun feels against your skin. The air just cold enough that the warmth of its rays feel nostalgic.

Eddie would have loved this. The opportunity to find civilization, as though it was some challenging quest. He would have compared it to some battle his Dungeons and Dragons character led the party into. His arms stretched out as he passionately tells the tale of how they won the fight with only a sliver of a chance. A heroic and miraculous story that only he could tell correctly.

He always told stories in a way that made you feel as though you were actually there, feeling each and every emotion. All the ups and downs. He had you clinging to the edge of your seat, clinging onto every word no matter the topic. Your heart warms at the thought of that beautiful mouth speaking a million words a second as he excitedly shares a story. God, how you wish you could see him again.

The uncomfortable scratching of the heavy grass continues to remind you that an oversized t-shirt and panties is not the ideal hiking gear. Not that you exactly had a choice. You struggle to step through the field, stumbling along with your arms held out wide for balance.

“You look like a bird,” Kas scoffs as his thick leather boots crunch against the yellow waves of the pasture. His bare chest still littered with pink scratches. He carelessly plows through the tall grass. Your eyes instinctually roll, leaving another muffled chuckle to drop from his lips. Your hands gradually fall to your side as embarrassment seeps into your pores.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” he mutters as he swats away a horse fly. Your annoyance levels have been seriously dampened with the recent events. Kas’ constant “are we there yet” attitude is not helping in the slightest. “I figure if we keep heading north, we’ll get to the highway and,” you bite your lip, tensing your brow as you point over the vast hill. “Um, we’ll just hitchhike.” You shrug, looking back at him with a weakly confident expression. His face deadpanned as he stares back at you with lack lustered eyes.

“Hitchhike?” Kas asks with a monotone. “Yeah,” you grumble in hesitancy. “Doesn’t everyone in a fifty mile radius of Hawkins think I am some satanic serial killer?” he inquires with the side of his lip pulled as he stares at you in judgment. Your eyes fall as you realize your mistake. “Well, um, let’s just find the highway first and figure out what to do from there,” you utter as you push through another bundle of grass. “Okay,” he says in a sing-songy voice as he walks off in front of you.

This is your life now. You try your best not to compare between the two - knowing that would cause you nothing but pain, but it’s hard. It’s so hard to know what you had and what you have lost, and what you have now. A small part of you wishes you had nothing at all.

With great love, comes great vulnerability and despair. You find yourself wondering if it was worth it. If loving Eddie was worth the pain of losing him. Of having his complete opposite inhabit his body and parade the fact that he is no longer the love of your life. In fact, he punishes you for thinking that, as if you could resist the urge. The agony you feel, both physical and emotional, almost pushes you off the edge. The question of “is it worth it?” echoes through your mind.

Kas looks ahead of the pairing. He notes a break in the clear pasture and sees a tree line. His eyes discern its distance, noting that it is a rather thin tree line. Suddenly, he sees motion rushing by behind the trunks. The only vehicles he is used to were filled with and destroyed by Vecna’s blackened veins, but he still identifies the motion as cars. Excitement fills his chest as he hurriedly turns around with a finger pointing at the tree line.

But when he turns, his smile disappears. He watches as your eyes are glued to the ground. Your face is solemn. The edges of your beautiful lips turned downward as your hair covers your face. The excitement immediately shifts to worry as he takes a step towards you. His hand slowly moves to your gaze, interrupting your thoughts.

As your head innocently raises towards him, Kas shoots you a comforting smile. His hands, both naturally and hesitantly, flow to the sides of your arms. You decide to shoot him a weak grin as you appreciate what he is trying so hard to do. And with that, Kas pulls you in - deeply pressured against his chest as his arms wrap around your upper back.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers against your ear. His chin finding a place upon the top of your shoulder. Such a familiar feeling, Eddie’s embrace, and yet you have another reminder of his lost presence. You want him so badly. You wish he could be here. That his true self was holding you, comforting you. Your hands fall upon the base of his spine, pulling him tightly into you. Abruptly, the sobs fall from your lips as you push yourself deeper against the warmth of his skin.

Kas knows you are hurting - who wouldn’t be after what you have been through? The thing is he wasn’t sure exactly how much pain filled your saddened soul, but once he heard those sobs - he knew. It is gut wrenching to feel your body heave against his. The pain is so much worse than the sensation of your nails digging against his skin. His hands smooth out your back as he attempts to comfort your contorting body.

Finally, you feel it. You feel everything you have pushed deep within yourself since you heard of Eddie’s passing. The pain. The anguish. The betrayal. The threat of death. The fear of death - an actual impending death - no longer one in the far off future. You lost the love of your life.

Eddie is dead.

And your heart has felt empty since your realization of this. Your knees give out and both you and Kas fall to the floor. Kneeling beside each other and still stuck in a beautiful embrace.

As tears stream down your face, Kas pulls away slightly to look at you. His brows push together as his thumb traces against your cheeks. “Sh, sh, sh,” he whispers as one of his hands caresses the back of your head. He pulls you gently and closer to his chest. His chin now resting against your hairline.

Abruptly, you pull away, sniffling as you do. You are confident you look a hot mess but you don’t care, not even a little. You wipe your nose as your eyes darken before him. He stares at you in confusion and worry. His body aching for your touch.

“You said you saved me,” you start slowly, attempting to push down the sobs that climb your throat. “That you would have never killed me.” Kas nods with curiosity as your eyes raise to his. “I-I want to talk about something and I don’t want to hear shit about it,” you spit out harshly. However, your expression immediately returns to the vulnerable girl that Kas has grown to love. It leaves a hint of a smile on his face.

“What would you like to talk about?” he asks softly. With a deep sigh, you mumble, “I want to talk about Eddie.” Kas winces at the name, something you immediately notice. Another physical pain shoots through your chest as you prepare your body for his rejection. He takes a deep breath, placing his palms to his knees as he slowly nods with eyes to the ground beneath you both.

“Go ahead,” he whispers. Your heart fills with joy, enough to completely disregard his body language. Soft sobs follow your laughter. Your hand pushes the tears away from your cheeks as he slowly raises his head. “He was beautiful,” you choke out whimpers with an ambiguous smile to your face. “He is easily the best person I have ever met,” you laugh out weakly.

A small, tight smile forms on Kas’ face as his hand slides behind your head once again. He pulls you into the side of his neck. His other hand collapsing around your crying body. “At first, I had no idea how he could be so confident and silly,” a smile emerges on your face as he wipes another round of tears from your cheeks.

“Do you remember any of his rants in the cafeteria?” you ask excitedly. Your inexperience with vulnerability attempting to make the conversation less one-sided. The smile on his face slowly grows as a low hum of a chuckle riffles in his throat. He slowly nods as his grip tightens at your waist. "I remember one distinctly about how the cafeteria stopped giving out corn on the cob," he answers.

In the midst of a laugh, you pull back to look at his face. “What else do you remember?” you ask, placing a hand to his chest. Tears now well in your eyes, as opposed to flowing down your cheeks. Kas takes a deep breath, following the press of his tongue against the back of his front teeth.

The silence flattens your grin. You lean backwards to pull your thighs and legs from his knees. The tightness and excitement in his chest persists as Kas remembers how his words impact you. How your smile grows any time he shares a memory. How his heart flutters at the sound of your giggle.

He winces, disgusted with the warm, cuddley shit that Eddie’s more accustomed to. And yet, here he is - desperate to put a smile on your incredible face. A part of him wonders if you were manipulating him. Show him a grin and he is a puddle between your thighs. He hates the hold you have over him. How your happiness makes his undead heart beat.

Kas wonders if he will ever have autonomy, or if he will continue to be a slave for others as long as his mystical life will allow. His body craves for yours, pushing his mind to find a way back to caressing your soft skin. He sorts through the hazy fog and recollected memories.

With a huff, he shares, “I remember the day you made Mac n Cheese.” He lightly taps his fingers against his thighs as he adjusts to sit cross legged. His eyes were down, but he could see you beaming off-center of his gaze.

“We were with, um,” he hesitates as he looks up. His hands quickly move around, gesturing as he speaks. “Wayne,” the name pops out eagerly from your sweet lips. An encouraging nod to follow. “Wayne, yeah,” Kas agrees slowly, pretending as though he did not know exactly who his uncle, Wayne Edward Munson, was.

“He liked you,” Kas says, lifting his brow as a smirk appears on his cheek. You laugh to yourself, feeling a warmth in your chest. “You know, Eddie - I mean - he told me that but I still wasn’t sure,” you end with a chuckle. His eyes lift to yours - those button eyes comparable to your childhood teddy bear. They always left happiness ringing through your body.

He shakes his head. “No, darlin’,” he starts. “There’s no world where you wouldn’t be on anyone’s good side.” With a slight chuckle, he adds, “Hell, I kept pushing you away and I couldn’t stay hating you.” You bite your lip, trying to hide the largest smile since you last kissed Eddie. “I am pretty loveable, aren’t I?” you ask sheepishly. With his tongue stuck to his canine, he lets out a deep sigh paired with a smile. “Yeah,” he says slyly and with a shrug. “I guess that’s true.”

Your eyes flow towards the sky, noting the bright stars twinkling above. The joy you feel is addicting. Something incomparable to the last few days. You dare not disturb it. And yet...

“There was something about your family,” Kas starts with a furrowed brow. A memory floods his brain, something he did not account for. “It was complicated. You had so many locks, to be safe - to feel safe.” Your smile dropped, but he had not noticed. His eyes pull straight, narrowing as he attempts to grab hold of this memory.

“They hurt you,” Kas lets out as a sigh, as though the realization was just then. “Why didn’t he do anything about it?” he asks in an accusatory tone. His nostrils flare as his chest rises and his back straightens. He places his sights on you. Your hands push together, sliding between your thighs. Eyes resting upon them as the sadness sinks in your heart.

“Eddie, you just don’t understand,” you say as you harshly push the tear from your cheek. “No, baby, I understand completely. What do you think my dad did to me before Wayne ran him off?” Eddie whisper yells as he points up the stairs. “They can’t keep doing this to you!” The fire fueling in his stomach is the same firing his clenched fists. How dare they hurt you? How dare anyone lay a finger on you?

“Please, Eddie, please just stop,” you mumble in between cries. Your hand pulling at his arm, creating distance between him and the stairs. Eddie could see your eyes were fixated on your bedroom door. “No, y/n,” he says abruptly. His stance fixed and firm. His eyes unrecognizable.

Eddie pulls his arm from your grasp, causing you to take a step back. But quickly, he grabs hold of your forearm. His fingers squeezing against your skin as he tugs you closer to him. His other hand lightly lands next to the assorted bruises you had up and down your arm. Gently, he raises your arm to show the purple splotches thrown against your ribs that were hidden by your shirt. He expected the surprise on your face, as he knew you thought he only saw the marks on your arm.

“Y/n, there is no way in hell that this is okay,” Eddie says through grinding teeth. Heavied breaths fall from his flared nostrils as he looks up at the stairway again. “Eddie,” you say weakly as tears run rampant down your face. “Please, you’re hurting me,” you share as you lightly push at his hardened grip.

Eddie quickly turns around with horror on his face as his eyes are met with the dark pink imprints of his fingers upon your skin. He stumbles back with his hand placed against his chest. “I-I I’m sorry,” he starts as he backs into a support beam. A small cough exists between you two as he clears his throat. His eyes watering as his chin glues stuck against his chest.

“Baby,” you crumble before him. Your hand leading your body as it lands softly against his cheek. His hand collapsing over yours. Your other rests against his sternum. “Eddie, baby, you didn’t mean it...”

Kas snaps his eyes towards you. Abruptly, he pulls himself from the memory, having seen everything he needed to see. His brows push together as his upper lip slightly pulls. “He hit you?” he asks with shock thick in his intonation. A hand reaches out to your knee.

“Excuse me?” you pull away disgusted. You cannot help but stand and look down at him. “I just,” you chuckle in disbelief, giving up further with each breath you take. Your hands gesturing with a shrug. “I wanted to be happy, remember the times when life was actually good, for once.” A scoff falls, and you shake your head. “It’s like you want me to be in pain - to suffer along with you.” Eyes looking off into the night sky, desperate to go back to that happiness. But it does not come.

Kas pulls his hand away, landing it softly against his lap. A white hot flash spreading between his nostrils and eyes. He meant to make you happy, but he remembered something. He pursued it, like he figured you would want him to. But maybe not this memory. Are there bad memories between the lovebirds?

Like a switch, his anger kicks in. An undeniable defense mechanism that he will continue to deny. “And what pain am I in, darlin’?” he scoffs. Your eyes flick up, searching for some sign of dismay in his. You find absolutely none. “God, just never mind,” you throw your head as you continue forward, brushing the thought off to hide yourself from more pain.

“No, no, no, little lady,” Kas laughs as he grabs your forearm, pulling you backwards. “We’re still talking.” The whiplash of his grip twists your body into his. His other hand quickly falls at the base of your back as he pulls you onto him. “Let go of me, asshole,” you demand brutally as you push against him. He laughs as he lets you stumble back. An ache begins to ring in your wrist.

“You want to talk, Kas, fine,” you yell at him, pushing your palms harshly against his bare chest. His stumble back is met with another condescending chuckle. “Eddie never hurt me.” You can feel your entire face tensing up. Every muscle, even those you didn’t even know you had.

“Don’t forget, I was there,” Kas mocks, pointing a finger to his temple. “You weren’t there,” you spit out. “Those are Eddie’s.” He laughs, leaning over and holding his stomach. He takes a deep breath and in a combustion of sarcasm and genuineness, he softly says, “Eddie’s not here anymore.”

Now, it is your turn to scoff. “And you just love reminding me,” you say, shame-filled. He chuckles, his head swaying side to side as he settles into his suave stance. Confident, boisterous, annoying.

“You do understand though, right?” you ask with confidence. He adjusts immediately detecting that he now has a contender in front of him, as opposed to a weak girl. “Eddie never hurt me,” you say softly. “You, on the other hand, you’ve hurt me every second since I met you,” you end with a hiss.

Kas’ lips fall into a line. His eyes raking over your facial features, processing those sinful words. You watch, pleased with his response. You soak in the pain displayed exclusively on his face without regret. “What was that again?” you exaggerate thinking with a finger bouncing off your chin. “What pain are you in, darlin’? This kind,” you end with disgust as you point him up and down.

He continues to stare at you with widening eyes. His face blank now, as though all the blood drained from it. “Let’s just keep going,” you suggest. The moral compass in your head is wavering. You walk forward, noting his lack of movement.

“Do you remember anything else about that night?” Kas calls out blankly. You turn around to face him, expecting sarcasm but seeing absolutely nothing in those dark brown eyes. “I do,” you whisper.

“Will you tell me?” he asks with his head down as he takes a step towards you. A part of you hesitates, wondering if this is just another trick of his. But you wanted to reminisce on memories. Here is your chance. “Sure,” you say in a lackluster tone. He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“It was just another regular day. Eddie came over after DND, like usual,” you shake your head as you attempt to remember. “My dad was a dick that day so Eds had to meet me at the back door.” Your eyes close as you continue, “I snuck him in and we went to my room and we were just talking about our days on my bed eating pizza.” You smile. “When we were laying down, I guess my shirt rolled up and he saw the bruises from earlier that day."

You laugh aloud, quickly pinning your mouth closed and hiding a smile. “He is the most stubborn person I know,” you share, forgetting who you were sharing with. “He wouldn’t let it go. He needed to know where the bruises were from and to see more.”

You stop immediately when you feel hot at your tear ducts. You quickly decide to keep a memory of love between you and Eddie. Another smile emerging as you acknowledge the realization that that was the moment you knew, without a doubt, Eddie Munson loved you. That he was the only person who loved you enough to care about your safety.

“I fucking caved, as usual,” you giggle. “And when I showed him, he got pissed. I’ve never seen him more mad. I saw this fire in his eyes, I saw…” your brain stops working. Your brows crunch together as your eyes fall to the floor, processing the new information.

After some time, you look up to Kas, who has been watching you continually. “I saw you in-in his eyes,” you say in awe. Kas’ flattened lips slowly flicker into a smirk.

You knew Kas? You saw him in Eddie, and you did not run. He existed before Eddie died. You know it to be true. He was there, and he was loved … by you.

Quickly, you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the thought. You would not dare disrespect Eddie by comparing him in any way to Kas. “Uh, he wanted to beat up my dad for hurting me. I had to talk him down,” you say plainly. “He was feeling all those emotions so he-he just squeezed my arm,” you reenact the movement. “But when I told him to stop, it was like he realized he was hurting me and acted like he had control of it, like he should’ve known better.”

Your eyes fall on Kas’ once again. “He did not hurt me on purpose. He would never hurt me on purpose. And that is what you should remember,” you say clearly.

But Kas will not remember that distinction. He has better things to think about. “Just as long as you remember that you saw me that night,” he says with a chuckle. “God, you’re so damn good at making everything about you,” you throw out with a hand to your hip. “Oh yeah? 'Cause I thought it was all about you later that night?” he asks with bouncing brows. Your eyes darkened. “You remember,” you reply flatly.

“Yes, baby, I remember that night,” Kas smirks as he takes another step, like a lion stalking it's prey. “I remember when he laid you on the bed. How he traced his fingers up your leg,” he says softly as he attempts to do the same. You pull back in disgust, unsure of where this is coming from. He looks at you daringly.

“You liked it when he did it,” he huffs. “Well, what about when he kissed your neck.” He steps forward once more, hooking his arm around your waist and pressing your torso against his chest. Frankly, you were completely done with his manhandling. His lips fall upon your skin like unwanted tickles. Your elbow rests against his chest as you press your weight upon it. But this time, he did not pull away. He continues on.

“Oh, not that?” Kas asks amusingly, clearly not understanding the situation. His hands slowly trickle down your sides and to the front of your waist. “What about when he unbuttoned your pants-” “No, Kas!” you yell, pushing with all your force. He stumbles backwards with arms held out wide. His face both concerned and surprised. "No," you repeat sternly.

“I thought we were…” he trails off, slowly understanding exactly what he was doing. “No, Kas, we weren’t,” you say roughly. “Fuck, man! Why the hell would you even think that?” You push the hair from your face as you await his explanation. Kas’ held out hands slowly raise to a defensive position. “I-l I didn’t mean for any of that, we just, uh, we fight and then we,” he stutters. Wide, watering eyes. Stumbling his words as he continues to step back.

You could see him. Just like that night. Just like when he hurt you accidentally. His remorse. His horror of what he has done. You could see Eddie again.

“Thank you for backing off,” you whisper. You look up to Kas as he sucks his tongue against his gums, pushing tears back into his eyes. He hides his face form you’d “I’m sorry,” he says with a deep voice after a quick clearing of his throat. “Thank you,” you mutter. “Let’s just keep walking, okay?” you suggest, pushing ahead. Kas solemnly follows behind you - at a distance.

It was stupid to stop and talk. The sun is completely gone. That road Kas thought he saw? Yeah, that was a river. A river you both had to strategically hop stones to cross. A river you fell ass first in when you slipped on a mossy stone. His bustling laughter echoing in the emptied space, and yet you trek forward.

An odd gesture but Kas offers you his black boots. The first six times you refused, but once your feet started bleeding you decided why the hell not. They were two sizes too big and clunky things. You don’t even think Eddie would wear these, not outside of his room. But Kas? He does not have a single care in the world.

You figured that after Vecna, normal things like dark forests would not bother you in the slightest. You were wrong. You could hear him in any brush of leaves from the wind. You could feel him when you step on unexpected rocks, attempting to navigate through the tall grass. You could see him in the shadows by the tree trunks. You could smell him in the dry air.

A snap.

“What was that?” you whisper quickly. Your arms are held defensively in front of your chest as though you are ready for something to jump out. Kas looks back at you and immediately rolls his eyes. “I stepped on a branch,” he laughs. You cannot fully trust your eyes, but you swear you saw adoration in his smile as opposed to the usual condescending attitude.

You shake off the jitters, feeling prickles trace down your limbs and up your neck. “It’s cool, I’m, uh,” you say as something catches your eye on the ground. You let out a soft sigh of relief as your eyes return to his. “Yeah, I am a-okay,” you say more convincingly. You could almost convince yourself.

Kas bites his lip, studying you as you walk past him. “Are you afraid of the dark, little girl?” he whispers in your ear as ticklish fingers prance against the skin of your sides. “Kas, stop,” you stay sternly, swatting his hands away. “Seriously, though, what do you have to worry about with me here?” he scoffs amusingly. A smile growing on his face by the second as he catches up and walks beside you.

“Hm, I don’t know. Maybe that flayed piece of jerky back there?” you say pointing behind you as you roll your eyes. “We’re outside of where he can reach, there’s no way he could get us,” he tries to soothe with a smile, but immediately recognizes the thin line growing between your brows.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kas whispers as he gently holds your wrist. He stops you in your tracks. You suck your tongue against your teeth as you avoid eye contact at all costs. “Hey,” he repeats in a deeper tone. His hands now cupped to your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Vecna cannot get us here,” he says clearly. “No one will hurt you as long as I am around.”

You cannot help but search for Eddie in those eyes. Just to see him one more time, but you know that will never be enough. Kas will never be enough. But his words help and you are able to take a deep breath.

You nod, and he slowly drops his hands from your face. “Thank you,” you murmur. The word is now way too common in both of your vernaculars. Kas walks off with a smile, not turning back to look at you, not even once.

Staring at the glow of the moon, you would guess it had to be at least 4 or 5am. Not that you would even really know what to do with that information gathered from this view. All you know is that you are getting tired, and the night sky is changing from pure darkness to a deep gray.

“Ok, I know last time I was wrong, but I’m pretty sure that’s an intersection,” Kas mumbles as he points forward. Your head snaps, following his gaze, with widening eyes. Your palm lands softly at your forehead as you quietly scoff in disbelief. Do your eyes deceive you? A honk of an 18-wheeler confirms your wish. You turn around with hands up in excitement. He chuckles at how big your eyes have gotten. A hand covering his growing smile.

“That’s a car, Kas, that’s a fucking car!” you scream. You rush through the trees, trying your best not to slide atop of the wet leaves. Alas, you ram your torso against the trunk of a tree in excitement as you watch the scene unfold before you. The pain is unnoticeable.

The street lights illuminate like auras against the misty fog. The wafting smell of cigarettes fleeing the convenience store. The blinding shine of headlights wrapping around the corner every few seconds. Honking, dings, spitting, ringing, a musty old muffler - finally, people.

Not once would you have ever expected the joy of finding people again, and yet here you are. You just needed a fresh look at how shitty the alternative is to know that reality is at least 1% shittier. Hope fills your chest as you take a step forward, only for Kas to pull you back.

“What?” you bark at him, pulling your arm away. “Take a good look at yourself, darlin’. You really want to walk up to that gas station like that?” Kas says with a point as he nonchalantly leans back on a tree behind him. You look down at yourself, remembering your lack of pants, Kas’ ratty shirt and his stocky boots. You take a deep breath as you softly say, “I guess you’re right.”

He stands up, almost immediately, which draws your attention. A smirk growing on his face. “What did you say?” he asks with a leading tone. You roll your eyes recognizing his intention. “Must not have been important if you didn’t hear it the first time,” you murmur with a grin.

Kas slowly walks towards you, making your grin beam more and more with each step. “Oh, I heard it,” he says softly as he leans in closer to you. “I just wanted to hear it again,” he whispers and pulls back. You push against his chest with a laugh, leaving him with a chuckle and a raised chin as he peers down at you.

“Okay, Kas, if we can’t go down there, where are we going to go?” you ask sarcastically. Kas smiles, moving his head to its side. “Oh, sweet girl. I know exactly where we’re going,” he murmurs. Your face deadpans as you watch him confidently strut down the hill and next to the street. “Wait, what do you mean?” you call after him. Rushing to follow him, you slip but Kas was able to hook his arm around you before you landed against the dirt and dust. He relinquishes his hand, faster than you expected and it leaves you confused.

“You see that street? Hudson Ave?” he asks, pointing up at the street sign. You watch him with a perplexed expression, unsure of where he was going with the conversation. “Yeah?” you answer confusingly. “I know Hudson Ave,” he shares, looking back down at you. “We’re by Lover’s Lake.”

You take a deep breath of disappointment as you wipe your palms against your face. “I thought we were closer to the school than that,” you sigh. That would mean at least another 5 to 10 miles before being able to collapse into a bed. “Sounds like we need a place to stay for the night,” he says with excitement, as though he already knew the answer. “Yeah?” you ask again with squinting eyes.

“I know a place. It’s safe, closed off, no one’s gonna be there,” Kas adds with a bit lip and slow nodding. Your face is emotionless as you watch his encouraging eyes. “How far is it?” you ask.

“Kas, you didn’t tell me we were breaking into the place!” you ask with a worried, hushed tone. Your back stands behind Kas’, covering him as he hunches over to pick the front door’s lock. Your eyes scanning for any sign of life as the sun begins to rise over the patch of forest.

Arms are crossed against your chest, attempting to gather as much warmth as possible. “Yeah, I don’t tell you a lot of things,” Kas whispers to himself. A tongue stuck between his lips with pressed brows as he focuses on the clicks within the lock. “Almost there,” he leads.

One click and his smirk grows to an unbearable size. He turns to you with the utmost confidence. You pull your eyes away in an attempt to avoid looking at his sweetness. “Okay, we get it. You’re a badass,” you mumble, quickly moving into a whine. “Common, it’s cold out here!”

Kas chuckles to himself, almost a hum that vibrates within his chest. You could feel it too, in your own, that leaves a spark of something familiar. You push it away, deep within your stomach, refusing to acknowledge it.

“Alright, alright,” Kas brushes off. “I’m hurrying.” With a twist and a push, you were in. The room was dusty. The air was stagnant. Your face showed everything, all your thoughts on the place. Completely disgusted by the state of the place. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself.

“It’s, uh, it’s cozy,” you whisper as you take a sharp breath. Half drunken beer bottles are left piled in the sink. A bra of unknown origin rests strung against the top of the couch. A rug, if you were so kind, rests tattered and torn throughout the room. A spindle of its fabric lays beneath your foot.

The only pristine thing in the place is a glass cabinet filled with different variations of bongs. As much as you would like to deny it, the sparkles catch your eye. A brown glassed stem filled with peace signs - you imagine it to be at least 10 years old. Another looked like the yellow smiley face that has spread across the world in the past few years - you enjoy that one. One shaped like a dark blue toilet bowl - you are not too keen on that. Lastly, a pipe with a bowl painted like R2-D2 - that might have been your favorite.

Before you knew it, you were standing right before the glass. Admiring the collection. Kas walks behind you. A cool whisper against your neck, “Can you guess where we are?” You shudder at his breath, but a piece of you welcomed his proximity.

“A dealer,” you say matter-of-factly, as you turn to face him. “Rick’s, right?” You knew he wanted to throw you off guard. He pulls back and slowly nods as respect fills the room. Of course, a respect that did not last very long.

“Then you must’ve known that this is where he stayed,” Kas mumbles carelessly. He carefully and judgingly picks up an opened bag of Fritos with his thumb and index finger off of the coffee table. Nuggets of weed organized perfectly upon the surface. Crushed green resting within a silver grinder.

Eddie most definitely was here. You try your best not to let it show on your face, but you wondered if this is where he radioed you. Did he sleep on that disgusting ratty couch? Was that the last place he ever slept? You make your way into the kitchen, careful not to show your haste. Opened tin cans of corn stacked in a pyramid stare back at you. His last meal? A pot is barely balanced on the stove’s burner.

Despite the rush of emotion in your chest, you smile at the thought of him cooking. Eddie was always a mess in the kitchen. You are honestly surprised that he did not leave the gas on. Memories of burnt pancakes and hardened spaghetti fill your taste buds.

He may not have been the best chef, but he made up for it. There is nothing like watching him and that messy bun. Flour on his face as that familiar tongue sticks out while he’s focusing. An apron somehow already covered with syrup, even though there was yet to be any pancakes. His shirt cut off at the sleeves with strings of fabric comfortably against his biceps.

Watching him in that moment, you saw your future. A future filled with laughter and messes. Dancing in the kitchen. Finally, feeling safe - safe in his arms. Maybe he would even make you feel safe enough to give him a little one when you were both older. The world deserved another Munson, another Eddie.

But just like the rest of your dreams, this one will never come true. Another future ripped from your grasp. A happiness you had only a taste of and will never see again. And somehow, you are supposed to be okay with that - to keep moving on. Especially now that there’s some super villain dickwad that wants you dead.

There’s no time to stop and grieve, like you thought. Part of you wishes you could, but another is thankful. Truthfully, you are afraid of what your life would look like if you truly let yourself feel everything. Feel your loss. It would not be much of a life, not after you get your revenge.

Take one step at a time, you remind yourself. Vecna’s death is and should always be the highest priority. How do you kill him? How do you ensure that you are the final blow? What are his weaknesses?

“Darlin’,” Kas whispers. He has been watching you silently as you stand in the kitchen. His intention was to catch you off guard with the information of Eddie’s stay. And he did just that but yet, no enjoyment in the act. What typically brings him happiness, his fucking with you, is not hitting the spot anymore.

He now worries about you. He worries about you constantly. He hasn’t stopped since that night in the diner. If he is honest with himself, these feelings would track all the way back to the night he first saw you.

Kas lays a careful hand against your shoulder. Your head quickly turns to look at him. A shock coursing through your body. “Let’s get washed up,” he suggests softly. You nod, but a slow smile grows upon your face. His expression turns inquisitive as a chuckle leaves his throat. “Dibs on the shower,” you scream as you rush up the stairs. He watches you run and instinctually follows just as quickly behind you.

You both playfully bump into each other as you struggle up the narrow staircase. As you manage to get a two step advantage, Kas grabs onto your ankle. You lightly fall against the wood as he scoots past you. “Fucker!” you giggle as you run to catch up to him. Bouncing off the walls, you push against his shoulder. You gain the advantage as you burst through a door.

Immediately, you are horrified by the sight. A tossed around bedroom with bright orange carpet. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the mirrored ceiling, which then led you to the cheetah print sheets. Your lips part as your jaw hangs open.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as Kas finally catches up. A laughter erupts beside you, but you cannot pull your gaze away. “Oh yeah,” he jokes in your ear. “Reefer Rick’s got bangin’ taste.” You push him away from you with a sneer.

Beyond the disturbing clash in colors, you see a sliding door that leads to a balcony. The wood is of a greenish tint. Ivy covers its banisters. An old copper-rusted chair rests in the middle of the panels. A heavily used bong, tinted brown with tar, rests at its very edge.

But despite all that, the view is incredible. There is no denying it. A gray and purple fog resides just above the black water. You could actually see the sun’s rays refracting within its dense mist. Sights like these have always made you feel better. There is nothing like Mother Nature to make that debby downer within you disappear.

“Shower’s over here,” Kas says as he leans against the threshold bathroom’s threshold with crossed arms. You smile, turning around, and walking into the room. “Didn’t think you would actually respect a dibs,” you share. Thankfully, Reefer Rick seems to have better standards for cleanliness in the shower. You are pleased with its state. “Oh, I can’t mess with the dibs gods,” he scoffs incredulously.

After noting which knob is for hot water, you realize that Kas is still standing beside you. You turn around to him beginning to unbuckle his belt. “What are you doing?” you ask with a nervous giggle. He pops his head up from his hands. His mouth in a thin line.

“Um, getting ready for our shower,” he answers. “Our shower, huh?” you giggle. “Oh, what? I thought you liked taking showers with your men?” he says as he leans in to you. His hands drop his buckle as his belt rests open at his waist. You struggle not to draw your eyes to it.

You quickly recover and smile. “You remember a lot more than you’re letting on, Kas,” you say under your breath. “First of all, there are no men. Only Eddie, and you’re not him, right?” you ask with a leading tone. “So, I’m going to take this shower alone.” You point towards the shower curtain behind you with a smirk.

Kas smiles with a shrug. “I guess I’ll wait my turn,” he says lightly. “Great call,” you whisper. Almost retaliatory, he unbuttons his black jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly. Teeth digging into his bottom lip.

You try your best to keep your eyes on his, but you are clearly struggling and he knows it. He loves it. The smirk growing on his face by the second. A hint of blush to his cheeks. “I’ll just be out here, sweet girl,” he soothes. His own thumb pointing back into the bedroom as he slowly walks backwards.

An undeniable, unstoppable grin beams across your face as you close the door. Fuck. The thin wooden barrier gives you enough space to consider the wild things rushing through your mind. How you wish you could just pull those jeans down, get on your knees, and make him forget that Vecna never existed. How you wish you could have dragged him into the shower with you. How he could make you forget that your pain even existed with those hands of his.

You need to cool down. Quickly. Dragging your palms down your face, you walk towards the shower. You turn the knob for cold water, leaving a slight bit of heat to settle in. You slowly raise your arms, attempting to take your shirt off, but the pain hit you like a truck. You wince at the feeling. Immediately, you hear Kas knocking. “You alright?” he asks. You laugh, “Yeah, Kas, I’m good.”

It feels so damn good to take off that ratty shirt. To take off those panties. To take off his oversized combat boots. With a deep breath, you step into the shower. The rush of the freeze was shocking, yet comforting at the same time. The feel of the water splashing against your scalp and running down your temples, cheeks, and chin.

You reach for the soap and are immediately presented with a conundrum. You debate whether or not you should rub it against your skin. You wouldn’t imagine your body being any less dirty than Rick’s bar of soap, and yet, you hesitate. With a shake of your head, you rub the soap against your hands and then lather the suds upon your body.

Feeling the sensation against your skin, you cannot help letting in the trickling thoughts of Kas. The sensation of his hands on your body. His finger tips pressing against your aching muscles. Fixing all your pains. His palms exploring your waist, making their way up your torso and to your breasts. You think of Kas. You wanted Kas.

As you step back, your calf bumps into a bottle that clunks onto the bottom of the shower floor. The abrupt loud noise echoes through the air. A burst of adrenaline fills your chest as you startlingly fling yourself against the tiled wall. The scuffle of your movement is heard from outside the bathroom.

Deep breaths heave against your diaphragm as you slowly slide down to the base of the shower. Rushing cold water hits harshly against your skin. It causes your hair to glue thickly against your face. You can’t breathe. You can’t. You just can’t.

Kas knocks once again. “Darlin’,” he calls out but you don’t answer. You can’t. You were stuck. Stuck against the ground. You could not move. If you moved, you had no idea what would happen. You were safe, barely safe in that shower. Don’t leave that spot. You can’t. You won’t.

He slowly peeks open the door. “Y/n,” he calls out but you are silent. You hear him walk closer. You can see his shadow against the blue mildewed curtain out from your peripherals. He opens the shower curtain to see your arms wrapped around your knees. You were in a tight ball, as tight as you could manage, shuddering in the cold.

“Shit, baby,” Kas hushes. He quickly turns the knobs, adding more warmth to the water pouring against the crown of your head. Without thinking, he hops inside the shower and crouches behind you. His arms tightening around your shoulders. “You are safe,” he whispers. “You are safe.” The words falling naturally, almost scripted.

With the added pressure, you can feel your heart rate slowing. You naturally place your hand against his forearm as he tightens his squeeze. You have not felt this in some time. Your eyes close as slow breaths enter and exit your lungs. The silence is comforting. A reminder that nothing is actually happening. Reality is currently safe. You are safe in Kas’ arms. Your body can calm, can take in the cues of relaxation in this warm shower.

“I am safe,” you whisper as you lightly land your forehead against his forearm. “You are safe, darlin’,” he murmurs. His head laying against your shoulder. And there you both rest. You naked in his arms. Him drenched in his jeans behind you. A tightening embrace underneath a constant stream of warming water.

Dustin has never been the same since that night. He knows his friends are worried about him. That they freak every time he disappears for an hour or two. But they wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t understand why he needed to visit him. How he would talk to him, even though he wasn’t there.

He couldn’t even manage to radio Susie back anymore. It didn’t feel right to be happy with Eddie gone. He avoided it, avoided happiness like the plague. He avoided his friends, his family, his mother. He grieves in solitude, unsure of when he will ever be done.

Every day since, Dustin made the trek to Lover’s Lake. To that spot in the woods where Steve, Nance, Robin, and Eddie went to Watergate. It is the closest he can get to Eddie. To remembering him. To wishing he was still there.

After a few trips back and forth, Dustin could make his way there without the compass - not that the compass was that helpful anyway. He would bring his backpack filled with old DND books, some of which were filled with “Munson’s Property” in thick sharpie. Sometimes he would run his fingers over them, hoping that Eddie was there too.

He would talk about the campaigns he wished he could play with Eddie. The one’s he knew the party would have a great time with. He would reminisce about when Eddie said he was “grooming him - grooming him to become Hellfire’s president. To be the Dungeon master. To be him.

That is all he could ever want. Well, that and Eddie being alive.

Another day and Dustin still sits upon his stump beside the lake’s shore. Seventeen rocks still scattered across the dirtied sand. He counts them here and there, ensuring they remain the same number. That everything remains untouched, like that day. But the fog was thicker today.

He could see the purple flecks within the gray mist. He appreciated when it was foggy. It meant he didnt have to think about the gang getting attacked in the middle of the lake. It meant he didn’t have to remember watching his friends and being helpless as they all dove into the dangerous waters. How he watched two of his heroes go in the abyss and never come out.

Sometimes Dustin wonders if he will see the canoe floating out on the water abandoned one day. Or maybe he’ll find it on the shore somewhere. Maybe there’s something on it? A piece of Eddie, something he left behind. He wanted to venture out but felt glued to this stump. Glued to looking out into the water and hoping Eddie might just come out from the fog.

Or maybe something will come out and take him. Take him far away from all this pain. Dustin was at his lowest, and yet he could only imagine going lower. Permanent reds to his eyes as tears continue to fall. It is his new norm. A new world without his big brother, without the person he looked up to the most.

Dustin heard a branch snap behind him. He turns, hoping it’s not Mike or Lucas trying to drag him back to the Wheeler’s, to his mom. He is surprised by the emptiness of the woods. How it reflects how he feels inside. He assumes the noise to be due to an animal. A sigh and he’s turned back around to the lake.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of something odd. His head turns to the structure to his left - Reefer Rick’s. “What a shithole,” he mumbles to himself. He places his elbows to his knees as his palms carry the weight of his chin. A light turns on, clear and bright within the fog. Enough to pull his attention back to the building.

Dustin stands with furrowed brows and a need to investigate. Cops were his first thought. Maybe they were still looking for Eddie, or maybe Rick broke out of the jail? Rick did have a tendency to do that. Although, they would always catch him seeing as he would just go home to smoke more dope.

He walks up closer, trying to get a better look, and catches a glimpse of something on the balcony. Another side step and he tries to look past the tops of the trees. There were no beams of flashlights bouncing around the windows. Maybe it wasn’t a raid. Maybe it was more of Jason’s lackeys? Still looking for Eddie, and yet - they’ll never find him. Or maybe they’re looking for Jason? They won’t find him either.

But who Dustin saw walking out the balcony made his blood instantly run cold. He was frozen, stuck in place, with a jaw dropped and shaking hands. The person is pale with black, wet, stringy hair resting at his shoulders. A familiar stance and posture that Dustin knew all too well.

Large, healed wounds wrapping from his lower back, across his side ribs, and a bit of his front. A familiar spider tattooed across his chest. The figure had a white towel wrapped around his waist. He is looking out - looking out into the lake. Just as Dustin was.

His heart starts pounding. In an unrecognizable world he now finds himself in, he finally sees the one he has missed so dearly. “Eddie,” falls from his lips like a whisper. As though it was a secret that was never meant to be spoken. A secret that only Dustin knows. The hope that he might be back, that maybe he never left.

Before his mind could register, Dustin’s feet were already running around the battered house, faster than he thought possible. His bag and compass left hastily by the shore. He stumbles trying to find his footing against the worn wooden steps as his fist crashes against the front door. All the excitement pumping through his body as he hears steps grow louder behind the door.

It opens. And Dustin feels everything.

note: hi, katrina here. i didn’t feel like it would work in the story (timeline wise), but i wanted to share that i most def wanted eddie to go up there and beat her dad’s ass. let me know what you think, please? ♥️

next part • posting 07/15 at 5pm pst •

taglist: (sorry for the retag, tryin' something) @babeyglo, @dotslabyrinth, @wheaty-melon, @mattymurdocksbitch, @sammararaven, @onlyfengs22, @perle1990, @ms1oftheboys, @ghosttownwherenoonegoes, @tayhar811, @bbyhargrove, @hiscrimsonangel, @ali-r3n, @secretdryrose, @stranger-messenger, @sunnytkm23, @ambthegamer, @bit-of-a-timelord

• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson x reader #eddie fanfic #Eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #strangerthings #kas vampire eddie #kas eddie munson #kas eddie x you #kas eddie x reader #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson slow burn

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sweet-caress-of-twilight · 5 months

Text

Going off of one of my previous reblogs, i attempted to make a list of where in the world every Disney Animated Canon movie takes place

Antarctica:

Pablo the Cold-Blooded Penguin (The Three Caballeros) (Pablo starts out living in the South Pole and then he goes to Chile, Peru, and Ecuador)

Africa

The Lion King

Tarzan

Asia

Aladdin is set in a mishmash of Middle Eastern countries. It was supposed to be in Iraq, but because of the Persian Gulf War, Disney said no, so it takes place in the fictional country of Agrabah, which is inspired by Baghdad in Iraq.

Raya and the Last Dragon is set in a mishmash of Southeast Asian countries, but takes the most inspiration from Vietnam

China: Mulan

India: The Jungle Book

Europe

England: The Wind in the Willows (The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad), Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, 101 Dalmatians, The Sword in the Stone, Robin Hood, Winnie the Pooh, The Great Mouse Detective

France: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, The Aristocats, Beauty and the Beast, The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Germany: Snow White, Tangled

Greece: The Pastoral Symphony (Fantasia), Hercules

Italy: Pinocchio

Norway: Frozen (Arendelle is heavily inspired by Norway)

Russia: Peter and the Wolf (Make Mine Music)

Spain: Wish (Rosas is inspired by Spain and located off the Iberian Peninsula)

Turkey: Pomp and Circumstance (Fantasia 2000) is about Noah's Ark, and many people believe that the ark landed at Mount Ararat in present-day Turkey

Ukraine: Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria (Fantasia) (the real Bald Mountain is Mount Triglaf, near Kyiv in Ukraine)

Wales: The Black Cauldron

North America

Mexico:

Las Posadas

Mexico: Pátzcuaro, Veracruz and Acapulco

You Belong to My Heart/Donald's Surreal Reverie (all from The Three Caballeros)

United States:

Different towns in Massachusetts and California have claimed to be the Mudville that Casey at the Bat (Make Mine Music) takes place in, but the author of the original poem said it has no basis in fact.

The Legend of Johnny Appleseed (Melody Time) - the real Johnny Appleseed (real name John Chapman) planted apple trees in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Ontario, and West Virginia

Lady and the Tramp could take place somewhere in New England

The Fox and the Hound looks like it takes place in Appalachia, so maybe Pennsylvania or Virginia

Home on the Range is somewhere in the Old West

Bolt takes place across America: starts out in California, the title character ends up in New York, visits Ohio, and is back to California by the end

Alaska: Brother Bear

California: Wreck it Ralph (Ralph Breaks the Internet reveals that Litwak's Arcade is in California), Big Hero 6

Florida: Dumbo

Hawaii: Lilo and Stitch

Louisiana: Blue Bayou (Make Mine Music), most of The Rescuers, The Princess and the Frog

Maine: Bambi (the forest was based on Maine and the animators traveled to Maine for reference)

New York: Johnny Fedora and Alice Blue Bonnet, The Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met (Make Mine Music) (the Metropolitan Opera is in NYC), Little Toot (Melody Time), The Legend of Sleepy Hollow (The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad) (the real Sleepy Hollow is in New York), The Rescuers (the Rescue Aid Society headquarters is in NYC), Oliver and Company, Rhapsody in Blue (Fantasia 2000)

Texas: Pecos Bill (Melody Time)

Virginia: Pocahontas

Washington, DC: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (Milo works at the Smithsonian

Oceania

The Rescuers Down Under: Australia

Moana: Polynesia

Pangaea

The Rite of Spring (Fantasia)

Dinosaur

South America

Argentina: Pedro, El Gaucho Goofy (Saludos Amigos)

Bolivia: Lake Titicaca (Saludos Amigos)

Brazil: Aquarela do Brasil (Saludos Amigos), Baia (The Three Caballeros), Blame It on the Samba (Melody Time),

Chile: Pedro (Saludos Amigos) (The title character delivers the mail in the Andes, between Santiago, Chile, and Mendoza, Argentina), Pablo the Cold-Blooded Penguin (The Three Caballeros)

Colombia: Encanto

Ecuador: Pablo the Cold-Blooded Penguin (The Three Caballeros) (Pablo goes to the Galapagos Islands, which is an archipelago in Ecuador)

Peru: Lake Titicaca (Saludos Amigos) (the lake is at the border between Peru and Bolivia), Pablo the Cold-Blooded Penguin (The Three Caballeros), The Emperor's New Groove

Uruguay: The Flying Gauchito (The Three Caballeros)

Unknown/does not take place in our world

Any of the package film segments not mentioned here

The Little Mermaid seems like it takes place in the Mediterranean Sea, but it could also take place in the Caribbean, which would explain Sebastian's accent

Fantasia 2000: "Pines of Rome" is set in the Arctic, so it could be anywhere from Canada to Alaska to Finland to Russia

Most of Atlantis: the Lost Empire, since the city of Atlantis is completely made up

Treasure Planet

Chicken Little

Meet the Robinsons

Zootopia

Strange World

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supernaturalgirl20 · 1 year

Note

Hey beautiful! 🥰 I'm on a mission, which brings me to your blog tonight for a request. And there's no rush my love, so please take all the time you may want or need. I don't mind waiting at all ❤️.

Okay, picture this: Friends to Lovers kind of deal and Mutual Pining with F!Reader and Frankie Morales. They're out on a mission together but are only gathering intel so they're not planning to fight the enemy, and it's an exceptionally cold night wherever they are (could be an abandoned warehouse, a motel room, or in hiding in the trees etc, just somewhere where they're staying close to each other). She goes to tuck in for the night as there was no activity to record from the threat, but Frankie can hear how cold she is. Like, she is shivering, and the man just can't take it anymore. He tucks in for the night too but lays down beside her instead, placing his chest against her back to keep her warm.

Let the smut and/or fluff commence from this point onwards. I'll leave you to decide which route to take this story after this point. Thank you in advance and love ya bitch! 😏❤️

Chloe I LOVE this request 🥰🥰 Hope you enjoy 😉

Be my Lady?!

Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, PinV sex, oral (female receiving), mutual pining, one bed, unintentional teasing, cursing, fluff.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The static of the radio startles you as you gaze through your scope at Javi’s villa. It’s been quiet, thankfully but it’s been days out here in the thick jungle and the weather is beginning to drain you.

“Fuck, this is boring as shit. I think we’ve gathered enough information, wanna head out?”

“Fish, I thought you’d never ask,” you radio back with a smile in your voice.

“I aim to please half-pint.” You roll your eyes at the nickname he’d bestowed upon you back when you first joined the team. “Meet you at the starting point. Better hurry if we wanna get the chopper to pick us up today. The weather is getting real bad.”

“See you in five.” Packing up you head out to meet Frankie and once you make your way through the clearing you spot him leaning against a tree. He’s fiddling with the watch his daughter got him, something you helped her pick out and you take the opportunity to admire him.

His tack trousers hug his thighs just right and the way he’s leaning back with his legs slightly crossed over highlights his impressive package. The red shirt he’s wearing peaks out under his rain jacket and a smile works its way onto your face. It’s the one you bought for Kris Kringle one year and he always seems to have it on when you’re out together.

“A watched clock never chimes, Fish.” He smiles up at you, that dimple you love making an appearance. “Is that what they say,” he asks as he pushes off the tree and picks up his rucksack. “Winds picking up,” he says, tilting his head to the sky. “Don’t think we’re gonna make it back to base tonight.”

“Damn, I was hoping for a hot shower.” Frankie clears his throat and avoids making eye contact as he begins to lead the way. “Saw a cabin about a mile north, a little run-down but should be ok to haul up there for the night.”

“Once we get out of the rain I’m happy. Lead the way.”

***

When Frankie had said a run-down cabin you were expecting a shell of a building but it was actually in decent condition with a small bed and an open fire. Dropping his rucksack on the ground Frankie turns to you with a serious look on his face and his hands resting on his hips.

“There’s only one bed.”

“So?”

“Half-pint, there’s two of us and only one bed.”

“Yeah. So? We’re grown-ups, we can work something out.”

“You take it. I’ll sleep on the floor. I’m sure there’s some blankets around here somewhere,” he says as he begins to look around.

“Fish, it's ok. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor. You got a bad back.”

“Well, I ain’t making you sleep on the floor before you even suggest it.”

With a sigh, you take a step closer to him and rest your hand on his arm. “I was gonna say we could share the bed.”

His eyes move slowly along your figure before landing where you're touching him. He gulps loudly before meeting your gaze, “you sure?”

“Positive. Now, let’s get that fire lit. I’m freezing.”

Frankie helps you light the fire before heading out back and getting some extra wood to try and keep it going for the night. You take the opportunity to change quickly into dryer clothes but you can’t seem to shake the chill that’s set in your bones so you riffle through Frankie's bag and throw on one of his shirts.

“Hey got enough to keep us going and I’ve cut some extra out back just in case we…” Frankie falters as he turns and spots you standing there with his shirt on. Your gaze wanders and you can see the effect you're having on him through his trousers.

As soon as he realises what you're looking at his face heats and he drops some of the wood. “Fuck, is that my shirt?” He stutters.

Biting your bottom lip you nod your head, “that’s ok, right? I’m just really cold. Needed the extra layers.”

He clears his throat as he makes his way towards the open fire, throwing some logs into it. “Yeah, yup that’s fine…I uh…yeah.”

You try hard not to laugh at how cute he’s being and the thought that he might just feel the same way as you, passes through your mind. He removes his wet jacket and grabs some food from his bag before reaching out and offering you some. “Thanks,” you say with a soft smile, patting the ground beside you.

Huddled together by the fire tucking into the food the sound of the wind howling outside draws your attention. “Shit, that’s bad.”

“I told ya it was gonna get bad. The weather here is always shit. Don’t know why that asshole has a villa here.”

“Hmm, at least we can be back on base tomorrow. I’m missing my bed.”

Frankie snorts a laugh, “that’s saying something. Those things are hard as shit.”

You yawn and Frankie’s eyes flick towards you, “you should get some sleep”, he says tilting his head towards the single bed. “I’ll keep this going a bit longer.”

“You should rest too, Frankie.”

“I will, I promise.”

“You better Morales.”

He watches you wrap the thin blanket over you and settle on the bed before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He was so screwed.

***

A little while later you begin to shiver a little, the thin blanket doing little to alleviate the cold. Frankie notices from where he's sat by the fire and decides he’s going to have to brave it out and hop in beside you.

“Mierda. You better not show me up, you hear. We’re in this together alright. We can't scare her off.”

You realise that he thinks you're asleep but you wonder who he’s talking to. When you peak at him from under the covers he’s pointing at his rather large bulge. Jesus, he is big. When he stands you turn back around and wait as he strips out of his tack trousers before lifting the covers and slipping in behind you.

It’s awkward given how small the bed is and Frankie is a hulk of a man but he manages to fit behind you. He’s careful not to touch you, well any more than can be helped. You shiver again and suddenly Frankie’s arm wraps around your waist and pulls you back against his hard chest.

You’re nestled right up against him and a contented sigh passes your lips. “That better,Hermosa?”

“Hmm, yeah. You’re like a space heater.” You wiggle your butt unconsciously seeking out his heat and a strangled groan comes from behind you. His hand grips your waist tight, “half-pint…Mierda! You gotta stop…I’m not gonna…shit, I’m not gonna be able to control myself if you keep doing that.”

“Who says I want you to?” You turn your head slightly when he doesn’t say anything but then he’s pushing you onto your back as he nestles himself between your thighs. His breathing is ragged and his pupils are blown wide. “Are you sure you want this,Hermosa? I won’t be able to stop once we start. Wanted this…shit, wanted this for so long.”

You bite your lip and nod your head at him. He shakes his and moves your hands above your head. “I need to hear you say it, half-pint.”

“Fuck me Frankie, please.” His eyes close and he groans as he grinds his hips into you. “Fuck your huge, Fish.”

“Don’t call me that, not like this. Say my name.” He grinds his thick length against you again. “Frankie,” you whisper in his ear.

“Fuck. Want you so bad, baby. But I gotta get you ready for me.” He moves down under the covers and pulls your pants down exposing your aching cunt before lifting your legs over his shoulders. He buries his face into you, breathing you in. “Fuck baby you smell so good. Bet you taste even better.”

He licks a strip through your folds and you arch off the bed with a strangled moan. His nose presses into your clit as he devours you. “Oh fuck…Frankie.”

Ooh! You moan as your back arches off the bed, hand finding purchase in his hair. He grips your thighs as he buries his tongue inside you. Fuck he knows what he’s doing. He alternates between licking and sucking and shoving his tongue inside you that you are a complete and utter mess on the bed below him. Writhing in pleasure. That heat begins to form and you can feel yourself getting closer to that edge and you all but shout his name as the pleasure from your orgasm consumes you.

“Frankie.”

His tongue licks around his lips as he emerges from under the covers laying his body flush with yours. You reach up and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. You reach down and grip him tight in your hand. “I wanna taste you now.”

“I won’t last,” he breathes out as he shakes his head. “Next time, baby. Right now I gotta feel you wrapped around me.” He pulls his boxers off and quickly discards them before lining up at your entrance. “Ready baby?”

“Yes. Need you, Frankie.”

His hips thrust forward burying his thick length deep inside. “Mierda. So fucking wet baby. You feel like heaven.” He pounds into you, fucking you deep into the mattress below you, the bed squeaking from the force.

“Oh god….Frankie, I’m gonna….oh…fuck…I’m gonna come.” His hand holds your hip tight as he keeps hitting that sweet spot. “That’s it, baby. Come all over my cock. Wanna feel you.”

“Frankie,” you cry out as your cunt flutters around him. He groans as you squeeze him tight only thrusting a few more times before he follows you off that ledge. He comes hard with a grunt of your name as fills you full of him.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he slumps on top of you. You both lay like that for a while, his cock still buried inside you as you run your fingers through his slightly damp hair.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that to happen on this mission.”

“Me neither,” he mumbles into your skin. “Fucking happy it did though. I owe Pope for swapping with me.”

“What?”

Frankie lifts his head slightly so he can meet your gaze. “Pope was the one who was on this mission with you but I asked him to swap. Wanted to spend some time with you, just you and me.”

“Got it bad, huh?”

He reaches up and places a soft kiss on your lips. “You’ve no idea, baby.”

“Well, I got it bad for you too.”

“Yeah? So does that mean you're my lady now?”

“I’ve always been your lady, Frankie.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @dindjarinswhore @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #frankie x reader #Frankie morales x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader #frankie friday #pedro pascal fanfiction

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