#she doesnt love him but she will step in front of a dragon for him

[keepingupwiththeboltons]

They are literally so mama by my chemical romance coded

[prideprejudce]

I think alot more people would enjoy the show if they learned to see Rhaenyra and Alicent as Unreliable Narrators, and characters who are supposed to have glaring flaws and weaknesses.

Mandatory preface- There are Issues™️ with season 2 that are its own other ask- but the complaints ive seen about character assassination on both women kind of tells me ppl just wanted to see the two just GirlBossing around, not being tragic characters trapped in their own circumstances.

For Alicent specifically- she just isn't written to be Cersei 2.0, and while it was really interesting to see motherhood from cersei's point of view, its already been done!! I actually prefer seeing Alicent's mercurial clinging to and abandoning motherhood- its interesting!! She was made a mother at what- 15? An age where you truly arent mentally developed enough to raise 3 kids, AND be a child bride, AND be a queen, (AND be a lesbian).

Alicent is interesting to me because she's stunted at 15 years old, she's an adult woman who talks to and sometimes bullies her kids as if they are her peers, and is obsessed with her childhood crush(es). She hasn't built any new relationships* past the ones she was entangled with as a teenager, she's obsessed with both acting out to make SOMEONE see that shes suffering, (she's honestly pretty blatant for someone who prides themselves on being the Temperate Voice of Reason) but also to erase herself and reset to before she had to marry the king, before aemma died.

I think most of her 'bad out of character' decisions are just these two impulses winning out, her trying to force a reset, go back to a time where none of this had happened yet, when things were simpler and she had love and every day wasn't the worst day of her life™️.

She sleeps with cole, the man she thought was pretty at 15 (her last uncomplicated attraction just before it all went wrong and aemma died) -she doesnt seem to like it that much, but she does seem compelled to seek him out, esp when upset- shes obsessed with, and desperate to reconnect with Rhaenyra, her childhood best friend (and first love) and get back to where they were as kids, AND she still treats and asks her father for absolution as if he's still the only authority that matters to her just like she did at 15. Alot of her 'victim complex/bewildered they took it so far' behaviour in the plotting of rhaenyra's usurption reads to me like a teenager in over her head, she talked big game and now its real and shes panicking!! She's tragic BECAUSE she's still a teenager- so stunted shes unable to meaningfully grow up and learn to make healthier choices for herself, or move on and stop trying to grasp at the 'if i could just go back' urge.

As a mother, I think this creates an interesting dynamic as well, and I do like that in the casting even, she seems closer in age to her kids than rhaenyra does to hers. I think the contrast ppl are drawing with Alicent Protecting Her Kids in season1 compared to her giving them up in season two isn't bad writing to me, just massive differences in context. Sure she protected Aemond in driftmark, but we cant ignore that she probably felt humiliated by her husband choosing rhaenyra's side over hers in front of everyone, did it seem like a grown woman fighting for her son?? or a teenager furious with her ex winning one over her again? or both!! both sides twisted together is still interesting! When she protected Aegon from Rhaenys, is stepping in front of her son the king to protect him from the enemies dragon fire not the most romantic daydream of a deserving death a child bride could come up with?? Was it the impulse to protect the son she couldnt decide if she loved or hated, or was it to have the most heroic death possible to escape the reality that she sees coming. And if Rhaenyra hears about how Brave she was in the face of a dragons maw, and cries about it forever and feels sooo bad and regrets it til the day she dies, thats an added bonus. I think Alicent loves her kids, but is teenager selfish about HOW she loves and protects her kids, and is unable to be a mature, consistant, protective mother to them when she also sees them as having ruined her life. I think in season 2 when she 'gives them up' shes relieved, and once again following the compulsion of 'if i reset to when Rhaenyra was heir, i had no sons, and i wasn't married or queen, everything will be better'. I think theres complexity to it, i think she does love her sons and feels insane about it, but I think Alicent has been trying to Go Back in more and more Intense ways ever since she got married, and we might be giving her sanity more credit than it deserves when it comes to the need to wipe the board clean and go back to being 15.

hey anon are you trying to get married to me or what

[mageofcolors]

sonic characters playing minecraft headcanons bc i cant sleep:

-tails is a huge redstoner. he builds giant farms for everyone on the server to use and also has a tendency to be responsible for most of the server's lag. in their umiverse tails is the one to invent wireless redstone

-tails also likes building house exteriors while amy builds the interiors. they work on a lot of projects together

-amy also runs a business making interiors because shes known to be the best at it on the server

-amy runs a shop selling mob loot because she loves killing things. she's also a master pvper and everyone fears her so you know no one would dare steal from her. she kills withers on the regular and makes bank off the nether stars

-she's also very skilled at using both the axe and the sword, but not as good at ranged weapons.

-sonic is an explorer and likes mods that allow for gear that makes him faster and increases his step height. mountain biomes are the bane of his existance in vanilla

-sonic used to live in tails' house but he would ruin his item sorter system all the time so he asked sonic to get his own storage. sonic now lives in a hole under tails' house

-sonic's a big potion user. he likes speed potions + water breathing / night vision potions for dealing with water stuff. he's soooo brave about it. he forced himself to take on a water temple because he couldnt stand the idea of there being an enemy he couldnt defeat. being underwater makes him sick tho

-knuckles is a miner and his house is a series of tunnels that blends into his mine. he also likes building things mainly with stone materials. he takes inspiration from irl angel island.

-rouge is a big flyer. shes possibly the best elytra user on the server

-rouge collects all the gems in the game and stacks them in shulker boxes in a vault nobody on the server has found yet. she does randomly flex by taking them out and showing them off. she'll go up to knuckles and just place a shulker box full of diamond blocks in front of him to taunt him, then quickly grab it and fly away.

-rouge doesn't mine so much as she'll trade or steal. she mainly steals from knuckles tho just to mess with him. knuckles always gets confused where his stuff has gone and still hasnt figured out rouge is the one taking it.

-rouge will also trade random missions for gems. these missions will often consist of helping with playing pranks on other members of the server.

-cream runs a flower and dye "shop" where she has super cheap prices, but half the time she will just give people flowers as gifts. everyone returns the favor with much more valuable items to make her happy but it technically doesn't count as selling/buying because cream never asks for anything in return. she does like receiving gifts tho

-big is always on the server, fishing. little do they know big is actually physically in the minecraft world. he doesnt know how he got there but he's vibin

-knuckles is very into minecraft lore. he likes exploring to learn more about the world and he likes finding old ruins. while sonic is also an explorer it's not too often they'll actually team up unless theyre specifically going to fight a difficult enemy. usually they prefer to go solo

-when time came to fight the ender dragon everyone showed up (except cream because she didn't think the dragon is evil and didnt want to kill it). shadow, sonic, and knuckles were all fighting for the final hit on the dragon. shadow got the hit but sonic stole the egg before anyone else could. he's hiding it in the hole under tails' house. rouge has her sights set on that thing and will figure out where it is any moment now. she just has to wait for tails to leave the house so she can search without being seen or heard

-shadow was the first on the server to get the achievement for collecting all the cats

-shadow is also a pretty good builder and he lives in a nice house with his cats. he has the most maxed out armor on the server

-tails has a solo world as well where he runs like 1000 mods that nobody else's computer could handle. i thought this was important to mention

-sonic likes to collect heads. both mob heads and player heads. he has 20 knuckles heads and 13 shadow ones but he could not get a tails one until tails donated one himself to the collection.

[roughentumble]

oh, i forgot! i worked on this and finished it forever ago, in my notes app. i'd already uploaded a partially finished version, but i filled in the missing pieces, added some yennefer, and gave it an ending. @fangirleaconmigo had liked it the previous time around, so hopefully she likes this finished version! link here to the old version, in case you're curious what got added.

fic summary: geralt gets sent back in time to the dragon hunt, and makes changes at key points in the timeline to lead to a better future. he can't remember that he went back, or what choices he's supposed to make, he just gets vague feelings.

======

geralt wakes up in a daze.

there's something on the tip of his tongue-- like when you don't remember a dream, but you remember the shape of it. he fights to recall it, because it seems so big, so important, as the last strands slip through his fingers. his body wills him to stand up, and so he does, as if he could chase the fragments that way, but moving only seems to dislodge them further. he doesnt even recall falling asleep. he sees-- jaskier, a few feet away with his back to him, far enough he'd have to call out to be heard, and everything is hazy as he stumbles over, some sort of need he cant name thrumming under his skin. he could get angry about it, or-- or...

he places a hand on jaskier's shoulder, and jaskier whips around in surprise, blinking owlishly at him. he starts to say something, brow furrowed with concern and sympathy, but geralt cuts him off with a squeeze of his shoulder. "i think you were right. we should go to the coast."

concern gives way to joy, like the sun breaking through the clouds, lighting up his entire face. "you-- really? actually, you'd want that? what caused the change of heart, did you whack your head or something?" he waves his hand in dismissal, keeps speaking before geralt can interject. "doesn't matter, really, what matters is that you did. i'll pack my things right away, and we can load up dear old roach, and i can compose a stunning ballad out of this whole mess because i am a miracle worker, and-- oh you'll just /love/ the coast i'm /certain/ of it! fine wine and pearls and the salty sea stretching out forever over the horizon, and the sunsets, oh! to die for, truly!"

perhaps he did hit his head. there's dirt in his hair, more than usual, and he doesnt think he woke up in a bedroll... but he can't find it in himself to care. it all came out so easy, and something about it had felt right. he reaches out to take jaskier's hand in his own, and jaskier only trips over his words for a moment, glancing down at them in confusion, then smiling even brighter, if that was even possible. that feels right, too. in the same way he cant put his finger on. he'll examine it later, when he's a little more awake. for now he just pulls jaskier gently by the hand towards camp, so he can do that packing he was talking about.

they leave the mountain, and the cursed dragon hunt, behind, without much fanfare or a word to the others.

===========

he doesnt like the coast much, as it turns out. sand isnt great for poor roach's hooves, salt sticks in his long hair making it unmanagable, and the large swath of ocean in front of him makes him edgy in a way he doesnt want to put a name to, because geralt of rivia does not /do/ being afraid. it's all logic, is what it is, giant sea monsters lurk in those depths, and surely no witcher is equipped to deal with their likes. a certain healthy cautiousness makes sense, he reasons.

he likes jaskier at the coast, though.

happy and free, laughing, backlit by the sun, sand on his cheek and pants rolled up to the knee. fancy shoes dangling from his fingers.

/foolish bard/, he thinks, stepping closer, brushing away the sand, /foolish, silly little bard, never brings the proper footwear anywhere we go./ out loud he says "i'm in love with you."

he watches closely the play of emotions across jaskier's face, the joy morphing into shock, disbelief, mouth gawping open like a fish. in the next moment he's dropped those fancy shoes to grab geralt's head, yanking him down into a kiss that's equal parts frenzy and passion and finally coming home. they kiss until the water laps up to their ankles, arms tangled around each other.

the incoming waves claim just one of jaskier's fancy, impractical shoes, and he curses the sea, running into the water as if he could fish the thing out, or else batter the sea into compliance. geralt laughs, and laughs, and pulls jaskier from the salty sea to kiss him again, and again, and again, even as he complains about his lost shoe. "you'll be compensating me for that, witcher." he warns, shaking his finger.

"wouldn't have it any other way," geralt responds, breathless with joy, and jaskier sinks into his grip.

========

"i want you to come with me. to kaer morhen."

jaskier stares at him with open-mouth. it isnt an offer given lightly. even in all their years of on-again off-again, geralt never extended this particular invitation to yennefer. maybe he was too scared of being known, or too scared of being trapped in one place-- if things went sour when they couldnt just leave, would it go away for ever? she's gone away forever anyway, for all his clinging and carefully calculated space. she said no, and he found-- he found--

years he's spent, dragging his feet. years, and with jaskier it's so old and yet so new, and he's decided that he is sick of the waiting, of the right pace. he wants jaskier with him, now and always. "this winter, the two of us. up in the blue mountains."

jaskier is nodding before geralt can finish speaking, tears welling in his eyes. "i want that too, love. gods, you know i'd follow you anywhere." and then he laughs, free and joyful and it's the best sound geralt's ever heard in his life. jaskier reaches out, touches his cheek, like he's confirming this is real, and geralt leans into his space to press their foreheads together. inhales the scent of his tears mingled with pure joy, and it smells like the ocean.

=================

they keep heading south, because it isnt time to head north yet, and because geralt's got a feeling he'd really like to disprove. can't explain where it comes from, exactly, just that he feels a tug, senses a rumbling in the earth, hears whispers on the streets. he climbs the rocky outcropping while jaskier waits by roach, idle and bored. he wants to be wrong. wants it so badly he hasnt even shared his theory with jaskier. he looks out over the path below.

he is not wrong.

a sea of black and gold. cintra is the gateway to the rest of the north, and it's about to fall.

============

he tells jaskier to wait in the cintran marketplace. if this works, geralt will be able to meet him there without injury, or at least be able to send someone to fetch him. if it doesnt, he'll need to resort to drastic measures, which should put him in jaskier's path too. he's grateful for this decision when he ends up surrounded on all sides by calanthe's men-- he has no doubt jaskier would be able to extract himself from the danger as he always does, but he still doesnt like seeing it. he holds a knife to the throat of an old friend, and wonders why it feels familiar. wishes that it didnt.

when they fall through the portal, dodging calanthe's trap, jaskier is far enough away from their stall that he doesn't hear the commotion-- presumably, anyway. geralt wishes he could see him, just to confirm he was safe, confirm he actually made it, but he's too preoccupied to linger on the thought.

he's led through bullshit and lies, attempts to buck fate, but he can feel the tightening noose of destiny and knows its all pointless. he'll walk away with his child surprise, it's just a matter of whether that leaves him with a target on his back.

calanthe orders him gone, and eist escorts him.

"i remember when you honored the Law of Surprise. what changed?" geralt asks, needs to provoke something real out of one of them, desperately hopes for a chink in someone's armor.

"i had a granddaughter." eist throws at him blithely.

"so protect her." geralt says through gritted teeth. the conversation feels like one he's had a million times. "what if calanthe's wrong? what if they come and ciri is trapped?" he presses.

"i fight side by side with my queen." eist replies, unmoved.

"you put too much faith in that woman."

"well, you weren't there. after pavetta died, calanthe would wake up howling in the night. The Lioness, nearly broken." eist shakes his head, looking off in the distance as he relives the memory. geralt's temples throb, lips ghosting over the words along with him, wondering why the hell it's so familiar. "someone who's able to pull themselves out of that, they'll have my confidence till my final day."

geralt wants to scream. its not enough. it isnt enough. why do their minds never change?

"i need your promise you won't come back." eist says, and geralt pauses in the entryway, weighs his options.

it's so godsdamned familiar. and yet, he cant say anything but the truth. "if i hear ciri's in danger, you know i can't do that."

"i know."

the bars fall.

jaskier was shopping nearby. he hears the clatter, and comes running. its so like them-- somehow they always find each other.

he calls for geralt, running up to place his palms on the bars, face screwed up in fear and outrage.

guards close in, shouting at jaskier to step away from the prisoner, and geralt whips around to face eist. "dont hurt him." geralt pleads.

"he's your companion. a weasly little thing, there when you claimed the law of surprise in the first place. how do i know he wont try to break you out? or take the child surprise for you?" eist asks, and geralt's stomach plummets.

"you're a reasonable man, eist. i understand your commitment to calanthe, but jaskier hasnt done anything. he isn't bound to ciri by destiny, he has no claim to her. nilfgaard is nearly at the border, don't doom him by locking him in the dungeons when he's harmless." he grips the bars tighter, knuckles turning white from the strength of his grip.

eist looks considering, so geralt presses on. "please. as one old friend to another, he's just a bard. don't punish him for my folly."

"we were never old friends." eist disputes. "...but i dont see the harm one bard could cause." relief hits geralt like a tidal wave, and he lets out his breath in one big exhale. "i dont think i've ever seen you scared before." eist cuts a look at him, and his eyes seem to pierce through geralt. he steps closer to speak in a low tone. "nearly at the border, you say?"

geralt nods, trying to project just how seriously he means it. "i wouldnt lie about this."

eist thinks for another moment, then says "i'll get him a guest room in the castle."

geralt's knees nearly buckle with relief. a guest room he can move freely in, and the castle will be the most well-fortified place during the inevitable seige. jaskier has a chance of survival. "no!" he hears for behind him, and he whips around to stare at jaskier.

"no, geralt, i wont leave you! they cant imprison you, you havent done anything!" he presses, tears welling in his eyes. he knows what's coming as well as geralt does, and he stinks of fear. geralt walks to the other side of the small cell to grasp jaskier's hands through the bars.

"jaskier, it's alright. i'll be right where i need to be. it's destiny, remember? i just need to know you'll be safe while i do it." jaskier looks unconviced, but geralt squeezes his hands tighter. "promise me you'll stay in your room. promise you'll wait for me. /promise/."

jaskier blinks back tears. "i promise." he says, and geralt lets out another sigh of relief. he leans forward as jaskier does, foreheads as close to touching as the bars will let them.

"alright. let's go." eist says, and a guard finally steps forward to place a hand on jaskier's elbow. he looks geralt in the eye, shoulders squared, a silent promise that they'll see each other again.

geralt meets his gaze. and then he's taken away.

============

++++++++++++

"this is cirilla. ciri, this is--"

"ah-ah, let me do my own introductions, i get to say it so rarely, after all." he says, cutting geralt off and turning to ciri. his shoulders roll back, posture straightening, carrying himself with a sudden air of gravitas. "my name is julian alfred pancratz, viscount de lettenhove. graduate of oxenfurt, master of the seven liberal arts, and esteemed poet and minstrel, better known throughout the kingdoms as the famed bard jaskier. at your service." he bows deeply, a fluid, graceful movement, and when he comes back up he looks rather pleased with himself.

there's a beat of silence. "...my partner." geralt finishes his earlier statement, eyebrow raised and thoroughly unimpressed. ciri mostly just seems surprised. "don't worry, you get used to the chatter."

jaskier splutters, cheeks turning red in offense. "you! that was a perfectly lovely introduction, you

great big oaf, i dont know why i put up with you."

ciri giggles nervously, then claps a hand over her mouth, a much needed moment of levity for the young girl. it cant last forever, though. geralt says "we need to go to sodden hill."

"why?" ciri asks, dread filling her stomach at the thought of all that destruction, and geralt places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"i think yen is there and i need to find her." he explains, and jaskier rolls his eyes.

"always chasing the old witch," he says, with maybe an undercurrent of jealousy, insecurity. it's something geralt will need to address, but not now. not like this.

"come on, bard." he says as he mounts roach and pulls ciri up with him.

"oh, left to walk as always while she gets the royal treatment? just a simple, gruff 'come bard', like im some dog who'll heel for you, i see how it is. so much for partner." he says with a sniff, and ciri giggles again, still a little uncertain. geralt bites back a smile.

"you can walk the other way, if you please." he replies, and jaskier sputters once more.

they quiet as they reach the battlefield, empty but for destruction and corpses. jaskier holds his nose for the stench.

geralt steps away from them to speak to the first person he sees, a woman in obvious shell-shock, looking around as if she's lost everything. perhaps she has. she looks at and yet through geralt as he speaks to her, seeing him without seeing him. then she speaks, and all of jaskier's disdain falls away with a gasp, hand flying to his chest.

"yennefer is dead."

it hangs in the air, dampening sound, stilling the trees. yennefer is dead. she is no more.

geralt's heart pounds in his ears, and he has so much and so little that he wants to say. he opens his mouth, and then stops. feels so faint, blinks away the fog in his mind, as certainty overcomes him.

"no, she isnt." he says, and tissaia looks at him with such pity, like he's in shock. and he doesnt know why he said it, except that it feels true. he feels almost lightheaded, shaky on his feet, anchored only by his knowledge that yen is alive.

"we are bound by fate. i would feel it if she were dead," he says, and he doesnt know if that's true, but he knows the certainty, and has no other explanation for it. it makes something like hope flicker across tissaia's face, warring with the absolute desolation.

"it cant be," she says, unwilling to trust the words of a strange man she's never met, one who couldnt know

"i'll find her," he says. "we'll meet again."

===

"i'm sorry." jaskier says, his voice so quiet. ciri is uneasily asleep, and jaskier and geralt sit around a fire.

"there's nothing to be sorry for. we'll find her again." geralt says, because it has to be true. it feels true. it must... it must...

jaskier lays a hand on geralt's arm, his voice soft and sympathetic. "then im sorry she's missing." he says, even though he clearly doesnt believe it.

the jealousy and insecurity has bled away now that she's gone. now that he /thinks/ she's gone, anyway. "all our old fighting... it was all so petty. even up till the last--" he stops himself, changes tracks. "...it was all so pointless. i know i pulled you between two people you cared about very much. and im sorry for it."

"i never minded. not really, not the little stuff. you and yen wouldn't be yourselves if you didnt bicker." geralt says, and jaskier shoots him a wane smile. he leans in to kiss geralt's cheek.

"then i promise i'll find something to be catty about when we find her again." he says, tucking geralt's hair behind his ear. "just-- i know this insecurity is gauche, considering the circumstances of her... disappearance. but if we do see her again, you'll still pick me, right?"

"yennefer means very much to me. but now that i have you, you're it for me, jaskier. i promise." he leans in to kiss jaskier on the mouth, short and quick and still so emotional. "she's my destiny, but you're my choice."

jaskier lets out a shaky breath, and pulls geralt in for another kiss.

===========

"tell me, friend, who changed you."

geralt smiles to himself as he considers his answer. "yennefer. ciri." he pauses, looking over at his companion, currently fiddling with a tchochkey on a shelf. "...jaskier." said man turns around when he hears his name, then freezes as if caught, item still in hand. when he meets geralt's eyes, though, he smiles, and geralt smiles back.

"well, you've the girl and the bard. but where is this lovely lady yennefer?" he asks, and geralt's smile falls.

"...she's gone." he says, and jaskier's mouth twists.

"last we heard, she was dead." jaskier says gently, and geralt flinches. he still refuses to believe it.

"she isnt," geralt insists, "but... wherever she is, she's still lost to me. who knows where she's gone to lick her wounds."

there's silence for a moment, pity etched into nivellen's eyes. "...i am sorry." he says, and geralt nods. let him think what he likes. geralt knows better.

=========

+++++++++

eskel says that if he had a princess surprise he would fuck her, and geralt feels blind rage rising in his chest, overpowering his mind as he thinks to ciri, little ciri, broken ciri, /his/ ciri. a child.

eskel would never say that, geralt thinks to himself, the absolute wrongness of it all settling over him like a cloak. something in his chest urges him forward. he wants to take eskel aside and slap sense into him, wants to know what happened to his most trusted brother, his most beloved, his other half, but he feels that same faintness in his head. he's starting to notice it, but it doesnt want to be noticed, it leaves him foggy and confused.

a vague impression seats itself in his mind. it almost sounds like 'i should have...' but it's gone just as quickly. he moves as if in a dream, filling a tankard with white gull, dosing it with sedative hidden away from when they were boys, when they needed to subdue witchers for medical treatment in a full keep.

eskel takes the mug and drinks it so fast, drinks like he's trying to outrun something, drinks like there's horror nipping at his heels. he falls asleep at the table, and geralt volunteers to bring him back to his room. vesemir offers to help, and he has no excuse to turn him down when carrying a full grown witcher's weight is such an ordeal, though he sweats under the collar when eskel cant even drunkenly stumble between them, fully dead to the world. vesemir must know something is wrong. he must.

they get him to his room with a lot of grumbling but no real issues, throw him down on the bed. "he drank himself into quite the stupor," vesemir says with shrewd eyes, brow furrowed.

geralt doesnt know what to say. "what's going on here, geralt?" he asks, and geralt's stomach plummets.

"i have to-- i cant explain, i just have to--" he starts, struggling for the words. "something is wrong. he's hurt." vesemir sends him a look that screams 'duh'.

"so you drug him to work on him in secret? this isnt like you." vesemir says, and geralt gets the crazy urge to laugh, because it isnt like him, he doesnt know what the fuck he's doing, except that he /must/.

witchers are allowed to lick their wounds in private, theyre allowed to come home angry and changed. geralt pushed them all away after blaviken, and none of them held him down, forced him, none of them acted like the mages that made them. he feels sick.

"we have to. vesemir, we--" he starts, grabbing eskel's shirt and lifting it to look at the damage. vesemir holds out a hand to stop him, and then they both fall still with a gasp. there, in his chest, right above his heart, is a piece of embedded wood.

it's big, not like a splinter, maybe the size of a fist, with spindly roots that anchor it, spreading out like veins under the surrounding skin. it pulses, just a bit, and embedded within the center of it is something else, a chunk of rock that almost looks like obsidian. rock gives way to wood gives way to flesh.

"we have to get it out of him." geralt says suddenly, going for the knife at his hip.

"we don't even know what it is," vesemir says, though the disgust is plain on his face. "what if removing it kills him? it could be in too deep."

"and what, just let it grow? it's right above his heart, it'll kill him soon anyway. and it's /moving/." geralt says, and vesemir looks pained.

"...i'll keep him out using somne," vesemir says, "we need to get it out fast but careful. dont leave a single branch behind."

they nod to each other, and geralt heats up the knife using igni, lets the flames lick the blade, then he gets to work.

eskel screams in his sleep, fighting against the drugs, against vesemir's hold, the first touch of heated metal enough to make his whole body tense. the wood contracts, roots tightening visibly beneath his skin, and geralt grits his teeth. one by one he pries them out of his guildsman's flesh, the wood sizzling and popping when touched by the hot blade. blood streams down eskel's chest, and he screams again, whole body arching

the roots convulse in the open air, trying to return to the safe haven of his veins, only to be cut off and thrown to the floor. a new root tries to grow in the old one's place and geralt cauterizes the stump, pressing the flat of the knife to it to produce even louder sizzling. if the thing could scream it would be, and eskel convulses once just like the thing in his chest.

suddenly, footsteps. the other's had heard his screams. lambert bursts in, shouts "what the fuck's going on?!" and geralt shakes his head, knowing what a strange scene they make, how threatening he looks holding a red knife.

"there's no time!" he says.

"go get every healing potion in the keep, now!" vesemir shouts, struggling not to break his own concentration. there's stillness, and then some of the gathered witchers run to do as told, while the rest watch in silent horror

geralt gets his nails under the edges of the thing and begins to lift, eskel once more arching up to follow him. it moves agonizingly slow, tearing eskel's flesh as the bark is dragged past his delicate muscle tissue. it seems to go on and on as geralt pulls, and to his own horror, he realizes something. it isnt just growing out, it's growing down. down into him, down towards his heart.

sweat drips down vesemir's forehead from holding the sign so firmly and so long. the root on the bottom extends down into eskel's chest, down towards his heart. geralt has to act fast and careful all at once.

his knife wasnt made for cutting wood, but he pushes it between the lump and eskel's body anyway, carving away at the spot where the root connects to the whole. there's so much fucking blood, he can barely see, and he has to drag the knife back and forth to get even the tiniest bit of progress, utterly devoid of leverage or the proper teeth to dig into the plant's flesh. then, finally, with a twist of his wrist, he snaps the wood chunk free from the root, cauterizes it, and throws it to the floor. only one last step.

he pushes flesh aside and sees the root go down, wrapped firmly around a rib, and then...

his heart. beating. right out there in the open, skin and muscle shoved aside to make way for that /THING/. the root is wrapped around the heart, squeezing, causing his convusions, and geralt feels sick, but there's no time to stop or wait. vesemir's control is slipping. blood is flowing faster now.

his fingers slip through blood and fat and viscera and things meant to be kept inside as he tries to untwist the root from the shock-white of eskel's rib bone. it snaps, apparently brittle now that it's disconnected from the whole, and geralt throws another piece at his feet. his hands arent clean, arent washed, but there's no goddamn time, so he slides a finger down beside his other half's very heart and hooks the back of the root. pulls so slow, so careful.

it pops free with a spray of blood, and all falls still.

"g'r'lt?" comes slurred from the bed. "did th't come outta' me?" eskel asks, and then immediately falls unconcious once more.

vesemir slumps against the wall. "gwain, coen," he says, panting just a bit, "the pig we were keeping for meat? slaughter it. we need a skin graft, clean and quick. everard, merek, sutures and everything else we need to clean and bandage."

only lambert remains, pale and silent, staring at the floor where the pieces of now inert wood rest. time seems less linear, suddenly, and nobody has much clue how much of it passes. all they know is that lambert cleans up the pieces of foreign blood-soaked thing into a jar for safekeeping, and the supplies filter in. eskel gets healing daughts poured down his throat, and geralt keeps working to stitch his chest together with pig skin, wont let anyone else touch him. they both breathe easier once the final stitch is in place, and geralt steps back with shaking hands as the other witchers wipe down his skin, slather it in healing poultices, and cover him in bandages. geralt falls asleep on the floor, trembling, without the sense in his head to clean away his brother's blood.

when eskel wakes up, he thanks them. tells them his head felt wrong, something whispering in it, ever since that leshen got one lucky shot. says the leshen didnt look right, didnt act right, that he couldnt remember how to kill it once it embedded in his chest. "it's like it went to seed in him," vesemir says in horror, and everyone shakes their heads, and they dont know what to do. but eskel is there. he is weak, and he is bedridden, and he is /there/.

finally, kaer morhen can rest.

=========

vesemir doesnt think these flowers are the answer. he doesnt recognize them-- though if he knew every part of the formula, it wouldnt be lost to him as well. still, though, it doesnt sound right to his ear, even if he doesnt know as much about flora as one might if they'd dedicated their life to the study of it. he can imagine, though, being desperate enough to believe it. he thinks back to eskel, and how they'd almost lost him to such a stupid error. he feels the loss of their way of life, their traditions, weighing on his shoulders in a way he never thought he'd face in his lifetime.

the little scrap of paper in her hand is so innocuous. and even if it's wrong, or merely an approximation of what once was, he feels the need to keep it, to catalogue it, preserve it as he has everything else in the keep... even the unsavory ones. the metal rack so many boys died on, that countless others were changed in, /chained/ in, sitting in the basement like it's a coffee table. like it's nothing. like it isnt horrific.

but it's all he has. and it's what they needed.

his fingers curl around the paper. "how many other people know of this blossom? would be likely to put two and two together?" he asks.

"not many at all, i would imagine. even fewer would know how to apply the knowledge , or enough inner workings of witchers to make the leap. and it's only a theory, anyway, i cant confirm it as of yet." she replies, watching him closely.

their numbers, so weakened, so devastated. the continent is running out of monsters, but it hasnt run dry just yet-- witchers are still needed, and theyre dwindling. and yet...

he flicks his fingers, and the page goes up in flames. a little cast of igni, and suddenly the secret is unknown once more. "cant let anyone know how we're made-- sorcerers have been after the information for as long as there have been witcher schools. no telling what havoc they'd wreak across the continent if they had the recipe. and... there will be no more boys."

he looks at the ashes in his hand, and he aches in ways he doesnt have words for, for the life he had and the men he lost and all those boys. "i thank you for your diligence, and your offer," he says diplomatically, "but i urge you to forget what you've discovered, and tell no one. and if you do decide to divulge our secrets, then i can only pray your approximations were wrong."

she had looks surprised when the fire burst to life, but understanding settles across her features.

there will be no more potions. no more blood spilt for these old stones. and there will be no more boys. he never even mentions their clandestine conversation to ciri. she deserves her choices, but she's a traumatized child, and he's an adult. he doesnt need to burden her with this.

=====

+++++

"yennefer of vengerberg." jaskier says in awe. cant believe geralt was right. cant believe she's alive. "shouldve known you wouldnt stay dead, rotting necrophage that you are," he says, catty and mean and a little breathless because she's /alive/. but then her arms are around him, and she's hugging him so tight he can barely breathe, and he lets out a shocked grunt. "uh? hugging? you're hugging me, you do know you're hugging me, right?" he asks, mouth running faster in his confusion.

"oh jaskier," she says, "it's so good to see you."

"good. to see /me/. did you hit your head at sodden? is that where you've been all this time, wandering the countryside mindlessly?" he asks, and she snorts. snorts! like he's funny! which he is, but she's never admitted it before.

"oh how i miss when my problems were as small as a single sing-songy twit." she says fondly, taking him by the shoulders and leaning back to take a look at him.

"now i'll never admit to having said this, i'll deny it if you ever try to tell... but i am very glad you're not dead, yennefer." it comes out so damn soft, and for all their bickering it's hard not to be soft about someone you've known at least ten years. he cradles her arms in his palms, so they're both holding each other but at arm's length. "but i really must ask, where the hell have you been? we've been looking for you!"

"it's a long story," she says evasively, and he narrows his eyes.

"ah, well, if it's long then you certainly wouldnt want to tell it twice." he says, and leads her down the corridor, towards a closed door. "here," he says gently as he pushes it open, "i figure if you're here, you'd like to see geralt, too."

the room goes so still. "i knew," geralt says. "i knew we'd find each other." he says, and yennefer runs into his open arms for a hug, stress melting away as she tucks her face into his neck. for the first time in a long time, she feels /safe/.

jaskier watches them fondly, shoulder resting against the doorway. they'll have time for questions and answers. for now they can just be happy the world has a touch less death in it.

=======

"yen," he says gently. "im sorry for what i said. you would make an excellent mother."

yen's face does something complicated. "geralt--"

"ciri will need one." he says, and yen recoils in shock, to hear him offer it so plainly.

"so-- what, you want you and i to play house with your little orphan?" she asks, and it comes out harsh, but she doesnt take it back. geralt shakes his head.

"it wouldnt be like that. im... im with jaskier now." geralt replies, and that makes yen's eyebrows fly up in shock. "we wouldnt be... together like that. but we would be friends. partners. equals. i think it might be good for us, to take the heartache out of the equation. and ciri needs a teacher, someone like you. i think you'd be good for each other." he pauses, and when yen has nothing to say to that, he says "think about it."

she steps through a portal with ciri anyway. she sees him beg them not to leave, and she walks away anyway. but his offer rings in her head as loud as voleth meir's promises, and halfway to their destination yennefer brings them to a stop. ciri is so bright. so bright and beautiful, and with such great power, hair like geralt's and a heart like geralt's, so hurt and yet longing so deeply for love, and she looks at yennefer with such /trust/. so much trust, and she's leading this doe-eyed girl astray, what could be hers, what /should/ be hers, and yennefer is tired of sacrificing and sacrificing and sacrificing. she loves hard and she loves vicious and she loves selfishly, and when ciri demonstrates her powers yen thinks /my daughter did that. my. mine./

she thinks /you cannot have her,/ she thinks /you will not take this from me,/ she thinks, /i will no longer have no choice. i have a choice. i am making it./

and she turns on her heel and leads ciri in an entirely different direction. she leads ciri away from doom that ciri never even knew was hanging over her head. voleth meir screams, and she walks away anyway, down a road where she knows an equally angry geralt will find her. she only hopes she can talk him out of his rage before he sends her away.

====

"i want to know where yennefer of vengerberg is going." geralt says to codrinher and fenn. they look at each other, and then back at him.

"and you think we know this? we dont keep track of EVERY person on the continent, geralt." fenn replies

"i dont have time for games. i just need something, anything. where was she recently. she has--... someone very dear to me. and i must find them." geralt says, hands balled into fists.

they exchange a look. "we truly cant tell you her whereabouts. she hasnt been seen in quite a while. all that's known is that she was mumbling to herself last she was seen, before she vanished."

"what was she saying?" he presses, and codringer looks thoughtful.

"something like 'turn back to the forest, turn back to your mother'?" he says, scratching his chin.

"turn your back to the forest, hut hut. turn your front to me, hut hut." geralt says, understanding dawning on him.

"could be. our ears on the ground didnt hear it any clearer." fenn says, seemingly annoyed that there's information she doesnt know.

"i know where she's going " he says, throws a bag on coins on the table, and leaves as quick as he came.

===

geralt has his sword drawn before they even see him, terror lancing through him at the idea of ciri being taken to that being. ciri shouts with joy when she spots him, then with fear as he presses his sword to yen's throat. she lets him, no fight in her.

"i couldnt do it. i turned back. back to you." she swears, and geralt glances between the two of them, trying to assess if ciri is alright.

"geralt, what are you /doing/," she begs, looking so young and so frightened.

"what did she promise you? money? power?" geralt asks, betrayal running deep, burning him up inside, because he'd /trusted/ yen, and first chance she got she ran off with his child. /his/. to sacrifice her to something old and foul.

yen looks decimated. "...i cant be ciri's teacher. my magic... it's gone." yen says, and geralt startles at that. then she whispers, soft and broken and desperate, "geralt, she's in my head."

suddenly geralt sees her for what she is. someone very hurt, and very alone, who fought through the promises and manipulations of a demon to bring his daughter back to him. he slowly lowers his sword and pulls yennefer into an embrace. "we'll fix it." geralt promises

====

it doesnt get any easier to ignore voleth meir, but she looks around and sees kaer morhen, and the family that she's been welcomed into, and remembers that she's allowed to stay. that she has fought tooth and nail for every inch of her life until now, and she can keep fighting. that ciri is /hers/.

she teaches magic anyway, without demonstrations. it's hard for ciri, and it's hard for yen, but she isnt as worthless as she feared she'd be powerless. ciri looks up to her. ciri hugs her. ciri asks her hair be plaited for dinner. ciri is her choice, and she makes it every morning.

until one morning, it changes.

it starts small, just a creep, just a tickle. but she snaps her fingers, and a book by her bedside begins to float.

she'd burned herself out, ran her magic dry, scorched the channels it flowed through, but it healed. it came back with time. it was always going to come back with time.

she collapses to her knees and sobs, sobs like a child, for what has been returned to her.

and without her magic to tempt her, voleth meir loses her foothold in yennefer's mind. the whispers quiet and fade until theyre nothing but a memory.

and finally, yennefer is free.

=========

when geralt lays down that night, he dreams.

"ive found a djinn," yen says,

and geralt sees himself ask "another one?"

"except i wont try to tame this one." yen says, insists that it could be the answer to their problems. "we could keep ciri safe, teach her how to use her powers, if we phrase them just right the wishes could be the thing that saves us."

the scene changes. once more, he has a seal in his hand. "i wish i had the hindsight not to get into these problems anymore." he says, because he never makes the right choice.

the dream falls away with the sunlight streaming in, bright on his face. he looks down around him, at the little family he's created; jaskier by his side, ciri's head in his lap and feet near his face, yennefer asleep on a cot with her hand on ciri's. and he decides that this time he did make the right choice. he decides that he's happy.

[just-some-random-blogger]

YN:

“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” [...] You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.

Lock him out queen. Make him beg to-... Oh nvm he has a dragon......... 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry

You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.

SHES PREGNANT?? 😭😭😭😭😭 NOW that I'm rereading this I don't think she is maybe stress eating. Or maybe that's what you WANT ME TO THINK!!!🫵🫵🫵 nah but then again later on the fic says they banged once so your honor it's just adulthood

Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm.

This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.

THE WAY I GASPED I WAS LIKE WHOOO JACAERYS WHOO WHOO

“Prince… Aemond.”

It's aemond 😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛 OF COURSE ITS AEMOND YOU DUMB FUCK YOU READ THE TAGS HEY DADDY 🥰🥰🥰🥰 HOW YOU DOIN N N

“My husband is not here.” You say, hurriedly. It’s your first instinct. You do not want that dragon of his torching your tenants.“You are welcome to check the castle and my lands, but there is no love lost between us. I assure you I am not hiding him.”

I love her. 🥺 Idk she seems so pragmatic or whatever that means HAHAHHAHAH. I love how quickly she dropped daemon too DASURV

“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. [...] “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”

Me. I ain't letting no younger person intimidate me. ALSO THE MOMMY KINK IS MOMMY KINKING AEMOND HEARD THE FIRST PART AND SAID SAY LESS LETS BANG

“Very devout.” Aemond steps closer to you, his smile widening. The way his face contorts, sharp and with too many teeth, reminds you of one of the piscivorous fishes you have seen swimming up the stream during summer. The look in their eyes is the same he sports now, right before they decide to feast on an unaware trout. “Just like us. Seems like we have a lot in common.”

🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵SEE SEE. ALSO WHY IS HE SMILING WITH HIS TEETH I DONT THINK. AEMONDS EVER DONE THAT GET BACK 🤺🤺🤺🤺 BACK DEMON 🤽‍♀️🤽‍♀️🤽‍♀️🤽‍♀️ BACK I SAY

“We do. I don’t like your husband either. [...]

Then why do you have a big ass poster of him in your room?🤨

If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, [...]

I was gonna say how she gone do that while pregnant but nvm lol

“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.

HES SO FUNNY I WANT HIM

YOU ARE on your side, Aemond thrusting into you from behind. His hand envelops your hip, greedily grasping your flesh. His other arm is under your head, serving as a pillow. For once, you are not self-conscious.

🧍‍♀️

Aemond had to convince you to get you here, and you had fumbled like a maiden every step of the way. You didn’t dare defy Daemon either. Despite your loneliness over the years, you had never taken another to your bed. No matter how tempted you had been.

DAMN GIRL GOOD FOR YOU FUCK HIM SILLY

“Did he fuck you like this?” He mouths at your ear, lightly biting. No matter how much you want to banish the thought of Daemon from your mind, Aemond doesn’t let you. It makes you feel guilty, breaking your self-imposed celibacy with your nephew in law, but he seems to get a secret thrill from it.

Holy fuck the daemon obsession goes crazy. I FEEL BAD FOR HER BECAUSE HE CLEARLY DOESNT WANT HER BECAUSE HE WANTS HER FUCKK

Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.

THE POISON DRIPS OR WHATEVER THE FUCK

“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”

🫦🫦🫦🫦 but just one though 🙄✋BAABAHAHAHHSISWKKEK

Never before had you felt like this. In your encounter with your husband, as he huffed and puffed over you, you had only felt a quick pain and a vague feeling of shame. He had focused on his pleasure first, kicking you out of bed as soon as he was done.

LOVE THAT FOR YOU BESTIE GET THAT ORGASMS YOU WERE NEVER GIVEN

“I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”

........ IS MUÑA MOM STOOOOPP NSJENSNSJSJJW

“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”

BREEDING KINK GO BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR STOPPP DAEMON HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS YET EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THIS ⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ HES NOT EVEN THERE AND YET HES EVERYWHERE GUYS HES TOO REGINA GEORGE WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH HIM

“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.

You mean seven heavens surely

Muña (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, you host a familiar face. But it is not your husband who darkens your doorstep. It is his nephew.

Warnings: Daemon haunting the narrative. Smut. Body image issues, self-esteem issues. Tully! Reader (Reddish undertone hair) Implied mommy issues. Vaginal sex. Breeding kink

A/N: I got no explanation for this. Might end up writing a part 2 if this does well.

“THERE IS a dragon at our gates.” One of your guards announces. You get up from your seat, a wave of nausea already beginning to make herself known. You would rather not face your husband. Not today. Not ever, if you are being truthful with yourself.

You have gained weight. The slim figure that you flaunted at sixteen is long gone. There is more weight in your hips and chest, a bit of softness around your middle. You know he will mock you for it.

“Open them.” You order, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable encounter. You can’t bar him entrance to what is his home too, despite him not visiting in years. “Tell him to leave the dragon there. I’ll send it some food.”

The guard bows and exits the room. One of your companions, Lady Whent, starts to pace the hall. She fears what your husband coming here might mean for you. The rumors said he had loudly proclaimed he would deal with you himself.

Your choice to keep the Riverlands out of the war effort is controversial, but predictable. Surely, no one in their right mind thought you would aid your husband install his Queen. Not even him. Not after he had left your shared home and started living in sin with her, shaming you in front of the whole realm. Yet again, no one would have called Daemon Targaryen the epitome of saneness.

You go sit on your throne, placing your embroidery aside. Your tenants are happy enough that you don’t hold court as often as the other lords. And when they are not, they still refuse to bring their problems to you unless absolutely necessary. No one wants to burden their poor lady more.

You wish they did. The days would seem less empty that way, rotting away in this castle, your house’s sigil mocking you from every corner. Family, Duty, Honor, they had promised you. None had come.

The guard comes back. You remain sitting on your throne, the one you hardly use. You intend to receive your husband from a position of power, not allow him to cower you. But when you look at the man next to the guard, your breath catches.

This man is not your husband. This man is not even one of Rhaenyra’s men.

“Lady Tully.” He says, taking a deep bow. Very respectful, which would make you doubt his relation to your husband were it not for the fact he shares his silver hair.

“Prince… Aemond.” You say, looking at his face. It’s your best guess as to his identity, considering he has a green banner and an eye patch. He wears all black, the color of House Targaryen. You stand up, and curtsy.

“My lady.”

“My husband is not here.” You say, hurriedly. It’s your first instinct. You do not want that dragon of his torching your tenants.“You are welcome to check the castle and my lands, but there is no love lost between us. I assure you I am not hiding him.”

“I know.” He answers, lips twitching into a smirk. You find nothing humorous about it, but you do not dare voice it. You do not understand what he is doing here, if not chasing after Daemon. “I understand your people… Resent him.”

“It is not our place to judge.” You say, voice firm. This man is at least ten years your junior, you will not allow him to intimidate you. No matter how he towers over you, no matter how menacing and mean his features seem. He is no Daemon Targaryen, this green boy. Your husband is the only man you had truly feared. “Only the Seven are perfect, and thus, entitled to judge others' actions.”

“Very devout.” Aemond steps closer to you, his smile widening. The way his face contorts, sharp and with too many teeth, reminds you of one of the piscivorous fishes you have seen swimming up the stream during summer. The look in their eyes is the same he sports now, right before they decide to feast on an unaware trout. “Just like us. Seems like we have a lot in common.”

You gulp. You wish you were less easy to intimidate.

“We do?”

“We do. I don’t like your husband either. The tales of his prowess have been overly exaggerated. And I do not think you are too keen on bowing to Rhaenyra, considering your marriage will be annulled.” A pair of his fingers pluck a stray curl from your up do, twirling it between his fingers. The slightly copperish undertones of it glint under the candlelight.

The threat looms in the air, uncontested by you. Both Prince Aemond and you know that Queen Rhaenyra would be dissolving your marriage as you speak, were it not for the fact that your husband and her need your lands and men for her war. Annulment in exchange for your life would be a much less cruel punishment than whatever they are cooking.

If you were a quieter woman, a less brave one, you would accept your fate. You would say your marriage had been unconsummated, that you will aid your new sovereign and your ex-husband in their war. But you won’t leave your people to their tender care. With the privileged position your lands have, they are also in the privileged position to be amongst the first to burn.

You are not so craven as to save your life in exchange for the ones of your subjects. Hence, neutrality. Hoping it will spare you. All of you.

“Do you think I want to still be married to him? After all this?” It is not enough, you see it now. With the green banner inside your hall, with the one eyed prince himself sent to rally you behind their cause. Neutrality won’t save you. You need to resist Daemon, not just sit praying he won’t attack you. The Seven know he has no such qualms.

“Perhaps we can make a widow out of you yet.” Aemond says to you, a hint of a smile making his expression turn even more menacing.

Tasting freedom on the tip of your tongue for the first time in years, you smile back.

YOU ARE on your side, Aemond thrusting into you from behind. His hand envelops your hip, greedily grasping your flesh. His other arm is under your head, serving as a pillow. For once, you are not self-conscious.

How could you be, when he had practically begged for entrance to your bed? He wanted you, and the thought of that was as thrilling as it was foreign. You hadn't broken your marriage vows ever since you took them. No man had dared voice interest, considering who your husband was.

Aemond had to convince you to get you here, and you had fumbled like a maiden every step of the way. You didn’t dare defy Daemon either. Despite your loneliness over the years, you had never taken another to your bed. No matter how tempted you had been.

When you had seen Aemond, you weren’t planning to, either. He was your good nephew, Daemon’s family. It was utterly scandalous, yet here you were.

You weren’t too sure how you had ended up into this predicament, though. One second the two of you had been making plans, your Lord Commander eager to be at his service, and the next, Aemond was crowding you against a wall and kissing you with unparalleled hunger. Your doubts had been quieted by his warm hands and eager mouth, as he forced you to writhe on his arms and try to divest him of his clothes. Perhaps he had carried you to your room then. You can’t remember, you just hope no one saw you.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He mouths at your ear, lightly biting. No matter how much you want to banish the thought of Daemon from your mind, Aemond doesn’t let you. It makes you feel guilty, breaking your self-imposed celibacy with your nephew in law, but he seems to get a secret thrill from it.

You don’t have the heart to tell him Daemon and you have only gone to bed together once. The night of your wedding.

You stay silent. His hand slides over your stomach, down to your mound. A single, long finger, slips through your folds and starts to rub circles on your pearl.

“Did my uncle ever make you peak?” Aemond asks you, still rubbing those maddening circles. You can’t think. All that is on your mind is a cloud of pleasure, warm and shameful. You shouldn’t be in bed with Daemon’s nephew. Nor should you be breaking your vows.

Aemond bites at your nape, sharply. Just like his uncle, he doesn’t take kindly to not being the center of attention.

“I asked you a question.”

“No.” You tell him, closing your eyes. Your face burns with your shame. Perhaps it is the embarrassment at your husband hating your bed so much he never visited It any longer, or perhaps it is the fact that you are breaking a vow you had really believed in. But Aemond doesn’t seem to like it, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder in an attempt to relax you.

“I'll give you one.” He promises, rubbing your pearl. His thrusting slows down, allowing the head of his member to hit deep inside you. “In my bed, you won't want for anything.”

The way he says it startles you. Dark, possessive. As if he doesn’t intend to let you go after one night, as if he intends to keep you.

“I don't belong in your bed.” You moan, trying to resist the pleasure that seems so sinful in your eyes. You clench around him despite it, not wanting him to leave your body. His free hand, the one serving as your pillow, grabs at your hair, the auburn mane as a bracelet in his pale arm. The pain of the tug only heightens your pleasure, making your body soar above the wave that threatens to crash and drag you under on the pools of hedonism.

Never before had you felt like this. In your encounter with your husband, as he huffed and puffed over you, you had only felt a quick pain and a vague feeling of shame. He had focused on his pleasure first, kicking you out of bed as soon as he was done.

But Aemond. Aemond stares at you, proud of how you unravel in his arms. He encourages you to do it, taking great delight in watching you fall apart.

“You do. With your gorgeous hair and your delicious cunt, I won't allow you to go elsewhere. You are a gift from the Mother herself.” He whispers, darkly. “I’ll worship you how you deserve, Muña.”

The last word seems to amuse him greatly, for it prompts a chuckle out of him. It’s an odd sound to hear coming from him. He seemed the kind who took himself too seriously. He licks at the shell of your ear, at your face, slobbering all over you.

It should disgust you, yet you can’t help but sigh in his arms. Surrender tastes cloyingly sweet in your mouth.

“I… Married.” You repeat, trying to get Aemond to see reason. You claw at his hands, trying to stop him from bringing you this overwhelming ecstasy that makes your body tense, and your thighs quiver. Your mind feels foggy, your wit reduced to half whimpers and softly spoken words.

“I'll wed you, and place my son on your belly.” He grins against your nape, contemplating his final triumph against Daemon. “My seed will take, where his never could. He is weak.”

“I am already married.” You repeat, a bit more firmly. Aemond laughs, rubbing at your pearl once more.

“Shhh, quiet. Quiet, Muña.” He whispers, pulling you to lie under him. He enters you in a single thrust, not giving you a moment of respite. You cry out, nails raking down his back. “I'll kill him. He is just an old man.”

You mutter something. Maybe a reply. Your lips move, incoherent, and you are screaming, the wave of pleasure finally crashing and pulling you under.

“That’s a good aunt. Squeeze your tight little cunt for me.” He grins, and you think this is it. The two of you are going to the Seven Hells.

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[gryffindormarveltwilight]

Hogwarts Champion Part 3 - Sirius Black x Reader

A/N: This part is a little bit angsty and a bit shorter as well! Next part should be up soon! As always any request, suggestions or feedback please let me know x

Masterlist

Part 2

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Fighting, Angst, Mentions of death

Time seem to fly but we finally figured our a few different ways I may be able to win this challenge, and now the day had finally arrived. I was standing in the tent with the other champions all of us as nervous as the next. Dumbledore and the Minster walked in holding a small bag and we were told to pick out which dragon we would be going up against. As the champion from the home school I selected first. I put my hand in the bag and flinched slightly as i got hit with a little bit of fire. I grabbed hold of one of the tiny dragons and lifted it out opening my hand.

The Hungarian Horntail.

I panic slightly not even noticing what the other champions got. Because i picked first the other champions when before me. I stood in the tent nervously waiting my turn. I watch as the other champions came in battered and bruised but holding the golden egg nonetheless.

“And now up against the Hungarian Horntail the Hogwarts Champion Y/N Potter!”

I take a deep breath gripping my wand tightly before stepping into the arena. I spot the golden egg sitting in the middle of the arena but cannot see the dragon anywhere. I take a step forward and pause as the dragon crashes down in front of me roaring in the process, i hear the crowd go silent as i stare at the beast maintaining eye contact. I couldnt believe it was working, we had read in the book staring at the beast and not coming across as aggressive was one way to calm a dragon down. Suddenly there was a crash in the distance one of the other dragons roared in the distance, the horntail whipped its head toward the sound then back to me.

“oh no.” I mumbled to myself.

SIRIUS POV

“Sirius!” I heard Remus call behind me.

“Moony what do you want?”

“Why are you ignoring Y/N? She already stressed about the bloody dragons and you having ignored her for so long is stressing her even more.”

“I can’t. I can’t be around her knowing she is going to get hurt.” I whisper. “And she lied to me, hid from me that she was going to enter.”

“Thats what this is about, Sirius she didn’t tell anyone.”

“She told you.”

“No i could tell by the look on her face she was going to enter and tried to stop her, you think any of us want to see her hurt!” Remus started raising his voice.

“She could have told me!”

“You would have tried to stop her!”

“She shouldn’t be doing this! Its too dangerous!”

“She needs to do this, for her.”

“For eternal glory and more money.”

“No Sirius , so she can finally feel worthy of being a Potter and a Marauder.”

“What! She is worthy whatever that means! She is the most important and valued person in the group.”

“But thats not how she feels. Her whole life she has been compared to James and his achievements! And even within our group she thinks she doesnt belong despite me always telling her she does.” I looked at Remus in shock after hearing him describe how Y/N was feeling. Our Y/N, my Y/N, the one who suggested become animagus’ to help Remus, the one who prioritises making sure we are okay before even considering if she is okay, the one who sat up with peter to prepare for exam, who stayed up with me whenever i had a nightmare or couldn’t sleep. Our Y/N who without our group would fall apart.

“I think deep down as well even if she doesn’t know it she is trying to prove that she is more than just one of the guys, she likes you Sirius I think this is her way of showing you she is more than just James’ sister. Please come tomorrow to support our best friend.” With that Remus walked away leaving Sirius with his thoughts.

Now here I am sitting in the arena, watching the girl i love stare down one of the most dangerous creatures in our world. I glanced at James and Remus who looked just as shocked at me.

“Its working,” Remus whispered and I turn back. Suddenly we hear a bang and a roar in the distance, we watch and Y/N and the dragon turn their heads toward the noise, the crowd does as well except me i keep my eyes focused on Y/N, the dragon slowly turns its head back toward her, i see her lips move but I can’t make out the words. The dragon lifts its head getting ready to breathe fire. Y/N quickly drives out of the way of the flames however the dragon whips its tailing around slamming into her body as she flys back slamming into a rock. We saw her wand land a few feet away, it looks like she is trying to catch her when the dragon turns back toward her. I scream her name as the dragon breathes another lot of fire in her direction I see her lift her hand in front of her head as she is engulfed in flames, everyone goes silent. I look at James who looks like he is about to pass out, i take a seat and put my head in my hands and James does the same thing. Remus putting his hand on our shoulders.

“LOOK!” We hear someone yell behind us. As we look up expecting to see our friend in ashes we see the fire curling around in an unnatural direction Y/N slowly pulling her self of the ground toward her wand holding her hand out infront of her a shield forming around her. She quickly grabs her wand holding her other hand out she pulls her hands back and then pushes them forward like she was pushing and invisible force and the dragon stumbled back, as the dragon tried regaining its composure so did Y/N who was stumbling in the arena making her way toward the egg, she flicked her wand though we couldnt make out what spell she used. She stumbled behind a rock shielding herself as the dragon spat fire at her again. Suddenly Y/Ns broomstick comes into sight. She times it perfectly and manages to jump on it and lift herself up out of the dragons reach, everyone in the crowd was cheering minus me remus james and peter. She swooped past the egg narrowly missing the dragons tail and the fire from its mouth which hit the end of the broom, before she flew over the top of the tent she had started in. Our eyes followed her as we watched her fall off her broom landing outside the arena.

We were quick to jump to our feet james and i running as fast as we could. When we got to the champions tent we saw madam pompfrey and minnie hovering over her.

“Is she alive?” James said holding back tears.

“We don’t know.” Minnie said as tears started streaming down my face.

[daensa]

i am gonna start posting a few thoughts i had about the show, specifically on the topic of your position in court. it's a recurring theme in ofc most nobility related stories, but that i uniquely like how its being portrayed in hotd. first i wanted to break down on alicent.

long post after the cut

this is introduced on her very first conversation with rhaenyra in eps 1. rhaenyra says she hopes for her father to have a male heir, and alicent's reaction is: aren't you worried about your position? alicent is worried about her positiong. probably by influence of her father and his own position in court and realm. otto is a second son, which means compared to the other great lords, he doesnt hold as much power and influence. yet, its very clear that otto at the very least enjoys the comfort and opportunities that his influence in the crown grants him, an idea i believe he has been passing down to his daughter, probably having her reflect on her position.

but the way this concern over position expresses itself in alicent is not, at least at this moment, for the sake of pleasure. she marries the king, probably aware that being queen is the highest position a noble woman can reach after birth, but seems to believe that is enough. she believes her position is secure, and only comes to question it again this eps.

alicent has, so far, extended her own support to rhaenyra on the line of succession, as well as the king. the possibility of her own son being made heir has only being brought up by outsiders of the family - probably internally by otto. but then her father presents the cold truth: when rhaenyra comes to the throne, alicent and her children will be the opposition, weather they put themselves on it or not. there will be men who will question rhaenyra's position, and will wish for aegon to be king instead. in that case, when rhae's position is questioned, can alicent trust her? would she feel threatened by her? so far the answer for alicent was simple: rhae is her best friend, she has nothing to fear from her, she could trust her. but when rhaenyra lies to her and alicent can't even tell the lie is being put in front her, the dynamic changes. she can no longer trust rhaenyra and her positiong, is once again, uncertain.

it's an interesting development because alicent guided by her father, believing she was securing the safest position for herself in the realm, walked right into the mouth of the dragon, and is now on the unsafest position in court. extremely volatile and ready to implode at any moment. this position could have been comfortable for many decades, if her relationship with rhae had continued to be based in trust and love. ali could hear rumors and whispers of rhae plotting against her, but she would know them to be lies, the same way that rhae could hear plots and whispers from ali, and could also know them to be lies.

it forms a sort of cold war dynamic. they both need to arm themselves up, preparing for a battle that could be avoidable and never to come, if there was still trust amongst themselves. the fate of the dance is that from the point of view of every character, their actions are reactionary, none of them are truly taking the first step to war. its a complexity involving our failures to put ourselves in others positions, because we are too blind and concerned about defending our own. also meta in a fandom sense lol.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

leaves

this started as a hc but turned into a long thing about geralt being a huge softie.  enjoy.

___

jaskier collects leaves that he thinks are pretty during the fall and presses them in his song writing notebook so he can look at them during the winter when all the leaves are gone. and, he'd never admit this to anyone, but he knows exactly where each leaf came from, and what he and geralt were doing when he found them, so they help him stay close to geralt in the cold months when he's away at kaer morhen.

geralt doesnt understand the fascination cause “they're just leaves jaskier” and gets kinda grumpy when jaskier walks extra slow during the fall to admire and inspect the leaves. but he secretly enjoys the way that jaskiers face lights up in front of their camp fire at night as he shows geralt each leaf he collected that day and tucks them safely into the pages of his notebook. 

jaskier used to show them to roach to inspect but after she ate a particularly beautiful one on accident he does not allow her anywhere near his precious leaves.

one year jaskier and geralt part ways a little earlier than normal, geralt deciding to begin the trek to kaer morhen sooner than he normally would due to a lack of contracts so jaskier goes to oxenfurt earlier as well. the leaves are just beginning to change color as they part ways. 

a few nights into the journey geralt is making camp for himself and roach when he sees a bright red leaf sitting on the forest floor, exactly the kind of leaf that jaskier would pick up and admire and wax poetry about before tucking it into his notebook. but jaskier isn't there, and geralt feels a little pang. he glares at the leaf the entire time he's setting up camp. 

the camp fire has burned down to the embers by the time geralt is ready to lay out his bed roll, but he can still see the leaf at the corner of his vision. he sighs and gets up, knowing that it will continue to bother him unless he does something about it. he picks up the leaf, brushes off the dirt far more lightly than he would ever care to admit, and goes to tuck it in to his saddle bag in the roll of parchment he keeps on the off chance he has to write a letter. 

roach snorts at him. “shut up,” he mutters back. “its just a leaf.” roach nuzzles his arm. “no, i don't miss him. im just...bringing him a souvenir. we had to part early this year.” another snort. “yes, i know you know. but he didn't get to see the leaves this year. i don't want him to be disappointed.” roach headbuts him as if to say, you dumb witcher. geralt ignores this, but gives her some nice pats before retiring to his bedroll. 

in the next town geralt buys a random book. he doesnt know what it is, he bought the cheapest one he could find. but he's not going to read it, he just needs something to keep jaskiers leaf in so it doesnt crumble to bits before the spring. he swears roach laughs at him for that. 

throughout his trip up to kaer morhen, geralt finds himself progressively walking slower, taking time to admire the leaves as the bard had once done. 

he picks up the second leaf a week later after a battle with some drowners. he’s heading back into the town, having come across his first contract in weeks, holding the head and covered in river muck and guts when he sees a perfectly yellow leaf on the ground in front of him. he picks it up gingerly, trying his very best not to get guts on it (and he nearly succeeds). if the alderman thinks its weird, a witcher coming back with a drowner head in one hand and a yellow maple leaf in the other, he doesnt say anything. roach does tho, whinnying the second she sees it in geralts hand. he ignores her, and presses the maple leaf into the book a few pages after the brilliant red one. 

after that he adds to the collection more frequently. an reddish oak leaf he finds on the ground outside of a tavern, a brilliant orange leaf he finds at his campsite, a yellowish orange leaf the size of his face that he finds along the road and so on. roach makes fun of him every time he reaches for the book, but geralt ignores her. they're merely souvenirs for jaskier, nothing more. 

collecting leaves slows him down considerably, but he cant bring himself to care. he's even disappointed when the last of the leaves disappear and the first snow sets in. 

but that doesnt stop him from collecting things to add to his book. he gathers different small pine branches, holly leaves and other things that he knows jasper has never seen before because they grow too far north. he becomes so caught up in his hunt for interesting plants that the snow is already falling thickly by the time he reaches kaer morhe, despite him leaving for the keep so early. eskel and lambert chide him for being late, but he ignores them, happy that he managed to fill most of the book with leaves for jaskier.

that whole winter the book remains in the bottom of geralts pack, wrapped carefully in his spare shirt. he thinks about it often, but doesnt dare bring it out for fear that one of his brothers will catch him and make fun of him for being a sap. he's not a sap, he just found some leaves for his friend. 

winter drags on far too long in geralts opinion and leaves as soon as the passes are clear, antsy to get back to his friend and give him the book. but on his way down he discovers yet another beautiful thing that jaskier would love: wildflowers. roach is slightly more appreciative of this because wildflowers are things that she is allowed to eat. geralt often feeds her them to see if she approves. if she spits it out or refuses to eat it, then it doesnt make it into the book.

in the space he has left in the book he fills it with wildflowers, sometimes going out of his way to collect them. there are buttercups, dandelions, little blue ones the color of jaskiers eyes, poppies, apple blossoms, daffodils, and even a few rose petals that he buys from a stall in a market. the book is brimming with nature now. he has to be careful not to lose any of his treasures. 

finally, he arrives at his and jaskiers meeting spot. he stables roach who gives him a headbut of encouragement and he grabs the book carefully wrapped in his shirt before he makes his way to the tavern, suddenly very nervous. 

jaskiers voice is already wafting out of the tavern as he draws closer, having beat geralt to the meeting spot for once, and geralt hesitantly steps inside, knowing jaskiers eyes will be on him the second he goes in. he’s overcome with thoughts, what if jaskier hates it? what if he thinks it's dumb? what if he laughs at him? 

he enters anyway, because he's a witcher for fucks sake and he can handle his friends scrutiny. immediately he sees jaskier, sitting in the corner, working a crowd. as always, jaskiers eyes snap to him the second he steps foot in the tavern and he winks. geralt gives him the smallest nod and heads to his table in the corner after ordering an ale. he tucks the book out of sight on the bench next to him. 

minutes later jaskier barrels over, eyes bright with the life of the crowd he had been entertaining. 

“geralt!” he exclaims. “finally. i thought you stood me up, you big oaf. i never make it here before you do, i thought you may have been eaten! although im not sure by what exactly, i don't know what species has a taste for witches, dragons maybe? well never mind, youre here now and you better have a good excuse for being so late, even im starting to get bored of this town and you know how i love towns...”

geralt smiles into his ale, he missed this, but he'd never admit it. his eyes flick over to the book sitting on the seat beside him, unsure whether or not he should give it to him. 

jaskier, being the observant fucker he is, notices. “geralt what do you have on the seat there? is it a monster head? you know what happened last time you tried to hide a monster head in a tavern, i thought the town would chase us out with pitchforks they were so angry! surely you wouldn't-”

“here.” geralt mutters, cutting him off, unwilling to listen to that horrible story. 

jaskier stares at the lump of black fabric on the table. “geralt, why are you giving me your shirt? its not really my style, i’m not one for black really, makes my skin look too pale.”

“open it.” he says into his ale. 

jaskier does, and stares at the book dumbfounded. “a history book? geralt you know that i am a master of the seven liberal arts, im a professor at oxenfurt! i have all these boring books in the library, i didn't need you to get me one, although it is very thoughtful of you to- oh”

geralt, tired of hearing jaskiers babbling, flips open the book, revealing the bits of nature he had spent their time apart collecting. jasper is silent, which geralt takes as a bad sign. maybe roach was right, maybe he didn't like it, maybe he'd wasted his time for nothing. 

“cause you....you didn't get to see...the leaves this year,” he mutters, looking into the tavern, unable to see the inevitable disappointment on jaskiers face. 

“oh, geralt,” jaskier whispers. “you collected all of these for me?”

geralt doesnt say anything, but his silence is enough. 

“this is why you were late. you were collecting these, for me.”

“its okay if you don't..like them” geralt bites out. 

“oh no no no no, geralt, they're wonderful.” 

geralt looks at jaskier and sees him touching the pine branch he took form the trees outside kaer morhen, tears brimming in his eyes. “you don't hate it?”

“no, love.” jaskier smiles softly. “i adore it. and i adore you. and id love it if you tell me about all of them, please.”

for the first time in years geralt feels something like a smile tugging at his lips and he picks up the pine branch from jaskiers hand, telling him how it came from the tree outside his window, the one that he looked at everyday as a kid growing up. the same tree that lambert once dared him to climb and he nearly did before being spotted by vesemir and scolded at. jasper laughs and sniffs the pine carefully before placing the branch back in the book. 

they pour over the book for hours at their table in the tavern. geralt cant remember the last time he's talked this much, much less about himself of all things, but jaskier is more than happy to listen. 

__

if you want to be tagged in future works of mine shoot me an ask !!

[corruptedconfessions]

I need more yandere dragon bakugou please 🥺 like him taking y/n from the village after seeing her in the woods a lot and he Just falls in love with her and he makes her a comfy nest and she wakes up there scared hopefully you could do something with that please ❤️

Hhh I love this ask sm

Also I know the ask said she here but this is still gender neutral! I didn’t really realize until after I had written the whole thing, sorry :x It doesnt really effect the drabble or anything at all, though!

I mostly just rambled, but theres a short drabble under the line~

If you pestered him later down the line he would blame the fact that he took you on mating season, blaming you for wondering out and about so close to a dragons den during such a fragile time, practically begging for him to swoop in and take you. 

The truth was the dragon had been aching for a mate for quite a long time, and mating season had just caused that hole in his chest to grow even larger, a soul deep ache that he felt every waking moment. 

Almost mindlessly he had started nesting for the first time since he had left his mothers side and embarked out on his own, pillaging villages for their finest silks and softest furs, it became more frequent for him to completely black out, come back to dripping in human blood with arrows wedged into his scales, tenderly tucking his latest plush prize tenderly into the side of his nest, ever so careful with his large talons. 

His mother had always told him he would know when it was time. He had scoffed and rolled his eyes at her but now her words were starting to make sense. 

Still he couldn’t help the creeping anxiety that bubbled under his skin every time he looked at his nest that was growing with every day, it wasn’t a typical dragons nest, hell he wasn’t sure if any dragon would even like it. It was soft, plush, warm, things that no dragon needed. They could regulate their own body temperatures, and their thick scales meant they needed no protection from hard ground, even when sleeping. No dragon he took as a mate would be impressed with his nest, and that ate at him silently as mating season officially started, causing him to slip even further into his feral headspace even more frequently, lashing out and slaughtering anything that came close to his den, too scared to venture out to look for another dragon despite the soul deep ache that ate away at him. 

He spent many nights curled up in the very nest that was the source of his insecurity, curled up in his half shifted form, rubbing his human cheek against the soft furs that lined his nest, comforting himself as he curled up, shame bubbling under his skin. He was left wondering how after everything, every instinct, every move coming easy to him, why now this of all things was wrong. Why was he like this?

His answer came one day when he had dragged himself out of his cave to hunt for his dinner, refusing to starve to death even if moving was the most difficult thing to do. He wanted to go back to his nest, to curl up in that brief comfort and go to sleep. He had dragged himself through the woods, snapping up small game easily, searching for something more substantial when his eyes fell on you.

Instantly he knew he had to have you. He was struck, frozen as he took you in, his head immediately swirling with the desire to take, and breed, and mark, and claim. Instantly everything all made sense, his sudden softness, the strange nest, his weird emotions. It had all been leading him to you! That had to be the answer! Everything had been leading him up to this moment, to making sure he was prepared to take on not a dragon as a mate but a human. 

Any rational thought was left behind him as he immediately lunged for you, your frightened screams falling on deaf ears as he scooped you up in his claws, ever so careful not to hurt you despite his excitement. Unable to wait a moment longer, with a beat of his wings he launched himself, and by extension you, into the air, immediately taking off to his den with energy he hadn’t had since this god awful season had started. 

The trip would be quick with the speed he would fly at, and he would waste no time transforming back, cradling you in his arms bridal style as he immediately rushes you back to his nest, practically thrumming with excitement as he immediately tucks your unconscious body, you must have passed out on the flight over whoops, into his nest, growling with possessive approval at the sight of you. Face relaxed into sleep, peacefully tucked into /his/ nest, the very picture of beauty...

And he’ll never let you leave.

While Bakugo was anything from soft and comforting, every time he tucked you into his nest, swaddling you in the soft furs and resting your head on precious silks, he was oddly gentle. All his screaming and protective fronts he put on melted away as he curled up next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and stretching out his wing to cover you like a blanket as a rough tongue dragged across your cheeks, lapping away your salty tears as he burrowed closer to you, a soothing rumble that could almost be mistaken for a purr vibrating out of his chest as he nuzzled and licked at you till you fell asleep, still shaking slightly in his arms. 

Lets just hope you’re little scared outbursts stop before mating season wears off and he’s no longer dopy and happy no matter what as long as you are in his nest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wings spreading out to slow his decent the dragon shifter’s bones snapped and cracked into place as his form shrunk, turning less and less lizard and more and more human as he hit the ground. If it weren’t for the large golden wings arched out behind him, the horns sprouting from his head, the claws that stuck out from his fingers and toes, and the patches of scales that dotted his skin, he could almost pass as the same creature as the human carefully cradled in his grip. Cradling you close he stepped into his cave, walking in deep, past his impressive horde, past the remains of his previous meals, deeper and deeper until only the slightest hints of daylight could still be seen. 

Humans never did well in the dark...he would have to light some lanterns for you so you wouldn’t become upset and frightened. He didn’t need those negative feelings tainting the comfort of his nest he had so carefully made just for you! Sure, he hadn’t known it at first, but it only made sense!! Nothing was wrong with him, he couldn’t be the one that was fucked up! He just wasn’t destined for a human mate and his instincts knew that!! They made sure he had a safe comfy place to put his mate!!

Ever so carefully he lowered his mate into his...and his mates nest. The thought filled him with so much joy he couldn’t even bring himself to be upset that they were unconscious and couldn’t lavish him in praise over how perfect his nest was for them...

Although that was mildly his fault. He always forgets how fragile humans are, and he hadn’t exactly been careful as he shot in the air. He gotten so excited he forgot how pathetic and fragile humans could be...he would have to make sure to be more careful in the future. 

Pulling a fur over you, making sure you were tucked into the nest in just the right way that had him purring contently, he tripled checked that you weren’t going to wake before carefully stepping out of the nest, moving to light candles around it, making sure they were far away enough there was no chance for his little mate to burn themselves or accidently knock them over and start a fire. 

Just as he finished filling the cave with warm gentle lighting the soft shuffling in his nest, soft intake of breathing that told him his little mate was about to wake up. Instantly he was practically clambering over himself to see you, laying on his side next to you as his eyes locked onto your face, waiting excitedly for you to wake. 

His heart nearly skipped a beat as your beautiful eyes fluttered open, locking onto him. Immediately your face tensed up into an expression he recognized, one he frequently saw on those stupid humans faces before he killed them, it was always followed by the most annoying noises. 

Before you could get the air to scream a clawed hand was slapped over your mouth, the dragon infront of you raising up to glare at you, lips curling back slightly to reveal sharp stained teeth, glowing under the warm light of the lanterns. 

“Don’t you dare.”

His voice was ragged, a low husky rumble, his hand over your mouth tightening enough that the tips of his claws pressed against your skin, threatening to break it. Tears welled in your eyes as you desperately nodded in agreement, trying to shuffle backwards only to be stopped by the huge pile of furs and clothes, trapping you in. 

Luckily as soon as you nodded you’re agreement the angered snarl relaxed into a warm fuzzy grin, the hand pulling away as he purred softly, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulled you closer, a wet tongue dragging itself over your cheek as he nuzzled himself against you with a soft pleased rumble.

“Good human.”

If only you had stayed away from the woods. 

[sablesides-writing-corner]

I Kinda Wanna See A Ficlet Where Romans Fairy Godmother And The Dragon Witch Fake Their Divorce In Front Of The Kid!Creativitwins And Years Later They Find Out That They’re Still Married Because DW Couldn’t Get The Ring Off Of Her Dragon Fingers,,

Elizabeth was never all that fond of misleading her 'hatchlings' as Belladonna called the young twins, but alas even a fairy godmother had to have fun once and a while.

So there Elizabeth was, braiding blue pink and white flowers into Belladonna's shiny black hair, when she noticed the smirk on her loving wife's face.

"Is there something on your mind dear?" Elizabeth said, placing a kiss on Belladonna's cheek.

"I've had the most dastardly idea little sugarplum," Belladonna said, flexing her newly painted nails and checking to see if they were dry.

"And what might that be my mistress of misery?" Elizabeth continued as she finished braiding the last flower into her wife's hair.

"I dont suppose you have anything you'd be mad at me over my lovely willow wisp?" Belladonna continued, examining the ring on her finger.

"I could make something up I'm sure, our little hatchlings dont get their creativity from nowhere," Elizabeth said, tracing her wife's broad shoulders with her fingertips.

Little had they known that the imagination itself seemed to have ideas of its it's own. Elizabeth awoke the next morning, not with Belladonna's arms around her, in their treehouse home that Belladonna had built for the two of them.

Of course, Elizabeth didnt show any sign of disappointment around Roman, he'd bought the ploy hook line and sinker, and what with all the sudden changes, Elizabeth didnt think such a revelation would be helpful at the moment.

So she hid her ring, on a necklace that she kept under the neckline of her clothing.

She didnt see Belladonna except in dragon form now, and even then was told to stay behind while her own son fought his own mother.

It was like this until the twins were adults, they'd grown further and further apart. They still were, but something had happened in the mindscape that had caused some part of their bond to mend itself.

Elizabeth hadnt noticed it at first, Roman's side of the kingdom had seemed completely normal. But then she saw the flash of a tail disappearing in the market place.

She chased after Belladonna, nearly tripping on all sorts of things in the process, until the two met in a clearing.

"Bella?. . ." Elizabeth said softly, holding a hand out to the girl.

Belladonna's eyes were slitted, she didnt seem to recognize Elizabeth at first. So Elizabeth did the only thing she could think of, brought out her ring.

And then she was in her wife's arms again, halfway off the ground and spinning through the air.

"See! I told you she still had it to!" Remus' voice sounded from a nearby bush. Belladonna dropped Elizabeth back to the ground, the latter looking around for her other son.

"Well she always has the necklace hidden! Excuse me if I thought it was personal! Which by the way it was!" Roman said as he stepped out next to his brother.

"And may we ask what brought this on you two?" Elizabeth said, ruffling the twins hair.

"DW still had the ring on her finger in dragon form so I asked about it and she told me about the prank and since Roman doesnt actively think I'm terrible anymore I told him so we lured you out here but DW's gone mildly feral so she didnt recognize you and then you showed her the ring and then we came out of the bushes and the-" Roman slapped a hand over Remus' mouth, quickly snatching it back with a disgusted expression.

"Did you just lick my hand!" Roman said.

"It tastes like Virgil's hairdye!" Remus said gleefully, Roman blushed.

"Alright, you caught us, it was a prank, we hadnt accounted for a divide of the imagination of course, that was rather unfortunate," Elizabeth said, biting a nail slightly.

"Well the important thing is it's nearly normal again! Which meeeeeaaaannnnnnsssss-" Belladonna let out a roar, the twins and Elizabeth took off running in the woods, content to be able to play their games together again.

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

Tag list:

@nerosdayinhell

@meowthefluffy

@a-deceit-salad

@softestpatton

@noodle---doodle

[roughentumble]

a while ago i had the idea for an AU where geralt's mind is sortve sent back in time to right before the dragon fight, and he makes different choices at key junctures as a sort of fix-it fic. i agonized over it for a while, then it lay languishing and forgotten in my notes app, so im deciding to publish it as is, which will either encourage me to finish it, or at least put what exists out in the universe.

also he doesnt really Remember he's time traveled, he just gets Vibes at key points

tagging @fangirleaconmigo because she expressed interest in the idea way back when i first had it!

-------

geralt wakes up in a daze.

there's something on the tip of his tongue-- like when you don't remember a dream, but you remember the shape of it. he fights to recall it, because it seems so big, so important, as the last strands slip through his fingers. his body wills him to stand up, and so he does, as if he could chase the fragments that way, but moving only seems to dislodge them further. he doesnt even recall falling asleep. he sees-- jaskier, a few feet away with his back to him, far enough he'd have to call out to be heard, and everything is hazy as he stumbles over, some sort of need he cant name thrumming under his skin. he could get angry about it, or-- or...

he places a hand on jaskier's shoulder, and jaskier whips around in surprise, blinking owlishly at him. he starts to say something, brow furrowed with concern and sympathy, but geralt cuts him off with a squeeze of his shoulder. "i think you were right. we should go to the coast."

concern gives way to joy, like the sun breaking through the clouds, lighting up his entire face. "you-- really? actually, you'd want that? what caused the change of heart, did you whack your head or something?" he waves his hand in dismissal, keeps speaking before geralt can interject. "doesn't matter, really, what matters is that you did. i'll pack my things right away, and we can load up dear old roach, and i can compose a stunning ballad out of this whole mess because i am a miracle worker, and-- oh you'll just /love/ the coast i'm /certain/ of it! fine wine and pearls and the salty sea stretching out forever over the horizon, and the sunsets, oh! to die for, truly!"

perhaps he did hit his head. there's dirt in his hair, more than usual, and he doesnt think he woke up in a bedroll... but he can't find it in himself to care. it all came out so easy, and something about it had felt right. he reaches out to take jaskier's hand in his own, and jaskier only trips over his words for a moment, glancing down at them in confusion, then smiling even brighter, if that was even possible. that feels right, too. in the same way he cant put his finger on. he'll examine it later, when he's a little more awake. for now he just pulls jaskier gently by the hand towards camp, so he can do that packing he was talking about.

they leave the mountain, and the cursed dragon hunt, behind, without much fanfare or a word to the others.

===========

he doesnt like the coast much, as it turns out. sand isnt great for poor roach's hooves, salt sticks in his long hair making it unmanagable, and the large swath of ocean in front of him makes him edgy in a way he doesnt want to put a name to, because geralt of rivia does not /do/ being afraid. it's all logic, is what it is, giant sea monsters lurk in those depths, and surely no witcher is equipped to deal with their likes. a certain healthy cautiousness makes sense, he reasons.

he likes jaskier at the coast, though.

happy and free, laughing, backlit by the sun, sand on his cheek and pants rolled up to the knee. fancy shoes dangling from his fingers.

/foolish bard/, he thinks, stepping closer, brushing away the sand, /foolish, silly little bard, never brings the proper footwear anywhere we go./ out loud he says "i'm in love with you."

he watches closely the play of emotions across jaskier's face, the joy morphing into shock, disbelief, mouth gawping open like a fish. in the next moment he's dropped those fancy shoes to grab geralt's head, yanking him down into a kiss that's equal parts frenzy and passion and finally coming home. they kiss until the water laps up to their ankles, arms tangled around each other.

the incoming waves claim just one of jaskier's fancy, impractical shoes, and he curses the sea, running into the water as if he could fish the thing out, or else batter the sea into compliance. geralt laughs, and laughs, and pulls jaskier from the salty sea to kiss him again, and again, and again, even as he complains about his lost shoe. "you'll be compensating me for that, witcher." he warns, shaking his finger.

"wouldn't have it any other way," geralt responds, breathless with joy, and jaskier sinks into his grip.

========

"i want you to come with me. to kaer morhen."

jaskier stares at him with open-mouth. it isnt an offer given lightly. even in all their years of on-again off-again, geralt never extended this particular invitation to yennefer. maybe he was too scared of being known, or too scared of being trapped in one place-- if things went sour when they couldnt just leave, would it go away for ever? she's gone away forever anyway, for all his clinging and carefully calculated space. she said no, and he found-- he found--

years he's spent, dragging his feet. years, and with jaskier it's so old and yet so new, and he's decided that he is sick of the waiting, of the right pace. he wants jaskier with him, now and always. "this winter, the two of us. up in the blue mountains."

jaskier is nodding before geralt can finish speaking, tears welling in his eyes. "i want that too, love. gods, you know i'd follow you anywhere." and then he laughs, free and joyful and it's the best sound geralt's ever heard in his life. jaskier reaches out, touches his cheek, like he's confirming this is real, and geralt leans into his space to press their foreheads together. inhales the scent of his tears mingled with pure joy, and it smells like the ocean.

=================

they keep heading south, because it isnt time to head north yet, and because geralt's got a feeling he'd really like to disprove. can't explain where it comes from, exactly, just that he feels a tug, senses a rumbling in the earth, hears whispers on the streets. he climbs the rocky outcropping while jaskier waits by roach, idle and bored. he wants to be wrong. wants it so badly he hasnt even shared his theory with jaskier. he looks out over the path below.

he is not wrong.

a sea of black and gold. cintra is the gateway to the rest of the north, and it's about to fall.

============

he tells jaskier to wait in the marketplace. if this works, geralt will be able to meet him there without injury, or at least be able to send someone to fetch him. if it doesnt, he'll need to resort to drastic measures, which should put him in jaskier's path too. he's grateful for this decision when he ends up surrounded on all sides by calanthe's men-- he has no doubt jaskier would be able to extract himself from the danger as he always does, but he still doesnt like seeing it. he holds a knife to the throat of an old friend, and wonders why it feels familiar. wishes that it didnt.

when they fall through the portal, dodging calanthe's trap, jaskier is far enough away from their stall that he doesn't hear the commotion-- presumably, anyway. geralt wishes he could see him, just to confirm he was safe, confirm he actually made it, but he's too preoccupied to linger on the thought.

[transcribe partial convo]

[bars part w/ eist]

finally jaskier has wandered close enough to notice the commotion, and he calls for geralt

[geralt pleads for jaskier's safety, appeals to eist as a reasonable man, as someone who mightve once been called a friend. says he understands eist's commitment to calanthe, but begs him not to doom jaskier by throwing him in the dungeons when he's harmless. jaskier doesnt much like this, but eventually eist agrees, as a favor to someone he respects and as someone who can see reason. geralt makes jaskier promise to stay in his room no matter what happens, and they clasp hands before jaskier is dragged back from the bars]

[maybe describe getaway, but idk if needed]

============

"this is cirilla. ciri, this is--"

"ah-ah, let me do my own introductions, i get to say it so rarely, after all." he says, cutting geralt off and turning to ciri. his shoulders roll back, posture straightening, carrying himself with a sudden air of gravitas. "my name is julian alfred pancratz, viscount de lettenhove. graduate of oxenfurt, master of the seven liberal arts, and esteemed poet and minstrel, better known throughout the kingdoms as the famed bard jaskier. at your service." he bows deeply, a fluid, graceful movement, and when he comes back up he looks rather pleased with himself.

there's a beat of silence. "...my partner." geralt finishes his earlier statement, eyebrow raised and thoroughly unimpressed. ciri mostly just seems surprised. "don't worry, you get used to the chatter."

jaskier splutters, cheeks turning red in offense. "you! that was a perfectly lovely introduction, you

[bicker] i dont know why i put up with you [bicker]

[something abt the moment of levity, but then geralt is saying "we need to go to sodden hill, [why] i think yen is there and i need to find her", then the moment when geralt realizes she is (presumed) dead where jaskier's playful insults fall away]

============

[noticing eskel, gets feeling he needs to check, finds out abt infection, etc etc]

============

[change vesemir pov]

he doesnt think these flowers are the answer. he doesnt recognize them-- though if he knew every part of the formula, it wouldnt be lost to him as well. still, though, it doesnt sound right to his ear, even if he doesnt know as much about flora as one might if they'd dedicated their life to the study of it. he can imagine, though, being desperate enough to believe it. he thinks back to eskel, and how they'd almost lost him to such a stupid error. he feels the loss of their way of life, their traditions, weighing on his shoulders in a way he never thought he'd face in his lifetime.

the little scrap of paper in her hand is so innocuous. and even if it's wrong, or merely an approximation of what once was, he feels the need to keep it, to catalogue it, preserve it as he has everything else in the keep... even the unsavory ones. the metal rack so many boys died on, that countless others were changed in, /chained/ in, sitting in the basement like it's a coffee table. like it's nothing. like it isnt horrific.

but it's all he has. and it's what they needed.

his fingers curl around the paper. "how many other people know of this blossom? would be likely to put two and two together?" he asks.

"not many at all, i would imagine. even fewer would know how to apply the knowledge , or emough inner workings of witchers to make the leap. and it's only a theory, anyway, i cant confirm it as of yet." she replies, watching him closely.

their numbers, so weakened, so devastated. the continent is running out of monsters, but it hasnt run dry just yet-- witchers are still needed, and theyre dwindling. and yet...

he flicks his fingers, and the page goes up in flames. a little cast of igni, and suddenly the secret is unknown once more. "cant let anyone know how we're made-- sorcerers have been after the information for as long as there have been witcher schools. no telling what havoc they'd wreak across the continent if they had the recipe. and... there will be no more boys."

he looks at the ashes in his hand, and he aches in ways he doesnt have words for, for the life he had and the men he lost and all those boys. "i thank you for your diligence, and your offer," he says diplomatically, "but i urge you to forget what you've discovered, and tell no one. and if you do decide to divulge our secrets, then i can only pray your approximations were wrong."

she had looks surprised when the fire burst to life, but understanding settles across her features.

[keytothenorth]

I’m sorry but it just makes me so mad when people are like

“I hate Sansa! She’s a power-hungry b*tch who only cares about being queen! She shouldn’t have questioned Jon in front of everyone..watch her betray him in s8.”

Like, first of all, every other lord questions Jon, but when Sansa does it suddenly she’s undermining him? Lyanna Mormont argues against Jon’s plans to travel to Dragonstone because “We need the King in the North in the north,” and fans love her for it, but when Sansa’s like “our family members have literally died traveling south, it’s too dangerous” then Sansa’s annoying for questioning him?

Secondly, D*ny’s sole driving force in the entire series is her want for the throne she believes she’s entitled to, declaring herself queen of a country she’s only just stepped foot on in the last season. But Sansa stepping up to the plate in Jon’s absence (as he asked her to), ruling justly as the Lady of Winterfell, and just wanting equal respect for her part in taking back the North suddenly makes her power-hungry?

Littlefinger questions Sansa’s happiness, assuming she’s not happy because she wants the throne.

Arya questions her motives, believing Sansa’s actions are only based on her want for the throne. But Sansa denies it, because everything she’s done since her father was murdered has been to survive. Everything she’s done since Theon told her Bran and Rickon aren’t dead has been to keep herself and her family safe.That’s her motivation.

And so what if she does want the same recogniztion that her brother has been given? Sansa is the trueborn daughter of Ned Stark/key to the north/future of house stark who pushed Jon to help fight for their home, yet he gets named King in the North and she’s just some advisor (who apparently isn’t allowed to advise him)?

D*ny’s whole thing is being the feminist queen/prince-or-princess-who-was-promised, and that’s great. She’s a celebrated character, because it’s refreshing to see the journey of a Queen in a King’s world. This post isn’t me putting down her character, though. Or Lyanna’s, or Arya’s. It’s me trying to understand why they’re beloved feminist icons but viewers don’t like Sansa, a character who recognizes the unfair patriarchal standards in Westeros and the way they’ve been used to hurt her, because she used to like nice things when she was a child? Because she wanted her life to be like a song? Because she did what she had to do to survive?

We’ve watched Sansa’s journey as a Queen in a world of those who believe the only strong female characters are those who ride a dragon or wield a sword.

Sansa’s a good ruler all on her own, and though she wishes the Lords of Westeros (and viewers!) would put some respect on her name, she’ll also put her own wishes and feelings aside to survive and keep those around her safe. She doesnt want to fight with her family anymore, because she knows that they can’t fight a war amongst themselves. She knows that ruling is more than a chair you feel entitled to.

She knows that the lone wolf dies.

[dark0angel13]

Check Mate

Okay everyone, here is part 2! From here on is NSFW so please be aware of that. I do hope you like it! ;)

START

His eyes widen, his nostrils flair; Lucy knows she has him right where she wants him. All it takes is a little seduction and he’s putty in her hands. He takes a deep breath in and motions for her to make her move.

She needs to focus now, losing is not an option, she decides with a spark in her eye. If it wasn’t a game of chess she wouldn’t mind really. Stripping for Natsu and getting laid for it? It’s a win, win. She just doesn’t want to lose to him. Levy she could accept because the little blue mage was a genius, but Natsu? Not a snowflake’s chance in hell.

She moves expertly, her fingers dragging her rook to capture his bishop; only after making sure she won’t lose it. He grimaces and leans in, bringing a hand to his chin. In one swift movement, he takes a pawn and leans back with a smirk on his face. Damn him and his smile. She should have been more specific at which pieces he needed to capture.

“I captured a pawn, start stripping.” His words are confident, husky, and makes breathing hard.

With shaky hands she removes both her shoes and socks, narrowing her eyes in amusement when Natsu huffs from across the table.

“That’s not what I had in mind.”

“You didn’t specify the order in which I had to strip.” She winks and holds up her shoes, dropping them with a smirk playing about her face; chuckling when they hit the floor with a thud.

“It’s you’re turn.” He sounds aggravated but she can see the amusement playing behind his eyes. She makes her move, taking one of his pawns.

The game moves quickly, and piece by piece her pawns fall until she’s clad in her bra and panties and her confidence wavers. Natsu is never this focused, not unless it’s a fight. He’s never even shown an interest in strategy games, so why now? Why was he beating her at a game she’s never lost at? She can’t fathom it.

“Just two more pieces…” his eyes are grazing her figure as he speaks and she feels the heat rush to her cheeks. This side of Natsu, this unknown part of him turns her on so much she almost says fuck it and jumps him. Almost. They’re standing as they play now, the tension hanging in the air like smoke while they fight for a winner.

“Good luck, you’ve only managed to capture my pawns.” She counters with a smirk when he looks to his side of the graveyard. She too has most of his pawns and a couple of his bigger pieces but it’s still anyone’s game; she’s not going to lose.

He steps closer now, his eyes bringing a flush to her skin, and when he raises a hand to her cheek her knees feel weak. His touch is soft, delicate even, and she finds herself leaning into him. A piece moves, his hand trails down and a finger hooks into her bra, pulling gently until she gets the idea. Her hands move swiftly, unclasping the metal at her back and the garment is falling.

If it hits the ground, she doesn’t hear it for the only thing ringing in her ears is the pounding of her pulse. Her breath quickens when his fingers trail up and graze her nipple; she bites her lip to keep a moan in.

“One to go.” His lips are at her neck while his hands roam her body; stopping only when they meet the fabric of her panties and she is having a hard time thinking, let alone playing.

She whimpers slightly but manages to capture his last remaining knight, sucking in a breath when his lips trail down to engulf her nipple. A moan escapes her this time and her hands tangle in his messy pink locks.

He doesn’t move much, coming up to kiss her before turning and watching the board. She uses his distracted expression to lean into him and drag her hand gently across the bulge in his pants. He stiffens and sucks in a breath and she smirks. It’s about time she gets even.

She watches the desire race across his eyes but he doesn’t look away from the board, instead bringing his rook to capture her bishop.

She doesn’t have time to react before he’s before her, his teeth latching onto the last piece of clothing on her; slowly dragging them down her legs until she can step out of them. He grips her hips tightly, his mouth so close to the coarse hair of her pelvic region that she can feel his breath. She braces herself agains the table when he drags his tongue up her thigh, her stomach, her breast; her neck before claiming her mouth in a heated kiss. Her hands are fumbling with the button on his jeans and after a flick of her wrist, he’s free and scorching her hand with the heat radiating from him.

“Don’t tease me Luce.” He groans into her mouth and she smirks, gripping his member with enough force to make him shiver, but not too tight that it hurts him. She drags her hand down the shaft before trailing it back up and running her thumb over the tip. His body stiffens and she feels him thrust into her hand.

“You seem to enjoy teasing me,” she coos, “it’s only fair I return the favor.”

He moves fast, spreading her legs and piercing her with two of his fingers. Electricity races down her spine and she arches her back, a moan coming from her lips as she digs her nails into his back. Her body is on fire; the ball in her stomach winding tighter with each thrust of his fingers and she can only match his pace with her hand on him. He’s breathing hard, thrusting into her touch in an animalistic manner before her words, albeit shaky, echo in the room.

“W-we have a game to finish…Natsu.” His name comes out in a moan when he curls his finger inside her and white flashes on the edges of her vision. She doesn’t really want to finish the game though. All she wants to do is fuck him until she can’t feel her legs. She widens her stance to give him better access, and with her new position, a new form of pleasure rips through her like a current. The shock of him hitting that one spot over and over, brings unintelligible words from her lips. She’s so close now, needing only a few more thrusts from him to chase the orgasm right in front of her.

Natsu, it seems has other plans though, leaving her at the edge of ecstasy to pull back and kiss her, his hands removing hers from his penis. She can feel the pleasure receding and she wants to scream; a huff coming from her instead.

“Why did you stop, I was so close?” Her words come out in a desperate whimper and he smirks, turning back to the board.

“We need to finish the game.” He answers matter of fact, like its as simple as that, and she is so close to screaming. She’s so close to throwing the game across the room and mounting him right there on the table, that her fingers actually twitch before she stops herself.

He can’t be serious? Her eyes roam over his body, dwelling on his engorged member too long while he scanned the pieces remaining on the board. An idea pops into her head and she’s smirking, kneeling down to give a quick lick to his shaft while he’s distracted. She hears his sharp intake of breath and wraps her lips around the tip of him. He’s so hard, so hot, and so ready for her that Lucy can only assume it hurts him.

She runs her tongue over the tip again, loving the salty taste that lingers in her mouth before taking him fully in. His hand comes to her head on instinct and she feels his fingers tangle in her hair.

“Shit Lucy-“ she hears desperation in his voice and she groans deep in her throat; loving how it makes him shake. He thrusts into her mouth and she finds it hard to keep up, to keep him in her mouth and not gag. She’s certainly not new to blowjobs, but when he gets overzealous she finds it hard to match his energy. Her hands come up to grip his ass and she gives a light squeeze, loving the way his muscles feel under her touch.

He’s breathing hard, she has hear it around the small moans coming from him and she picks up her pace. His legs tense, his thrusts go into overdrive and she grips him for stability and stills her head, content to just let him fuck her mouth. He thrusts once more, his body going rigid and she hears her name leave his mouth in a drawn out moan as he seed fills her. It’s hot, salty, and she almost can’t take it all before she feels him soften and she stands, wiping the small amount from the corner of her mouth while she swallows.

The look on his face is priceless. His cheeks are red, his eyes lidded and clouded with lust. His breath is coming in ragged pants and she watches as he grips the table for support and a part of her feels pride for bringing him to this state. He gave her oral last time, so it’s only fair that she do it this time.

“Enjoy that did you?” She chuckles and rests her hands on her hips.

“Yeah,” He is still breathing hard but she can already see his arousal coming back. The stamina of this Dragon Slayer was insane sometimes. “But I’m also going to enjoy this.” He moves a piece on the board but Lucy doesn’t pay attention, instead focusing on the predator approaching her.

She finds herself against the counter; the coolness of the tiles doing little to quell the fire raging within her. He lifts her and she spreads her legs again for him to step closer; she can feel his member, already hard again, against her thigh.

“That was a good game,” he begins, sliding into her painfully slow. She feels the heat radiate through her in waves, the ball already beginning to wind once more. He fills her so fully, so completely she can’t help but think they are made for each other. “But this is better.” His words only seem to turn her on more and she moans into his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper still.

His thrusts are long and powerful, each one bringing her closer to the crest she wants so badly to reach. She’s so close, her vision tunneling; the ball winding so tight, she thinks it’s going to break.

Then everything does break, and she’s unraveling, her head going back and a moan ringing in the air. Her back arches and her body goes rigid as the pleasure rockets through her like molten lava. With each proceeding thrust her orgasm gets stronger, his own searing her from the inside a moment later, until she’s left clenching her legs around him from the over stimulation. He stills and they’re both breathing hard but he doesn’t remove himself.

Her vision is blurry, her body trembling slightly from the residual convulsions and a smile spreads across her face.

“Thank you for that.” It’s the only thing she can think to say and she leans in to kiss him.

“I should be thanking you.” He smirks and pulls out, wrapping his arms around her waist as he leads them from the counter back to the table.

“Check mate, by the way.” His smile brightens the world around her and she doesn’t even care that she lost, not after the amazing sex she just had.

“Well fuck me,” she pouts but knows he can see the glint in her eyes, “I lost.”

“We played that game too Lucy,” he leans in to kiss her, “you lost.”

“Wanna play again?” She knows what he is going to say; smiling when he says yes.

END

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it ;) I feel it’s not my best work but I think it turned out pretty damn good. By the way, Natsu totally had Levy teach him how to play chess and gave him tips on how to beat Lucy. xD that’s how I imagine it happening anyway.

[megsironthrone]

My Current WIPS and Unstarted Requests!

Here you are anon! I will update the page as I finish fics and move onto other ones! You can also find a link to the list here

Current WIPS: (These are subject to change based on my inspiration!)

My Ward’s Teacher: Based on this request:  Hey it is great you have opened your requests. Could you please write Jane Eyre AU with Jaime Lannister x reader. If you are not comfortable to write it it is not problem. Btw I think you are really talented and I really appreciate what you do. ❤

Already Married: Based on this request:  Con you do something where Reader is Tyron’s baby step sister who has feeling for Bronn and dislikes Joffrey and after mouthing off to him Joffrey decides that he’s going to marry her off to one of his knights who happens to be very horrible. Not wanting her to marry some jerk Bronn and Tyron decide that Bronn is going to act like he and reader have been married for some time. Resulting in some feelings being shared?

Never Wavered: A Jon Snow x fem!reader request from Wattpad; when the king rides for winterfell in the first season she is going too , at first her siblings ( jamie & tyrion because cersei hates her) have to convince her to come , at the feast she spends a lot of time drinking with tyrion and jon , and being heartbroken when she has to leave for kings landing and jon has to leave for the wall .And all these years later they meet again because she traveled with tyrion to dany … when jon sees her standing ib dany‘s throne room at dragon stone they‘re both speechless & spend the night talking and catching on about everything (jon‘s death for example) and being really cute beacause their love never vanished , even after all they‘ve gone trough .

Current (Unstarted) Requests on the list:

Disguised: Based on this request:  Yara Greyjoy imagine where she finds out one of her trusted soldiers was a woman disguised as a man who had fallen in love with her?

Love and Affection: Based on this request:  Can you do a Sandor clegane x reader established relationship where Sandor gets the love and affection he needs and we all want to give him? Maybe reader is on the affectionate side and Sandor kinda pretends he’s annoyed by it but they both know he likes it ? AND:  Sandor Clegane x reader with mostly just cuddling? Idk if he’d ever let someone get that close to him but I can dream🙆🏼‍♀️ Also emotional comfort

A Thorough Cleaning: Based on this request:  Hi Meg could I please ask for a roommates AU with Sansa in which they are trying to make the house presentable last minute because her family is coming to visit? Thank you from @kjs-s

Different Than You Used to Be: Based on this request:  Yes! Requests are open! Could you write a jaime x reader. The reader is a robbs twin and was married to jaime before the show/books started. She used to hang out with robb, jon and theon a lot, and she wasn’t that much of a lady. Now she returns to winterfell with the king and she is pregnant, so she is less wild then she used to be. The boys think she has changed and thus treat her differently than they used to, so she shows she can still be her old self and jaime is just worried.

Take You As My Wife: Based on this request:  may I please get a Ramsay request where the reader is a stark and they fell in love while he was married to sansa so after sansa leaves he agrees to leave winterfell and go back to the dreadfort if he could have the reader as his wife happy ending please thank you so much for your time i love your blog by the way

A Coronation: Based on this request:  Hi! May i request a royal au for jaime lannister x reader. Tywin has died and now jaime is to be king and the reader queen. Could you write about the coronation and what happens around it. Thanks!

Caught In the Act: Based on this request:  Gendry x stark reader. When they were traveling the kings road in the second season. And arya catches them kissing.

A Ward of Winterfell: Based on this request:  Hello! How are you? would it be alright if i could i get a request for a Baratheon (fem) reader (maybe a legitimized bastard of king Robert’s?) who was sent to be a ward at winterfell to get her away from Cercei and is betrothed to to Robb stark? maybe when the royal family rides for Winterfell she goes back to the capitol with Eddard stark and his daughters and everything starts falling apart? it’s okay if not haha.

From a Lie to the Truth: Based on this request:  do you think you could write a modern/fake dating au where reader agrees to pretend to be samwells SO in front of his friends who he lied to about having a girlfriend but they do end up confessing to each other? thank you so much !!

For You: Based on this request:  I was wondering if you could do a Jaime Lannister x Female Reader imagine based around the song “For You” by Rita Ora ft Liam Payne, if you wouldn’t mind, please and thank you! *If you need to make changes, feel free to do so!* by @thebeckyjolene

Good Cop/Bad Cop: Based on this request:  Can you do a Sandor/reader good cop bad cop kind of story line where they are partners but secretly together? Please and thank you!

Take Her Away: Based on this request:  Hi! Can I have an imagine where Y/N is Joffrey’s twin (and Jaime’s favorite kid) and during the King’s Landing riot she gets separated and gets hurt, and Jaime’s the one that saves her and when he goes back to the castle he lectures Cersei about the safety of their daughter, threatening to take her away to protect her

To Secure Winterfell: Based on this request:  Love your writing, I’m so happy you’re back! ❤️ i was wondering if you could write about Ramsay. How he had to marry y/n to “secure his place” in Winterfell and he actually loves her so he doesn’t hurt her at all, and when Myranda fights with her he gets super protective

Not His Type: Based on this request:  Hi how are ya? Can you please write about Tormund arriving in Winterfell with Jon, and he falls in love with smol Y/N Stark, always making sure she’s protected and loved, even though Jon and Sandor remind him constantly that she’s not his type

Out of Harm’s Way: Based on this request:  Could you please write about Tommen and Y/N (his same agae) getting married, and when she gets pregnant he very gentle and tries to keep her out of harms way, enlisting “uncle” Jaime to guard her when he’s not around

Don’t Blame Yourself: Based on this request:  hey meg 👋🏽 can i have an imagine where y/n tries to safe bran from falling but she gets hurt as well, and a guard rushes to tell robb -he’s her fiancé- and Theon and Jon have to calm him down after he sees her because he’s blaming himself for being there for her to safe her

A Secret Relationship:Based on this request: I have another request about sandor if it’s not much trouble to you. Him and the reader work together and they secretly in a relationship and they act like there’s nothing between them infront of everybody, till Beric accidentally finds out AND: I want to request a really really fluffy fic, about sandor when he comes back from a work trip that lasted for weeks, and be surprised about how much the reader missed him, cuz he is a bit insecure about himself and it’s hard for him to imagine that somebody could love and miss him that much I’ll really appreciate it if you could bring his childhood somehow cuz who doesn’t love a big man with childhood issues??

A Drink & a Kiss: Based on this request:  Hey Meg, happy to read that you’re well! Can I request a Tyrion x reader? Reader is a Stark, Sansa‘s older sister/Robb‘s twin, supposed to marry a Tyrell while he’s supposed to marry Sansa. Over their shared misery of the arranged marriage they end up spending time together. On the night before, they drink together and kiss. Tyrion is surprised she’d rather be with him than a pretty Tyrell and they manage to convince Tywin that they can marry, because it doesn’t matter which Stark he marries.

Smuggled Away: Based on this request:  Hi! The request about a Bratheon!reader got me thinking, what if there’s a similar situation where the reader’s king robert’s daughter or a stark or something like that and the reader ends up getting smuggled away when jamie leaves cersei in kings landing and ends up reuniting with jon snow at some point and she kinda ends up kindling a spark with jon snow and interrupts the whole jon Daenerys thing? i’m not sure if this request makes much sense or if it would be good or not > . <

An Awkward Time: Based on this request:  Hi! This is the oberyn x reader request. Reader is dating oberyn (who is a bit older). One of his daughters is best friends with sansa (reader’s sister) which makes it a bit awkward for everyone (except for oberyn who doesnt find anything awkward).

Secret Wife: Based on this request:  Can you do something with Sandor secretly having a wife. Maybe they met when he was serving king Robert and they met when she was hunting and eloped after a few years. She left before the battle of Blackwater because Sandor didn’t want her getting wrapped up in that so They meet again in Winterfell and no one can actually believe it.

Protected From Joffrey: Based on this request:  Hi Meg! Can you please write about Y/N Lannister (who acts and looks like a princess, just like Myrcella) getting in trouble with Meryn Trant because she scolded Joffrey and after he hits her Bronn finds her and takes care of her, and even Tyrion is happy about it

Their Softer Sides: Based on this request:  Hey @megsironthrone how are you doing? Hope you’re doing fine. Can I request a Tywinxfem!TargaryenxRoose one where the both of them are in a constant banter concerning on who should end up getting the reader’s hand in marriage only to end up making the reader a blushing mess because of the many unusual and surprising compliments Tywin and Roose made over dinner and eventually the green-gold eyed gentleman finally won her over and end up spooning her in his bed showing his soft side. Thank x from @girlonfireice

Disbelief: Based on this request:  May I ask for a reader x Sandor where he and Bronn save her from some not so good people and she and Sandor fall for each other much to Sandor and Bronn’s shock? Happy writing!

An Apology?: A Wattpad request; Hey! I was wondering if you still take requests. If yes could you write a ramsay bolton image for me, where the reader is the younger sister of ramsay and he actually apologizes for killing their dad and after ramsay is killed by sansa his younger sister is the new leader of the boltons.

Jealous of My Own Children!: Another Wattpad request; I would like to know if you would write a Jaime lannister x female reader insert where the reader and jaime are childhood friends who are in love. And the reader supports him even when everyone calls him kingslayer and oath breaker. He and reader have a set of twins a boy and a girl and jaime feels ecstatic that he can play father to the kids however he is also this cute jelous of his kids as they get to spend more time with his wife than him. Basically I just wanted cute fluff. I know the idea isn’t that original but it’s just something that came to my mind so

Direwolf Pup: Based on this request:  Hi! I was wondering if you could write about how Y/N is married to Robb (before the series started) and when the guys returned to Winterfell with the direwolf pups he surprises her in one, the second runt of the litter, because he wanted her protected at all times and as an apology for leaving her clingy ass all day 😂❤️

Loyalty: Based on this request: Hi Meg, I‘d like to request a Brienne x northern!reader. They meet when Brienne comes to King‘s Landing, reader is a Lady and an outcast at KL, but her and Brienne start to become close, bonding over their loyalty to the Starks. It gets more intimate, maybe they kiss but Brienne doesn’t want to endanger reader so she distances herself. When Brienne leaves, reader tells her she loves her, but she can’t say it back out of fear. Then later they meet again and she finally tells her?

Godmother: Based on this request:  Sandor asking Arya to be his babies godmother? You can decide how she reacts but I just need some wholesome hound and wolf girl content.  Hi I’m the anon that asked for the Sandor asking wolf girl to be a godmother. I forgot to add trade sorry but I was just imagining it to be after she has her baby so she’s in the room but maybe just asleep or quietly watching cuz she’s tired. Sorry about that

In The North: Based on this request:  Hey! If request are still open, is it possible if you can write Sandor x Reader where they had a relationship before they had to part ways and so they get reunited when reader is sent with Jorah by Daenarys to get a white walker, Beric and Thoros is in disbelief that Sandor can be able of loving someone - thanks!

Winterfell: Based on this request: Can I request a Jon Snow x twinsister!reader?? (If not then just a Jon Snow x reader 😊) Where it’s just been them, then Jon left for the NW and his sister stayed in Winterfell. She has stayed at Winterfell through the Greyjoys and Boltons. And they meet again after Jon and Sansa won back Winterfell. Ramsay kept her separate from Sansa so the couldn’t conspire together. Thank you in advance!

Killing Khaleesi: A Wattpad request; Y/n is Cersei’s oldest daughter who always obeys her orders, but when she’s ordered to kill Khaleesi, she can’t, and starts spending time down there, telling her mom she’s making her wait till she least expects it. And then when Y/n walks down there one night, her mom is there, waiting for her and gives her a choice. Either she kills her, or Cersei does. Of course when y/n goes to kill her, she swings around and slices her mom’s leg making her fall down, and she releases Khaleesi and they ride back to where the dragon mother lives.

Not My Daughter!: A Wattpad request; Hi can I make a request on a Joffrey x Baby Daughter! Reader I know it’s not part of the story but if you can? Joffrey doesn’t care about anything or anyone except his daughter and if anyone hurts her or makes her cry he gets into like mama lion mode

The Announcement: Another Wattpad request; it’s a Modern AU with a targaryen reader and Jaime Lannister Where the reader is Dany’s baby sister and she is married to Jaime Lannister, who Dany, Rhaegar and Viserys (they’re all alive here) hate and their families were once business allies until Tywin (Jaime’s dad) betrayed the Targaryens and merged with the Baratheons instead Fast forward to the present day, Jaime and the reader host a dinner because they have an announcement to make, the targaryens and and Lannisters argue about their relationship in general, Viserys said something snarky to Jaime which made the reader snap at him and tell everyone that they are expecting triplets, Dany, Rhaegar and the Lannisters were all happy except viserys who walked out like a drama queen lol

Beauty: Another Wattpad request; can I have a Tywin Lannister x fem!Targaryen where the reader went in hiding in the woods only to be found by Tywin but he has no idea the reader was a female let alone a Targaryen until he accidentally saw her washing her hair in a near by river and he was immediately stunned by her beauty and then he started to be sweet with her in his own charming debonair way and the asks to marry her. Thank you

[shazyloren]

Little Lyanna

Summary:  Jon is out of his mind with worry, trying to busy himself as his wife labours their baby into the world... They've been trying so long, and they had once thought it would not happen.

Notes: As you know, I am taking part in a challenge on tumblr by user 'JonerysFic' and 'MhysaOfDragons' in which for seven days from Valentines day I am uploading a new one shot. The prompts have been provided and the stories have all been written and I gotta say you're in for a lot of Jonerys content. So Day 7, the last day, 20th February, which is when I'm uploading this, the prompt I chose was 'Free Choice'. So I got thinking and decided to expand on my glorious reign series and give you the birth of their first child, Lyanna.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864576

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Jon was going crazy.

Waiting for the arrival of his and Dany’s child had left him drinking with Tyrion in the hands quarter as a promise to Dany that he’d stay away while she laboured their baby. All of the dogs in King’s Landing were howling, due to the storm that had captured the city and by extension scared the inhabitants into staying inside. Lighting and rain, flashing and fierce. There had been four storms since he and Dany assumed the throne five years ago, but this had by far been the worse. Ironic that their child would also be known as Stormborn like it’s mother, but that also left deep rooted fear within Jon himself.

He wondered if she would survive, after all both of their mother’s had perished when giving birth to them, although Sam was dealing with her, the only person he trusted. But there was still this nagging feeling of fear within him that meant he was on edge and pacing the hands chambers all the while it was going on. He could stand on the Balcony and see their chambers from it, but he wouldn’t know what was happening.

They’d lost a babe already, after the first time they’d made love on the boat from dragonstone to White Harbour, Dany’s bleeding had not arrived. They didn’t count their chickens before they hatched, both of them knowing what happened to her last babe, but when her belly had began to swell with life they were joyous. Jon requested they not tell anyone, as only Missandei, Sam and themselves knew at that moment. But about ten weeks after the conception, Dany bled hard and the babe was lost.

She’d cried for weeks in private with him, they’d shared his chambers and it had been heart-wrenching to see her suffer. She put on a smile for the lords of Winterfell, and when they’d caught her crying she’d always played it off as the lose of her Dragon, which in a sense was also her child. So when her belly had become swollen once again six months ago, they’d been very joyous yet extremely cautious. Jon had not let her do anything, she was to relax for the first few months, must to her annoyance.

And now, she was in labour, a month early.

To make matters worse, Lord Baratheon and Lady Stark (Jon’s sister) had sprung upon them a surprise visit, which meant they too were in the hands chambers, drinking with him as the entertainment Tyrion had quickly thrown together for the visiting family got cut short. Daenerys was in the middle of giving a speech when she’d gushed on the floor and began to feel light headed.

She was early, and this was all the more reason Jon was worried. The chances of both of them surviving was very small, but he’d hoped that she had, they both had. If she was to go… Jon couldn’t even bare to think about it, he loved her so hopelessly that the even consideration that Daenerys Targaryen, his wife, his queen, would never see him again, would never look at him with those eyes, was completely consuming him

“Stop pacing, you idiot” Arya grumbled, fiddling with a knife, twisting it between her fingers. The Valyrian blade that Bran had bestowed upon her all those years ago, before he’s met his end… Jon shook his head and did as he was told. He may be the king, but when Ayra said to do something, he listened without question.

“It’s natural to be fearful, Your Grace” Tyrion countered, pouring red wine into his goblet and almost downing it instantly. “But I can assure you she’s in very good hands”

Jon knew she was, Sam had delivered several babies now including that of his sister, Sansa’s two children with her husband up in the north. He may be Lord of Horn Hill, but he also was their maester, and Jon trusted him more than anyone else besides Daenerys.

“Perhaps we can do something to take your mind off of everything, Your Grace?” Gendry offered. Nothing would take Jon’s mind off of it, he knew as such, but he took the bate and sat down at the table with the other three. “Are there any pressing issues that need resolving in the city?”

“We’ve been dealing with a speight of theft in flea bottom” Jon shrugs, reminding himself that flea bottom needs to be renamed as it wasn’t the hive of poverty it had once been in the era of the Lannisters rule. Jon and Dany had more than enough comforts here in the Red Keep that he’d make monthly donations of food and clothes that were worn by servants down to them and handed them out personally.

“Okay, let’s focus on that then”

It worked for maybe twenty minutes, until Jon swore he heard screaming all the way across the Red Keep. He knows he didn’t, it was more than likely his mind playing tricks on him, but still, it was enough to stop him from wanting to commit to the City’s issues and think about her instead.

He didn’t pray to the old gods, after all he’s seen in the world he doubted any god’s existence anymore, but he did pray to Sam’s ability that he’d keep her alive, both of them. He should’ve ignored Dany, stayed with her until the end, but it had been hours and she’d begged him to go until it was done. He wouldn’t if it was a case of not wanting to seem weak, or not wanting to see the birth, or perhaps if she did pass, she didn’t want him to see it in front of his eyes.

Whatever her reasons, it was a decision that was driving him crazy and fearful and almost alone.

“Sansa has birthed two children, both of which were successfully delivered by Sam, stop having a crisis you’ll look like you’re supposed to be celebrating your fiftieth name day” Arya was growing impatient and Jon did not blame her in the slightest, but had they known about the baby they lost, then perhaps she’d know why he was frightened for his Queen.

Sansa knew now, shortly after the war and her engagement and subsequent wedding to Gawen of House Glover, she’d come to Jon about bleeding heavily and unsure of anyone to turn too. She’d suffered a miscarriage and it had affected her mentally. Jon had offered comfort and told her the story of her and Dany losing one and from that moment, Sansa had dealt with the issue better.

“I’m her husband, she’s my Queen, let me worry” Jon sighs, thinking back to the times in which his worries were the living dead killing all of men-kind.

So much had changed and so much was still to change now that he and Daenerys were to become parents. The capital had been so happy at the news of their King and Queen welcoming a child soon, and thankfully, the other lords in the kingdom had too. Jon had struggled with it on some occasions. A child was something Jon had always wanted but never envisioned he would have when he was serving on the wall, but something that had come true and very shortly, he’d have to be a father.

Would he be a good one?

“Your Grace” Jon hears behind him and so he turns to note several guardsmen and Sam, the Maester and man he trusted amongst everyone else. He was covered in blood, as was to be expected after delivering a baby, but his appearance still filled him with dread.

“Is everything alright?” Tyrion is the first one to speak.

“Mother and babe are both alright” Sam nods and Jon almost wants to fall to his knees. The relief that over spills in his body is almost too much to handle. He doesn’t know whether to sit down, to run to Dany’s side, to kiss Sam even. “The Queen has lost a lot of blood however, so she needs to rest up for a few weeks, eat plenty and drink lots of water to get her up and running again” Sam takes a small pause. “It’s a girl”

Arya squeals piercingly into the air and yet Jon isn’t affected by it, he’s just shocked, his entire system falling apart as he imagines a small girl in his arms. A girl, a little daughter to call my own, our beautiful miracle, our beloved angel . Jon needs to see them both, he need to hold her in her arms and look at the beautiful life he and Dany created together.

“Can I seem them?” Jon ask, knowing that even if Sam said know he’d still go anyways. Sam just nods and that’s all Jon needs to start a quick pace towards his own bedchambers.

The halls are quiet when he leaves Tyrion’s chambers, only guardsmen with smiles on their faces as Jon feels glee and anticipation build in his chest. He follows the way to his chambers that he was so familiar with at this point, seeing servants cleaning and clearing stuff away, seeing cats up on the balcony, seeing the steps to their space. She was there, his little princess was waiting for him, and his queen too.

When he reached the door to his chambers, he was greeted by Missandei who was holding sheets covered in blood, she was smiling brightly when her eyes connected with Dany’s. Clearly happy both the Queen and the girl were okay. She gleefully grins before heading off in the direction Jon came from, leaving him to open the door.

The sound he was greeted with was like music to his eyes, a soft gurgling and a sweet song that melted away every fear in his body. He did not know the song, he thinks perhaps she made it up, but her voice is tunely and melodic and the happiness that was radiating from it was enough to send Jon wild. He sees them then, Dany, sat up in the bed with a small clothed babe in her arms. Jon, in an instant, is at her side.

“Stars above” Jon whispers as Dany kisses him on the cheek. “She’s absolutely perfect”

As he looked at her, he notices she has been born with a thick head full of hair, black hair like his own and a little bit all over the place. Her eyes however, magnificently violet and delightfully wild. Jon knows the babe can’t see them both yet, but she was content just being in her mother’s arm.

“I’m glad you’re here” Dany sighed, Jon knew she was tired. “She needs to hear her Father speak to her”

She passed him over and for what felt like hours, Jon just held her in his arms and looked at her. She was the most perfect creation that has ever been because of him. He loved her with every drop of blood in his veins, every breath in his lungs and ever word in his mouth. He whispered to her, promised her that he would protect her until his last breath, love her until he could not any longer and he even shed tears. He was sensitive in the moment but he did not care.

She was a dream.

“I want to call her Lyanna” He says out of nowhere, not having heard anything Dany had said, just cut off from it all as he stared at the perfect babe in his arms. “I think my mother deserves that” He stated. After everything his own mother went through, everything she and his real father gave up for him, and after wanting to know about her and finally finding out the truth, Jon felt sure that was the little babe in his arms name. “If that’s okay with you”

“Little Lyanna Targaryen” She sighs, sleep wanting to take his wife over. She was now laying down, hoping to get a moment of sleep. Jon did not mind, it meant he got to hold his babe for longer. Little Lyanna Targaryen, it was. “I like it, then if we have another one, we’ll call him Robb”

If we have another one, we’ll call him Robb.

Jon liked the idea, but they had everything they needed for now. Him, his queen and their beautiful Princess Lyanna. A life Jon never envisioned, but one he was grateful of nonetheless.