#wanted to make his hair and beard and all float since hes under water haha

[littlesakis-aubade]

Day 7 - Royalty/Noble

Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule… I know Wind Waker‘s ending but I still haven’t finished the game myself (the ending slays meeee I can’t do it)

Next one won‘t be sad I promise

[lisinfleur]

Curse - Epílogue: Back to the Start

Author’s notes: Well, here it comes an epilogue for one more finished series! I hope you guys liked this one! Special thanks for my patreons @directionlessbuthappy, @bang-kim-bap, @ivarswickedqueen and @honestsycrets for the support and sweetness, for @mizantropya for the ending gif, and for @dangerousvikings for the phenomenal moodboard that inspired the whole series! Thank you, guys, for the presence!! Wait for more series soon! 

Warnings: All the ones I always place! Might be triggering.

Words: 1509

The smell of humidity was spread all over that basement and the sound of his voice was everything invading your ears but the dripping of water somewhere into that place.

Everything he told you since you woke up into that place - on your knees, tied up to a broken warmer like a hostage to a hijacker - was making no sense.

In the beginning, you thought you had been kidnaped. But why? You weren't the daughter of any influent family in that city. You were just a waitress having a night off your work, dancing in a pub you heard him saying he was the owner! Your parents were dead for years! You tried to tell him he was taking the wrong person and no one would be there to pay for your freedom but, after all, what would a man like him want with any poor shit you could pay for yourself?

Even into that awful place, that man was well dressed in the beautiful black suit you knew him and his scent was the only good smell floating around like a disconnected thing into that basement. He had such a beautiful smile...

You fell like a lamb into his trap.

"Like I said I would, I took the boats and men towards Kattegat right after my brother's departure from England," he continued with that insane narrative, speaking and speaking that nonsense about Vikings and cursed people. "And according to the people at the docks, I arrived some few days after my brother - who didn't even try to cover his arrival this time. But I didn't have time to search for Hvitserk or anything like that: as soon as I landed, that black wolf came from the woods, crossing the streets of the village, straight towards me..."

 "Shield wall!" Ivar yelled, too late for his men to organize a proper shield wall to contain the beast, that advanced over them, throwing some of his men on the water, tearing one or two of them apart in its sharpen fangs.

Those blues Ivar knew so well, fixed into his...

"Ubbe?"

The beast only growled infuriated at the mention of his name, biting, carving its way to Ivar, leaving destruction and death in its way.

With few of his men holding the beast as the others were trying to find a formation to protect their leader, Ivar saw himself locked in between the water and that beast...

 "It would be to face that wolf or jump from the dock into the sea and sink like a stone," he said, getting up from the chair where he was looking at you since the beginning of that narrative and patting the cane against his leg, provoking a metallic sound that kinda woke you up a little more "You know, these things weren't that light at my time... I would really sink without hope and well, I never liked the idea of being locked in the bottom of the ocean where no living thing would be able to pull me back to the surface, so..."

 Without a better option, Ivar pulled his daggers from his belt, trying to wound the creature and shove the monstrous wolf away from his men and from himself. But the intent only annoyed the creature a little more, causing it to bark infuriated, retreating only to take enough distance to jump over his men and fall over him, throwing Ivar down to the ground with that enormous black wolf covering his body almost entirely.

He giggled, coming closer to you, lowering himself to show you the mark in his face you thought was a charming scar through which he slid his index and middle finger, remembering how deep was that wound at the time.

"Ubbe almost ripped my face off and I have to thank the archers I had in my boat that day for saving my immortal life: Ubbe's fangs and claws are the only things able to open wounds in my skin that I can't heal with fresh blood..." he explained.

And then, a large growl of a furious man and the sound of things being thrown at the ground reverberated over your heads and Ivar looked up to the roof over you - the floor of whatever the place that basement was under.

Ivar smiled.

"Finally..." he said, getting up once again and straightening his clothes "I'm sorry this narrative had been so long, but I was bored, sweet one, I had to pass my time until the time has come."

You felt your skin shiver with the sounds of heavy steps in the higher floor, walking towards what you supposed was the door to that basement.

What more was coming for you?

What time had finally come?

You looked at Ivar when more sounds of things being broken reached your ears, and he sighed, annoyed as if something was getting later than he thought.

"Oh, I think I have some time before he comes. My brother is pretty resistant after all," he said, and your eyes became wider.

Was he keeping you for the wolf?

What kind of stupidity was that? Why were you afraid of such a fantasy from a mindless man?

"Oh, no, no, dear one, not this brother," Ivar said, smiling as if he could hear your mind and answer the questions you didn't make "The other one... Hvitserk..."

The one you thought the wolf had killed in his narrative.

Ivar sighed, for a moment, appearing to be sad for his brother's condition.

"I found him at that cabin: a hole in his neck with the blood already dry around the wound that was slowly healing itself. Margrethe was smelling like fish near him, decomposing fast with the bunch of flies his blood attracted. It was awful to the slaves to clean Hvitserk from all that shit, but soon he recovered from the wounds. Unlike me, Hvitserk can heal the wounds Ubbe causes him very fast. I think this is the reason why I keep him by my side."

More sounds of things being thrown and a loud and agonized scream in a male voice caused Ivar to lose his composure and scream towards the door you no knew where was located.

"You can't fucking fight forever, Hvitserk! Just come down at once, for the gods' sake!"

"NO!" the man upstairs yelled back in a hoarse and distressed voice that caused your heart to clench in your chest.

What was happening to him?

Ivar rolled his eyes, looking at you with ironic expression.

"He fights to death the time to eat... Hvitserk never really surpassed that shit with Margrethe being the first one. And after a while, I understood I have to keep an eye on him or he will really find a way to get himself killed... He never lets Ubbe kill him because somehow, he thinks Ubbe is still there, you know? Inside the wolf. And he says Ubbe wouldn't want to kill any of his brothers after what he had to do with Sigurd's rotten body and all that sentimental bullshit Hvitserk is attached to. He even wanted to get into the sea once, for Björn is looking after him like crazy after Torvi and his children ended up murdered for Kattegat's throne we had to leave behind because of Ubbe's wild hunt on me... Uh!" he sighed "My older brother is tireless! And this is why I need Hvitserk with me. I know he wants to stop... And here, in between us, I know if he starves to death, he will finish his suffering. Is the only real way for him to die. However..."

The sounds of destruction on the higher floor stopped and you heard the door being opened and sounds of heavy steps coming down the stairs before a man with honey-blond braided hair came into your field of view. A beautiful man, with a beard that couldn't cover the huge scar in his neck...

The scar of a bite...

A wolf’s bite.

Your eyes got widen when that man turned a pair of red eyes towards you into which you could see the void of the whole universe.

Ivar smiled once again coming near, standing behind you.

"The hunger always wins..." he spoke, with a smooth voice "I'm sorry we have to shorten our conversation, sweet little pet... But I'm sure you will understand our need".

Hvitserk came closer and you felt Ivar's hand sliding his fingers through your hair, exposing your neck where he placed his fingers, forcing your head up.

Your eyes found a pair of blue glassy eyes looking at you and he smiled with a visible pair of bigger fangs in his smile.

"I would love to have more time with you, sweet one. But the hunger is painful... And the wolf is coming..."

It was true.

All his stories were true.

All his terrible narrative was true from the beginning to the end.

And in that basement in the middle of nowhere...

Who would hear you screaming?

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[undercoverwatermoon]

A Long Time Coming (Part 3- Jalton fic) (Explicit, you guys! )

AO3 Link Here

So, this is Part 3 of the unintended series started by @stupid-jeans in "Night Off", which she wrote because Chibisere23 and I kind of begged her! haha

So, this was written for @stupid-jeans and @chibisere23 as per our agreement lol

Parts 1 and 2 are here:

Part 1- Night off by @stupid-jeans

Part 2- Overdressed and Under Appreciated by @chibisere23.

This is the result of hours of discussions focused on one Adam Dalton and all the head canons, ideas, and thoughts (about him and his body parts, and, yeah...) we have about our favorite Army Captain.

@stupid-jeans, @chibisere23 and I will most likely continue writing...things. Like this one. Because we had a blast and because The Brave fandom is THIRSTY (in @stupid-jeans words lol)

Both @stupid-jeans and @chibisere23 beta-ed this, so thank you ladies so much! You are both awesome! :)

Also, #TeamEggs :D

Hope you enjoy!

_____________________________________________________

Adam slides the keycard, and turns the handle on the hotel room door as the sound of her laugh reaches his ears. Exiting the elevator, she walks in his direction, but her eyes are on her phone and a smile lingers on her lips.

From the moment packing had started in Turkey, the tension between them had escalated steadily. It’d been easy to attribute it to the stress of the last few weeks--dealing with Hoffman, worrying about Patricia, grieving for Preach. But now, past all of that and finally stateside, ignoring the obvious is harder….impossible. That he can’t stop his eyes from roaming over her figure as she approaches is proof positive of that.       

“I thought you were going out with Amir and McG?” he says when she’s closer.

Jaz is not dressed for a night out, he notices. He wants to ask why she changed her mind after dinner, wants to dismiss how relieved he feels that she’s here and not out there, wants to stop himself from wanting her-- wanting them.

None of those are things he’s capable of tonight, so he settles for hiding his nervous hands in his pockets, and hopes she doesn’t notice the barely disguised need in his voice.

At his question, she raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were... going to bed early.”

Her words are chosen deliberately--the challenge and anticipation in her eyes tell him that--and he swallows hard. It reminds him of all the evenings he’s escaped to his room recently, claiming exhaustion or a busy day ahead. Even more, it reminds him of all the times she’s done the same.

Four weeks have passed since the first time he heard her muffled cry of release through the thin walls of the Quonset hut; 11 more times since, he’s kept count. They’ve been playing this game, knowing the inevitable outcome--that the moment would come when the next mission is months away and all that stands between them is a choice.

As she waits for his response, he knows they are past the point of no return; the line has been obliterated, and he wonders if tonight that dam they’ve carefully built over the past three years will break.

“I was...I am,” he corrects, averting his eyes and waving a listless hand. “Just got sidetracked watching a hockey game in the lounge downstairs.”

He doesn’t mention that he picked the lounge so he could watch the lobby entrance in case she returned, or that he can’t remember the names of the teams or what the final game score was. He’d just sat there staring blankly at the revolving doors, thinking about the sound of his name--she calls him Adam in those moments--when it desperately falls from her lips as her orgasm overtakes her. His fists balling in his pockets bring him back to reality, but it’s too late, because she’s said his name more than once and he’s sure his eyes are revealing everything he’s been trying hopelessly to hide.

He doesn’t feel ready. For this conversation. For her.

“You okay, Top?”  

“Yeah, fine,” he says a little too quickly, and hastily turns around, swiping the keycard once more. Before she can answer, he’s said a polite goodnight and closed the door.

Inside his room now, Adam flops on the bed, face down. It doesn’t escape him that he’s probably just made things worse for himself. With a groan he turns onto his back and closes his eyes. He will make it up to her. A sleep well text message will be a good start. Tomorrow, a peace offering involving live music or one of the DC art galleries she likes. These are his conscious thoughts, but his body just wants her hot, soft and wet; writhing in pleasure against him. And god, he wants to taste her so bad it hurts.

Frustration takes over now and he gets up to splash cold water on his face. There’s no doubt the evening will end with him pumping his cock fast and hard and desperate, her name on his lips. He’ll imagine her in the next room, slender fingers working in and out as she thinks of him and screams his name, body tense then going limp with relief.  But that’ll be later, he thinks with a sigh, so for now he walks into the bathroom, stripping down to his boxers as he goes.

The complimentary apple shampoo bottle is neatly placed on a tray on the bathroom counter, and he can’t stop himself...he reaches for it. The sweet and tangy scent is all Jaz and he thinks of threading his fingers through her silky hair, then closing his fists around it and pulling back so he can bury his face in her neck. Gliding his lips over her soft skin, kissing it lightly, licking at her first moan, sucking on her pulse point once she starts to move against him. In his mind, she’s buzzing with need as she arches into him wanting more contact, more heat, more of him...

The sound of a latch turning startles him and his eyes open, hands still gripping the countertop. Their rooms are connected by double doors next to the TV console, and from his place in the bathroom he can hear the door opening on her side. She’ll knock anytime now, he thinks, and the thrill of anticipation runs down his spine. He’s so hard for her already, need so overwhelming after weeks of build up...he just can’t take it anymore.   

“Adam?” Her muffled voice floats in from the other side of the door.  It’s a testament to his state of mind that he doesn’t think twice about opening it. The time for introspection and self-control is over. Now he knows that if she wants this--if she wants him? There will be no going back.

When he opens the door, he steps aside in invitation, but he doesn’t look at her yet. From the corner of his eye he can tell she’s wearing his stolen Army shirt and his mouth goes dry, fists clenching hard at his sides. Somewhere in his head there’s awareness of his state of dress--or undress--that his cock is hard and barely contained beneath thin blue boxers. But they’ve been hearing, and making each other come for weeks now with a barely-there wall between them, and he just can’t find it in him to give a fuck.

“Jaz…” he says, still staring at his feet, his voice low and strangled. “I can’t…” Swallowing, he starts again, “I can’t say no to you tonight…I won’t.”

He means this choice is all on her. That he will follow her lead. That he’s done overthinking, controlling, planning, and avoiding. For better or worse, he’s giving her the reigns.

“Then say yes.”

Adam looks at her then, because her voice is as calm and confident as he wishes he’d feel. That wordless understanding that’s always served them in the field closes the deal. He nods once, she takes a slow step towards him, and that dam he’d thought would break? It shatters.

*********

Jaz has been wet for him since two hours into their flight home. He’d shut his laptop with a sigh, and almost immediately had met her eyes across the cabin as his strong, capable hand -calloused and rough and wonderful- ran over his beard. She’d been powerless to stop the vision in her mind of his tongue between her legs, his delicious beard tickling her thigh, two thick fingers curled inside her as she came apart.   

So, it’s no surprise their first kiss isn’t sweet, soft or slow. Adam’s mouth is hot and intense on hers, teeth on skin, lips working in perfect harmony.

He shivers as her long soft fingers glide back down toward his lower abdomen, and she can’t help the urge to suck his bottom lip between hers, biting down gently when she hears his low moan. When her nails scrape just below the waistband of his boxers, his mouth opens against hers and his eyes roll back into his head with a fuck, Jaz.

It’s a miracle she doesn’t pull his face down to her neck, sink her fingers in his hair. There is no doubt in her mind--tonight she’ll accept nothing less than all of him, buried deep inside her, filling her and stretching her until they both succumb to the white hot bliss. But, in her haze, she remembers that first time she’d heard him come as he cried out her name. For weeks, she’s been thinking about his rambling needy words from that night--yes, please and whatever you say and yes...been so good, Jaz.

She never would’ve guessed that particular fantasy world existed for him, but now watching him- noticing the tired lines around his eyes, how he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders-- she aches for him to just let go for a little while; to feel safe with her, unburdened, loved.

Stepping away from him, she points to the foot of the bed behind them. “Adam. Sit.”

Surprise and the haziness of her scent around him make him do as she asks. Standing in front of him, but out of reach, Jaz shimmies out of her shorts and panties, her eyes on his. She’s naked under his shirt now, and Adam reaches for her.

“Uh, uh.” She swats at his hands. “Good boys ask permission.” The feral growl that erupts from his throat almost makes her jump back, but she stands her ground. Their eyes meet and that silent understanding passes between them once more. She knows what he wants...what he needs tonight. And he’s glad.

Walking around to the top of the bed she pats the headboard. “Scoot up.”

He’s where she wants him now, and returning to the foot of the bed, she crawls toward him, settling on her knees between his legs. Twirling a finger around the hem of the shirt, she begins pulling it up. The bed shifts under his weight; his breathing starting to quicken now and his eyes are glazing over.

“Say please, Adam.”

“Please…” comes his choked response as he’s leaning against the headboard, wild eyes and parted lips.

Slowly, she slides the garment up a little more, and then stops. “Not so fast.”  Waving a hand toward him, she orders, “Boxers off, now.”

The movement is so fast she doesn’t have time to prepare herself for it...the sight of him fully naked now, his long, thick cock flat against his rock hard abs. It occurs to her she might be in over her head as she takes in every inch of him, and she must make some sound because Adam’s tortured chuckle bursts through her haze.    

“Your turn,” Adam says, but she’s recovered enough now to refocus on her initial plan. Two can play this game, and Jaz Kahn will not be outdone.

One sweeping movement later and her shirt comes off. Adam’s mouth drops open, but she doesn’t stop there. She tugs on his knees, shifting down on the the bed to make space for him to lie down. When his head hits the pillow she begins making her way up, so close but not touching, only her warm breath on him. When she licks and takes his right nipple between her teeth the sensation is so intense his hips come off the bed.

“Oh God, Jaz…please.” His eyes are tightly closed and he thinks he’ll die if he can’t touch her soon.

“Arms up.” Opening his eyes, he sees her kneeling on his side, a smirk on her lips. He does as she asks, and she reaches for the discarded gray shirt and ties his wrists above his head.

“You know,” she says as her lips ghost over his ear, “everytime I made myself come--listening to you in the next room --I was wearing your shirt.” The sound he makes is her new favorite thing and his body twitches so hard that she can’t hold back the wave of arousal this time. It’s so swift and intense that she climbs over his stomach and drops down, one hand on his chest, the other moving to her clit, stroking and circling as her teeth bite into her bottom lip.

“Watch me, Adam,” she says. “Oh..yes…” She only circles a few more times before the orgasm rips through her. Breathless, she falls forward, thick black hair all around him, and it just obliterates his resolve.

“Jaz-” he starts, the shirt restraining his wrists now discarded. He brings his arms around her and holds her against his chest, willing his body to wait, as he traces circles over her back.

Her words are stuck in her throat, her body limp against his.

“Adam…” she manages to speak long seconds later, and he hears everything she doesn’t say.  I want you inside me. Now. Take over. “Please…”

The next few seconds are a blur of need and desperation - suddenly she’s under him; solid, warm and perfect his body presses her onto the bed, and her long lean legs wrap around his waist.Those powerful, rugged arms that have saved her life and driven her to ecstasy in her dreams are framing her head, and his lips find hers in a searing kiss.

The head of his cock is at her entrance now, and she rolls her hips, sliding her clit up and down his shaft.

“Damn it, Jaz,” Adam groans--and she chokes out a laugh in spite of the intense arousal, because she loves the inflection in his voice when he says that to her. One large hand on her right hip bone stills her movements, and she whines in disapproval.  

“Problem?” she’s teasing him now. But he’s managed some control back, and instead of replying he moves his hips just right and drives his cock inside her. Hard.  

“Ohhh, fuck...yes, Adam….”

It’s been a long time coming, and only seconds go by before the coiling need inside her starts to build again. Adam turns his face into her neck, sucking and licking the soft skin as he squeezes one perfect breast with his hand. Begging for speed, Jaz angles her hips and digs her heels into his back, and now he’s right where she needs him, faster, harder. Seconds later, the force of her orgasm drives him over the edge, and he comes hard inside her, crying out her name.

Much later, as they snuggle under the covers, Jaz rests her head on his chest and she feels him smile against her forehead.

“What?” She asks, her voice laced with sleep.

“Didn’t take you for a shirt thief, is all.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying to survive on deployment, can you?” There’s a lightness in her tone -mostly thanks to multiple orgasms courtesy of one Adam Dalton and his hot, perfect mouth- but she isn’t entirely joking.

“I may have stolen small amounts of your apple shampoo.” He confesses. Lifting her head at that, her mouth slightly opens in surprise. “A few times.” Now she laughs.

“Any other secrets I should know about?” It’s intended jokingly, he knows.

But this thing between them- it challenges his carefully measured nature. Makes him want to say and do things he’s spent years compartmentalizing...believing he wasn’t meant to have. He knows that she knows that. That she knows him. But these wordless conversations between them need to come to light if there’s any hope of making it through leave without destroying what they have.

So, he answers truthfully, instead of taking the easy way out.  “Yes. So many secrets, Jaz. But, I want you to know that--”

“Shh…I know.” She slides up, shifting to lay fully against him, her lips barely touching his. “Me too.”